Better feelings

Today was not a total disaster after all! It was on the verge of being like the other day where I was being sad and then everyone I spoke to that day was so upset over one thing. Ah, yes. It was the day that the scramble for mini 2 came out.

Everyone was just so down earlier in the day… L.D. finally figured out his consequences today, but at least there is no more looming horror of the unknown punishment. And I feel bad for V.J.. I recall when I spoke to D.L. on the island saying the same thing in the same desperate tone:

“How did you do it? How did you pass?”

I really felt for her… But I hope the appointments she had for today with the academic counselors were able to help her out. I think there is a downside to graduating from Dominican; professors were too nice to us.

Since I was so miserable yesterday, I tried my best to distract myself. I made an effort to clean my room. I feel that my sprawled out emotions can also be attributed to how much I messed up my room. It’s not completely clean, but it is a significant improvement – and plus I have lots of clean clothes now.

I watched The Proposal with my ate, and at some point Jack came to join us in her room. I’m glad; there might be some positive growth in my relationship with Jack. I’m getting away with petting his back, helping him up from the floor, and he’ll fly to me now and then if I’m in kitchen!

Later on, my sister and I went to Target. We were going to hit up the nearby Starbucks until it closed, but my ate decided against it. That would’ve been the only time I would feel like writing in my novel. Supposedly, our ISP comes with free wifi at Starbucks, so I want to take advantage of that at a Barnes & Noble. Aaaand, at Target, I bought underwear. Woow, I bought Hanes panties for the first time and they are SO comfortable and cute. Boy briefs. Haha @_@

And L.D. felt better at the end of the day!

And I found a free concert for a Sing-Along Messiah. It’s in Sunnyvale, but that’s really not that far at all. I’m so excited to sing at the concert. Things were never the same after the talent pool at my high school downgraded, and they subsequently couldn’t perform Messiah anymore. The second time I sang at a Messiah concert was at my college. That was fun… I sang with old people No one my age seems to know how to sing Messiah. But it was awesome… everyone had their own personal copy of Messiah, and everyone in the audience was performing. I hope this Sunnyvale performance will be like that!

annoying feeling

*sigh* I can’t seem to shake this feeling.

I think this will pass…

I can’t meditate right now, not with this feeling.

and I am worried for V.J., she is going through the same crap I am going through. Her grandfather insists I help her listen to him so his advice can be heard, but I can’t from here… She’s too busy to go into new things, and I have my own personal life to mend. Sorry Lolo, I promise I will do something when we spend time together.. but not right now.

I may I need to treat myself today.. but for now… I guess I’ll work on making my room spotless.

Hmm…sad faces.

I skipped mass today in the morning. I wondered how much I really wanted to go to the morning mass at Holy Cross. Did I want to attend mass with a priest whose accent is almost difficult to understand, a terrible choir and perhaps feel myself in spirit? Or… attend a beautifully decorated church, greatly maintained mass with my mom and not feel the spirit?

For some reason, even though the little voice in my head told me to get up, I decided not to feel the spirit. And even though I woke up well ahead of church time, I decided against getting ready. I sort of knew by that inclination that today would be an off day.

I mainly stayed indoors tending to little things here and there. My dad was not working so Jack didn’t quite want to spend time with me. I don’t know why I fell into some odd depression. Lots of things ended up on my mind – too many things floating in your mind can be unhealthy for you.

For one, I do not like it much when I am losing confidence in certain people, in myself; pondering the “what ifs” with other people, being somewhat superstitious and paranoid; and losing respect in things of which I thought highly. Perhaps the weather conditions brought on this heaviness. It was far too cold for my liking, and I ended up curled in bed with my body pillow trying to retain my body heat. Sounds a little pathetic. I wish I could tolerate the cold better than this! Today was such a downpour of my spirits.

G.A. posted funny videos on my facebook today. That was perhaps the one time in the day where I truly laughed, but I felt it was forbidden humor. I only knew him from T.J. and I was avoiding him on purpose for fear of making myself apparent to T.J.. He has some great friends whom I think will make some lasting memories with me, but I have my own friends to talk to. I should leave T.J. at peace and do my part to prevent anyone from clinging to each other.

But then I visited V.E.’s profile because I wanted to hang out with him sometime. Our planned dinner is long over due, and T.J. left comments on his profile. He had been invisible to me this whole time, and suddenly I spot some remnant of his existence and it was all so surreal to me. I had this feeling like he didn’t previously exist, and seeing his comment was kind of… a reminder that he was still around. Weird.

Anyway, I suspect the foundation to this wretchedness are some power cords from R.B. So I will have to clear my energy blocks tonight through reiki.

C’mon, Joyce. There had to be something today that was uplifting to you. …….. My mom and I got along quite well today! I actually thought she would be mad at me for throwing a hissyfit last night because I didn’t see her all day until around 6pm. She barged into my room and turned on my lights while I was trying to warm up like some hamster, and then left my lights on. But it seems that after attending mass with her, she was going to make a conscious effort to look for my Lambchops puppet.

I really like the idea that my mom has to look for a puppet for me. Maybe it makes me feel young again. And the fact that she said it like it was a bright idea was enlightening. “I know! I bet it’s in the plastic bags in the basement! I couldn’t have packed it in a balikbayan box yet!” And I’m mildly surprised that she knows what Lambchops looks like. Oh geeee, thanks Ma.

Hmm, everyone in the house calls my mom “Mommy”. I call her Mommy too. But I’m the only one who calls her Mama, or when I’m needy I’ll just give out a nasally “maaaaah”. Tatay wishes we could call him dad…daddy… or Pa. I don’t know why we call him Tatay, and my mom Mommy.

Why did I get into this topic? I have no idea. Through a series of vent-ful paragraphs on the vices of myself and others, I was seeking some positivity through all of it and I managed to find it in talking about my parents. How rewarding. End entry.

Of unknown relatives

I just got back from the baptism party at my cousin’s house. I always feel somewhat awkward going to family reunions on this side of the family because I don’t really know much of my mom’s side. Perhaps that’s for the better since I now and then discover stray relatives over whom people argue the position of cousin or aunt/uncle.

This party was no different than all the others – still a good party overall. I met relatives I have never met before. New cousins who I will most likely not remember :[.

My uncle has gotten thin by old age, I noticed. He was the one who made cheek pinching a horrible experience during my childhood, and he’d always clasp my chin like a jumbo-clip to an opened bag of potato chips to turn my head in any direction. I was sitting down, and found myself suddenly with the same nostalgic feeling: looking up at my uncle who held my chin in much the same way.

He said with a stern and judgmental face, “You’ve grown more cute.”

I shrug out of his grasp with my silly fishy face and continued eating.

Actually, he wasn’t the only one who gave me that kind of attention. For some reason every one wanted to talk about how beautiful I was, like I grew into my age or something. And I’d do the obligatory, “Oh, no! But I gained weight!” kind of nonsense comment, and we’d all laugh.

And some old relatives whom I’ve never met worked their way into the subject as my mom introduced me in Tagalog. My mom still thinks I don’t understand a thing of Tagalog, but I managed to catch the whole thing. I’m not sure how to feel about an auntie calling me the jackpot for being 23 years old, beautiful and single. I think I accidentally laughed when she said that all the guys must be going after me. I don’t understand all of this!

My dad… met some guys in the backyard who got him to drink six bottles of beer, so I had to patiently wait for my mom to play with the newborn, force my dad to down the rest of his beer, then give the meanest look. My logic is to send out negative vibes and leave a bratty expression on my face until my parents were embarrassed. Not exactly mature, or socially acceptable, but I was getting fed up with the “Filipino time” and was not appreciating my poor test of patience when I had to drive.

I didn’t get to talk to L.D. today, I guess I missed him. :\

I’m tired! D: + Cookies!

The mark of a true introvert: getting upset that you’ve been out having a life and you haven’t gotten a chance to be cooped up in your room. :[

I just got home from hiking at the Forest of Nisene Marks in Aptos, CA. The air was to easy breathe, the town was quaint, and the forest was a beauty. I want to say that I enjoyed myself, and I truly did, but I couldn’t enjoy myself simply “being” there; the reason being that R.B. is strangely odd in conversation. This is what I meant when before we had different perceptions in life. I will have a tendency to say things that are, by science, in and of itself completely correct, whereas R.B. will correct me somehow by a flutter of colorful words passed down from one piece of literature to another without getting to the root of things — yet, with it said in so many novels, he pushes for the point to be more correct than a source I call the College Textbook. o_O

I wanted to just walk in nature and appreciate things, but it is inevitable to require some deep conversation about religion, music, school, traveling — all of which R.B. was right (in even my own chosen topics.) I don’t want to say that conversation with R.B. is bad, but many times it can be exhausting.

We stopped at the Aptos Creek along Porter’s trail. We crossed the water to the more sunny and spacious area where R.B. sat on a mossy log to do his nanowrimo writing, and I sat by the water meditating and treating myself with reiki. After about 30 minutes of treatment, I joined him in writing with my little pink, square-shaped Deary Lou notebook (untouched for many years.) I ended up writing perhaps the final chapter to my novel.

It was a strange chapter; perhaps I was letting my imagination run wild. I think the end truly requires a sense of imagination in order to visualize yourself opening your eyes to a gradient of rainbow colors around you with angels and fairies the main travelers in this dimension. I did not eat anything in the forest. And I don’t know if that will actually be put into my novel. Maybe my novel would have something to do with returning to your childhood where you are receptive to spirituality unbeknownst to the parents. I don’t get my novel. lol

Afterward, we made our way back to the car, and got burritos at La Vic’s. While I’d love to hike on a weekly basis, I’m not sure if I can handle R.B. in that high a dose.

————————————————-

It felt as though yesterday almost didn’t exist in memory though encountering a surprise package in the middle of the day made it quite the memorable one.

I was writing for my novel when my brother approached me with a package. My brother is constantly ordering car parts in the mail, and it was so surprising for him to finally give me  a package for once. He had, undoubtedly, assumed the box was for him.

“For me..??” “Mmhmm..” “What is it?!?!?”  ”Idnno” and he walks away.

In much contrast to my bored state, I sat on my chair with the box in my lap shaking it this way and that and struggling so hard to open it. It was apparently well wrapped in packaging tape. I finally managed to open two of the three sides, and peered inside with not much to see in the darkness other than random confetti pieces and a card taped on the opening flap with “DAVID” written in the center. Even though I hadn’t completely opened the box, or understood what the actual content was (other than a hint of cookie smell), I paused for a brief moment to give a big smile. Like this.

With all of the emotions I’ve been experiencing back in medical school up to today, I sort of forgot how it felt to be pleasantly surprised until I opened my box. ♥  Thank you  ♥

Joyce (5:40:41 PM): omg I hate baked goods but I keep eating these
Scott (5:40:55 PM): oh yeah!  you don’t like cookies
Joyce (5:41:03 PM): oh yeah! you know about that!
Joyce (5:41:20 PM): apparently, if crushes give me cookies it works out just fine
Scott (5:41:50 PM): how adorable
Joyce (5:41:57 PM): *cookies!*

stuff in my hair

Yucky D: I do not like that I have chemicals in my hair. I forgot that if you style your hair, you have crap in it, and that means you have to wash it out at the end of the day. Ugh, the things women do just to get by the day.

I complain about simply straightening my hair for a day. Maybe I should try to be more feminine @_@

nanowrimo write-in event.

Wow!

I stayed up late last night, feel most rushed and compelled to do something about being so behind all the other nanowrimo novelists. I wrote some 1,000 words, and retired for the night and awoke early the next day. Earlier than usual out of excitement or eagerness I suppose. I jumped on that novel and punched out 1,500 words. And attending the write-in event this evening helped me put an extra 1,200 words.

I quickly learned upon approaching this party of laptoppers in the cafe that there were regulars, and everyone was friendly and encouraging with each other, and almost everyone had a dorky writer’s personality. I shouldn’t make fun of their humor… it is still highly intellectual and funny, and can be compared to nerdy science talk in which I often engage myself. *sigh* And almost everyone knew about what other people were writing.

R.B. asked about what I was writing for the first time, and for some reason I was a little self-conscious to talk about it. Maybe the notion that I was not a true writer and I felt like a n00b in that group. Maybe  because I knew at least half the room was attentive at the newcomer’s contribution even though the jazz music in the cafe drowned out most quiet conversations.

“Er… I’m writing about spirituality,” I pretended like I was too busy working to fully converse.

R.B. raised his eyebrows like he was impressed with some new age thing.

“And science,” and I could feel silent eyebrows raising without looking up.

“And medicine,” and to that R.B. commented, “Wow. I did not think you were the type to write something like that!”

Does that mean it’s good? Does that mean I did something decent? Does it mean he thinks I’m aiming at something profound and meaningful? Or does it mean that I’m going way over my head?

I don’t think I thought this out thoroughly. I find myself struggling to explain the way energy works and the way energy feels. It becomes increasingly difficult to describe this in novel-esque terms that are more in beautiful and artistic terms rather than what describes the laws of Physics. But then again I think to myself that no one person could ever write what I am venturing into. And that, in itself, it freaking awesome.

D.N. also showed up at the write-in, and we were all able to share the big comfy couch! Kind of like Friends at Coffee Central. Half way into it, I started talking to L.D. to sort of snap out of a writer’s block and to perhaps find new interest in my writing. Four hours makes quite the difference now… but conversation is still rewarding with him, especially at the end of the day when I’ve come to wind down from my activities.

Though, I’m pretty sure people knew I wasn’t writing much after that since I had a greatly amused smile on my face, and was typing rapidly. Haha–

Note to self: I am entirely grounded from shopping until Thanksgiving sales come around.

Chillin’ at mom’s

It is such an outlandish feeling to bump into members of my direct family at my mother’s house. Why is it so much of a surprise to see each other here? … -_-

Nanowrimo – my preface

http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/user/598657

Owl city is the awesome.

Today was such a beautiful day; clear blue skies, not too hot, sweet breeze, perfect setting for an outing with a friend. That’ll teach me a lesson to stay indoors being a hopeless wreck. In my restless state, I managed to put on a pair of jeans and my island flip flops and just walk out into my neighborhood. I was balancing on a high curb that separated the sidewalk from a person’s yardwork; and once I had established my balance, I looked at the sky and realized what a great day it would have been for swimming. I would have loved going to SJSU and swimming in that big pool that tastes like a salty ocean of body sweat. That’s right, I missed that gross feeling. More so, I missed the swimming. I will have to eventually dig out my gym clothes to run my miles around the neighborhood at this point because I’m disliking this sluggish feeling. Maybe this is a positive sign that I am no longer clinging to my sweats and the little niche I’ve made on my bed – maybe this is a sign that I am starting to move on. Thinking all of this, I jumped off the curb that rose a few feet above the sidewalk, and for once smiled as though I didn’t care who else was looking at me in public.

I was pondering this as I, for once, sat in the backseat of a car tonight. Watching the lights of cars on the freeway whiz by as though I was traveling through time. I’m not saying I’ll never be sad again hereafter, but I think I am in a good position.

I did a forbidden thing, but perhaps it was still a good thing. My AIM settings were set to logging chat dialogues, and I decided to read the time I decided to block T.J. in medical school. I was kind of astonished at how incredibly depressed I was, and how peaceful he was, and how that was a sign to me that we were no longer sharing mutual feelings. So, why now, do I hurt because he wants this separation, when I once did it because I was the one hurt.  This separation… in fact, was desired from both sides. It feel illogical now to feel sad.

Granted, I’ve yet to describe any kind of feeling I currently feel or felt in the past. I talk about this like it’s some psychological disorder. Or some health condition that prevents me from feeling. Oh, that’s right. I am going to remove this thyroid. … What if my thyroid is really the reason for my changing? Good riddance to it then. I keep thinking it’s not the reason; yet, as I type my thyroid is doing it’s little slow jab. Slooowly cringing at me and wrangling itself in dull pain. I’ve lately been describing my thyroid as though it has emotions of its own. Maybe that is just the humor in making light of this.

So, I decided to do nanowrimo. I don’t know how I feel about that. I don’t know what to write, either. I think I’m deciding to write about the reiki experience since I wanted to make my asian-american crap a play. I’ve never written a play either. I certainly don’t watch/read enough of them to have a firm grasp on it all. For a mere instant, I thought of writing about love. wtf. I aspire to do things beyond my comprehension. lol. But at least this reiki subject will be interesting to others. I will be like a mini-Etty Hillesum!

Lastly, I went to IKEA today and I saw some big money tree plants. They are larger than William Robert, and they have multiple trunks that are braided together. I looked at the rich leaves like they were majestic creatures. “William Robert used to look like that,” I thought. I thought I was cheating on my poor plant. And then I thought of the leaves and the numerous branches and thick trunks as though they were boisterous and obnoxious. Like they had some personality for me to judge, I scrunched my face and thought, “Not at all like William Robert,” and chose my 98.5% withered plant over the beautiful greens.

Maybe I will write that novel afterall.