OK. We have a new blog URL, similar to the current but with a twist. http://bittersweetie.blogspot.com

Cool how you've got that mental sharpness/stamina to create little pieces of poetry while processing other thoughts and feelings that call for attention during the regular day. I used to have it in JH/HS and the beginning of college. I couldn't stop writing then. Wrote all day and all night, whenever I could, as if putting my thoughts and feelings on paper in a creative way was my only means to organizing and understanding them. I wrote more out of desperation than for any other reason... The level of mental sharpness/stamina I had to express myself in that manner is long gone... replaced by what exactly, if anything, I don't know. I miss it. A little.

Still reminiscing like crazy about 1991-1994. The "HS/Pro Image Years" in which each day was like an entire week. Too much happened to me during those days. I could write a thick book just about those years and the things I experienced, learned, felt. I hadn't thought about that time in awhile... until last nite. Now I feel an urge to contact my old friends, coworkers, ex-boyfriends, etc. from then just to chat about the old times... help me remember who I was then and what I went through.

Awww yeeeaah... Someone I know (Tannie) actually remembers dad's ol' franchise store, Pro Image, which was located within SouthShore Center in Alameda. Store doors were open seven days a week, every single day except Thanksgiving and Christmas, between the summer before my junior year in HS and a random date in 96 or 97. Funny how I can't remember the exact dates... how blurry everything is in my head now. Actually, that's more sad than funny.

That era, comprising the time I worked at that store, was an incredibly character-defining, over-eventful, over-emotional era of my life... My dad calls 'em "the good ol' days," when black Starter parkas sold like hotcakes, and every guy in town wore a cap or beanie, basketball jersey and such. And no one could get enough Oakland Raiders stuff. Throughout HS, my dad forced me to work at that store after school every single day, on the weekends, and all summer long, to keep me out of the trouble he imagined I'd get into if I wasn't there. (What he imagined and what I did in reality is a story in itself.) While other kids played sports, watched TV, went on dates, or did whatever HS kids did back then after school (I still have no idea), I lived my second, muchmore colorful life at that store... closed it up every nite for how many days straight... School was unbearable 'cuz it full of hypocritcal, so-called-Christian, snobby, white 90210-wannabe kids... like, oh-my-God! ...and Asian women, er Asians in general, were not yet the minority du jour. AT ALL. We were kinda persecuted, totally unpopular. I was so ignored at school... but at work, it was a whole 'nother show. I got HELLSof a lot of attention. 17 years old with super long hair lightened by Sun-In, big made-up eyes, dark lipstick, large hoop earrings... I knew every franchise team there was at the time in MLB, NHL, NBA, NCAA, NFL. I could tell what size fitted baseball cap you wore just by lookin at your head. At work, I was everything I wasn't at school... talkative, outgoing, confident, respected, excited, desired powerful. I learned how to sell anything to anyone. Dad made me the employee manager, and of course I got a big kick outta that. We employed a buncha interesting pps. Of all, I remember Milly the most fondly. We became really close friends while working together. I still love ya, sis...

Now my mind is flooded with a whole lotta memories from that era of my life. The good, bad, ugly, scandalous, etc. Lotsa stories to tell...

Maybe it's 'cuz we've been having days of glorious weather. Everyone seems a little sillier lately. Just in the last week or so. Been hearing people say sillier things, do sillier things... Giddy. People seem loosened up... maybe even a little capricious. Maybe I'm not taking people as seriously as before, or maybe I'm projecting. Have I actually been relaxing my attitude?

Today, the memorial service for our co-worker's husband who was murdered last week will be held. Today is also the year anniversary of the murder of Maria A*n*n H*s*i*a*o. I've thought of this day often.

In a year since your passing, what have I done? What would you have done with the year? I've so distanced myself from your sister and her/my friends because I couldn't at all deal with the constant reminders of your death, the profound grief that accompanied it, and the hard-hitting questions it brought to my mind... Is that the truth? Why didn't I force myself to face the discomfort then, for the sake of my friends and for the sake of becoming a stronger, better person? It seems too late now... to make up for the year that I spent trying to escape your tragedy like a coward, for not being there for your sister like a true friend, for casting off the enormous empathy I felt 'cuz I thought it hurt too much, for not being strong enough at the time to drop my own personal griefs to allow my mind some time and space to dedicate to my friends who were trying so hard to cope with your absence... I feel guilty, ashamed, and sorry.

You enjoyed life and people so much. You laughed a lot, smiled constantly. You had an ever-present and contagious aura of genuine joy. You were like an angel, even then... I worried about you because I didn't understand how you could be the way you were. I thought you naive and prey for danger. You were sailing through life, oblivious to the bad weather or sharks or ominous waves around you. You were glad for each new day, and you lived as if each moment could be your last. Let me believe this of you... that you knew little or no sorrow or pain even until your last moments. You inspire me to do the same... to continuiously savor and treasure life and people, to see good in everything deserving... Maria, lovely angel, may I never forget you... rest in peace...

I can't think 'deep' right now. *shake head* Still nothing but shallow thoughts. 'sok, I don't really care to be thinking right now anyhow. We went to F&A in Palo Alto last nite, and I got in my weekly sloshing. I think that no matter how well my life goes or how fulfilled I feel, I'd still want to drink. I don't think I could ever pass up or replace the pleasure of the alcohol buzz. What factors would limit my desire to drink? All I can think of are cost and the availability of fun people to drink with. I'd drink as often and as much as I feel is worth the money I'd have to spend to do so, as long as there are intriguing/interesting people with whom I feel comfortable to drink with. Right now, I think I'd run out of people to drink with before I'd deplete my slosh fund... but that's ok too. Save for travel.

Now's a time I wouldn't mind uncapping a bottle of that natural high I was feeling earlier.

I'll go ahead and admit, I'm currently directionless too... 'cept I'm pretty good at avoiding thinking about it. Or am I? Damnit, you all just reminded me to think about it. Fuck, I probably have bins and grenades too... full/comprised of supressed and repressed shit.

Heheh. I guess I'm a strange one for fetishes and fixations. Believe it or not (and you can confirm w/ Dave and my exs), I once had a thing for armpit odor. Armpit odor isn't quite as bad as total body BO... I'm glad I outgrew that thing...

Life is so very precious and special, and everything in the world is simply amazing and exudes extraordinarily spectacular beauty.

Not hyperbole. That's what hits me whenever I take my lunch breaks and spend time alone, driving around, walking around... listening to and observing life outside of work. I feel so high just to be alive in this place, and to be receiving such wonderful sensory input. I am replete with feelings. I feel the need to join the world in creating and/or eliciting that kind of beauty and those feelings which it bestows up on me... to give it back in appreciation and celebration. I wish I could capture this feeling into a bottle, and regularly drink it up. Too soon will it fade away...

On the other hand, it matters to me greatly that I get to know you. So don't you worry about no one lookin your way now...

To the guy at the gym with a tattoo of a feline animal (looks like a black panther) on the right shoulder blade... you look fuckin awesome. I'm sure you know it. Your upper bod ROCKS. You're a great height, great color, and you match your shoes with your clothes. You're somethin special... You could put in a little more work on your calves tho, bro... but I don't really ever have to look down there. I've noticed you for more than half a year. You're the type of guy I'd never have an ordinary opportunity to talk to, much less become friends with. There'd be no scenario in which I'd be introducing myself to you or carrying on a normal get-to-know-you conversation with you. I'd never walk up to you to start a random chat because I'm shy and because your beauty intimidates me. And if by some stroke of luck we find ourselves talking, I think there'd be an obvious disinterest on your part in me and my affairs. Why would you ever want to know me? What could I ever do for you? You're clearly out of my league. We couldn't just be friends 'cuz I'd always be longing to bone you 'cuz you're so fine... or I'd stick out like a sore thumb among you and your fantastically attractive friends. You're probably ultra cocky. And frankly, it really matters not to me that I'll never get to know you. I'm perfectly happy just sneaking peaks at you at the gym. I think it'd be super cool if, someday, I look impressive enough to make you likewise think of me for a moment or two...

Ugh. Jennie's psyche... where you'd find yourself left alone, hearing nothing but your own thoughts for weeks on end... Here at work, in this room, locked away (literally), all day, I see and feel no one but myself... hear nothing but my own droning thoughts about myself... I don't like being in here. It's not constructive for me. *I* need/want MORE external stimulus... I need input from outside my mind. We need to exchange places for awhile.

So I come into work and find out about this... The man murdered is our administrative assistant's husband.

I'm taking suggestions for a new URL for my blog. "bitterkitty" doesn't seem to fit... Send me your suggestions. For now, I've set up [...] I will transfer to that site at the end of the week, or as soon as I've settled upon the new URL. Links to this blog will still work after I transfer.

That's more like it. Last nite, I made up for Fri nite's lack of an alcohol-induced good time. Got drunk and giddy and uncontrollably giggly. I really needed to do that...

Today, I got to do something I've wanted to do again for a long time. Sat in with friends that got together to play a little music together. It was a lot of fun watching and singing along when I could. I thought of the last time I was in the same position...watching people interact that way, connecting and sharing, but not being able to join in completely. I've always wanted a part... and I'll try to create one for myself this time. It NEVER suffices to just sit there and empathize... envious...

The weekend is over, and I have the same things to resolve that I had when the week and weekend began... but I can't seem to escape them anymore.

Drinking games, the way we played 'em last nite, really don't work for me. Maybe the problem was that the drinks were too weak and too infrequent... and/or we played the games way too slowly. I was conflicted... Think or drink? Focus on winning, and I don't get to drink. Fuck it... I'll drink whether I win or lose. Try to focus on winnng after drinking a little, and I beat down the buzz. Damnit... why am I sitting here playing these silly games if all I really wanna do is drink my mind away? I guess some ppl find trying-to-focus-while-under-the-influence to be the fun part. I dunno. Me... I aim to surrender my mind and bask in the growing buzz. Maybe the buzz and the control aren't mutually exclusive...? We gotta do shots next time... and turn down the lights so my beet-red shiny face doesn't attract so much attention. Hate that...

*Sigh* I wish I could have that much fun sober too...

I think I'm about to be fucked over at work. Our new director clearly does not care to treat contractors better than dirt. It doesn't help that the one other contractor in our group is a complete and utter moron, and everyone knows it. His contract is about to end, is under review, and may not be renewed. My contract here is up at the end of the month... Lately, a lot of crap that the idiot contractors before me created has been dug up. Our new director doesn't know that everything's been cleaned up by me since I got here... and that I didn't let anything slip through the cracks. All she sees is contractors that withiin this group have screwed up. My manager and my non-conctractor counterpart are so worried about covering their own asses, it wouldn't surprise me if they used me as a scapegoat to keep their jobs. Seems as if they're gonna ax the two of us contractors, and then outsource the portal to a contracting agency.

I've actually done significant work here (even though this last month my productivity slipped a little). I'd venture to say all-in-all I work more efficiently than my counterpart. Being a contractor sux. Being in this position sux. I feel sick to my stomach when things like this are out of my control. I have to play this game... talk to a buncha ppl... I have a month to scheme a place for myself here... or to find another job.

Yeah, I know this isn't interesting read... but let me seethe...

I found out last nite that those crazy dreams aren't done with me yet. I had another one that was longer and more detailed than the ones I had in New York. This time, there were more beings trying to touch me, choke me, and stab me while seizing my mind. The freaky part is that some had faces from my reality. Terror... but after I woke up, I wasn't afraid to go back to sleep like I was the last two times. These aren't demons. They're probably just unresolved figments of my subconscious that get tangled up while I'm in a state of half-awake and half-sleep. I recall that I only have these dreams at the beginning of the nite. Maybe I need to go to bed earlier, or get a bigger bed or a new pillow, or wear less clothing...

Closing remarks re: my New York trip... I could live there for about a year or two, but I'd come back to Cali to raise a family and take care of my parents. I'll do what I need to now so that I'd have the option to do so in about a year and a half or two years... no earlier, no later. (I'm building a new window of time.) I need time to get out of debt and develop job skills, and I'd like time to establish strong bonds with people here before I leave. I know I'll need those bonds in the future... so no matter where I am, I won't feel the unsettling neither-here-nor-there feeling. I'd need to know there is love for me somewhere... to visit or to come back to...

I've had 11 years of piano, but I don't-the-fuck have "piano hands!" My hands are as masculine and muscular as they come. So... I try to fem them up by growing the nails and painting 'em pretty shades of peach and pink with gloss and glitter occasionally... the same way I grow my hair long and color it and highlight it... in hopes that I won't even once be mistaken for a transvestite.

Last nite, while some of us were cooling down from rollerhockey, Karl threw out, "We should have a good fight one of these days. I haven't had a good fight since... junior high?" ... or something like that. He has an interesting idea. I'd thought about it before... I understand my own need/want to fight people. I had a bad case of it during the time I was taking kickboxing classes, and I think a lot of other people have it re-occuringly as well, for various reasons... which may be why movies like Fight Club really hit a cord with the masses.

I'd like to try this out, though I feel a a little silly admitting it. Whether it's individual fighting, or group fighting... I'd try it for the huge rush, and whatever else I'd get out of it (such as the sense of power, the outlet of aggressions, etc). I'm pretty sure I'd get hurt pretty badly, though I probably wouldn't break anything. At this point, I feel so unbreakable. My body is a canvas of scars and bruises... but nothing ever breaks. Sometimes, I'm bothered by how unsightly places like my elbows and ankels are... but I think I've passed the point of no return. I'll never be able to get rid of most of the scars I've collected, without the help of laser surgery; I can never have ultra-feminine, soft, smooth, alabaster skin... so I might as well go the other way, collect these mementos of assault, or not care about how bad they look on a girl.

I think I'd have better results grappling/wrestling than fighting... but that kinda tussling would probably turn me on more than give me an adrenaline rush.

Wanna fight me? Lemme know when/where/how.

Thursday - Hey, Big Apple!

When I first got off the airplane in New York, I was acutely aware of my Cali-ness. I felt as if I had "Here I am Ms. California-Walking-on-Sunshine" written loudly all over a little sign draped around my neck. I immediately sensed a gravity about the place I'd just landed in... It was dark 'cuz it was nighttime, but there also seemed to be a mood darkness that carried with it an amount of weight, will, seriousness, acceptance of the struggle of life, etc. I tend to exoticize places that I'm unfamiliar with, but that's part of the fun I derive from travelling... figuring out what's different and how it makes me feel.

It was after midnight EST when we arrived, so no one was awake to greet us. Seeing and being in the house in Elmhurst where Dave grew up weirded me out initially. Oddly, I felt as if I'd stepped into a scene from my own imagination. I'd come up with what I thought the house would be like from the impressions I've obtained of NY through pictures, movies, and the last time I came here. The house is one big time-capsule. Dave says that not much ever changes here, and I can see that.

A lot has been put into context. For whatever reason, this doesn't seem like the type of environment that would produce a guy like Dave.

Friday - Here a brick, there a brick... everywhere a brick, brick...

Daylight revealed the old look and feel of this area of New York (Queens and Manhattan). In the morning, we took an illegal Chinese van taxi into Chinatown, and then headed uptown to check out The Metropolitan Museum of Art. The Met is awesome, but too big to digest in one day. Museums containing art and artifacts from the past, though fascinating, tend to steer my thoughts toward religion, death, and related (and dreaded) topics. Ugh.

As we walked around the city, I imagined what living here would do for me. I've come back to the questions that were spawned more than two years ago... For how long could I enjoy living in a place like this? What possible scenarios could place me here to live for a time? What is the earliest I could get out here if I wanted to? Would I be able to make enough money working here to get the most out of living here? Should I try to live here with Dave, alone, or with someone else I know? What would be the price of leaving Cali, even if for a short period?

At night, we met up with Dave's friend Lily. We walked around Nolita, Soho, East Village, St. Mark's, and other areas still full of life past midnight. I'd already seen these scenes in 99... so I wasn't blown away like I was first time. First stop for us was Pravda, a lounge with a Russian theme. It was easy to taste the high-quality of the drinks, and I warmed up quickly. The place was full of seemingly older, pan-european white people. I couldn't imagine myself alone or with friends schmoozing at this place. At the next stop, Bar 89, my thoughts turned toward my Bay Area friends... 'cuz the crowd there was somewhat reminiscent of the home crowd. We would have amazingly good times in a place like this... have grand conversations about both the trivial and the not-so-trivial, inspired by well-mixed drinks and trendy settings. Somehow, I imagine we'd have better times out here than we do back home. I wished you were there with me...

Coming home on the subway around 2am, I woke up from a bad dream that I couldn't remember at all. Dave on my left, woman on my right a couple seats down, asleep with her head tilted to the left and resting on her on tits... First time I've seen someone able to do that... I really wanted to remember what I had dreamed, because it felt like a premonition. But all I was left with was a sick/icky feeling... a stuck feeling. The feeling that I am living a lie... that I what I want for my life is not currently possible because I am stuck on something... something that I can't let go of because if I do I will drown...

Saturday - Family Day

Spent most of the day in Queens. Met an assorted bunch of Dave's relatives. Dave's grandma, who lives just a couple doors down from his parents, is such a fun woman. She's 72, but she looks a decade younger... has incredible skin for her age. When she speaks Cantonese, I can understand some of what she says. I'm quite proud of that. Did I make an effort to be charming? With grandma, yes. With everyone else... just a little.

Grandma has a book titled something like "All About Birthdays." Each day of the year has its own page detailing the personality of a person born on that day. I looked up several birthdays that I knew offhand. Holy canoli, the book is amazing! I think I might pick one up for myself when I get back to the Bay Area.

Despite what I'd said before about avoiding the old Everyone.net coworkers, I called Lib to tell her we were going to be at the Gemini Lounge at night with Dave's friend Brian and Brian's friends. I kinda wanted to see if she's still hot and bi, has kept the weight off... and if living in NYC for the last couple of months has been kind to her. I really didn't expect her to meet up with us, and it was probably for the best that she didn't.

There were a lot of pretty women (and men, but I didn't notice them as much) at the lounge. The alcohol was, again, remarkably high-quality compared to what I'm used to lushing on in the Bay Area. So smooth was the lead-in to the buzz. The buzz was also sweeter than usual, and seemed to last five times as long... Too good. pLushious in New York City... the nightlife and the alcohol would be the sure end of me.

Sunday - My feet are ready for a vacation without me...

Right now I'd give anything for a twenty-minute foot massage. When my feet ache from too too much walking, they turn into superduper erogenous zones. Oh pleeeeease... stroke the middle of my soles!

Our lazy asses woke up past noon today. Dave's relatives took us to White Castle for lunch. If they brought the horrible fastfood restaurant into the Bay Area, I'd advise you to stay the hell away from it. Nasty nasty food. Most of the food I've had here in New York has been most excellent. Everything, from the Pizza to the Chinese and Korean food, is a lot greasier, though.

Hm... was it serendipity that I watched the movie Serendipity today? It damn sure felt that way. See it, especially if you're interested in the affairs of my mind lately. Watching the movie almost felt like a sign... kinda like one of the signs in the movie itself.

We went down to Times Square for our destination of the night: The Lion King, the Broadway musical. Fantastic show. I'm too tired to write a review...

Monday - 10:30am

I just got up 30 mins ago. I thought I was going crazy last night around 3am when Dave came to bed. No really. Felt fuckin nuts! I thought I was demon-possessed. The confusion started when I finished up writing about my experiences until now, and saw Dave playing video games in the living room here. The same general dark and weirded-out feeling from Thursday night washed all over me...

I feel as if I've just seen a prequel to the latter episodes of Dave's life... just like seeing Star Wars: Attack of the Clones last week. I've caught a privileged glimpse into Dave's Episode Two, which has allowed me to fill in gaps of info about him that I could not fill from speaking with him or simply observing the person he is currently. I am not sure how this insight will affect the way I interact with him in the future; perhaps when I get back to the Bay Area, what I've seen and felt here will recede into the back of my mind. No matter how I'm affected by this insight, I welcome being elucidated this way. Now I greatly desire the chance to see your Episode Two's... especially if you come from a place I've never been to. Take me there someday...

Anyhow...the above-mentioned feelings evolved into a realization that I feel incredibly empty without my own past close by. I've never lived anywhere else, and my past has always surrounded me. It may limit me, but it also comforts me. Last night, I'd already begun to feel a profound longing for my parents and the people I know back home. At the same time, I'd already started missing the life that I'm not living out here. I don't want to leave this place, but I can't wait to go home.

As I laid in bed, trying to sleep, the dark, weirded-out, empty, neither-here-nor-there feelings then gave way to extreme paranoia. I've had more than one disturbing dream while out here... but the worst one was a result, I believe, of something I saw on at 3am, Saturday morning. On the subway, we missed our exit, and found ourselves in Forest Hills. Rode the long way back into Elmhurst along with a crazy lady. She was talking to another passenger on the bus who showed concern for her well-being. I couldn't figure out what was making her crazy. Could've been drugs, but I wouldn't know what kind. In one of her nonsensical sentences, she dropped the word "exorcism." And that freaked me out like you wouldn't know... That night, I had a dream that I was struggling to rip my mind away from the control of demons. I writhed in bed and called out to Dave to save me, but he couldn't hear me or feel me moving 'cuz I was struggling in the dream, not in reality. I managed to rip away by waking up... panting, heart pounding, cold sweating, but the claws were no longer gripping and twisting my mind. Damn, though...what if I hadn't been able to wake up??

I had the same horrific dream last night. But this time, I was hearing voices. I can't remember what was said... but it was definitely evil. And I couldn't breathe! It seemed like an eternity before I was finally able to fight my way to consciousness, and I was overcome by incredible fear... fear of slipping back into subconsciousness and into inescapable control of the devil... or death. In my desperation, I resorted to prayer. I prayed to the God of my mother to take away the demons that had jumped into my head from the woman on the subway. The next thing I know, I was waking up in the morning. Completely reset. I can't believe what I went through last nite.

Boarding a plane to New York in a couple hours. Freaking out a bit... the usual paranoia. It'd be too ironic if I die now... now when I've determined to do a lot more living and believing. Made some resolutions last nite/this morning that I think are gonna really take me places. Anyhow, I hope at my time of death, the ppl in my life know how much they really meant to me... not just how they fed and housed me, fueled my fantasies, or whatever else... I love easily, and a lot. More than any of you could ever know. I teeeeem with passion.

I'd give you my excess if I could.

I've been at this point before. I know. I feel the deja vu hitting hard... taking me back about two and a half years ago... How the hell did I get here again? Once again, the bittersweet... heavy on the bitter. What happened to me... when exactly did I stop believing... ?

And now, why do I want to believe again?

Because you're sick of longing... You're sick of denial... and settling... and... and... You're just plain sick now... because your unfulfilled desires and unrequited emotions are killing you. They won't go away... and you gotta stop relying on repression for respite. Do something. Do something soon!

"Kneel right there.... Are you comfortable? Now hold it right about... there. Yes, yes. A bit straighter. Gotta see it all. No, don't look at me. Turn your head to the right a bit. Look right about... there. Nope, too much. Go back a little... YES, that's it. Back straight. Shoulders back. Yeah, that's good, real good! HOLD.... Got it! K... now I want u to..."

Yep, took dem pix.

I wish I could have more LIVES. Remember those choose-your-own-adventure books you read when you were a kid? ...and how you'd stick your fingers in the pages of all the other options so that you could go back and experience them after one leads you to an end? I wish I could do that with my life... sorta.

Well, if not lives, I wish I could have more CHARISMA.

If not charisma, then show me more MONEY!!

Winding down the day/nite... Watching TRL. Vanessa Carlton's video is on. They say she started playing "It's a Small World" by ear on the piano at the age of two. That's so special? At three, I surprised my parents by playing "Amazing Grace" by ear on the keyboard just using the black keys. So why must *I* slave away at a boring, frustrating, career-limiting job every single day, while Ms. Carlton makes CDs, music videos, and a career out of my ultimate outlet? I chose this path I'm on... yeah, I did. Maybe I've chosen to go down the wrong one... How many times have I done THAT in my life?

Today, I thought about New York City, and how I had wanted to badly to move there in 2000... Didn't, and probably never will because the window of optimal opportunity has come and gone. There are always windows and doors open in my life, I suppose. Different ones. sometimes many, sometimes just one or two. Some of them are clearly open... nice fine breeze blowing in and caressing my face, enticing me to come outside.. Some of them are open just a crack... but are still open; I just have to put in a little work to fit myself through (after I've peaked through to make sure what's on the otherside is agreeable). Some of them appear to be open, but there are actually screendoors in the way preventing me from freely going through to the other side, though I can stlill smell and breathe in the fresh air... This is an awfully retarded metaphor. I don't know what the hell I'm trying to say right now... or I do, but I'm not able to using this metaphor. I suck.

Received this email this morning...

Date: Tue, 21 May 2002 08:35:42 -0700
Subject: Jennie, buddy, pal

Jennie,

You awake? How was the weekend? I have a small favor. I was exchanging some emails with women here and there. And of course pictures came up. If I send them pictures, they will send me some. Of course these involve one's birthday suit. But tasteful...artsy. Being the photographer you are, maybe I could pay you to take these pics. What do you think?

The top is up,

JD

I know JD, and this is not a joke. First thing that goes through my mind is... is he actually asking for more than it seems he's asking for? Next, I wonder why he thinks I'm qualified for this job... Maybe 'cuz I so need the money and he knows it? Or maybe he's got the notion that I'm crazy enough to agree to do something like this? Does he really think I'd do a decent job snappin his naked pix? Oh FUCK. I just remembered something...

Send me the survey... so I can take it too. Is it a coincidence that we've been self-evaluating more than usual lately? I believe I know who/what I am... but I'm not so certain anymore that I know what's truly best for me. I don't fit any stereotypes I know of... and haven't been in the business of looking for another ME for a long time. I know I'm a girl whose world is currently too small, who chooses fantasy over reality and constantly seeks people to inspire. Is there more about me that I don't know that I should know? Send me the survey.

Have an overabundance of feelings this morning... of the bittersweet variety. I usually can't get enough feelings. Just today they seem a little too much... choking me a bit. Want to let them out badly. Can't wait to get off work to sweat them out at the gym or while playing bball, whichever way I choose to burn my calories tonite...

Before I went up to UC Berkeley yesterday, I thought being on campus would bring up feelings of nostalgia. When I was there, I didn't feel much at all. The place was empty and dead. School was out. I suppose I waited too long to go back and reminisce or get closure or whatever I thought I would get when I went back.

Saw some new things this weekend... Was transfixed by the transvestites at Asia SF on Fri nite. Hot they were. I wanted to touch one to see if they are as soft and smooth as natural women, but was too intimidated to do so. At a club, same nite, saw some glowstick performances that were easy on the eyes despite the fact that I wasn't on e. "The Robot" made a first appearance on Sat nite. I'm closing up the weekend thinking about what my best interests are...

Dave's bday celebration was Sat nite, and lasted early into this morning. I feel as if I did something bad. Someone went home crazy high. Someone went home crushed. Someone went home disappointed in friends. Someone went home confused. Seems like each someone went home or stayed at home w/ a burden, whether small or large. I came home feeling as if I did something bad. Maybe I feel bad about something that I'm not in any real way responsible for... or maybe I'm just feelin bad in general 'cuz I've got blisters on the soles of my feet from playing tourguide today in Berkeley. It hurts to walk.

It was difficult driving home a half an hour ago (had had a couple hits)... was a bit paranoid about cops catching me for not driving straight. I'm pretty sure I was driving straight, but I was paranoid that I wasn't. I was tense the whole drive up, and reminded myself every other second that my life and Dave's life are literally in my hands at the moment. And now I'm here, hoping to ride it out and write it out. I can't control the weather, just like I can't control the emotional climate w/in a group. What, if anything, has changed because tonite happened? Do not understand or do not like or do not accept? What's so freakn wrong w/ the things I do? I get silly drunk sometimes... so what? What do they all want from me? Nothing much, is what I'd suspected. As if they actually really really care... I want to sleep now. Too tired for thought.

Sometimes I think that my philosophies are actually excuses that I've made for what I do with my life, which I've come to believe.

At least they are my own philosophies... no one else fed them to me but me.

I've been wanting new clothes for quite awhile. I used to shop often and buy new outfits on a bi-monthly basis before the year 2001. What you wear does have the potential to make or break your social life. But it doesn't usually have that drastic of an effect. Yes, if you're a girl, it can really make a difference in how much you get noticed. We've all seen this happen... Girl strutting around up ahead wearing hot, trendy garb. She's guaranteed a look by most guys passing by. Can't help but try to catch a glimpse of her face to see if it lives up to the hype. Whoops. Nice clothes on a nice body... But'erface. Different girl... Pretty, but in frumpy clothing, doesn't get noticed from behind as much. Oh, unless her hair is especially nice... long... Another guaranteed look. I dunno... maybe the hair part is just me.

Why do I want new clothes? To even the playing field, I guess. I hate feeling as if I'm at any sort of disadvantage, even if it's small... and even if I might not really need the extra edge at this time. I'm just fuckin competitive like this...

So I did some thinking last nite, as I'd been prompted to during the day, about my happiness with what I have... The not-so-startling conclusion is... TADA! Yes, I AM happy. Relatively. (And relatively counts as enough for now.) Great, I can finally go ahead and email Brian to let him know. Best to let him know the truth...

At the end of the day, I control ALL of my on-off switches. That makes me happy. That's what I believe. You may try to prove me wrong (tempt me, test me, try to depress me)... I welcome a challenge. In the meantime, I see that the Balance remains in place... YEEESSS!

White chix are way overrated. Most of 'em are just a buncha big boobies.

That applies only to Asian WOMEN, silly...

Another day of watching the clock tick... just about over. Not pulling my weight here... not able to concentrate on the tasks at hand.

My co-worker, my functional counterpart, recieved the "Employee of the Month" award today. I'm not bothered by that... no I am not. I mean, I can't expect to ever receive that award since I'm not even an employee here yet. I'm still a disposable... Secondly, no one sees the work I do (or don't do, for that matter). So even if I busted my ass for this group up until last month, nothing. My performance during the whole month of May has brought me down pretty far... I'm ashamed. I think I deserved an award at some point. Motivation to get back to worthy of recognition here is at an all time low...

15:42:31 Slaaaayer: Here's my two cents......"A penny saved....is ...well...... pretty much worthless..."
15:42:45 Slaaaayer: unless of course, you are makin a wish or something....
15:43:52 Slaaaayer: they are good for flinging at people too...
15:45:42 Slaaaayer: if you put taco bell hot sauce on a dirty one for a min. or two....when you wipe it off it will be shiny... just like new...
15:45:58 Slaaaayer: I think coke works too
15:47:21 Slaaaayer: tails never fails....

15:05:25 P*B*: i dunno.. pennies to me are something people don't care about, cheap, usless
15:05:31 P*B*: annoying
15:05:37 P*B*: things you wanna get rid of
15:07:44 [me]: yeah, i thot about that too...
15:07:51 [me]: they are the same for me, in reality.
15:08:27 P*B*: so, that's why i think everyone's gone crazy talking about pennies as if they were something meaningful

Hm... To make things fun, you can try swapping pennies. My dull penny for your shiny penny. Maybe what's dull to me is shiny to you, and vice versa... Swing dem pennies! I guess this can only be done if you have one in the first place...

So maybe you can just borrow a penny for a time... not steal it away entirely. Secretly take it, have it and hold it for a coupla days, and put it back when you're done with it. The person you took it from need not ever know. You'd feel a penny richer while you had it. Maybe it was a dull penny to begin with, but once you're done buffing it up, it's a bright shiny lovely penny. You put it back all brand new lookin, and whoever you borrowed it from would owe you for that... Borrowing can tide you over until you find that hard-to-find collector's item wonderful new ideal penny that you can call your own for a time.

I got up two hrs too early on Sat... Went back to sleep. Got back up at 11:30am, and everything was hunky-dory... Drinking last nite, I found my happy place after 3 shots and 2 drinks on an empty stomach. But the lightheaded, fluttery feelings didn't last long enough... and I hurt for a bit last nite and this morning. And then I spent some time driving up to Oakland for my cousin's graduation lunch thinking about my need to stop dwelling on obtaining unnaturally generated temporary highs and some other shit that I've allowed to cloud my mind lately... I must take a trip soon. Spend some time away from here, develop new thoughts, come back.. Fixed.

When I got back from lunch, I was surprised by a bunch of my friends. They'd all gathered together at a park to celebrate my bday. Yeah, I was touched... and of course I felt awkward. I shoulda said something to them all, given a "thank you" speech at least. Public Speaking 101, another class I need to check out. I did my best to make a connection with all of the people there. Be friendly. Don't let them see your awkwardness. The daily quota of connections was exceeded by much.... felt really good. Later, we went someplace to sing karaoke. Someone there sure smelled good, and the olfactory pleasure helped me get over the hard time my other senses were having. I was extremely dizzy... and the mind was on other thoughts which were pretty out of place for where I was at and what I was doing. I hadn't eaten much all day though there was a plentitude of food. Hanging out with a bunch of superthin girls kinda provided the motivation to stay away from most of it. They're such sweet girls too... I'm such a sucker for their type. But they make me feel butch... and I truly HATE when that happens...

Dave's bday present for me is a trip to New York with him at the end of the month, during Memorial Day weekend. Soon enough.

Whether or not I like it, I don't think I'll ever have a chance to be single again.

Hey Jennie girl... Why the long face so early in the mornin? You should be happy... It's the beginning of a glorious May day... can actually hear birds chirping as if on cue. Not surreal. So real... like a movie set or something like that. You are on the set of a wonderful day. Don't you feel it? Today, people, including you, are gonna do fun things in the warmth of the sun and of each others' company. So why the overcast expression? Get a freakn smile on yer face already!! Remember what you said a couple days prior on your bday... that from that day forth you would be more positive and adopt the outlook that your life is getting only better and better everyday..

What... your head doesn't feel so good? What happened last nite anyhow? You stink, by the way... Yer silly ass puked. And you looked real hot and cheap all trashed and dizzy. Why'd you do that? You wanted it, you said. But did you really? What is it that you really wanted? Ohhhh... is that why you aren't happy? Didn't get exactly what you wanted. Like a spoiled little girl you are... Look at yourself, still flushed from the alcohol... Hey, your skin looks good. At least that... Well, you actually have a lot going for you... People like to remind you of that every so often. But you never take it to heart. Always wanting just a little bit more... just what's a bit beyond your reach, beyond the advisable. That's not healthy, you know... Pursuing the wind. The Balance, girl. Do you remember talking about that all last year? ...how you're maintaining the balance of your life as optimally as possible, and how there are things you shouldn't do to upset it?

You're also taking a lot of things for granted. STOP, LOOK, and LISTEN. They tell you that when you're in kindergarten... Do all three before you cross the road. Stay on the path, babygirl... and maintain that freakn balance.

Yeah, yeah... I should do all that. Smile, don't be embarrassed, appreciate, get some more sleep, and bother to think things through... You're right. Not getting exactly what I want even when what I want may not be good for me still fucks me up. Hell if I know if I'm doing wrong or right to want what I want in the first place. I pretend I know. Idiot me, letting things so easily get out of hand mentally... Need to put my mind on a leash, and not let it drag me into stinky, dirty places. Indeed it is a beautiful day... but I can't help thinking it could be even better if I was on drugs.

I need to get to the bottom of this current dissatisfaction. Don't just blame it on Empty. It's gotta do w/ connections, and/or something related that I have to fix so that I don't feel so third person. I need to take some time to figure it out. Actually, I'll just go back to sleep... Maybe when I rewake, I'll be reset and ready to party again...

Verbal Communication 1A. It's gotta be a class somewhere... I gotta go take it. I got problems. It's so hard not to get distracted by the visuals when speaking to people face to face. Half formed thoughts seep out. Sometimes subconscious bits too... Think before I speak, eh? I'd be speakin one word a minute. Brain's so fried... or something.

I receved a bday card from Brian today. I haven't yet answered his email from 2 weeks ago... He writes in the card, "I got your bday card...I thought maybe you finally forgot about me... but you didn't... My favorite quote is 'the greatest risk is not taking one.' That means that the risk of living the rest of my life without you is much greater than the risk of feeling bad if you say no. Mija..." The card has one of those Kim Anderson pictures on the front... black and white little boy holding a bouquet of red roses. It's cute. It's so Brian. Maybe I shouldn't have sent him a bday card in the first place. Maybe I shoulda resisted the urge to find out how he's doing, instead of opening up a chance to hurt him again. Didn't think that one out... Arrgh. Mental note to self... shouldn't keep anyone in the background as a contingency plan. Close the door on this one now...but don't throw away his address...

HUGS not DRUGS!! I got a crazy/wonderful hug from a friend today. Mmmmmmmm... could FEEL the happy chemicals being released in my brain. I could get sorely addicted to these hugs... and it wouldn't be a bad thing. They're virtually cheap, cause real happiness, do not lead to brain damage, bring people closer together, and you can't really OD on 'em... wow. Do not underestimate the power of a HUG.

Question.
Answer: I would wipe out from memory all of the thoughts which disturb me. I could turn all my embarrassing anecdotes into stand-up comedy... or learn from them and use them to develop myself. I couldn't do as much with disturbing thoughts. They would just burn holes in my brain... like drugs would.

Anyone got any extra butterflies? Share 'em with me.

I've been constantly wondering, when's my next high? Should I be more proactive about making it happen soon? Like, should I schedule a pot party for next weekend? Do I HAVE to wait for the weekend?

Hey, I have an idea... This year, in celebration of my twenty-nth year alive, gimme some private time with you. Bring the drug or drink du jour... throw in some visual and audio effects if you can. No card or wrapping-paper necessary. You, me, my high, and enough time for you to connect w/ me. Whatever way possible. Talk to me or kiss me. Bestow on me the gift of the illusion of closeness to you for just a couple of minutes of your life... That'd be sweeeet.

Or just get me a new CD. :P I can always add more CDs to my nearly non-existent collection.

Repression revisited. Repression occurs automatically... like during times when your sanity, in self-preservation mode, acts on your behalf. I guess when repressed things have surfaced and become conscious things, you can either wait for frustration to lead to re-repression of those things... or you can supress them before the frustration kicks in. So a supressed thing and a repressed thing have the same status in your mind. Goodbye, but not for forever.

I think I'll just let my recently resurfaced, previously repressed desires fade back into the confusion... I don't feel like doing any forcing at this time. Lazy... and it's kinda fun having sinful thoughts to entertain me at work.

I gotta get me one o these waterbras. I've wanted one for ahwhile... My bday's coming up. This year, I'll give myself the gift of cleavage.

I think you have to suppress something before you forget it, if it's something that isn't going to go away on its own or within the time frame you prefer. Suppression is a good way to handle totally unresolvable issues that are choking an otherwise happy situation. If you successfully forget something through the means of suppression, you've succeeded, right?

I just came back from playing badminton. Was a good time. I'd contacted Chowie ahead of time to tell him I was gonna make it out tonite, and when I got there I met his mom and brother Jimmy. We were the only ones there. I've gotten really bad at playing, having not done so in more than a year... but we managed to pair up fairly enough. Chowie's team kept on winning. The kid sure is strong. I was surprised with Chowie's mom. How old could she be? Mother of two strapping boys in their 20s... I guess she could be around 45; she looked good. After playing for a couple hours, we quit. Jimmy sits down and says, "Chowie always beats me at everything." "You must be the younger brother," I say. Whooops. He's older by two years. Mom comes over and says, "Oh, Chowie is the more athletic one, but Jimmy is very artistic and musical." "Lucky of you to have one of both," I say. Hm... very interesting. I can imagine the rivalry between these two growing up. Which one would I rather be? Which would I choose if I had the choice of one or the other to go out with? Would I choose the athletic one for his strength, humor, and good looks, or would I choose the artist/musician for his will, depth of feeling, understanding of beauty and sorrow, etc? Who would be better in a relationship? Who would I bond better with? Who would make a better lover?

How come it always seems as if the younger sibling gets the better genes? They always seem taller, thinner, cuter, funnier, more popular... but not always smarter. :P

I really hope the powers that be don't decide to drop TNGC. What would I do w/o rollerhockey? The worst scenario is I grow out of touch w/ the friends I've made because we end up not making any time to hang out w/ each other w/o rollerhockey. Best case scenario, we replace TNGC w/ our own little TNDC. The bunch of us go out and get drunk every Thurs. No... that would get tired quickly. Well, it's out of my control what happens to TNGC. No use stressing it. I'll just hold off on buying my rollerhockey stick...

To find out of you are repressed, do drugs like e. Tell me what you did while on it and how you felt, and I'll tell you whether you're repressed or not. My diagnosis might not be right at all... but we'd both have fun figuring you out.

I'm in the habit of fixating.

My life is relatively simple. Simple, or dull? Well, uncomplicated and uneventful, but not unpleaseantly so. Calm. I'm no longer going crazy thinking of all the things I wanna do badly but can't because of money issues. Will I ever make a conscious effort to make my life more robust? Aren't I happy now?

Brian just asked me that.

From: "Brian ."
Subject: got your card
Date: Sun, 21 Apr 2002 22:46:27 -0700

That was nice of you. I know you must have carefully picked it out.
How are you? Are you happy? Please tell me the truth.

I'm ok. I'm going back to school soon.. down here. I'm going to be an
elementary school teacher.

Brian

I haven't replied yet 'cuz I'm not sure how to answer. If I say I am happy, would that make him feel good or bad? I should answer soon. It's been more than a week.

Stupid Blogger. Stupid Sun machine. I have been trying all day to get in here... and now I gotta go home.

I really need a hug right now... or a nice long kiss. Or even a quick fuck. Gimme physical... Don't want yer luv. Don't want yer monay. Just want ya sweet and sour hunnay...

Too many thoughts abound... Age old question. Where do I go from here? I feel so empty again... What's the big problem? Why can't I communicate anymore??

It seems so hard to strike up normal conversations these days... I don't know what to say to get closer to people, and I can't think of something clever to say in the meantime. Not being able to connect the way I want to is disheartening. I want to get to know him, her, and you... not everyone, a select few. Why is it so hard? Maybe I know too much already, and have assumed the rest... Or maybe I want to keep thinking you are the person I think you are, and I shy away from finding out I'm wrong about you. Maybe I just don't know how to give gifts... Or maybe I just need to read a modern-day version of the book How to Win Friends and Influence People.

I have not been reading; I am not learning much these days. The last two books I read all the way through, I read during my trip to China last summer. It's almost been a year since that trip... gosh, so hard to believe that it's been almost a year... One of the books I read during the my flight there was Go Ask Alice. That book has been on my mind lately... even before last Friday! If you haven't read it yet, DO.

Failed to enjoy work. Actually, failed even to try to enjoy it. Still fogged down a bit...

I believe that emotional trauma causes similar types of damage that the use of drugs can cause. It's funny to hear people say that drugs have made it hard for them to focus and remember things, think clearly and quickly, analyze thoroughly, communicate succinctly, and to strive for more than simple pleasures... because I have not had a drug problem so far but have been suffering from all of those exact same symptoms... for some time now. I first noticed the decline in college... during and after the psycho-ex years. My creativity dwindled, and I stopped being able to write. The druggies have finally caught up to me...

I am going to force myself to enjoy work today. Mind over misery. Let's see if I can do it.

Criminy!!! So I decide to look e up on the internet now... AFTER. Stupidass me.... The side effects include such things as paranoia, confusion, insomnia, anxiety, depression... all things I do NOT need a surplus of in my life! The effects last up to 2 weeks... so expect these sorts of blog entries for about that long. Tomorrow, I head out to GNC or the drugstore to pick up that 5HTP (I wonder if I could OD that stuff). I am convinced, finally, that I need to be serious about countermeasures. So much trouble out of one, er two, little pills... Arrrrghhh.

I just came back from a day of playing paintball. I had fun, but could've had a funner time. I dunno... something was kinda unsettling about seeing friends from different places all at once. I've seen it before... but not with people from such different parts of my life. Allie was there, my cousin Doug was there... and there were new people that I had met recently, like Sean, and people I just met today, like Kyle. I felt pressure to make sure everyone was having a good time, but I felt unable to connect with anyone. I haven't had enough sleep lately, and maybe that's why I felt so awkward. Sometimes I just don't have the energy to search for the appropriate words... I don't think I will coordinate anything big again for awhile. Maybe I need to do my own thing for some time... would love to take a trip by myself somewhere. I'm convinced that that's what the doctor would recommend for all that ails me.

Since getting home, I've been feeling depressed. The feeling started to grow on me since during the last paintball games. I just wanna go to bed and experience dreamless sleep for days... or nap in the warm sunlight while listening to the noises the breeze makes as it touches the objects around me. Warmth and those sounds will bring up pleasant items from my memory... I don't like working out some of my issues. I need to put them in the recycle bin and trash them, and move on... There is a moral to this story, and I must remember it.

The more I think about it, the less "should I or shouldn't I do it again?" is the question. I could have perfectly innocent e-pisodes that won't jeopardize any of my valued relationships or significantly bring down my health. And I really should have more faith in myself not to start an addiction to anything so harmful to my wellbeing... I think the real question is, "am I letting repression do me more harm than help?" If I use drugs as a way and excuse to unleash my inhibitions, I think I could actually become more addicted to the release than to the drugs. Not a well-thought-out idea...but deserving of notation nonetheless. I should resolve what to do about the above... Arghh, I'll repress dealing with repression for now. Seems so silly... and I have to get some sleep.

So last nite I finally went out to see why ppl rave about raves and to try e. I had been holding off until now for good reasons... one being that I kinda already knew that I would like e. I wouldn't go to a rave w/o also dropping because the price of admission does not seem worth just the music and environment. I'm not into trance as much as some; I feel as if I could compose/execute that type music myself if I made it my full-time job. Ok, maybe I wouldn't sell any CDs... Anyhow, a tendency toward drug and alcohol addiction/abuse runs in my dad's side of the family. Rather than guess that I have not inherited the tendency, I assume I do so that I can prepare myself against it...

To date, I've not been into recreation drugs, and I don't want to get into them at any point in my life. The ideal scenario is that I achieve a level of satisfaction that would cut out the need for exaggerated states of happiness that come from drugs like e. Whether reaching that level is possible for me, I don't know. But I want to work toward it and fail miserably before I start a reliance on drugs for highs. Drugs could bring me down way too quickly. I might actually fear the indirect consequences of doing drugs more than the direct ones. Yes, I worry about eventual death, but I don't worry as much about what drugs would do to my body as what they could do to my relationships... with Dave, my friends, my parents, etc.

I'm glad I tried e at least once. I'm not sure where exactly it lies on the scale of addictivity. But I think that for me any drug would be close to a 10. My experience... e definitely offered me the opportunity to act upon repressed desires. I counted on being able to attribute whatever I did last nite to e. I knew what I was doing, and didn't do anything that would repulse me if I had to do it sober. e did everything I would want a drug to do. It seems like the ideal drug. And I think that, yes, e heightens the happiness that is already inside someone... For those who didn't seem to revel in rolling as much as I did last nite, I think they weren't as happy because they brought issues to the table that had a limiting effect. I mean, you shouldn't try a drug if you are skeptical, or you plan to fight the effects, or if you have serious problems with the possibility of letting others see a true, uninhibited you.

So will I drop e again? I won't deny that I want to, but I am going to try hard to stay away from it. Having just dropped once, the pressure that my repressed desires place on me to come out has increased. I mean, whatever I wanted before, I want even moreso now that I've had a taste... I can remember the feelings I had on e, and hopefully I will forget soon so I don't end up sabotoging my future...

I experience sudden onslaughts of intense rage too. Something like spontaneous combustion. It almost feels good, though, to be that pumped up and lively. I'm always convinced it's righteous anger; I wouldn't have entered rage stage if whatever tripped me off didn't wholly deserve my wrath. It brings me chills to feel so alive... though there is always a lurking fear that if I did release the fireball, it would be as ineffective as a spark. I mean, I worry that my effectiveness would not match my fervor... just like in my dreams, when I never manage to do any damage to my attackers even though I'm swinging with all my might. I would feel so stupid because I couldn't pull through. Now add my fear of death. I no longer battle cars that have cut me off because now I imagine they all have bats in their trunks or guns in their glove compartments, and won't hesitate to use them on lil ol' ineffective me. I haven't had a bout of rage in the last couple months. Maybe my level of passion in general has decreased a bit since the new year...

I was wondering the other day whether I should work on getting rid of my fear of death, or at least toning it down. My answer was no, because I think that the fear is helping me preserve my life, as well as the quality of it. But I really feel silly always bringing it up as an excuse not to do things...

And people wonder why I don't wanna smoke pot while riding in their cars...

I can't sleep tonite. I think it's 'cuz i went to bed w/ damp hair, around 2 in the morning. My nose is running. When you have insomnia, but aren't really alert, your mind races. I keep thinking about all the stuff I have to do tomorrow... and I feel paranoid. I'm worried I will not do everything I need to do tomorrow in a timely manner, and plans will not pan out the way I want them to. I'm such a control freak. I'm also strangely worried about my death... I mean, my fear of death isn't new, but it's strange that I am actually examining events in my near future for any endangerment to my life. I do this when I am on ski lifts. I always try to have the optimal escape route calculated and ready in my mind to act upon in the event of an accident... If this chair were to fall, what's the most I could do to escape death? What is the best way to fall to incur the least damage? ...as if tucking into a ball and trying to eject myself out of the chair feet first could actually be done in the split second that it takes for the accident to occur... I want to do Friday Nite Skate again in the near future, but I am afraid this time I will die. I was so fearless the first time, having only rollerbladed a couple times, and not knowing how to brake yet. I am going to a rave this Friday... and there are seem to be many random and not-so-random ways I could die during/after the event. I was never before fearful about having large amounts of people around me. But for some reason, I am now. What do I fear? Mostly that I will be randomly selected for sabotoge... or that I will die on the way home. I really don't trust anyone else's driving these days. I wasn't like that in the past... would embrace free rides. Now I want to be designated driver when it's not Dave driving me to and from. I wonder how my driving compares to that of all of my friends... It would be cool if I could take them all to a race track one of these days and compare. I think I drive relatively well, but there is no way for me to be certain about it unless I raced others. I'm talking about driving stick... When you drive an automatic, and don't have to worry about the stick, you focus a bit more on manueverment. I used to weave a lot more when I had an automatic. When you drive a stick, you focus more on speed timing and other efficiencies... I think I have a good handle of those aspects. And I think I am more kinesthetically inclined than some. The one thing I can't really do well w/ my body is dance. I would love to learn how to dance... Need to get myself some of those clear plastic platforms that strippers wear. I love those. Saw 'em at a couple stores on Haight. Gotta get 'em one of these days.

I am going to try to go to sleep now. I have to be at work at 8:30am. Sigh.

"Can you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?"

I would hope so. To date, no one's ever come to me directly and said they couldn't quite. But maybe... maybe I am not very easily understood. I try to say things the simplest way possible. Sometimes I take shortcuts when I feel as if I can do so and still be understood. But I think that my whole perception of how I am coming across might be skewed. I think it might be an nightmarish experience to interact with myself from a third-person point of view.

I mean, either what I am saying doesn't make sense to you, sounds absurd to you, or needs clarification. Let me know which... instead of simply saying "huh?" or "what?" Help me help you understand me.

Tonight we play rollerhockey. I hope that the night doesn't get cancelled for any dumb reason. I can't afford to NOT play once a week. I need to kick up my skills a couple notches. And FAST. Will NOT let *anyone* surpass me. Especially not those competitive frebay folks who organize games w/o including me... Their clandestine games will not help them gain advantage over me.

So many goddamn times I wanna write here... but can't because I don't have a computer at home. Pity. I have so many things I gotta let out. I have badly wanted a laptop for quite awhile. Despite the fact that I'm not going to get to own my own computer for several years, I'm starting a new blog now. I wanna release all my thoughts somewhere... no-holds-barred. My new blog will include irrational rants, forbidden fantasies, and the mundane details of my day-to-day grind.

I have been getting to work past 11 for the last two weeks. That's not normal. I'm going thru something. Doesn't help that the weather keeps on changing unpredictably... I'm repressed, but voluntarily. I feel as I'm being a "good" girl, going down the shortest and straightest path to success and long term happiness. See, now I'm thinking long term. I'm also eating a lot more than before. Why is it so hard to get up in the mornings, even when I have a great motive to do so? I should get up early and exercise before I get in to work. I'm still on a quest to subdue the aging process. I must look good to make you love me. I continuously struggle with work, as I currently know it, being such a fact-of-life... spending so much time doing something that does nothing more for me than pay my bills. I want to do something that involves travel and more interaction with unique people.

I want to be an agent... Have you ever watched an episode of Alias? I would die within the first five mintues of my first mission. I don't have what it takes. But I wish I did. I am drawn to the idea of living a double life. Not because of the deception... but because it would allow me to experience more than one lifestyle simultaneously. I would not stoop to duplicity of lifestyle w/o justification. So many possibilities, so many types of Jennies... each just as interesting as the next. It seems a shame that I can only be one at once.

I tend to watch TV shows that are centered around the subject of death. Lately, I've been watching Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, Law & Order: Criminal Intent, and CSI. I tried watching Six Feet Under... but it was a bit too morbid for me. I wonder what working with dead people would do to me. Would it help me deal better with the issue of death? Or would it make me even more paranoid and preoccupied with death? Most probably the latter.

I feel sorry for my future kids. I don't know if I could resist the urge to try to make them my puppets. When they're old enough to overpower me, I dunno what I'd do. Maybe by then I'll be worn down and passive, like a neutered animal. Now, I suffer from power-envy. I want you to adore me, to be curious about me, to be impressed by me... I want you to laugh at my jokes, value my opinion... I want to collect you like toys. I would treat you well...

I don't really want to see him or talk to him on the phone;I imagine it would be awfully awkward. I wish there was some way he could just know what I want him to know... that the reason I couldn't be with him back then isn't that he wasn't a good boyfriend or that I'd stopped loving him. He was a near-perfect to me... sweet, caring, thoughtful, smart, funny, cute, forever lovable, and more. It WASN'T him, it WAS me. Maybe he already knows that or doesn't really need or care to know now. I wish I could be sure that if it matters, he knows. It'd be great if he somehow stumbled upon my blog and read all this here.

I logged in to my Hotmail account today to do some cleanup... to check to see there was any email from anyone from my distant past, by chance, amidst all the email re: parties and porn. Nothing but garbage in there. I emptied all the folders... except one, which contains some really old but memorable emails I've received. There were a couple from Brian... and I got blurry-eyed reading them. I wonder when/if I'm ever going to see him or talk to him. I wonder if I will ever stop feeling bad about the way I left him.

What I need to do is go grab my keyboard from my parents' home.

So I went to an Incubus concert last nite. Since it's been more than a couple months since I wanted to see them in concert, the enthusiasm had kinda died down by the date of the concert. I still remember searching the internet for concert dates back in the Fall, bothered that I didn't have any money to spare to buy myself the Morning View CD, and desperately looking for close-ups pix of Brandon... who is quite hot.

The concert was better than I'd expected, until the last couple of songs... which were still very good, but not quite as good 'cuz my feet felt like they were bouncing on broken glass. Sigh, another reason I need to lose weight... gotta stop punishing the feet this way.

Anyhow, what impressed me the most about the band is that they are so versatile. They pull off quite a variety of sounds. Sometimes pop, sometimes very rock, sometimes soft rock. Amazing.

Rock stars continue to have the ultimate young lives, seemingly. To mention the lead singer again, he is cut and gorgeous because he doesn't have to sit on his ass all day behind a desk. He gets a great workout every time he performs. Runner's high is great, but I bet Performer's high is out-of-this-world. Offhand note: the guy's voice sounds funny when he's not singing. And who knows, maybe he wears makeup. But whatever the case, if I could have a white man just like him, I'd b happy... for at least 5 minutes. Guilt-free.

After further thinking... nah, it can't be a friend-related issue either that's getting me down. I can't imagine what more they could do to make me happier. It's gotta be that whole fundamental emptiness thing again...

Maybe if I stuff myself with icecream and gummybears tonite I'll feel better... for about 5 minutes. Then enormous guilt will settle in.

It probably boils down to me getting as much as I put in, which is not really much, I know.

I am not able to focus on my work today. I am bothered. But I'm not completely sure about what is truly bothering me. At first, I thought it's my relationship w/ Dave. But no... no new or big issues there. The more I think about it, the more I think it's about my friends. But I can't pinpoint what bothers me about them. What is it I really want out of them? Aren't I getting as much as I want?

I don't feel good today. Not that I'm usually a bundle of smiles and laughter. A series of bad dreams last night has left me grumpier than usual.

Maybe I had bad dreams because I was questioning myself about some things over the weekend... my relationship with Dave being one of those things. I wonder... does he possess the bundle of stats that is most optimal for me... and/or is he the best I can do for myself at this time? Is cuteness and smartness enough? Would I be happy marrying cuteness and smartness, if cuteness and deepness were available/attainable? If not, what do I do now?

I think I should be more cheerful in public. And maybe I should examine why I do not get very close to many people... Is it unwillingness on my part, or is it failure or inability? Maybe, I AM close, but I just never feel as if I am. Maybe my idea of close is more strictly defined. Am I alone again? If so, why do I not feel so bothered by it? Am I supressing? Maybe I am not really in touch with what truly bothers me. Maybe, again, my subconscious is trying to tell me something or get me to feel something... I dunno...

I meant to write here two days ago, and yesterday too... I wanted to write on 4/10 because it was Brian's bday.

I sent him a card today... late. I feel bad. I debated long about whether to send an card or an ecard, or nothing. I had things to say about him here two days ago. Those things have since flittered out of my mind. I will have to write about something else.

All things taken into consideration, life is better now than it was 2 years ago. (Do I keep on repeating this?) I've asked myself why things are better... and I think the answer must be that there are a lot more ppl in my life now. Having this many ppl to play with was not possible while I was in my past relationships. I am not particularly close to most of the ppl in my life, but they are there. And that seems to be enough for me... I feel as if I'm a team manager, and the people in my life are players on my team. I choose my team based on stats. I add and drop as necessary so as to come out on top in the whole game of life. If I have to drop players for better players to win, I'll do it. And sometimes there are mutually beneficial trades.

Mutually beneficial interactions are the best. You give me X, I give u Y. We both walk away happy.

Yesterday's topic of interest was babies and marriage. I am ready to start planning for both now. Something clicked this week, and I realized that to make both work, I have to start laying some things down now. Optimally, I would start having babies around age 31. That's some time from now. Between now and then, there are a buncha things i need to get done. I'm giving myself that much time, tho... before my self-centered life ends and I start living through my kids.

I tolerate sad people a lot better than I tolerate angry people. But I'd rather be an angry person than a sad person. I remember when I first learned how to convert my angst into anger... during the last days of my college experience. It's essential to know how to do that. There's constructive anger and waste-of-time anger, in my opinion. I think some people go the way of waste. There is a difference between defensive or vindictive anger and i-feel-the-need-to-pound-something-down-just-for-the-hell-of-it anger or please-remove-this-stick-from-up-my-ass-before-i-ram-one-up-yours-for-no-particular-reason anger.

I'm so incredibly lazy. I stayed in bed until 9:30am today just to keep on dreaming.

I had an interesting dream. A big group of us were on a journey through a forest on a mountain. Along the way, I found one of my friends being beaten to death. And he was not fighting back. In fact, he was willing to die. He had a smile on his face, as if he had arranged to be beaten to death like that... homicidal suicide or something. Anyhow, I wanted him to live so much more than he did. I pleaded with him to not let himself go this way. He wouldn't listen. He just continued to let his attackers sap his life. Finally, I rushed in and snatched him away... I had him in a strong hold. He was safe from harm in my arms, and then I kissed him. He kissed me back, passionately, and I felt as if I had saved him... as if giving him love made him forget about wanting to die. And after having saved his life, I wanted him so much... We continued to kiss. It was such a glorious moment. Such a rush of feeling that I don't experience in real life these days.

So later when I woke up, I wondered... Have I been receiving subconscious messages from my friend in real life? Is he on the verge of suicide, or ambivalent about whether he lives or dies? If I knew he was on the edge ready to jump, I would definitely step in. But with my love? Do I have subconscious feelings of love for him? In real life, I don't. However, I suspect my subconscious has more of an influence on me than it should sometimes. I mean, the dream seems to come before the feeling. I guess it's a unique way of fantasizing... leaving it up to my subconscious to create characters out of the people I know. Then in real life, I see ppl the way my subconscious wants to see them. Not as they really are. It's more amusing that way... I end up never really getting to know ppl for who they really are, for better or for worse.

I've was sick the last couple of days. There's nothing like being sick to curb a raging appetite. But now that I'm feeling better, the NEED for FEED has set back in. Prognosis: I am never going to lose the amount of fat I need/want to lose. The other day, I happened to catch a glimpse of my hind quarters in a changing room mirror... damn. Is that MY blubbery ass propped up by two chunky dimpled drumsticks eating that poor tiny thong??

It's so hard to do what I need to do to fix...

I saw AI the movie on Sat nite. Though the plot of the movie is questionable, the work that ILM did in it deserves a hearty A. I'd have to say, the best thing about AI is Teddy. I SOOO want Teddy now. SOOO cute. GIMME!! Although the movie's slightly unsucessful melodrama itself takes down most of the gravity of the moral issues it touches upon, as well as the tragedy of the situations in which the characters find themselves, Teddy is the clincher. In a similar manner as Wilson in Castaway and JarJarBinks in Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Teddy distracts and detracts. But dissimilarly, he is not a tad bit ludicrous or annoyingly childish. By the end of the movie, I cared so much more about the fate and feelings of Teddy than any of the other characters. It seemed much more of a tragedy that at the end that Teddy was left utterly alone than that the main character suffered for over 2000 years w/o love.

My network connection fuckin sucks here at work right now. For those of you who don't already know, I work at Sun Microsystems. "The Network is the computer," or more recently, "We make the Net Work." Yeah right. Every single day. My network connection limits my productivity tenfold. Browser pages take 30 seconds to 5 minutes to load. Applications take 20 seconds to save documents... etc.

Well, I'm more or less satisfied here in this position now. On Monday, I'll finally be earning within 1k of what I was earning yearly nearly two years ago. I've worked hard to get within 5k of what I used to earn... Not there yet, but I'm on my way, full speed ahead... Pure blood, sweat, and tears.

Last nite I had dinner with Allie. Every time I talk to her, I move a step closer to complete closure. I met Allie in June 2000 when I was looking for a new place to live. Instead of moving in to her house, I moved into her workplace. That was the beginning of the end of my 2k-a-month (on wining/dining, drinking/partying, travelling/exploring, shopping/pampering, totally LIVING to the max) lifestyle. After a couple of months of insanity at that whorehouse, and the aftermath, I was left with 20k credit card debt and 26k in lost wages, very little self-confidence, shame and guilt for having to depend on someone else for my meals and entertainment, and bi-sexual "friends" I have since worked on trying to stay out of touch with. Except Allie. She apologizes profusely each and every time we talk, for enticing me into the place of debauchery... (I don't blame her... It was entirely my decision.) She's so anxious to leave there, and I'm doing all I can to help her get out. Oh and she's not bi-sexual.

Once she finds a great new job, I will be able to slam the door completely shut and dead bolt it down behind me. THAT'S when you'll finally stop having to hear about all this shit again and again...

You're Wakka! Sometimes you can be a little biased, and very emotional (especially if its relating to family and close friends). You'll often judge individuals by how they look, or their background rather by getting to know them personally. You have a short temper, raging emotions... but you're usually fun to be with.

Which Final Fantasy X Character would YOU be? Take the test.

My wisdom teeth are hurting me. The lower left ached terribly yesterday. I've been putting off getting all my wisdom teeth taken out for nearly a decade. My dentist, who is also my uncle, says that the older I am when I get them out, the more suffering there will be. Them roots are probably pretty long and deep by now. So why didn't I get these puppies taken out before, and why am I not jumping to make an appointment to get them taken out now? Same reason... overwhelming fear of death. Local anesthesia is out of the question; I couldn't bear to watch them stick those sharp tools in my mouth, feel the pressure of the scalpels, see my blood through the suction tube, etc. I'd have nightmares and phantom pains for days. But I'm so afraid that if they knock me completely out, I'd never wake up again. Back 10 years ago, I heard that there was a high risk of that type of thing happening... I must've read it somewhere. I guess I should try to find current stats for complete anesthesia today or soon... and even so, I'm going to have to wait until I have some money to spend on the procedure.

Everyone's gotta be allowed to have someone in their lives that they don't like for no really good reason...

I like about 85% of the people I meet at first sight. Pretty high percentage. I'd say up to 80% of the ppl that I initially dislike I give second chances. But there's that small percentage who, no matter how nice they really are or no matter how unmerited my dislike for them, I don't give any chances to get into my good graces. They're lost causes. I like to dislike them. And I'm stubborn about it.

Examples of types I don't like...

1) women with hair that's too short
2) men who look like women with hair that's too short
3) women who prefer the company of men but who pretend to like women
4) people who are too cheerful all the time
5) people who embrace drama
6) men who perceive women as objects or toys
7) women who remind me of young boys

Fixations. What're yours? I've had an oral fixation for forever. I think now I have a death fixation too... 'Course those fixations are two totally different kinds. I mean, I don't like death and don't wanna experience it in any way. It's just... I think I dwell on it more than others around me...

Well, I received an email the other day... It's about Maria, Andrea's sister, who was shot and killed last year in June. The email is an invitation. Her friends and family are celebrating her birthday all day next weekend -- visiting the site where she was shot and the cemetary where she rests, and starting a foundation for her during a dinner party in the evening - and my presence at these "festivities" has been requested .

I really really want to support my friend Andrea... like I wanted to when the death just happened. But... I could hardly deal with the situation back then, and I still can't quite. It's been many months. I have avoided seeing Andrea since the first month. I have tried to keep in touch with her through email. But I never know what to say, and my emails are two-liners. She doesn't ever write back. I understand that... and I know what I should be doing is visiting her. I just can't bring myself to... It's hard to even talk about her. I am so averse to remembering Maria's death. Andrea and her friends and family seem so obssessed with immersing themselves in it... for as long as possible. Not willing to forget and move on. And I suppose that's natural. And good for them. But it makes me sick to think about it all now. I don't think I will ever dissociate Andrea from that death. I can't hang out with her. I don't want her to think I am only a fair-weather friend. But I have no will to allow myself to suffer along with her at this time.

I'll contribute to the foundation, but I won't participate in the the celebration of a dead person's birthday. Poor as I am, I would rather contribute than find myself in a cemetery, donning a sad, frowny face, scrambling for words to say to a teary-eyed Andrea and family, and dwelling on the questions of life and death that trouble me enough as it is...

Please forgive me, Andrea.

Dissident Reign.

I've been thinking over the last couple months that if I got to name a summon or aeon or some 'specially awesome move within a video game, I'd bestow Dissident Reign. I like the sound of that because it sounds like "distant rain" or "dissident rain" or "distant reign."

I wish I had the talent necessary to work at a game company and help develop characters and storylines and names of various things within games.

In college, I used to wonder which I'd pick if I was offered either perfect skin or a perfect body. Like, if I ran into a genie, and those were my only two wish options... Back then, my bod wasn't all that bad but I had more than my share of zits. And I was born with semi-rough and dry skin. A mild form of keratosis. So from early on I wanted to become a dermatologist or internal med doctor when I grew up. I didn't know if I'd outgrow the zits by my 20s, and having clear skin during your teens and early 20s is highly advantageous. But tho I worked out arduously, my idea of the perfect body always seemed a bit out of reach. Like, you'd have to have been born with a specific bone structure to look the way I wanted to... So I was in a quandary over which option I'd pick for the longest time. Now, I think I'd pick perfect body... tho it might be weird to have a perfect body when I'm old. That'd look pretty freakazoid. But I'd not have to work out as much for the rest of my life. And I could use the extra time... to work more and attain my other goal.

I dunno... Thing is, if I was given a third option, the ability to determine when I die, I'd take that option hands down. I'd take that over an option to have unlimited amount of money, or enough to travel the world for 40 years and not have to work. I worry about sudden death a lot. I worry that it will catch me before I've figured out whether to believe in Heaven and Hell. So, it's the best option yet. Even if another option was the ability to determine how I die. I'd still pick the when over the how. Time.

A year or so ago, I thought I was going through an ugly stage... I thought, well, once I got back my money, I'd be able to spend on fixing myself up and maintaining like I used to. Since, I've realized that THIS AIN'T NO STAGE. I'm simply GETTING OLD... and there is no turning back. No amount of money or working out will bring back the former face and bod... but that's alright. I've had my days, and it's time for others to shine. U early 20-year-olds, flaunt what u got while u still got it. Revel in your youth and beauty, and exercise the power that is yours because you possess them. Go out and use them to get a head start in the game called the rest of your life.... while I go on with my pilgrimage.

I want to go on a pilgrimage.

Gosh, me and GAMES. I'm a speed (dist/time, not the drug) and competition junkie. I got into work and online this morning to find out that guy in first place, Fish-Eye-Fool, in my Fantasy NBA game picked up a player I've had my eyes set on for days. I had to wait until the games were over last nite to make a final decision re: who to drop to pick up the new player. Damnit. Now I'm going to have to devote an hr of work time trying to figure out how to upset Fish-Eye-Fool's new advantage... Playing these games is so fun. It's just, my whole mood dropped when I saw that my player had been picked up today. I will be steaming about it for the next couple of days...

Oh, me feeling empty doesn't mean I also feel unhappy. I'm not that unhappy... I'm unmotivated to live, not unwilling to live.

One of my friends broke up w/ his girlfriend on Friday. He says the emptiness he feels keeps him from sleeping. His emptiness, my emptiness... the difference is, I still have a significant other. I suppose his emptiness is exacerbated or simply accompanied by loneliness. I don't feel lonely. Just empty. This BIG EMPTY (to borrow the song title) has been with me for awhile, through the eras of my life, through many relationships...

When u spend the majority of your life having religion (the kind that insists u are an evildoer destined for a horrible eternity if u don't live the rest of your life allowing overwhelming guilt to compel u to supress your human nature) crammed down your throat to the point that u gag, and blasted into your brain so that it is impossible for u to ever become a complete athiest, the moment u have not only rejected it but have also finally broken away from the chokehold it has had on every aspect of your life up until that moment, u suddenly realize that your life no longer has MEANING. It's the ultimate in bad epiphanies. You've been irreversibly conditioned into needing there to be some purpose for life, even though u won't accept that it's to glorify God. U are unable to comprehend or deal with the possibility that there is absolutely no real rhyme or reason to life.

U scramble to find new meaning because without it, life doesn't seem worth the effort (er, heart blood - per 2/5/2001 post) most of the time... So when u come up with nothing good enough time and time again... BIG EMPTY.

What I have in the interim to fill the void is the pursuit of wealth and the ultimate bod. But that's not going too well.

I was thinking about the above while I was driving to work this morning... and as soon as I had completed the thought, I looked down to see a bumper sticker on the car in front of me that read, "Death is not fatal... Trust Jesus." Weeeeeell, whaddaya know? Was that a mere coincidence, or are my mom's prayers actually working??

I haven't been to a comedy club in awhile. I'd like to go sometime soon. Get my laugh on... I have a pretty unique sense of humor, tho... I don't find many things funny that a lot of other people do. Most of the time, I find myself laughing out of courtesy or peer pressure or 'cuz i'm drunk and can't help myself. My humor is sarcastic and quite esoteric, and the one person in this world that I think emulates and appreciates a similar type of humor is my ex-, Brian.

I haven't yet passed the amount of time that it would take for me to stop thinking about Brian at least every other day. Especially lately, he loiters in my mind... since I have been doing a lot of reminiscing about my days at Cal and immediately after. Cal came back up in my mind in a rush when I started hanging out with people from Cal again... late last year. One of these days, I'll figure out a justifiable reason to email Brian. It's been months since we last talked, and I fear his response... or lack of response.

I had lunch with an old coworker today. I have lunch with him once every couple of months. And he always pays... even when I actually have cash in my wallet, and I throw it out on the table before he gets his credit card out. Our conversations are always pretty much the same. He talks about remodeling a new house he's bought. Gives me an update on his house in Tahoe and his other house in Mexico. He asks me if I'm still with "what's-his-name." I tell him yes, things are going WELL with us. I emphasize WELL... I ask him about his girlfriend turned wife. He just married her in December. He says she sold her house and moved in with him... more for convenience than any other reason, he points out. He sighs and says she made him marry her because she wants kids. I ask him if he wants kids. He says he can imagine treating his kids a lot better than he treats his wife... Lunch is over, and before I can leave, he suddenly forces me into a bear hug and tells me he's always had a huge crush on me and wants me so badly he would pay. I tell him he's a bad, silly man and push him away. But no, I'm not offended. As he walks away, he tells me to give him a call if I ever need anything at all. This same script plays out EVERY SINGLE TIME I see him. And I guess one of these days, I should just not answer his emails or calls to go out to lunch because I know he's gonna proposition me at the end of the meal... Aside from trying to pay me for sex, he's not that bad friend, tho... He's good for free lunches, and I've kept him on my "network" list... just in case some day all this small degree of sexual abuse I endure could pay off.

OK. I'm not really that huge a fan. Just a bigger fan than I am of any other band at the moment. And I wouldn't really kick anyone out of my life... unless they repeatedly dogged me, and I had problems with their personality to begin with.

U had to have known I'm a huge Incubus fan... If u didn't know, get to know me better! I'd been looking for concert tix since November 01. Glad I found out about it... before tix sold out. If that happened, and I found out after the fact, I'd have kicked yer ass out of my life... well, maybe just for a month or so.

Games like FFX have a way of making real life seem even more depressing, dull, and meaningless. Where are my missions? What am I fighting for that is worth my life? Where is my posse to fight each of my battles alongside me?

There are always very religious themes running through these games, which tend to make an agnostic life w/ minimal interaction with God seem so... wrong. And wasteful.

My only real gripe with the game is the translation of the dialog from Japanese to English, including the bad lip sync due to not changing the mouth movements to form the English dialog instead of the original Japanese. To get over the sometimes choppy, odd, or implausible dialog, I just ignore the voices and "hear" the original Japanese dialog while doing my best to get the ideas it's trying to convey from the text. I figure some congruency had to have been lost during the translation and adaptation to audio. Or, some understanding of why the characters act/react a particular way (Japanese culture influence?) could have been lost when the Japanese was taken out. I kinda wish they had an option for me to hear the Japanese while reading the English "subtitles."