you don't bring me flowers anymore.

"what is a friend? a single soul dwelling in two bodies."
or so the saying goes.

wow, i really hate that song. and yet, tragically, i have it stuck in my head and am now immortalizing it on cyberspace, potentially to complete strangers or people who might have weird fetishes with that song. oh, mental image... abort, abort, abort. why it is in my head, one can only speculate. all day, it has been filled with good-slash-healthy music like mason jennings, u2, and ella fitzgerald, only to revert to this during my bimonthly blog post. my neglected blog is indeed a scarce glimpse into the many, many voices in my head, and it's unfortunate - nay - catastrophic that these are the voices with which my readers(?) are left. perhaps i'm doing this because of the many years of growing up on barbara streisand and neil diamond. oh, young joy, why didn't anybody rescue you then? such a funny and unpredictable place, this world. nevertheless, i can't help but think that this does, perhaps, explain a lot. in addition, it may actually be the reason for my current singleness. yikes.

moving on.

for those who have never heard this song before, it is, more or less, about saying goodbye. that's the short version, anyway. i think it's in my head because the past month has been a process of closing a huge chapter of my life. in the past 37 days, i have: accepted/been accepted to a job, gone through commencement at chapman, said a very painful goodbye to my best friend, driven to the taiwanese consulate in santa monica not once, not twice, but THREE times to get my visa, quit my job, moved out of my house, had a garage sale, given away my furniture, sold my car, given away 1/3 of my wardrobe, gotten 4 separate vaccinations (also, i waited 3 hours for typhoid... which was oral, by the way... and took a total of 10 seconds to explain), gone to the dentist and had a tooth drilled and filled (also my first experience with novocaine, and it's not an attractive look for me), attempted to understand a little mandarin, said goodbye to my friends, researched and bought a plane ticket, done the father's day thing, celebrated my mom's birthday, cleared out every cabinet in the kitchen, and donated nearly 75 lbs of food. in all, it's been a long/short month. also, i'm baffled as to how i managed to pack for england before. it was so much harder this time. i'm a bit tired.

last saturday, a.c. threw me a going away soiree at la casita de limon. i'm so grateful that he did it for me, because i wanted closure on my college years, but severely lacked the energy to do it myself. i'd resolved to only spend time with those who called and wanted to see me. when he offered to organize this for me, he stressed the importance of support, and told me that he wanted to give everyone a chance to express that they're behind me in my decision. it was so encouraging to see my friends and to know that they would miss me. it made me more excited about moving on, though i am sorry that i won't see him and kirsten get married this fall. it was lovely to see people from my various years of school, and made me further appreciate the impact they have all had on my life. it was unique, too, for me to see a range from those i've known since the day i got to chapman to those i've only known since i graduated in january. they shared their favorite stories about me, re-told the truck story all over again, and passed pictures around. chapman was a truly extraordinary time in my life and introduced me to unwaveringly supportive friends. we've had our rough patches, but they have come through in even the most difficult and unexpected ways. in my most cynical moments, they have managed to slowly restore the hopelessly broken pieces of my heart. saturday was just another affirmation of how blessed i am.

not gonna lie, chapman, i had a few hard years in there. but i firmly believe that these were the best, most constructive years of my life. i've slowly overcome my darkest fears - my overwhelming and almost insatiable fear of being alone. my fear of what others might think. my fear of alienating people. my crippling acceptance of who others tell me i am or who i should be. and the shattered pieces of my heart that have been produced by unhealthy relationships or the many, many mistakes i've made have become insignificant, the proverbial pieces of dry and dead skin i've shed. i've stopped trying to reattach it and am learning to embrace the new, albeit different and uncomfortable skin underneath.




my flight leaves tonight. i think i'm ready.