It's the first rainy day in Seattle for weeks, and after the downpour, I thought it would be nice to go for a walk and pick up some yogurt and after rain shots of the garden.
As you can see, the macros on my Olympus Stylus 1000 seems to be working wonderfully. However, I've been reading so much about the Canon Powershot S90 (or S95) that I'm really very tempted to get one. On one hand, I'm telling myself I've had the Olympus for three years so it's really time to get an upgrade that handles night shots better... yet on the other hand, spending $400 on a camera when I'm a student with no stable source of income seems just extravagant and unnecessary. Considering that I can manipulate the Olympus pretty well, perhaps the Powershot won't make that much of a difference in my photographs.
Tomatoes on the Vine. The plant fell over because the fruits were too large.
Leaf
Leaf and Dewdrops
More leaf and dewdrops
Magnolia Seed (Pod)
I just looked out my window and noticed one of my neighbors standing on his porch with an acoustic guitar. It looks like he's tuning. What on earth??? We live on a quiet residential neighborhood in Seattle, so street musicians are generally not appreciated to a great extent. I do hope he's not planning to start playing... unless he's REALLY good.
I am growing FAT!!!
It's wonderful that the world is growing to love curvy women. Unfortunately, I grew up with the "skinny" and I still WANT to be skinny. Being totally obsessive compulsive, I can tell you the calories of anything within 10 cal/ serving. Fudgecakes. &*%$. Yeah, it's sick.
I have a little voice in the back of my head - Mr. Reason - telling me that with a BMI of around 21.6, I'm not FAT... but I'm not skinny either. Look at freaking Audrey Hepburn! Look at her!
Gorgeous.
So elegant and yet playful...
See in my distorted, stupid head, no one but women who look like Audrey in a evening gown have any chance at a love life. Obviously not true. But still... in pursuit of utter perfection, you convince yourself of the need to look like Audrey.
Make you almost wanna take up smoking or coke. Jeez.
Anyway, on the topic of looks and dating... funniest thing happened. Random guy, Mediterranean, slightly pudgy and greasy... pulled up next to me couple of days ago and offered to give me a ride. He had this kind of goofy smile and looked so.... bleh. Anyway, being the idiot I am, I pulled out my really confused look and went "huh"?
He smiled reached over and opened the passenger door and offered to buy me a coffee.
CLICK.
Ok, Eeeeeeew.... I mean, sweet-ish, but WHAT the heck?
I smiled, apologized and basically ran off. Yeah. Mature right?
I think I still look like I'm in high school sometimes. A random guy who couldn't have been more than 17 (still had his HS gym bag. Yeah) tried to get my number a couple weeks ago. Painful. Where are all the GOOD MEN? Seriously. I feel like I have a loser-underage magnet attached to the back of my head. I don't remember the last time a cute, intelligent guy asked me out. I am DEAD SERIOUS. Totally bad for my self esteem.
I hate to perpetuate the stereotype, but there are SO few straight, cute boys at NYU. NOT that there aren't any! Those of you straight hotties: just realize you are one of the select few. The reason girls don't throw themselves at you? They think you are gay. No joke.
We see a well groomed guy in:
1. Lacrosse, RL, A&F etc. polos: we think preppy gay.
2. Armani, Hugo Boss, Bottega Veneta, Miyake suits: we think fashionable gay. You might as well pull out a Chanel clutch to match those Prada shoes.
3. Skinny jeans, piercings, tattoo: we think: artsy gay: rolled out of the closet in with canvas in one hand and extra dry short cappacino in the other.
There's really no winning.
Honestly, if a girl thinks you're gay in NYC... just be flattered. Seriously, I think it's a good thing. Unless you are really ooooooozing testosterone in the most Texas cowboy way, there will always be room for confusion.
I know these are horrible stereotypes, and yes I am hanging my head in shame... but you have to admit they are funny.
Case and point; my friend showed me these a couple months back:
God, check out Adam's abs *melt*
I'm glad to see that people can take what was such an explosive issue more lightly now... I hope this means we are phasing this into the personal arena, where one's personal preferences are just that: personal.
Sometimes what you need is some whimsy, and they find you...
After some pretty delicious chocolate bars from Franz, a friend and I wandered around a bit. We went to Anthropologie... which was actually having a sale! So if you want to score a couple cute shirts cheap, it's time to hit the store.
Went to a cute little shop in the U-Village, called Fireworks. Wandered around for EVER! It's full off odd little trinkets and gadgets. Almost perfect for random last minute gifts. There's masks, cups, novelty cheese graters, gift boxes. The whole place of floating with whimsy...See the cute hand puppets? Adorable!
Another little random sketch I found from way back when.
Anyway, ever wonder what it's like to do yoga outside at night, by candlelight? Well, full of mosquitoes, actually. I got bitten eight times from a short 30 minutes of Vinyasa. Perhaps this would be much more idyllic in the spring, when mosquitoes aren't thirsting for a blood meal to begin their mating frenzy.
I can't wait to go back to New York and start my yoga again in studio. I do love yoga to my own music and outside... but I do miss the guidance of a good guided session with an instructor.
Ok, love the dancing in this. You have to wait about 40 seconds in before the dancing starts... but just watch!
In other news... eh, talk about bad bridesmaid dresses! At Prince Nikoloas of Greece and Tatiana Blatnik's wedding, the bridesmaids look like they walked off of Disney's Little Mermaid... before she got her legs. Just take a look.
So I'm digging around in my storage room, and I found some sketches from way back in high school and some from Freshman year of college. Wow they look weird... but still fun to star at.
Something else I learned: scan your images!
I took photos of mine and now they all look warped and scary!
Maybe I'll upload some more recent sketches/paintings one of these days, but for now, these will have to do.
In the spirit of the idea that EVERYONE needs to know this song, I will include this:
Much <3 to Gibbard, Death Cab and Postal Service.
By the way, anyone keeping track of the controversy surrounding Empire State Building vs. 15 Penn Plaza? The owners of the ESB are raising a huge fuss because 15 Penn Plaza could mar its towering stature among the midget buildings of Midtown. Ok... I see your point, you know, there is a compensation system set up for one property creating a devaluation in the price of another... why is this not used?
Anyhow, NY legislature voted for the building, which means that it's gonna get built. However, in today's NYT, an article suggested that the fate of 15 Penn Plaza was partly in the hands of Feng Shui (When Feng Shui Help Determine a Deal's Fate).
Really?
I mean, it's really not that weird, I suppose. Western culture let religious or cultural beliefs dictate business too. How many of you Satanists out there find it easy to get hired after giving your potential employers beautiful perorations on your deepest felt beliefs?
Yeah, well. However you wanna argue it, it really amounts to the same thing.
First don't get me wrong, I LOVE NYU, New York, and all that Jazz...
BUT within the past two months, I have called NYU Bursar at least 14 different times. I am not exaggerating.
After negotiating through the droll phone tree tinged with a Brooklyn accent, you are directed eventually to a living, breathing person. Of course, the chance that someone will pick up the phone is pretty slim... but it happens.
Then there are the innumerable transfers... "...you need to speak to financial aid about that..." or "you need to speak to the registrar about that..." And of course, Registrar or Financial Aid will need to transfer you to someone else because, well, handling your payment is just so complicated.
And I'm not even asking for more money, I'm trying to pay the school for heaven's sake.
Little suggestion: try some restructuring where one individual is responsible for ALL the paperwork of a set of students. Then I won't have to budget in at least an hour to just speak to NYU Student Services!
For those of you Newbies to NYU Student Services, here's some tips:
1. Ask for the name of the representative you are talking to
2. Avoid 11:30AM - 1:00PM EST, NO ONE will answer your call. You will be put on hold for forever.
3. Take note, take notes, take notes
4. Have all information (student ID, Check number, account summary, loan MPNs, etc) All in front of you. Don't let the representative "go" and call back later because you need to dig through your Himalayas of paperwork. You will get someone different when you call back and will need to explain everything again
5. Ask "what do you recommend?" if hit in the face with seemingly unsolvable situation.
6. Ask to be transferred to your dean. Better, GO to your dean's office.
7. Be patient. They are trying to help you, even if NYU's making their job near impossible.
I saw this earlier and... well, it just reflects my life so perfectly. I actually thought to myself "Ctrl Z" once when I presented something completely off base. And well, last five years could use some "Ctrl Z", and I wouldn't mind some "F1" with the general direction of my life.
On the lighter side, this is one of those things that make me laugh and cringe. My favorite videos from Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center!
Oh, and I LOVE this kid!!!! Though annoying as hell, I still find Fred funny for some bizarre reason... His sad puppy face look exactly like that of a good friend of mine. I wonder if Fred's gay too, the voice kind of broke my gaydar...
If you could read Chinese, the "Migratory Bird Going North" blog mentioned in March of 2010 in the New York Times article China's Cyberposse is really something of a read. 姜岩(Jiang Yan) wrote everyday leading up to her first suicide attempt on the 27th of December, 2007. On the whole, it felt as if I was reading a modern, Chinese version of Sylvia Plath's Bell Jar. Jiang Yan describes her decision to commit suicide two months prior to the fact and then the process in which she managed to obtain a total of 300 sleeping pills.
What really stands out is the inherent dark humor saturated throughout the post. The juxtaposition of the mundane and the humorous next to the idea of death is... well, eerily beautiful.
On December 25, 2007, at 3:00 AM, She wrote Last Christmas eve, because it's the last, it is the last. A while ago GeGe asked me how I passed Christmas Eve, how did I pass it? I went out in the afternoon, got another hundred or so sleeping pills. If a person takes 300 sleeping pills, can survive 5 to 6 hours without first aid, that only proves that: 1. Fake drugs are everywhere and flourishing 2. Fully prove the theory that too much bad will turn to good 3. Invincibility against all poison is not only in novels 4. Miracle of modern science, rising from the dead 5. Curse of ten thousand years, even the god of underworld fears me. Went to KFC at night, so many people. There was nowhere to sit, thought about it a bit and then ordered take out. The street is full of couples and pairs, those left to themselves all scurried hurried past. I ate my candied Hawthorn slowly, I couldn't feel the cold, my hands froze without my awareness Walked through the front door, turned on the light and looked at my watch: 7:45PM. Resumed watching my cartoon until now. Nothing unexpected happened, a very peaceful Christmas Eve, my last Christmas Eve.
There was more, much more. Day after day she lived her life looking at the day that will come. The fact that she viewed the taking of her own life so calmly is terrifying... and it reminds me of those little dark spells when everything felt... pointless.
I feel a little pain growing in the spaces in my head, a little useless bit of sorrow. I hope her soul found peace.
As I would like to think of it:
"Those who are dead, are not dead, they are just living in my head"- Coldplay
That song, 42, got me through the passing of two of my friends and my grandfather within the past couple of years. It's the reason I can't bring myself to delete their number from my phone. They are simply alive in a different way now; in my head I am keeping them alive. Frozen, but alive.
I do have a bone to pick with the Chinese mental health authorities though. Jiang Yan attempted suicide, why was she released a day later? Others I know who attempted anything remotely similar were placed under constant surveillance in a psychiatric ward for weeks on end. Why was she left to herself? Perhaps her suicide cannot have been prevented as she was beyond determined... but I think it's arguably irresponsible of the medical authority at her hospital to release her so soon and with so little precaution.
After her death, Jiang's blog became public and the Chinese web public became enraged at what they saw as the cause of Jiang's death: her cheating husband and his girlfriend. In a fury of vigilante attacks, Beijing became nearly unlivable for the two. While there is no question that the behavior of Jiang's husband Wang Fei contributed significantly to the demise of his wife, the public retaliation seemed rather... well, excessive. Each of the vigilante took on an impersonal story personally and found it not only fitting, but necessary to react.
On whole, the public response seems to me a residual factor of the Cultural Revolution, during which private actions deemed "improper" or "detrimental to the collective good" are public reprimanded severely in mandatory meetings. It seems that Chinese people really managed to internalize this possessive attitude toward others' private actions, and feel a compulsion to punish amoral behavior of others as they see it as within their right.
So Chinese people cries for liberty and privacy against government intrusion, and yet its citizens have this intrusive attitude ingrained in their behavior, culture. I really recommend self inflection.
I would like to contrast that to the American indifference: burn the flag if you want, just don't do it on my lawn.
Of course, there are exceptions: Jessica Slaughter debacle. I would just like to say that I can see why she pissed so many people off. If I'm not such a Muggle, I would send her a Howler. However, the difference with Slaughter is that her actions are not intended to be private, for god's sake she posted it all over Youtube. Of course people will respond, the thing is practically a video forum.
Well, before I run off, I just want to say that I remember how it felt sitting in a small room in the winter, feeling helpless, hopeless. Even the things I love fade to this disinterested grey. Everything was covered in pain and the littlest thing was too much. Being alone hurt more than anything else, but the intrusion of company was too much for my brain to handle.
Everything hurt. I hope that if I ever meet someone who felt anything like that, I could help them somehow. The pain doesn't go away, but you can try drowning it out with life. It still hurts, but in a different way.
