I don't know what I should do.

Stop, time, stop!

I just checked out the wedding website of someone I knew in college who got married earlier this year. It made me feel like crawling into a box and sleeping for 100 years. It was very overwhelming.

I think I play too much poker now. I'm not sure if I play because I still enjoy it, or 'cuz it's become something like a habit that offers a bit of pleasure, kinda like eating and sleeping though not a necessity.

We get Playboy magazine at our place.

One of my roommates' former roommates didn't change his address for the subscription after he left. The three of us here share it now. Joe likes to say we fight over it. 'Course it's in each of our best interests to grab it as soon as it lands in the mailbox and check it while it's still in pristine condition.

Personally, I think it's not porny enough. Well, from what I've seen so far, there aren't enough pages of nakedness. Maybe less is supposed to be more? Doesn't work that way for me. And there aren't any really interesting, imaginative, action shots. I guess I shouldn't really ask for or expect too much from the magazine. (The internet has put these types of publications to shame. But if it's a buck a mag, might as well just add it to your collection of masturbation media.)

Or maybe it's just me. I mean, sure, the women in the magazine look gorgeous and edible, even though you're always aware that they've been retouched, airbrushed, enhanced. It's just that looking at them really doesn't do much for me these days. Now when I see pix of lovely naked ladies with huge tits it's just "oh she looks quite nice; i wish i had some of those of my own" and not "oh she makes me wanna touch myself."

I haven't really pored over porn in awhile. Thing is, I really haven't the desire to lately. And sometimes that bothers me... that I don't currently have people - in print, online or live - outside of my relationship to turn me on and get me off. If I had anything, it should be porn, right? It should not be other people in the flesh, right?

I always had something on the side in the past... even if it was just the opportunity to kiss and touch strangers while drunk at clubs. What if that is the only thing besides my man that could get me going now? Should I be happy about that? ...that my man is so sexy and I'm so attracted to him that nothing else really does it for me anymore?

Does that really bother me? (Maybe it really doesn't.) Should it not? Or should I be entitled to whatever can still do it for me, if he's entitled to porn? Is that not fair?

After doing some reading, sounds like I've got a mild case of achilles tendinitis (more about it here).

I think I injured my left ankle.

I'm not sure if I have a stress fracture or strain or sprain, or what. I started feeling stiffness and pain in it about a month ago. I'd feel it when started out on my runs. The pain would go away after about 5 minutes of running, so I thought I just needed to stretch it out more beforhand.

But every time I ran after that, the pain was increasingly worse at the beginning and would last for longer. I took a break from running for about a week, and when I started running again, the pain was at the same level I left it.

Late last week, the pain started lasting throughout my entire run, though it would decrease a bit after the first 10 minutes. Now, whenever I wake up during the night and in the morning, my ankle is pretty stiff. It loosens up after a minute or two of walking on it.

Whatever I've done to my ankle, I probably shouldn't run on it for about a month or more. And that sucks 'cuz I really like running, and was counting on it to help me lose my last 3-5lbs. I guess I'll look into a brace...

I think it's interesting how, these days, more people seem to see me as either Korean or Chinese, and not as much a smooth blend of both.

So, folks, I'm irridescent.

I'm two different colors or flavors in one. Sometimes I look like one or the other, depending on the angle or point of view you're looking at me. You see what you want to see.

Have you ever noticed that most of what most people say is stuff that's already been said... stuff they've heard from other people, stuff they're simply regurgitating for you?

Seems like most people just repeat stuff and have nothing original to say... hell, who's living an original life these days?!

Nemesis.

I believe a nemesis is a good thing to have, and a good thing to be aware of, if you have one. Without one, it would be too easy to become arrogant or complacent, or worse, outdone.

Do I currently have a nemesis?

Perhaps I find the idea of having a nemesis rather romantic. Perhaps I've imagined nemeses in the past when there were none.

My nemesis is a person among the people I know whose core being is my direct opposite in numerous ways and whose opposing traits have the potential to threaten my well-being or get between me and what I want out of life. I could have more than one nemesis at a time.

There is my nemesis of the external who's raised rich and non-religious, spoiled, thin, small, delicate frame, perfect skin, long legs, big tits (if female), etc...

There is my nemesis of the internal who's a mix of conservative, shallow, apathetic, unaffected, conforming, conceding, popular, naturally social, materialistic, extrememely girly, frigid, prudish, unartistic, inefficient, homophobic, etc...

Then there's my ideology nemesis, the one I believe is the most beneficial... who constantly opposes my viewpoint and opinions and decisions, my integrity, my morality, my lifestyle, etc...

And then there is The Nemesis who is a combination of all of the above - external, internal, and ideological. A "Bizarro Jennie" (like Bizarro Jerry).

I think I would know my true nemesis by a unresolvable push-pull, a definite and overcharged connection, a mutual need, and an awareness of it. I would be simultaneously drawn to and repulsed by this true nemesis.

No. I guess I don't really have one right now.

I've got such weak plans for the weekend. Paintball fell through (I'm still kinda ticked off about that). And tomorrow's where-to-go and who-with are still up in the air. All I've got for certain is the reunion on Saturday.

The week went by too fast.

Interesting thing is, even before revisting the idea of adding small increments of drama (my very own drama, not other people's) to my life to lengthen it, I think my subsconsious began trying to help me add it by bringing to the forefront of my mind a bunch of drama-inducing questions to ponder... questions that would point to or directly lead into forseeable drama.

I should've written them down.

Oh, and... Earlier this week, the karma police knocked on my door in the middle of the night... scared me for a good hour or more. Wrong house. False alarm. No arrests were made. *phew*

It's much less that I want to move somewhere new than that I want to meet and know more people. Different yet similar people. And maybe that would require me to move somewhere entirely new and far away.

And maybe it's not so much that I want to meet more people than that I don't want to become more and more like any of the people I already know.

Yeah, I've got that I-wanna-get-outta-here feeling again.

Going back to school seems like the best excuse to get out. But going back to school is pointless for me at this time.

I feel stuck in a rut at the top of the hill.

All week, I've waited for a nice block of time to post stuff here. I've had thoughts and feelings to document... stuff that I feel the only way I can put out of my mind is by dumping here.

But everytime I have a free minute or two and I log in to Blogger, I suddenly lose the urge to type out what I want to say.

Let me try again later...

The way I see it right now, I've already lived half my life.

I haven't discovered anything. I haven't created much of much benefit to many. I haven't had any kids or left behind me a legacy of any level of greatness. But I've survived my upbringing. And that, to me, is enough most of the time.

The next half of my life may contain more years than the first half, but will go pass by just as fast or faster than the first half.

I think the easiest way to make my life feel longer is to add drama to it. But I'm SO drama averse.

Maybe a little bit of it would do me some good. Maybe I'm not at the optimal level of both drama and happy-sailing. I mean, maybe the balance is tilted a little too far in the latter direction...

I'm itchy (no longer twitchy) today, but I feel quite good. I know any mal- that I feel these days from day to day is very temporary.

In general, life is wonderful.

For the first twenty-five years or so, I lived for everyone else. I lived to make other people happy. For the past 3 years or so, I've lived largely, almost entirely for myself. I've made most of my decisions based on my own wants and needs. I've been as selfish as everyone else.

I've been living more and more under the belief that there are no universal rights and wrongs. There is only what's right and wrong for each individual. And I've been doing what's right for me.

Sometimes I wish the people around me were more liberal. Then I thank my lucky stars that I was born and have lived in the SF Bay Area all my life.

I wasted a lot of time yesterday stressing over finding hidden stressors.

The bottom of my left eye has been twitching, ever so slightly, for over two weeks now. I first noticed the twitching on June 30, the first day of my vacation.

Blepharospasm. I guess I that's what I have. It's not easily noticeable when I'm smiling or if you're not looking for it. It's not physically annoying, but it does bug me. I can see movement when I look down.

I feel tired. I've tried sleeping more. I'm don't know what else I can do to get it to stop.

Yesterday, I went on a rant at around 4pm about there being hardly any women in here at the office. I complained to a couple of my male officemates, who I'm sure are very sympathetic.

I'm not sure what made me suddenly go off about the lack of women here. I mean, most days pass without me really, honestly caring about it. Maybe I just needed/wanted something, anything to bitch about at that moment...

Mainly, I think, I just wish there were more women in the building to provide a diversity in visuals and a more representative-of-real-society set of peers. I might not even care if I don't end up interacting with them frequently.

Thinking about it now... you know, I don't really care.

*high five*

I'm glad my mom's been a health-nut ever since she defeated cancer 10 years ago. She's always been smart about her health, even before then. Now she has me taking Caltrate daily. If you're a woman over 20 years old, you should be taking it too.

Mom just IM'ed to ask about the pictures we took while on the cruise. I have to go home to give them to her. I still don't want to go home or spend time with the family, but I have a few music books to pick up there, so I'll go.

After a week and a half, my feelings have fizzled down... so I reposted the notes I took during my vacation here. Read (and weep) if you want to, I don't care...

My dad did say something at the end of our vacation about how "the person who learns to forgive will be the happiest." Although I wouldn't say he walks what he talks, he is right about that.

I have a serious ache to hear, see, and feel some really good live music. Not having had it in awhile makes me antsy and agitated and a little frustrated.

I told Babe yesterday, it's like not having sex for a long time. There are places that crave/yearn/long to be touched... and only really good music can get through the skin and reach those places.

I want to be entered/penetrated/invaded...

I always wonder what it would be like to be you... to be you experiencing me...

Suggest me a book to read.

Suggest me a song to listen to.

Suggest me a show to watch.

It's like I'm not-so-gradually becoming one with the rest of the world.

Last night, we watched Heavenly Creatures on DVD. Less than quarter into the movie, I started getting flashbacks of psycho-ex's bedroom, and I realized I'd already seen the movie.

I think the movie is effectively affective, creative, and a well-made overall, though I really don't like the story/subject matter. There was also too much screaming and crying for me. I had a headache by the end of it. A real headache. I'd been knitting my brows for more than an hour.

I've been feeling more anxiety while watching TV shows and movies lately. I've been feeling along with characters more.

I'm becoming more sympathetic and empathetic with age. I'm not sure I can stop or change that, even though I want to. And I don't really know how to.

Babe and I went to Ruby Skye on Friday nite. I don't think I'd go there again for awhile. I keep on forgetting it's a place where old pps like to gather. Not that I can't mingle with them or have a fun time among an older crowd... just that, being among peers, despite potential competition, adds a bit more excitement and pleasure.

Also, the music wasn't great. We thought it'd be better than at some other clubs that night. I wonder how good it would have to be for me to call it good or great. I mean, I haven't been to a club or a show or a concert in awhile, and I've got that whole I haven't been moved in awhile feeling... Maybe now I'm expecting too much.

Well, partway through the not-so-great music, a dance troupe got onstage to do a number (the Cell Block Tango, I believe it was) from Chicago, which I thought was well-performed and maybe worth a third of the cover.

I hadn't drank in awhile either, and I thought two drinks would be a max for me for a couple of hours. But after two and an hour, I felt fine. I came down too fast. I was a little surprised and disappointed at the same time. I'd wanted to get closer to drunk than I did.

I'd say I had a good time just being out. You know you're having a great time when you don't ask yourself, "Am I having a good time?", while you're having it. I think I asked myself that once or twice, but the answer was, "I'm not not having a good time, and I'm not bored... so yes."

We woke up early on Saturday to get in line at the Oakland Coliseum for the A's game and for Mulder bobbleheads. We got them, then we tailgated until the game started. I'm sure I asked myself, "Am I having a good time?", at least once or twice during the game. And the answer was, "I'm boiling hot, madly sweating, and dizzy... but yes."

That night we played poker. Of course poker. My friend and her friend, and my roommate, Joe, joined us. More people than usual showed up to play with us.

I was pretty moody that night, and had to put a bit of effort into trying not to let my thoughts and feelings get the best of me and my game. Instead of asking myself, "Am I having a good time?", I kept wondering "Are my friends having a good time?" I really wanted my friends to enjoy learning and playing poker with me and the others.

By the end of the night, I felt that they did have fun... and I felt silly for caring so much about their welfare. I know I'm too often too sensitive about how my friends are feeling. I wish I wasn't. I've never made a real effort not to be, though I've said I would. Be curious but not care-ious.

Sunday, I went to Hillsdale mall to use a Victoria's Secret gift certificate that I got on my birthday. I waited until now for their semi-annual sale to be over and their new stuff to come in. It was worth the wait; they've got some sexy new stuff in stock now. I'm partial to pinks, but I'm not sure Babe is...

I also tried to find some shorts at the mall 'cuz I only have one pair of non-workout shorts. I didn't work out all weekend, and felt fatter. But then I remembered that I'm PMS-ing, so a few extra pounds isn't a cause for alarm. I didn't gain any from the cruise, which is amazing considering the overabundance of food that was at my fingertips.

Bloated or not, I've been feeling sexier lately (which is usually the case in the summer). Sexier, but less interesting. I've tried to take an objective look at myself, and I yawned a little. I feel as if my personality needs to take a stretch. It's been cramped into a mildly boring routine.

I mean, I refuse to be or become a girl that people flock to mainly because of her looks. Not that I've got looks... but if, in fact, they are my biggest draw, that'd be a pretty sorry story.

And I absolutely refuse to be beat out by any of those girls that people flock to mainly because of her looks. You know them... the ones with the sophisticated clothes, perfect skin, cute faces, and no personality...

I have one, but I haven't taken it out for a drive in awhile. I want to grow it so that it's obvious, and I want it to be the first thing people notice. It bugs the crap out of me when I feel as if my personality can't stand alone... that it needs to be accompanied by good looks to get any attention. That's damn unfair. But c'est la vie...

Sunday nite, we saw Terminator 3. And that was the end of my weekend.

It dawned on me this past Thursday while I was driving home from work that I haven't felt poor in a many months. Being and feeling poor has been my big thing for the last two LONG years.

And I don't think I don't feel poor now just 'cuz work's been paying me more since the beginning of this year, or 'cuz I'm much closer to the end of my debt. I think it's also largely 'cuz I've been a lot more satisfied with the other aspects of my life, such as where I live, what I do in my spare time, who I'm friends with, who I go home to...

It bothers me... but it bothers me more even more that it bothers me.

To feel it is weakness.

Don't feel it. Or feel it, but don't show it. Defy it. Refuse to let it fuck things up.

Learning to live with one's feelings is probably a lot like learning to live with one's mutant powers.

I'm satisfied with most of my feelings and the depth at which I feel them. But there are a few feelings that disappoint me when I feel them.... even though they're reflexive and natural for me, for my personality. They spring right up on cue, regardless of how much I don't want them.

I hate to see them get the best of me, even for just a few moments. I can put them down eventually, sometimes much sooner than later. But still, I'm bothered that I felt them at all.

If you came here sometime between 6pm yesterday and 9am today, you saw a post containing my mess of thoughts and feelings from last week about my family. I took it down because I realized how private those thoughts and feelings are, and they shouldn't be online.

It helped me a whole lot more to talk about the week with Babe last night.

I hope that's a growing trend... me being able to express myself and obtain catharsis better from verbal communication than written communication.

OK. I fixed this sucker... but now I kinda want the white background back. ARGH.

Sometimes the whole process of keeping up a blog is so much of a hassle.

I feel a pent-up need for exposure and alcohol.

So I feel like going out this Friday night or Saturday night... and it always comes down to, who am I going to go out with? It's frustrating enough to work that out that in the end I just don't go out. It's getting increasingly frustrating.

It's hard to get an optimal number and type of people from among my friends in a group to go out so that we all have an enjoyable time. Everyone's always AWOL these days. And I don't think I could tag along with a bunch of singles and expect to have a wild and rowdy time with them without feeling a little bit guilty.

So how do I fix this problem? Increase my circle of friends?

Well, damnit... I shouldn't have to go with a group. Alone should be enough, or just with the boyfriend should be enough, since I just want to get out and dance and drink.

What's preventing going out as a couple from being more of an attractive alternative to going out with a group of friends? Probably just the fact that I've never enjoyed going out with just my boyfriends in the past. But maybe it'd be different now with Babe...

I've just about given up trying to put my old template back up. Get used to this one, 'cuz it might have to stick.

Here's a picture of me with a sled dog puppy that I got to hold while in Alaska. He was sooooooo cute... just 9 or so days old!

Being around my family always catapults me into a past life and into a whole 'nother mindset. A week of them, no matter where, takes me really far away from my current life and happiness and state of mind. That's why it feels so strange to be back.

I'm finally back. I'm so glad to be back. But it feels pretty strange...

My room doesn't really feel like my room. I guess it really never was or will be since moving out is right back in my face. My roommates called me this morning to say that we're moving up to the second floor, same apt complex, in August.

It felt really funny seeing Babe again last night. He doesn't seem real. He doesn't really seem like mine anymore. It's probably just a feeling (not reality).

I think I've changed a little, and I hope only temporarily. I hope things return to the way things were before I left, more or less. I took down some notes during my vacation, but I'm trying to decide whether to post them or not 'cuz they have a lot to do with my family and my feelings about them. Personal, not very anecdotal stuff.

If something hasn't changed at all, it's work. I gotta go to a meeting now...