somewhere over the mekong: October 2011

29.10.11

Everything has been in front of me all along.

Everything. I once spoke to a friend and he said something along the lines of,"We have to go so very far to realize that everything has been in front of us all along." And I've been hella far! Crossing oceans to learn how to ride a bicycle, traversing borders to learn what it means to laugh, hopping on planes to learn that goodness still exists.

I spent three days in San Francisco, 1.5 days in Berkeley, and more days then I expected in Santa Clara, CA. I bought a one way ticket and I'm still here. I will leave tomorrow morning.

I haven't been writing because I have been living and I have been lazy. However, the turn of events these last 1.5 weeks has been great, I've learned that my friends are well connected and tapped into a circles that you would never think to reach. I learned that people are human and extremely nice. I also learned that I still have new fears to overcome or perhaps they are just old fears that have resurfaced.

Somehow I found myself at a three day conference for "Advancing Justice" for API's which was quite inspirational and well run. I haven't really had these types of discussions for over 2 years, it was refreshing and moving. It was particularly great to see my fellow friends and peers becoming the movers and shakers that they are, i.e. taking over the world. I could feel it, they will become someone big someday.

I found myself at this conference because at around 9:15 pm the night before I decided to meet with my friend Anthony for boba after meeting my friend Libby (We have officially met in three countries!). I was about to cancel this boba run too because I needed to catch someone else to talk to them about healthcare and the census. But then I was like, "fuck it" and stopped worrying about the logistics of time and met with my friend Anthony, since I wasn't sure I would see him later. Then he encouraged me to go to the conference and there I was! Amazing.

Anyways I find the series of events so bomb-ass for better lack of words - I didn't really expect to stay up here for too long, I actually really miss home home right now. I sort of just want to hang out with my cousins, cook for my dad, hang out with gramps, and fall in love - you know the usual feelings that surface when routine has broken in and settling ain't so bad...

...when home is real.

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I had no cash on me. I was walking across the pedestrian bridge that overlooks Geary near Japan Town. It's an extremely beautiful pedestrian bridge, especially to the eyes of someone who hasn't seen such a thing in so long. The soft lights fade into the darkness. The voices of my friends trailing behind me, their energy so pulsating. Friends who I hadn't seen in a very long time, but it felt like yesterday. Cars run around below me and the Bay breeze nudges me cold. The tall buildings tell me not to worry and we tiptoe around the shattered remains of glass and I worry that I am bothering my friends and making them walk too far because I don't want to pay the extra atm fees. Then I tell myself that I'm being stupid and that they don't care.

Man this city is beautiful.

You are starting to love every city you go to. That's really good.

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I've recently discovered the magical world that is Sephora Online Shopping. I haven't partaken in it, but it's fun to see what kind of deals I can get online and not in person.

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I think I will write a very long story about Vietnam soon. Maybe.

You should just write about it.

15.10.11

I like to read magazines backwards.

Sitting in Chinatown, Los Angeles I was feeling the humidity wrap around me. I was wearing two layers of clothing and didn't mind. I sort of miss the humidity of Vietnam. I can take the heat you see. Zach Galifianakis is staring to me from the left. Why is he on the cover of GQ magazine? Confused I pick it up and glance through it. I like to read magazines backwards. Maybe because there are so many pictures but that is what I like to do. I used to think that it was because I was Chinese and that Chinese books are written from the right to the left rather than right to the left.

I've been feeling a bit funky these days as you probably know. I realized that I cussed a bit too much in my last post due to a lack of better words. Lately I have been feeling a bit blank. Blank when it comes to people asking me things about my life. I draw but a blank. Sort of like that glazed feeling you get when you are driving on the freeway for a while, the lights begin to flow into one another, and what is in front of you is no longer the road, or a car. This time its a different kind of funky. A type of funky that I don't really feel like talking about, a funky that I don't want to deal with, a funky that I don't think I will overcome anytime soon.

SPERMDL That's what is said on this ladies Mercedes as I was sitting on plastic green chairs in Chinatown, Los Angeles. I was getting my air conditioned fixed by my dad's long time friend who's a mechanic there. I was quiet excited to be there, especially since he was part of the Chinatown community since he came from Vietnam back in the late 70's/early 80's. I talked to his wife. She told me much about her older son who was about to get married. He makes 6 figures and recently just figured out his life in the last 4 years or so. He studied to be an artist. She has another son who is almost exactly one month older than me. May 30th. I was born on June 28th. Her husband, Uncle David, decides to argue with her the date of my birthday, while I am standing in between them.

Nope, she's born on June 30th.
No she isn't...she just said...
No, June 30th! Exactly one month after our son because when we called them to come to our son's 1 month birthday she went into labor!
No, but she said her birthday is....
Yeah my birthday is June 28.

I love this. I freaking love this kind of stuff. I spent most of the afternoon talking to his wife in Vietnamese. I was suddenly very happy that I could speak Vietnamese because had I not been able to, who knows how long our conversation could of last, perhaps a fraction of what had been.

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Today I called my cousin James to try to ask him if he wanted me to make tacos for him. He's 11. My grandpa picked up the phone and since he spends most of his days by himself I decided to chit chat with him. He's always happy to hear from me, I am his favorite grandchild. I know this for a fact because one time he was like:

You are my favorite grandchild.

It's nice to know you are loved. I told him how I just got off a job interview and it was sort of whatever. He was ecstatic and said I would for sure get the job. Then he talked to me about Obama and something about his job plan. I then told him I got my air conditioning fixed in my car, and he equally ecstatic about this piece of information.

Make sure you call me and update me on your life. I like to hear these things.

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Everything is going to be okay. I have to remind myself of that.

13.10.11

I cover myself like a turtle.

Los Angeles, CA Photo Credit: Sally Kikuchi

Perhaps a bit too frequently. That picture above is ridiculous. Why am I walking around like that? Why am I covering myself for no reason? And why am I hiding my purse underneath my jacket as if some motorbike is going to drive down the stairs and snatch it?

It's a horrible habit I picked up in Vietnam because #1 I didn't want people staring at me #2 The sun fucking burns and #3 I wanted to be unseen like a local.

Unfortunately, #3 wasn't accomplished so well in Vietnam:

"Where is that girl from? She seems strange."
Damn it. (to myself)
"Oh she's American"
"I knew it!"

Well I suppose wearing a baseball cap, sunglasses, tight purple pants, converses, flowy purple jackets from the forever 21 factory in Vietnam and a mask ain't local enough.

Now that I am back in America, the same conversation is being said:

"Where is that girl from? She seems strange."

Damn it. (to myself)

"Oh she just came from Vietnam"

"I knew it!"

I am so far from any kind of local now, I am in my own category. Strange.

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On another note I have been jogging lately. It's nice. So far I've seen lots of dog poop (people pick up your dog's shit! jesus), randomly thought of suburban stories to tell, reached 2 miles without stopping, said hi to a nice person, said thank you to nice people, saw a 4 car accident, asian people! and noticed that people keep they're lawns very nice.

I am still off face book until I find a job. That is my goal.

5.10.11

How about you just throw bird seeds at yourself.

The wise words of my friend Sally Kikuchi. That was her response when I told her that I was going to be the woman in the movie The Birds and I was going to stick birds in my hair and have blood drip from my head. Good point Sally Kikuchi why don't I just throw bird seeds so that the L.A. pigeons attack me.

I'm on a good morning high right now because some small mundane happy things happened this morning. I was feeling a bit shitty in my home but as with many things I feel unhappy whenever I am facing the mundane.

Sometimes the static seems to be more accompanying than the newscasters. The newscasters bring bad news. Tonight a shooting occurred in South L.A and killed a couple in their car. Research states that coffee will increase your blood pressure. The Michael Jackson court case is the most important thing and requires hours of coverage from our news station. Tomorrow will be a forecast of 96 degrees with some clouds coming in. Get ready to hit the beaches! Fuck you channel 2, 4, 5, 9, and fox news. You're fucking useless and pounce on the vulnerabilities of suburbia. My vulnerabilities. Static on the other hand brings you a different type of bad news. The type that makes you realize that life is more than just staring at a blank screen and receiving creativity and good fuzzy feelings. Although static does feel strangely warm at times. Warm like a trip on a sidewalk. It makes you feel like you are living. It makes you think that you are someone in this world and that your existence is actually meaningful. Static hands down trumps newscasters. Newscasters are the bringers of bad news. Static is the bringer of nothing - and that's better news.

Today in a feeling of being useless I decided to read this book that I brought to Vietnam but never opened. Drawing with the right side of your brain. I read the first chapter and stopped after reading the list of things that I need to buy. I have all those things, they are somewhere in my art box. I don't know where my art box went but when I went to go find it in the backyard I got scared of the black widows and stopped. So I stopped reading. Fucking poisonous spiders - what the fuck why do you exist?

Sometimes in the midst of living I forget what things mean. This usually occurs when I have to do something important, like applying for jobs and school. It's hard to be useful because for some reason our bodies naturally are useless. Perhaps this is because truth is, our lives are nothing but a speck in the abyss. The thought a bit daunting but true. You know it is that's why we don't pay attention to this truth and instead focus on things to distract us. Fears are hard to face, that's why we avoid them as much as possible. That is why I watch tv. That is why I lay on my bed staring at my computer waiting for something to happen. Waiting for creativity to happen for me.

The process of creating is anything but magical. The process of learning and becoming smart. The process of being someone. It's hard. It's extremely ugly and it doesn't look nice. Sometimes I forget this. Actually I forget this all the time and then I sit there forgetting that it's suppose to be just like this. Shitty feeling. Maybe the shitty feeling is not knowing what life will take you next. That shitty feeling is just what life throws at you. Many many people cannot handle that shitty feeling and will hide in different ways. Through statuses, through tweets, through photos, life suddenly feels good when you are able to tell your story. Tell your magical fucking story.

My story is quite magical you see. Pretty fucking magical. That's why I write this blog because I feel like I need to share this magic with you. The magic that is occasionally known as the shitty feeling.

You ever feel like your heart is being tugged? Like it's about to burst for a reason you are not willing to disclose? It's a secret and you're not going to tell nobody because you're scared. I'm scared and my heart is ready to burst for a reason that I am not willing to disclose. I think this is due to the fact that for many years I put my heart on pause and although I have recognized that love comes from a place that is not a lover, I am still not willing to let my heart be out there. I used to think that I did it once. That I let my heart burst and be out there but I was wrong. I was so very wrong. I have never let it go and for that my heart despises me. It hates me a bit because I never let it go, I never let it make mistakes and so it hurts. So now it tugs because that's all it knows. It's waiting to burst for a reason I am not willing to disclose.

Music opens up a certain part of my brain. Good shit - now I'm hungry and going to stimulate another part of my brain. Thank you suburbia madness.

4.10.11

I fell in love with L.A. recently.

And am thinking I can stay for quite a long time. Home never felt so good friends. L.A. is a beautiful city, too bad I didn't realize that before. I feel pulled to it - and like many other things I tend to trust my instinct or that "pull" if you will.