009: Between the downbeat

I cannot beat myself up for the lack of writing. I can only admit to myself that consistent writing takes time, practice, and planning. I’ve not allotted those key aspects in my growth, so here go my typing fingers to take a step in that direction.

I’ve been listening to a customized Japanese pop and rock song list to practice for karaoke in Seattle at The Rockbox with friends, as well as getting my ear familiar with the song style. So far it works halfway – I actually learn the song best by writing it down. This is due to simply not knowing the kanji meanings (not all the songs will have furigana for singing along). I’ve also come to accept my range is significantly lower than what’s in my head. I can sing L’arc~en~ciel without hiccup, but Utada Hikaru will never be in my range (most of her songs have a wide range used, and I’m not as much as an alto as I used to be). This is something I’m doing for myself. Music drives much of my mood when I’m not reading or doing work. English song lyrics are so pretentious that I cannot listen for too long. Its really just another way for me to study Japanese.

Tarot classes have been sporadic, at best. The higher up the level, the more infrequent they are while the teacher focuses on the core lower level classes (most people take the basic course). I’ve been working on the weekend courses focusing on a specific Major Arcana card, but I also picked up a copy of The Spoken Cabala: Tarot Explorations of the One Self for another perspective. If you’re looking for an advanced level companion for self study, I highly recommend it -do take it one card at a time, as the author goes into great depth behind each card.

Adventures in tea have been dwindling. Currently, I am drinking genmaicha due to the common cold I got from my trip to LA (from 100 degree weather to 60 degrees in Seattle within a day? Yeah, you’d catch a cold too). While in Hollywood, I stopped by The Chado Tea Room, thinking I’d just pick up a tea to go. It does full service tea, tea time, and loose leaf tea sales. As soon as I acquire my own lodgings, I see myself obtaining several custom teas from their establishment. I enjoyed the experience, food, and tea.

I’ve done a few #inktober drawings on my Instagram, missing a few days (such as the last 3). But that’s ok. Life happens. Again, time and commitment. I need my sleep when I’m not well.

Today was spent looking at a couple of apartments within the complex my friend lives at, and while I love the facility and amenities it provides as a luxury complex, I think I’m going to hold back this time around. One of the big reasons is the studio is too small for my needs. I want to be able to work from home, but then go to bed in a space separate from where I work. While currently living at my parents’ home, as much as I want to work from here (I’d have to see if I can acquire FiOs for a steady connection as a call center telecommuter), it’d still violate that rule. Granted, another factor IS money – I just have too much outstanding debts in terms of my student loans. As soon as my credit cards are zero-balanced, all my funds will go to paying off my college debt so I can move forward with my life. I shouldn’t have to owe anything to anyone but myself, so I want that pendulum currently swinging over my head to be gone. GONE. 

I attended Geek Girl Con for the first time this weekend. I went to panels, shopped local vendors, and picked up books from the recommended reading list (#GGCLit – http://ggclibrarians.weebly.com) at B&N (because proceeds of the profits will actually go back to Geek Girl Con!), and met many happy friends both volunteering for the con and attending like myself. It was a very exciting yet low-key event, with amazing cosplayers and acceptance of all those present. For someone like me, it wasn’t overwhelming but definitely something I could see myself taking my younger cousins (boys and girls) to -unless I end up being an Agent volunteer. We shall see!

And on that note, I think I will wrap it up. The high energy music begs me to finish laundry, vacuum, and do a Tarot reading to end the night.

Thanks for your time.

0008: Lack of practice

It has been a long month since my last post. Even as I type, I am in a whirl, a rush, a world outside of my creative line of thinking and doing. I participate in activities, I work OT at my job. I am beginning to wonder if I am avoiding practice in fear of mistakes and “becoming perfect”.

I haven’t done a lot in the areas I enjoy. Tarot readings have been sporadic. My tea consumption has been everyday, because soda causes me to crash now (which is good in the end, for my health, though my pocketbook still suffers – I buy only high quality Taiwanese tea…). I have good intentions when it comes to wanting to study Japanese but I never sit down in one place long enough to study.

All the excuses in the world are just life trails we take. I blame no one but myself for what I perceive to be unhappiness, happiness, success, failures, sadness, joy. It is my life, and I am living it. I have never worked so much OT. I guess this is a very low point in my adult life that I am working to accept because so many of my ideals are not present (trains – hate driving; living space – generous parents letting live here while I tend to my debts, etc).

I’m very close to deleting FB. I don’t find it useful other than fueling the self-anger I have against myself. Its easy for someone to say “oh, everyone compares themselves to others all the time!” but it feels so debilitating that I might as well get rid of the root problem. Do you know what its like to hate yourself so much when you see your sisters work hard, share results, get praise, and all that superficial hype? I just… I just want to live my life, off the grid. I don’t want to be here for the praise, not anymore. It feels like such tedious work that I give up before I start. I want to please only myself. I am tired of thinking that me losing weight will make a difference in the lives of those around me. Maybe that’s why I lost weight and ended up being happier alone -that the people whom I constantly thought of (and currently think of today) were just not present to be a source of stress.

I need to work on detachment? Possible (more than likely) project to consider.

This feels like such a tiresome life at times. Here’s to trying and failing and trying again.

0006: Fears and Ideals

We live in a world where we think too much, hide behind screens of various sizes, and proclaim that these words are our actions for whom we are and how we identify as our true self.

Such. Bull.

I have done a very good job of hiding my true self these last 18 years of being actively connected to the net. Yes, I’ve been active on the nets since our current graduates were just babies, dabbling with finding the perfect username and cursing at the dialup in the middle of a server battle for StarCraft. I’ve finessed a level of conversation with my prose to allow intelligence and banter to intermingle when all you see are characters and hear no genuine tonality and volume control.

But I tire of my fears and unrealistic ideals.

I can’t just be the name and digital words in front of you anymore.

I bumped into an old classmate from high school (actually, we confirmed the same middle school but apparently didn’t have any classes that would trigger a remembrance of the other) -I hadn’t seen him since we graduated and he looked EXACTLY the same (except the crow laugh lines were a little deeper). I honestly thought it was a miracle he remembered me -I felt I had changed way too much in a physical sense over the last 14 years since our graduation ceremony. But upon contemplation, people will remember people because of how you made them feel, and I’d always appreciated the humor and classmate camaraderie I share with him and others in those cliques (I was a floater, you couldn’t quite pin me – newspaper, orchestra, friends at all grades whom were both DECA bound and skaters, lots of drama people as our band hall connected us with their space). And it was nice and yet unnerving to talk to him. I felt like a child still -he was there with his wife, mother, and their two kids, and I was actually just about to get some sorbet while my boyfriend did his grocery shopping. I got derailed but in a pleasant way, though I had this… fear in me while speaking to him.

So I thought about it after leaving the shopping area (and no sorbet, I just felt too childish -and I shouldn’t have! I should of gotten what I wanted and called it a productive summer night!) – why did I have this annoying, irrational fear when I spoke with him? Because he knew me only in real life. I wasn’t connected to him via social networks so having an authentic real-life-only connection scared the bejesus out of me. Now, normally this isn’t the case. My day job is nothing but talking to strangers I’ll never meet via the call center and making a difference in these people’s lives. But they actively seek someone to speak to; this situation was a “oh hello!” passerby chance that, if it was someone that I barely knew, wouldn’t have really stopped to speak. But this classmate was always someone, in high school, whom I’d speak to for more than a casual moment’s length, so my inherent nature was to act on that old relationship foundation.

Was it the right thing to do? Yes, it was necessary to acknowledge him and connect in the moment. It reminded me that those relationships matter the most. When the internet breaks down and we have to leave our caves and coffee shops in the apocalypse of the Luddite, it will be the ability to establish real relationships that are transparent and authentic that make a difference for survival and the goal to thrive with others around us.

Still, I have this fear within me that I still only view the world in ideals and not in reality. Perhaps its the real reason why I struggle with weight loss, goals, and where I am meant to be in this life. It’s getting on the late side. Monday will be a coffee day with no shame at this rate.

Adieu for now. Thanks for stopping by.

PS: Would you like to have a letter written to you? If so, I will write you a love letter or a letter of encouragement or just a postcard of “whatever!” if you so desire. Email me at lifelvlup.buddy@gmail.com and I’ll happily write you.

0003: Tickets, please.

I was at a friend’s apartment tonight. At their posh complex, they do not provide guest parking of any kind. The living spaces sit atop a local shopping venue with a limited time garage. In the past I’ve gone over here and there but never got a ticket.
Tonight was a stressful one. My allergies have been acting up so to combat this persistent condition of symptoms, I picked some Flonase. As a spray, I didn’t expect anything to go wrong, spray up nostrils, breathe in, wait. I am used to taking Benadryl and Claitin for my condition but not today! Yet I wound up staying significantly later than usual – I won’t drive if I am tired (note, will discuss that reasoning on another post). So, much to my slight surprise, I had a yellow envelope with a ticket declaration. I sat in my car, thought about how my night went, then drove home and paid my ticket. I wasn’t upset. I was in the wrong. There’s really nothing to say why I was over, so I can pay. I *did* pay. And I’m glad I did and from now one will do my damnedest to not park there. Lesson learned.

Time to go to sleep.