gangsters vs. robots.

it's one-thirty-something in the afternoon and i'm sitting at tully's. this tully's actually irritates me because it's usually super chilly, but i'm hiding out here for reasons relating to april fools day. as in, it's stupid. 

so yesterday the boss's adulterous girlfriend sent an email around telling everyone to wear black as if to play a joke on her man, i mean, the boss. 

me, naturally being the anti-school spirit kind of gal, deleted the email immediately and forgot about it. 

but today, when i walked in, i was greeted by a head-to-toe black-dressed "administrative assistant" and was told i was the only person that wasn't wearing black today. that was fine, and though i was somewhat annoyed, i was more shocked that people listened to oh-whats-her-name. but as the day progressed, literally everyone was wearing black.

wtf. 

so really, while i am actively fearful of becoming something of a pyramid robot, i am more disappointed in all of the others who i thought were true o-g's. guess i was wrong.

so anyway, here i am—drinking my 400 calorie grande caramel macchiato—freezing my ass off in pink.  

oh right, it's thursday.

it's interesting to think about how the smallest details can change so many things. and by the time you realize what's happening, everything is spiraling out of control. 

today was a weird day. and i can't help but wonder what would have happened if that email wasn't sent—if today was just an ordinary thursday. 

friends, decisions, capital letters, loneliness. 

(what if pickles didn't have fur?) 

i wish it all made sense. and my insides weren't turning metallic.andmyreflectionrobotic. 

today i took a mental smoke break outside with george-the-dog. and in mid-throw of the chuck-it, i let my impulses get the best of me. and i realized i need to do that one thing i was scared about last year. 

it's 8:33 p.m. 

when i close my eyes i realize a familiar jingle is on tv—the one that i used to think was annoying, then later put it on my phone as a ringtone—michael says 'pump it' and jim and pam are talking long distance. 

i know it's all going to be okay.

 

page 62.

"i was starting to see it was all pretty much the same thing. lucy and i had ceased to be distinguishable from everyone else and every day the ground was getting softer, swallowing us up a little bit more. we had each come to realize that no one was going to save our lives, and that if we wanted to save them ourselves, we only had one skill that afforded us any hope at all. writing is a job, a talent, but it's also the place to go in your head. it is the imaginary friend you drink your tea with in the afternoon."

page 38.

"he's insane. everything he says is insane, it's absolutely clear and i'm sure of it, but then he'll say one little thing that is so completely true that it undoes me. the true thing catches you off guard, and then everything starts to unravel, and you think about all the insane things he said and you start to wonder if maybe they were true too and maybe you just didn't want to believe it. that's what he's always telling me anyway, that i didn't believe the rest of it because i couldn't face the truth."

what the mother of pearl.

i'm eating peanut butter balls by the handful. they are delicious and i can't stop, won't stop. possibly for good reason. 

today was a shit day. and while i'd like to ignore the fact that i am sort of becoming one of those people—which, by the way, may be my worst fear—i can't not mention the reason my back has turned into one very solid hunk of pain. 

it was something of an adrenaline rush, really. details aside, was extinguishing one fire after the other, getting me a little high. and by the time i was at a point of exhaustion and belly ache, it was time for lunch. i met up with a friend and got to hear the exciting news about her new house. several 'oh shits, sures and omgs' later, i was back with my helmet on, hanging on for dear life on first and virginia. 

lots more flagged emails and wtf moments went by, and then finally, i noticed the clock anxiously near closure. 

okay. becoming quickly bored with my cluster-fuck recount, i'd like to note this:

1. i'm glad i never acquired an eating disorder, because i think i have many of the characteristics associated with them.

2. i'm pretty irritated and disappointed, but everything will be okay. 

3. walking home from caitlin's house wouldn't be half as bad if it wasn't cold as hell outside. and if i wasn't greeted with laughter. and if i had my keys.

4. i wish i had saltines to toss in my tomato soup. 

5. i really need to shake up my blog again. 

boo. 

hope next time i have something lovely to offer. 

just dance.

it's funny how we change. (or don't change.)

if someone asked me if i dance, i'd probably say no. but really, if you get enough alcohol in me and put on something catchy, i totally do, dance. 

i remember when i entered my first after school dance setting. i was in nebraska, in 6th grade, and totally clueless. attempting to sway to the rhythms of everyone else's beat, i faded in-and-out of those awful 'who let the dogs out'-'macarena' clusters. 

later then, once i became more confident in my lyrical sway, i began embracing my rebellious femininity. sneaking out, pretending we were going to the movie theatre for the second time that weekend, my friends megan and tiffaine and i would dart off to the 16-and-over club in kirkland. dynamite was this super sketch place that should not have allowed us innocent little girls into. but it was definitely one of my most ridiculous memories from those high school days. 

while i'm clearly not a girly-type girl these days, back then, silver hoop earings were a must. and, the tighter the jeans, the better. i remember this black lightning bolt shirt i would rock and think i was the shit. i must have looked like quite the little azn. so funny. 

and nowadays, while my bumping and grinding days are long gone, i have been known to, on occasion, make an appearance on the dance floor at r place. well, of course with at least one vodka tonic, a couple of rounds of darts and some britney, bitch. 

so perhaps we change and maybe we don't. but there are some things, such as scuffed up converse and alcohol-impaired memories that are items i'd like to hang onto. 

as for the lightning bolt shirt. i'm not so sure. 

lust. dot com.

i have this strange fascination with personal ads. perhaps it's the combination of writing something quirky about yourself in 200 words or less and the repetition of clicking refresh-refresh-refresh on your email browser that keeps me loyal.

i got my first computer when my mom trucked me, unwillingly, to the rolling plains of the midwest. my best friend shared my first weeks with me in our new brick rambler, complete with a tornado-proof unfinished basement and pool table. 

michelle, my bff, introduced me to internet chatting, yahoo! and, essentially, the world-wide-web. in those days, internet was not a way of life like coffee or flintstones chewable vitamins at breakfast. in fact, i remember the struggle of keeping my monthly internet consumption to 100-hours, as that was our rate plan back before unlimited was all the rage.

anyway, michelle and i would spend hours (in closely regulated increments, of course), chatting with jamie-somebody's-in-north carolina and imhawt4u-16-m-tx. spending time with these distant yet comforting strangers perhaps made me feel less alone once michelle went back to washington, but also curious about the differences between my life and those on my online buddy list. 

during the four years i somehow spent living in nebraska, my online habits continued, yet slowed as real life friendships took over. 

now, at 24, my heart still gets a little giddy when i hear one of my friends has a w-seeking-m post on craigslist. or when i sit in my room, and listen to the laughter in the other room of two girls who met on match.com. 

i suppose it's only natural then, that i would want to spend my life thinking about these lovely possibilities that the internet offers. and it should be no wonder that i enjoy the sound of my keys clicking methodically on my macbook, forming frisky little something-or-others on my blog post. 

so, what's next, you ask? i'm not sure. i can imagine this obsession weaving some kind of magic or inspiration in a grad school application essay, or more simply, continued to be explored in all-too-familiar word docs disguised as personal expression in the wooden chairs of capitol hill coffee shops. 

until i figure out the hows-the-whys-and-the-wtf-does-this-all-really-mean's, i think i'll continue to sit here, in my comfy bed, browse the craigslist i saw you ads and listen to the laughter in the other room. 

sometimes, at work.

i get so satisfied when people you don't expect to get you, get you. i shared one of these moments recently with a co-worker. one year ago i would have cringed at the thought of investing time in building such work relationships. but now, while i do feel more satisfied with the way i spend my 8-5, i'm also much more attached to the people i nod at while i re-fill my coffee cup in the too-tiny kitchen. 

this co-worker of mine was genuine and real. and she wasn't at all bothered like i assumed she would be when i told her how a small piece of me died when i attended her diversity-something-or-other work function. in fact, she looked me in my slightly-nervous eyes and said she was disappointed too and respected my feedback. 

so while there may be no point in trying to save the sometimes-oblivious and overly-eager-to-understand-elitists that i spend my days drafting one-pagers for, other things, such as human connection, are blossoming. and that might just keep me holding on, glancing at the top of the pyramid, for a bit longer.

untitled list from that one time last year.

dear blog, i am sorry i did not post you until now. you feel familiar.

--

1. dreamt up black and white fragments. sarcastic phrases in bold faced fonts.

3. broke a promise to myself. dear blog, i just cannot censor you. so i'll change my intentions.

7. sorted through once loved items. placed them into boxes i wished were smaller, more attractive.

7. endured the first funeral for myself—sitting on the floor—of my wonderfully silent capitol hill apartment.

8. lived. as the word 'therapy' paraded out of my mom's mouth.

4. questioned happiness. in all its relative seduction.

[x]. accepted life. a new life. for my self and my sanity.

10. remembered. how it feels to be close to you, lying in bed, on sunday morning.

the bachelor and facebook.

so on friday i got a bizarre voicemail from the owner of the company saying he wanted me to join him in a meeting in 30 min. friday being the super busy day that it was, made me instantly irritated and confused with this request, and i approached him asking what it was all about. after several longish pauses and awkward distant glances, he mentioned something about a "bachelor" and how we were going to talk to this bachelor soon. 

i quickly realized it was the bachelor that is viewed monday's on abc. gross that i know this, but google is my bff. 

nonetheless, after a couple of girls fluffed their hair and checked their makeup in the event that the bachelor may glance their way, whip a rose out of his jacket and call the whole reality-tv-thing off, i met this so-called bachelor. it was bizarre, and i've never been involved in such a meeting disguised of business and pleasure. and having never seen this single suitor on tv or elsewhere, i found him yes, overly tanned, but definitely tv-charming. 

oddly enough, after this 30-minute meeting, i've exchanged a couple of emails with him and his partner. while i won't get into what our meeting entailed, i offered a tacky-yet-hilarious suggestion for facebook for his business plan, which gets me to my second point.

i'm back on facebook. i spent around a year talking shit about it and not missing its presence in my online social networking pastimes, but i'm totally digging it now. let's just forget about those people who i find in my friend list that i don't even recall sharing conversations with, because whatever, that's beside the point. i still don't even get why or how i can play the oregon trail with my network or wtf a hottie rating is. perhaps i'm just not meant to be a facebook pro. is it time to say goodbye to myspace though? i mean, that little notifications icon on the lower right nav bar is my fave feature and possibly the only reason i'm so hooked. 

ehh. i still need to work-proof my facebook or create one of those limited profiles. i wouldn't care, but my group membership in "vagina motherfuckers" may be seen as unprofessional to some. 

diversity day.

it sounds like such a cliche, but a week ago my work had a diversity/cultural "training" workshop. it was the same ole, which brought me back to my college days of sitting in a circle while the loud people spoke out about their disparities, wisdom, whathaveyou. 

as just one of three "people of color," i felt nervous and intimidated to join my ultra-PC-elitist colleagues. i didn't want to hear them talk about the things that i assumed they knew nothing about—the things that feel so close to me. but i did it and it was okay. just okay. 

i mean, these sort of issues are intense. they kick my ass. call me narcissistic, call me a thinker. i have these issues. and i love them. not love love, but love them. they make me whole. they make me fucked up. and even though i'm happy these days, these 23 days of january, i'm still clinging to that familiar handle of pessimism. 

anyway. diversity day. the moment that is fixed to my memory like a price tag that refuses to remove itself from a new paperback, is when we were numbered off and placed in a circle, face-to-face, and forced to give each other compliments. why is giving or receiving compliments such a task for me? i am cringing just thinking about it. my compliments were inadequate and not as thoughtful as they should have been (for certain people). 

so, i'm kind of sad about that. and as a gay, asian, adopted, blah blah, half-glass-empty kinda girl, i say hello. and don't put me in a box. 

the taste of january.

since my last post, i've allowed my hoofs to step forward, with ease. and rather than dreading how that next gulp of anger will feel after its defecated on my tastebuds, i've been breathing deeper. fuller. 

the wound has healed and now a tight little line sits on my paw like a smirk. who would have thought it would take a serrated knife to cut through my anguish. 

last night, as we swooped down 65th toward our comfortable "studio," i admitted how much better i felt. it's interesting to step back and listen to yourself talk candidly about things that others take for granted. things that i will take for granted again in a couple of years, assuming this isn't just fakery. 

and rather than those intense solo scornful-face-making-competitions in mirrors, i've been drafting my mental list of "plans" for this year. so far, i hope to: check out local happy hours and music venues, continue to hunt around for the perfect latte, adopt more plants to fill the larger space and convince pickles to become more active.

 

perhaps a festive color-coordinated sweatsuit will entice her. she's bound to cause double-takes in an earthy green or pink. i can hear it now, the neighborhood cat who i occasionally spot in the front yard will meow in the window, as if to say, "damn pickles, you are tearin' it up."