taipei 101: the physical structure and the metaphysical art of living in taiwan.

"rules were made to be broken."
or so the saying goes.

i've been here 3 days, and i already feel that i couldn't possibly sum up all that has happened to me. in my first 24 hours, i was introduced to my school, went through what felt like weeks of training in mere hours, and found an apartment. i've ridden on the back of a motor scooter and gone to the top of the tallest building in the world. i've eaten shrimp whole, learned minimal chinese, and realized that i pretty much don't know anything. remember that time i worked at starbucks and actually knew what i was doing?

people don't live by rules here. they have guidelines, and the rest is up to you. unless you're eating in the mrt. then there are rules. they sort of follow the traffic lights and sort of park in designated places. pedestrians sort of have the right-of-way and people sort of work the usual hours.

people here are accommodating and exceptionally kind. today, while "getting lost" on the mrt, i talked to a half dozen 16 year olds. they wanted to know all about me: where i was from, why i was in taipei, where i lived, where i worked, whether or not i liked the city... they giggled at my broken chinese and oohed and ahhed at my clothes and nose piercing. the older people around us just smiled. i disembarked the train with a chorus of "goodbyes" following me. though i barely understand anyone or anything around me, they have the keen ability of making me feel like i'm home.

the city just feels grungy, all day, every day. it's a combination of the poor air quality, the oppressive humidity, the constant odor of something burning, and the generally dirty streets. it's not grungy like "trash" grungy. stores are clean, i've yet to get food poisoning, and people are well-groomed. it's as if there simply isn't enough time or space to hose down the sidewalks or send a street sweeper through.

i feel very conspicuous all the time. i feel like i'm constantly being watched, not in a menacing way, but in a curious way. no matter how confident i look as i walk down the streets or how much chinese i might learn, i've realized that i will always stand out as a foreigner. the last time i felt this naked in public was on the buses of new cross gate and peckham rye. they all looked at me as if that simply wasn't my part of london, and during those times, part of me felt like they were right. children stare... they're fascinated by everything about me. older people smile at me politely, but always in such a way that reflects they they know, absolutely, that i have no idea what i'm doing.

i think that when i went to london, i just wasn't ready. looking back, i appreciate that time, but i feel that maybe i was just too young. it was a combination of things... being away from jeff, undertaking 6 months instead of 3, feeling pressured to go out, and being moderately afraid. i feel that one year would have made a huge difference. it took almost half the time i was there for me to truly enjoy the experience. though i understand nobody and nothing here, i feel so ready to be here. i'm fine with sitting quietly by myself, with being consumed with work by day, eating a quiet dinner, exploring, reading up on the city, shopping at the local markets. it's like a scavenger hunt to see if i can find the place that has what i'm looking for. i'm less afraid, less pressured, more flexible. i look forward to what the year brings, and am excited for further adventures.

for your viewing pleasure:
<--- taipei 101
<---- taipei (aka home) <---- me atop taipei 101 <---- chiang kai-shek memorial

it's 11:21

"logic is the art of going wrong with confidence."
or so the saying goes.

and i'm seriously going on 19 hours of alertness/coherence. i'd go to sleep, but i'm afraid i'll wake up without my shit.

now, good travelers, you would think that the los angeles airport would be semi-dead at this hour. after all, it is a tuesday night and it is nearly midnight. but oh no. in actuality, my friends, it is its own private hell. it's hot, it's stuffy, it's loud, and i am squished into a tiny corner of the airport because, high five(!), i managed to find an open outlet. also, because i couldn't find an open seat next to my gate. we don't board for another hour and a half, so i thought i'd make the most of the money i spent on t-mobile access earlier today.

and i'm mildly amused watching people run to make their flights. you'd be surprised that some can move as fast as they do. also, one would think that it's logical that, if gates are numbered 101-123, 101 would be first. nay, my friends. 101 is on the other side of the terminal, and 123 is the most accessible gate. i hate you, lax.

long gone are the days of sitting in dead silence as i wait for my ryanair/easyjet flight to board.

the panic attacks have subsided for the time being.






on a serious note, i want to ask you all for some prayer. i found out today that my mom's best friend has pancreatic cancer. while she is a believer, it pains us all to see her this way. she's a lovely person... one of my favorite people, in fact. and while we all know the Lord is in control, my heart breaks for her family and for my mother. this is bad, you guys. please be in prayer for her. while this situation seems dire, we are trying to keep in mind that God works outside of time and space. in his infinitude and grace, i am reminded that nothing is impossible and nothing is beyond Him. nothing. not even cancer.

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.

for the love of karen

"to love another person is to see the face of God."
or so the saying goes.

ah, television. a medium with so much drivel to wade through, though i suppose it's no different than film. or art. or music. or literature.

can i admit right now that i miss alias? yes, i loved victor garber as jack bristow and ron rifkin as arvin sloane. i said it, okay?! character evolution... imagine that!

while i could do without the box in my living room, there are two shows i watch regularly.
lost.
and the office.

lost. oh, there's so much to say about you, lost. your writers are just so good, and i love them for it, but they are, undoubtedly, the biggest bastards in the world. without qualms, they kill off all our favorite characters. your writers even dangle it in front of us, your faithful viewers, for weeks on end, yet we feel violated when they actually follow through. what kind of twisted individuals could kill charlie? your writers, that's who. we know it had to happen, because you've been leading up to it for months, but it still seemed so unfair. you never cease to surprise me, lost, with your intricate plots and your complicated characters. and if that weren't enough, you make me wonderfully uncomfortable with how unflinchingly you examine the darkest aspects of being finite and mortal. you openly and regularly extend the assumed boundaries of time and space and the spiritual realm and reality and the divine and psychology and what we want and what can/can't be and miracles and a higher being and social constructs. your writers know that these are the boundaries we assume because, without them, we fear that we might not even be functional. so they expand and contract them, and we all know that, deep down, this disturbs us. thank you, lost, for being willing to explore these things, because the world hides from them too often.

but this blog isn't even about lost. it's about the office. thanks to mary beth, i am obsessed. i've seen all the episodes, and am constantly amazed by its exceptional cleverness.

like any faithful office viewer, i am rooting for pam and jim. we all know that they belong together, and we detest karen and roy for getting in the way of destiny.

but as i've watched, i think something needs to be said in defense of karen. though i know it's my proper place to advocate jim and pam, i can't help but feel a bit sorry for karen. i mean, she's not a bad person or anything. she doesn't treat jim poorly as roy did to pam. unlike roy and pam, she and jim have a lot in common, and though she has reason to get a little crazy at times, she keeps her cool. anything that she's ever been uncomfortable with is within reason. anyone would feel a little disconcerted if they found out that their boyfriend had a thing with a co-worker and had never mentioned it before. or how about... he ran away because he got his heart broken by the receptionist. what??

but i've gotta say that, above all, i think that maybe i simply feel for karen because i see some of myself in her.
for example

or

or


she's got spunk, that karen. she's competitive. she tries to say it like she means it. she's awkward. she's intelligent. she's understanding. really, i like karen. the only reason she's screwed is because she doesn't know enough about what's really going on. i've been told over and over again that you can't do anything about how a guy feels about you. either he likes you or he doesn't, and it doesn't matter how hard you try. or maybe he really does like you, but not as much as somebody else. i really believe jim likes karen. but she's not pam.
it's nothing you did, karen. there's nothing wrong with you. really, really. honestly, the reason jim went back to pam isn't about you. it's just... well... you're just not pam. you can't say or do or try or fix or want or give anything to make him change his mind. it really is that simple.

i don't know how it happens, how some women are karens and others are pams. there's nothing wrong with either type of person. though office fans everywhere are rooting for pam, i must step up and say that we karens are perfectly fine... we're smart, pretty, compassionate... but we just can't seem to get the guy to see us instead of the pams. we wander around the dating pool, confused because, by all accounts, we haven't done anything wrong. in the vastness of it all, most would agree that we're a decent catch. we're cool. we're good friends. we get along with guys. getting their attention isn't the problem. and when asked, the jims of the world can't explain why the karens aren't quite right. and as a member of the karen variety, i will say that it's frustrating not to understand what's wrong, when really, really, really... we try so hard.

as season 4 comes around, i propose that we cut karen some slack. being dropped for no apparent reason, for no tangible, definable characteristic, isn't easy. watching the pams defeat us time and again, and not knowing what they have that we don't is difficult.

karens, here's to perseverance.

she told me, son, fear is the heart of love

"true love means never having to say you're sorry."
or so the saying goes.

if heaven and hell decide
that they both are satisfied
illuminate the "no"s on their vacancy signs
if there's no one beside you
when your soul embarks
then i'll follow you into the dark
-death cab

"you're beautiful" is all he could muster. fatigued and frustrated, he forced himself to believe that it culminated everything that they couldn't articulate. it was as if they had said everything through the unspoken, through the nuances in expression that only they could understand and the swift, imperceptible brushes of arms and hands. her smile communicated more than she could say, even when asked point blank. she knew that she could speak, if she could simply sit down and think it through, that she could speak eloquently. but every time she tried, it was choked back by blatant, inconvenient fear. surely, they could pull it together enough to simply say what they meant, but it couldn't be done. it was too difficult, too painful to explore it, so they remained reserved. she had to avoid verbalizing what she really meant, because it contradicted who she was and what she wanted to be. and he never wanted that for her. so they chose to bury the words, even to pretend that they couldn't find them. but in the midst of collapse, of compromise, it was clear. so clear, as if they were screaming the words in each others' faces but in a language only they understood.

"i think you're beautiful." it was a language anybody could understand, on any level they wanted. within it, everything unsaid dissipated. she knew, absolutely, that it encompassed everything they meant, everything she had hoped to say but could only say in silences, in awkward pauses, in all the nonsensical, ambiguous facial expressions she conjured. her response: a sincere, authoritative kiss and a coy smile. "maybe." the air around them was potent with "maybe." it was as precise as it could be.

"maybe."

is that all right, is that all right, is that all right with you?

"here's lookin' at you, kid."
or so the saying goes.

gilgamesh had enkidu. orestes had pylades. david had jonathan.
and joy? well.
once upon a time, joy met layce.

"Because we have a moment here, let me tell you that I have recently become a secret connoisseur of 'last looks'. You know the way people look at you when they believe it's for the last time? I've started collecting these looks. "
-drew, elizabethtown


there is no good way of saying it, of ever saying goodbye. i thought having this semester off would prepare me, but it all happened so fast - much faster than i thought it would. "you're my best friend, and i don't know how to express how much i will miss you. deeply. unequivocally. immeasurably." i wanted to say it, but i couldn't. it was too much. too many last looks in one day. "i love you, but i don't know how to do anything about it. i'm stuck, within myself and all the things i want." a combination of liberation and the stifling boundaries of being stuck inside the desire for something bigger, something more, and the hope that today, or any day, what we want will line up again. i love you, more than you could ever understand, but merely saying the words isn't enough. if i love you this much, why would i ever leave? they say that when you have this, if you're smart, you'll never let it go. i try not to think of it that way. i try to hold onto the hope that we let each other go because it's unselfish. because it's what you do if it really is love. i'm only sorry it took 20 years to find you, and 21 to love you and everything you contribute to my life. it seemed too long, and i hope you know that, despite it all, knowing you made that pain worth it. we both know that if it hadn't hurt that much, you and i wouldn't exist. i wish you'd been there to see it happen: the ups and downs, and the almost unnatural cruelty of extracting him. i always thought that extraction of him would lead to a different, better him, but it led me to you instead. despite my complaining, i ask myself always, what would i do without you? all the years of not being picked finally led me to you. you, the one who takes my side. flannery said that a good man is hard to find. and he is, but i've met good men. but a woman like you, a good friend like you, someone who is as consistent as you. you're the kind of person that takes 20 years to find. i know, because i've looked.

the results are in...

"when God closes a door, He opens a window."
or so the saying goes.

...and starting this summer, i will be residing in taiwan as an esl teacher for 1 whole year!

to those i love, i will miss you tremendously.

i'll tell you straight up...

"son, you'd better check yo'self before you wreck yo'self."
or so the saying goes.

i am spontaneously and inexplicably growing balls all over the place lately, even in the most awkward and borderline inappropriate situations. maybe it's because i really don't think i have anything to lose anymore. only took 4 some-odd years.

but i like it. honesty is liberating. watch yourself; you're probably next.

i'm gonna miss you, like i miss the ocean when i go to sleep, man it's gonna break my heart - mason jennings

"the first cut is the deepest."
or so the saying goes.

today's predominant topic of conversation was a reflection of the difficulty of finding truly faithful people. nobody's perfect, but i've realized how much i've come to accept a second-string role. not that acceptance doesn't frustrate me at times. i'm simply well-acquainted with the concept of other people getting picked over me. i think i can be a good friend, but i do realize that i become increasingly apathetic when i start to notice a few patterns. things like: not getting a phone call, making plans and having them broken for other people (unless it's the queen of england, this really shouldn't happen, and even then, you might want to ask if your friend can come along), consistently having others picked before me, or general boredom. yes, even in college, it turns out that some social constructs really never change.

my mom always used to tell me that i should feel lucky if i can find one truly faithful person who will always, no matter what, pick me first. she said a good way to conceptualize this is to imagine every person i know has won an amazing, all-expense paid trip to hawaii, but can only take one person. who do i think they'd pick? if i think it would be me, there's my answer. the disheartening truth is, however, that one of those people is moving away in about two weeks. i've said it once, twice, a dozen times, and i'll reiterate: i'm absolutely not okay with it. i'm going to feel a profound void when she's gone. she's my ally. my solution for today, however, is to live in denial.

i've usually been an advocate of many chances. and i know as well as anyone that nobody's perfect. but i'm finding that as school begins to fade away, i need to be more selective about some of the people in my life. not selective about who i should treat with kindness. that's everyone. or about who i should see, because i will see or spend time with a variety of people. but about who i feel is worth my genuine effort. about what i say. and about surrounding myself with people who encourage, edify, and challenge me. those people are difficult to find, but they are worth more than 10 of those who make me feel anxious or insecure.

an ode to steve

"the only person you can ever count on is yourself."
or so the saying goes.

let me be transparent for a moment. since i graduated from college, i've been dealing with bouts of depression. on occasion, it was "i don't want to get up" kind of depression, albeit that only lasted a few days, or maybe a week. i am not and have never been, however, a defeatist. i think that, if i really concentrate, i will probably be able to take control of my depression (or almost-depression, depending on how you look at it), and channel it into a more productive life. because i have extra time on my hands, i've concluded that this is now the perfect time to concentrate on aspects of my life to which i have not had time to attend during school. as i spent four years as a chronic insomniac due to stress, the absence of such stress has now presented the perfect time for me to polish up my life. i was happy to hear that my good friend nichole is doing the same. of the many things i would like to accomplish, here are a few short-term goals:
1) cultivate a more disciplined lifestyle
go to bed earlier and wake up earlier. this is hard for me, but i'm really trying. i don't like it when i lose a great deal of the day because i'm sleeping. i also am not fond of hangovers or a disorganized/dirty living space. i now rarely go to the bars with my friends because i prefer to have a quiet conversation over a cup of coffee or dinner. but i also acknowledge that everyone needs a release on occasion, so i don't condemn those who enjoy the bar scene more than i do. i'm slowly discovering that it requires a lot of discipline to maintain a tidy living space. while i can't control my roommates' living habits, i am making it a habit to keep my room exceptionally clean and organized. i make my bed much more often and am more deliberate about where i put paperwork and clothing. i have found that a tidier environment makes me a much more relaxed person, and has turned my room from a place to crash to a private haven.
2) deal with my acne
i'm 21, and i think my face is still far worse than it needs to be. while it's not severe enough to require acutaine or another harsh medication, it drives me crazy. i wash my pillowcases often, am disciplined about cleansing my face, and don't wear any heavy make-up, yet i still deal with break-outs. i've also realized that half my problem is simply scarring, but it makes my face look uneven, splotchy, and pubescent at best. my friend struggles far more than i do (she's turned to the 'taine), so i asked her for some advice. she recommended a few products to me, so i am hoping that some better make-up will give me a better complexion.
3) learn to cook
this is ridiculous. i've been living independently since i was 19. england. and while pasta and soup was acceptable there, it does not suffice here anymore. i'm tired of eating the same foods over and over with no tangible recipes in mind. i'm smart enough to know how to cook. so i bought myself a vegetarian cookbook, and i'm hoping that i'll be able to provide myself with more nutrients and variety.
4) improve my speech patterns
i have a degree in english. i know how to express myself, but i would like to be as articulate in person as i am on paper. paper is great because it is forgiving of pauses and omissions, while life is not. i use the words "like" and "um" far more than i should. so my first goal is to eradicate "like," and then move on to "um." i am speaking more slowly now, but i know that it takes practice. eventually, i think that i will be able to express myself with eloquence and speed, but it is going to be difficult for a while.
and finally...
5) lose a few pounds and stay in shape
it's self-explanatory, really. i'm not fat, but i know when my body isn't right. i would be extremely happy to lose 5 pounds or so. and i used to be competitive. it's weird not to be competing anymore, and i want to feel good about my fitness again.



on another topic...
for those who don't know, japan hasn't completely come through for me. this doesn't mean i'm not going, but it's also not absolute that i am. as a result, i'm looking into some other work options. let's face it: i'm about ready to bid the bux adieu. i'm attending some career fairs in my spare time, seeing if anything materializes. unfortunately/fortunately, i needed to do some shopping to find appropriate clothing. while it wasn't difficult to find clothes, since i do already have the necessary black skirt and tops are prolific, shoes were another story. all i wanted was plain black pumps. that's it! it's not hard! but there are no black pumps to be found anywhere. they're all peep toe. not quite professional, and we all know that styles come and go. peep-toes will be out soon, but most plain heels won't go out of style. i went to all the usual discount stores to find them: payless, target, ross. i did find some at target, but they had a bow, were already scuffed, and i didn't particularly care for them anyway.

then i gave dsw a try. for those who have never been, it's a store that sells designer items on a discounted price - a sort of shoe warehouse, if you will. i wandered through the numerous aisles of shoes: colored shoes, peep-toed shoes, strappy shoes, wedged shoes, thong shoes, open-toed shoes, close-toed shoes, ugly shoes... none of them particularly appealing because they were the wrong color or a far too casual style, until--
















there they were. the shoes for which i'd been searching. the shoes that had been eluding me for two weeks. who knew it would be so damn hard to find plain black pumps, no bows, no frills, no toes? and they were perfect. they were courtesy of none other than steve madden. okay, so they weren't $25 like the ones i found at target, but i see them as an investment. given that they'll never truly go out of style, they're extremely comfortable, they're versatile... good for the office or with a pair of jeans, and they're a better quality so they won't break down as quickly, i'll probably wear them several more years.

now that i've said these things, i think it would be a good time for me to gush about how much i love steve. i'm slowly starting to realize that it's one of my favorite shoe designers. steve's shoes are classic, sexy, and exceedingly comfortable. i always stop by the steve madden table when i'm shopping, if just to look, because i always love the simplicity and the sophistication of steve's designs. i, like any bargain-lovin' college student (or former college student) i know, can appreciate a cheap find. while i wouldn't include the shoes i bought in europe in the equation, i have been known to dance all night in my red wet seal peep-toe pumps to save a few (dozen) bucks.

nevertheless, a few months ago, i was fortunate enough to acquire these, also courtesy of steve.















so they were a bit of a splurge, but note the massive heel. 4 inches, people! yet they're so comfortable, i can wear them all day and still go dancing in them at night. my much less expensive shoes numbed my feet for days after merely one night out with the girls. but not these. these went all over houston with me, in and out of museums, and got numerous compliments in the process.

in short. i love shoes. i think european shoes are the best. but if europe is too far away, steve is pretty awesome, too, and i'd definitely wear them in europe. or asia, if that works out. or both, if life works out the way i hope.

not gonna lie...

"treat others as you want to be treated."
or so the saying goes.

i say that it didn't hurt, because it shouldn't have. i was purposely avoiding it. i pretend it didn't bother me. i feign to be more disdainful than i really am. i only smirk because i believe that everyone can see plainly that i'm merely pretending. it's an act, all of it. i act as if it's an inside joke only between you and me because we are the only people who know. you and me. you play along, because it's awkward. not just the kind of awkward that comes and goes because you and i come and go. the kind of awkward that you immediately want to obliterate because acknowledging it jeopardizes everything that comprises you and me. there can be no you and me, not even the simplest version of you and me, if that awkwardness seeps through. if it is remotely visible to those around us.

and i laugh, all the while hoping that i can control the spasms in my face long enough to make the obligatory eye contact with you, to force the smile out, when really, all i want to say is that you hurt my feelings. and i can hold that smile, if only for a fleeting instant - fortunately the only instant i need. but if i look at you longer than that, i know that you can see it. you can see my laughter metamorphose into vulnerability - the corners of my mouth twitching uncontrollably, the softening of my eyes from playful mockery to subtle dejection. if it's any longer than that moment. i may be blonde, or perhaps i was drunk, or maybe a few years of this has made me resilient or positive or hopeful, but i'm not indestructible. yet your eyes plead with me to be so, coax me to be so, manipulate me to be so, because, let's be reasonable, it wasn't long enough to hurt that much.

it is not, and has never been, as fine as we pretend it is. i know it, though i pretend i don't. and when you see my face after that short moment, that moment i can never seem to control, i think you know it, too.

i tell the truth here, to my non-existent blog-reader, because i otherwise lack the courage to say anything.

but i know, and now my blog knows, that it hurt. it really, deeply did.

the church, christians, and the gross unpopularity of believing

"not all who wander are lost."
or so the saying goes.

"augustine just woke up with a broken heart
all this time, he's never been awake before
at thirty-one his whole world is a question mark
all this time, he's never been awake before

watching dreams that he once had
feed the flame inside his head
in the quiet desperation of the emptiness he said,
'there's got to be something more, than what i'm living for
i'm crying out to You...'"

nearly 3 years ago, i read augustine's confessions. and while i maintain that he's a bit dry, there was something about his story that captivated me, that felt like an iron clasp on my soul. i would never claim to know as much, to ever hope to change the world as much as he did, or even that i think as hard as he did, but i related to the things he said. growing up with a mother that believed fervently in God and practiced her religion with devotion, augustine found himself rebelling against her faith. he loved and respected her, but there was something about it that he could not accept, could not feel, could not practice with sincerity. so he searched, and made numerous bad choices in the process. he ran from God and from religion as he understood it. even though his mother tried and pleaded, he couldn't - wouldn't - change. it wasn't for many years and after many, many poor decisions that he found himself before God, finally humbled. i have always felt that the most remarkable, powerful part of the story is not that he was lost and then was found, nor that he was blind and then saw. rather, i felt something when he was alone in a garden that one day, the day that everything changed. augustine, a man who thought he was too smart for everyone else, especially for tradition and God as his mother followed Him, cried out because he had reached the end of himself. because something inside his soul ached for what he knew he did not have, what he had been escaping for so long. i love that it defied logical explanation, that it was so intangible, but from which he could no longer hide.

i feel vindicated by augustine, because his belief in God was something that simply happened - a burst of faith that he later intellectualized. i walk so much by faith, perhaps not enough by academic and intellectual realization. i feel pulled, that there must be something more, that i can't run, yet there are aspects of christianity that i run away from, even hide from. augustine couldn't practice traditionally, but he knew God's presence when his soul cried out that day.

for the past year, perhaps even longer, i feel like i've been in the midst of an existential crisis. i've decided to stop attending church, and have spent significantly more time with people who have differing points of view on religion, faith, spirituality, the works. at times, i have even asked myself why i keep following Jesus. to those who don't see why this is a big deal, i think some perspective is necessary. while it's safe to say that temecula is a bubble, there exists dozens of sub-layers of bubbles beneath that one. there is temecula. then long-time temecula residents. then church-goers. then home-schoolers. and to top it all off, there are the home-schoolers of cornerstone academy - the christian home-schooling community where i spent 12 glorious years of my life. yes, i grew up in bubbles within bubbles. to those who think this must have been cruel, you misunderstand me. i liked being home-schooled. i liked growing up in the church. i wouldn't change any of it. when i'm honest, it's probably good, because i might have turned out to be a terror without such a morally strict community. with all this background, it's strange for me that i find myself so far away from where i once was. to some, it might seem natural, but to me, it's difficult.

i think the reason i haven't walked away from it all, however, is that, fundamentally, i believe in Jesus, what He said, and what He lived, died, and lived again for. my problem, i suppose, is all the small, unimportant characteristics of christianity today. church feels like it's so much about saying or doing or knowing the right thing, that it doesn't even feel sincere for me to participate. i sing the words, but they're simply words. i don't feel them resonate in my soul anymore. the jargon is probably what bothers me the most. things like: "God put it on my heart to..."
i've always hated phrases like that, because it makes anything that follows it irrefutable. if you told me God told you to do something, am i going to argue with you? me, argue against the very voice of God? and when i'm struggling with something - with a job, a relationship, school - i don't need to hear that it's because i'm not in communion enough with God, because i haven't gone to church, or because i don't pray enough. unfortunately, these are all cookie-cutter, classic aspects of christians today. they make me writhe with frustration, because people who struggle or who don't hold fast to that sort of faith in God cannot relate. i can't have a discussion with someone who hasn't found his or her place in the cosmic hugeness of God and tell that person that i heard God, that i know what God told me. i also feel silly making such assumptions. i believed God's will was a lot of things, and the majority of them have blown up in my face, revealing new purpose and direction in my life. so i've stopped feeling that in my heart, that i know that this is what God wants because His ways aren't mine. i tell others that some things make sense or that i believe everything happens for a reason and that God is intimately connected with my existence, but i don't claim to know what's going on. for all the bad/unexpected things that have happened in my life, i am grateful for their results, and i choose to abide by a good attitude and constant movement.

my problem lies with christian sub-culture rather than the faith itself. we separate ourselves with fences made of jargon, cross necklaces, and the gross blatancy that we disapprove of the vast stupidity of humans.

true, it seems counterproductive to assign such a cliche to something to which i align my life and even claim to be my salvation. and it's fair enough that postmodern culture is effective enough at this without my help. i would argue that the labels are unfair, but we often make ourselves easy targets. just browse websites like myspace or have a trivial conversation or two. we're easy to spot. our favorite books consist of the purpose-driven life and the bible, or maybe a little c.s. lewis if you're very lucky. it angers me to see "blue like jazz" as the "best book ever" and no mention of dickens or plath or flannery or tolstoy or chaucer or homer or austen. we just make it so easy, because we don't venture outside of the comfortable. we say "f-ing" when the whole world knows that what we really mean is "fucking." and of course, there's the constant talk of "praise the Lord," "grace," and true "love." yet the terms are so steeped in subcultural meanings that they have disintegrated into mere words, void of any genuine meaning or action. we speak of grace, but quickly shake our heads without listening or trying to understand. the world is full of black and white, but many people only feel the judgment, the lack of redemption, the inherent absence of His-ness in their relationships with christians.

i believe that, deep down, we are seeking righteousness. we do love others, but we present ourselves in all the wrong ways. we don't let them get too close, lest we be termed hypocrites. i've discovered in all the most painful ways that being wrong is not hypocritical if you can own up to it, if you can tell someone when they're wrong, yet admit your shortcomings as well. love God. follow Him whole-heartedly. know your faith. know that there is black and white, not just gray. seek His will, and actively pursue intimacy and purpose. but be still as well. find out what makes a person move, and they will want to know what moves you. and He, if He is real and if He is there, will pique their interest, will open them up to who He is and what it means to follow.

i pray sincerely, the way that i know how, the way that feels natural. separate yourself from the subculture, as tempting as it is. and be.




on a separate, though related, topic, i wanted to touch on another phenomena that i have observed about modern intellectual culture. these are the qualities of spirituality, non-commitment, and homogeneity. we claim that the world would be fine so long as people would seek inner peace or religion would separate itself from all other faculties - from education, politics, entertainment. what i don't understand is why, when we are so critical of religion, so detailed about how it contradicts itself, we are so vague about how we see purpose in our lives. it's as though a person can't possibly hope to live progressively if one has a religion or hasn't invented one's own spirituality - a spirituality which states that nobody's wrong and nobody's right. except maybe buddhism. but even buddhists are radical. they lock themselves up in monastaries, seeking enlightenment, because they are so convinced that their ways are right.

one of my best friends (my best friend?) is catholic. we talk about religion all the time, because we both ascribe to a set of beliefs. i am protestant because i believe luther was right, though i appreciate a lot about the catholic church. about commitment. about beauty and tradition. we talk about how uncool we are for picking a side. what people hate to admit is that committing to a side means that we think we're right and they're wrong. it must. it doesn't mean we don't respect those who choose otherwise, nor will we kill someone who contradicts us. but we will tell them that they're wrong. there is something wrong with a society that lives only by personal conviction - by only personal spirituality, which won't admit anyone is right or wrong. religion forces a series of pleasant and unpleasant tasks to each of us. it forces us to be outside of ourselves, to align ourselves and be responsible to more than simply what is inside our heads. to stand up or sit down. to surrender ourselves. to love others. because our faith in God and our adherence to His will commands that we do so. because we believe that such a commitment yields absolute truth.

in a world of radicalism, i find it ironic that we lack the motivation to be radical about the state of our souls or about truth. we pick sides all the time, but somehow lack the ability to do so in religion.



as i step into my future, i am slowly finding how much i pray for what augustine had. i pray for the conviction to cry out to God, to stick to God, to know God, to yield to God. i pray that God will humble me as he was humbled; i pray for a broken heart that finds its only solace in Him. i pray for the ability to say "yes, there is one God, only one way, and i know it. i surrender." i pray against mere personal philosophy, mere inner peace, mere spirituality. yet i also pray for his cynicism towards the concept that all must know Him the same way, for his inability to simply slip into what christianity appears to be rather than what it means. i pray for his sincerity, for his desire to know God because He is God, not because it's simply what christians do, what appears holiest. and i pray that my genuine commitment to a genuine faith is what motivates others towards God, not a mere attempt to adhere to goodness nor an ability to hide my shortcomings from others. i pray.

"...augustine, all his fears keep falling out
all this time, he's never been awake before
finding out all his dreams aren't panning out
all this time, he's never been awake before

but he's glad to be alive
and he's dying to be met
in the quiet desperation of the emptiness he said,
'there's got to be something more, than what i'm living for
i'm crying out to You

hey, i give it all away
nothing i was holding back remains
hey, i give it all away
looking for the grace of God today...'"
-switchfoot

dante had it easy

"so it goes."
or so the saying goes.

let's reflect on one of the circles of hell in my life.

today, about 8:30am at starbucks, our filtered water simply stopped working. this meant no coffee, no hot tea, and no espresso drinks, including no steamed milk, as all the machines that we use to make the drinks are directly connected to the filtered water system. we were, however, capable of the following: pastries, iced tea and iced tea lemonades at full strength, iced chai, iced coffee, and frappuccinos... at least until the ingredients ran out, as filtered water is required to make prep for them. as luck would have it, today was also national coffee break day, which meant that we were giving away free coffee from 10am to 12pm. with no coffee brewing capabilities. fuuuuun.

as a result, 2 hours of my day went something like this:
customer: i'd like a venti latte with nonf--...
me: (interrupting), i'm afraid we can't make lattes right now. there is a sign on the front door explaining that our filtered water system stopped working this morning, meaning that we can't make brewed coffee, though my partner is demoing some on the floor, and we can't use our espresso machines.
customer: so your espresso machine's not working?
me: no, it's working. it's just directly connected to the filtered water system, and there's no way around this fact. without filtered water, it can't produce espresso shots or steam milk.
customer: (annoyed) oh. so what can you make?
me: we can make iced chai, frappuccinos, iced tea, and iced coffee, because none of these require filtered water or steamed milk. if you want coffee, we're giving it away for free, and if none of those work, i can direct you to the nearest starbucks about a mile down the street.
customer: oh. so can you make me a caramel macchiato?
me: no, because the caramel macchiato requires espresso shots.
customer: oh, i see. what about a cappuccino?
me: no, because the cappuccino requires steamed milk.
customer: iced caramel macchiato?
me: no, because we can't make espresso.
customer: well... can you blend the caramel macchiato?
me: it would taste similar to the caramel frappuccino, and we can make those if you'd like. if not, we have free coffee behind you.
customer: okay, i'll take that.

*pounds head against wall. repeatedly.*

i like my job, but i'm tired of having a degree and having to deal with people of this sort all day long.

i was surprised by two things in today's saga of disheartening lessons about the human race. namely:
1. people refused free shit. okay, so maybe coffee isn't your favorite, or maybe you haven't tried it. it's free. i'd try it for that very reason, and if i didn't like it, that would be okay. no skin off my nose, because it didn't cost me anything!!
2. people really get upset if they have to vary from their usual routine. and also, they have no idea what goes into their drinks. so to those who think they're cool because they have a complicated drink: please shut up, because really you don't know anything. if you continue to ask for lattes and cafe au laits after i've explained to you that we have neither espresso-making capabilities nor milk-steaming abilities, you really don't know what constitutes the drink. in which case, just ask! i love talking about it; it's one of the few highlights of my dreary existence. we go through weeks of training and months of perfecting our skills (seriously, we're nerdy enough to argue about this and compete for title of most glorious foam... mine's pretty good, i'll have you know), and we'll gladly talk about it if you sincerely don't know what's in it. at least know the difference between a macchiato and a cappuccino... it's good to know.

my days living a latte-free existence during lent have truly given me an appreciation for black coffee and the doppio. and also, my next boyfriend needs to love coffee.

i struggle with forward motion

"don't count your chickens before they've hatched."
or so the saying goes.

it's finally happening. i think i'm finally crashing. the truth is, i thought i was too far beyond this for it to catch up with me. anybody who knows me will tell you that i'm a fighter, that i believe i am in control of my circumstances. life, love, happiness, and being okay are a choice, and i actively choose them all. i'm of the "it's not something you feel, it's something you do" school of thought. truthfully, i have not shed a single tear since september 30, 2006. i had somehow convinced myself that it was a competition; i needed to care even less than he seemed to care that day. and i resolved myself to feeling nothing, because it didn't deserve my attention. as badly as i knew it hurt, i was not going to let it affect me, and i was going to make it make me into a better person.

the funny thing is that i have realized that there are an infinite number of ways to not have to confront a situation. i kept telling myself that i'd face it eventually.
after my birthday.
after that paper.
after that presentation.
after school.
after christmas.
when the new year came.
when i was back in orange county.
after i was done saying goodbye to kyle.
when heather got back from london.
after las vegas.
when i heard from the jet program.
when school began for everyone.
after i'd paid the bills.
after thursday night... next week.
after the jet interview.
maybe after i hung out with some people.
after my date.

it destroyed me inside to hear the things he said, in the manner in which he said them, a week after i told myself that i could do this.

so i supposed that if i could just feel beautiful, act beautiful, want to be beautiful, have others confirm that i'm beautiful, then ultimately, truthfully, deep down, i would be fine. and i thought that this time, this time, i had done something right, because i was more okay than i had ever been. the reality of my situation is, however, that nobody escapes such a confrontation without being hurt. and my choice would be to get hurt in the beginning, or later on, painfully all at once, or let it stretch out.

even though i know that a part of me has crashed inside, i haven't let myself cry, because i feel that, in some small way, that means he wins, that he mattered more to me than i did to him. and it infuriates me to my very core. it's a relief to know that i'm okay and that i am, honestly, over it. i know it every time i have a conversation with another guy, i can feel it, because i never, ever let myself think about him with even the slightest affection when i'm talking to someone else. and i never want to go back.

my friend told me today that it's okay: we're allowed to be sad because that's just part of the whole painful process. it doesn't make me any weaker. and i suppose i've finally come to terms with this. i think that a part of me is simply annoyed, put off if you will, that this occupies any of my thoughts at any time of the day, that i'm wasting any energy on it.

mentally, i know that it hurt. mentally, i know i'm okay with being sad and letting it go in the process. but something wells up inside me every time that blocks it, that tells me no no no no you will not succumb to this, because your life is so much better now. look, it's made you into a better person, so why cry? maybe one day i will cry; cry because it's simply part of acceptance. then again, maybe i won't have to. maybe every day, it seems a little more absurd to do so. i haven't decided how i feel, other than that i'm simply surprised, and perhaps simply disappointed. that's okay, right? it's okay to feel that way, isn't it?

maybe i'm simply having a bad week. i suppose we all have those once in a while. a bad day or a bad shift or a bad drunken experience or a bad date or a bad phone call or a bad meal. on so many levels, i feel a little like there's something off about my life, but i can't identify what it is. i'm in transition, on so many levels, and maybe every so often, we grasp for normalcy, for a time when we thought something was dependable. i've believed since as long as life got a little more complicated than it used to be, however, that movement is important; that so long as i move, i am open to wherever He might want to move me. i want to stave off complacency, to be excited, and to know that i'm ready for whatever happens next. we all doubt; it's a part of the human experience. and it's been one of those weeks when i simply wanted to grasp for something or someone who knows exactly what it feels like to go from knowing and having specific purpose and motivation to complete self-reliance. so long as everyone else has school and tests, i'm not sure that they can know. i've wanted so badly to talk to someone to can confirm that it's supposed to be this confusing, to feel this awkward. he understands, but opening that door jeopardizes all my progress.

people say that there is no God or that He left us all to our own devices, but i can't believe that is true. stop trying so hard to answer these questions, because He always provides. stop answering them your own way, for He will give them in a better way. i am trying to have more faith in the answers he provides, especially in all ways i don't expect. today, i was drinking coffee, and evan, who i never see, sat down with me at starbucks and we talked about how it feels to be done with school. it was good to know, if even on the surface, that my feelings weren't unusual, that it was okay to be confused and to struggle with motivation. movement. seek, and you will not go unanswered. desire and ask, and you will be satisfied.

i dare you to move
i dare you to move
i dare you to lift yourself up off the floor
i dare you to move
i dare you to move
like today never happened before

it's so difficult, when you just want to lie down and say "this will pass, it always does." and i believe it does, but it's not how i operate. but movement, saying "i'm ready to be better and i'm ready to do what i know is right, just please please answer me..." God has always answered me. and the desire to know in my own way dissipates.

sunshine, i'd really like to tell you are my sunshine

"save yo' drama for yo' mama."
or so the saying goes.

i haven't had anything to say in a while, and i've concluded that this is probably because i've been content. i read over a few of my blog entries over the past two years, and i realized how much time i've spent whining about my life. i still maintain that a lot of my last two years of college encompassed the hardest things i've ever had to do. but reading over those entries reminded me of how profoundly frustrated i was, and how happy i am to finally be on the other side.

perhaps i've grown up a lot, or i've learned to disconnect myself from circumstances beyond my control. or maybe, though i hope it isn't true, i'm just apathetic. a lot of what i've written about over the past few years has embodied my frustration with my inability to affect others' decisions, and especially my inability to change how they look at me. as a kid, i always listened to dr. laura, and now i'm beginning to see some truth to what she says; you can't control other people, just yourself. i pounded the ground for nearly a year because, no matter how hard i tried, i could not make my relationships work. for one reason or another, he was unhappy or disinterested. i'd bend over backwards to make him happy, but it didn't work. slowly, my self-worth dwindled to only being how good i was from another person's point of view. in most aspects of my life, hard work produces results, and i couldn't understand why this wouldn't work the same way. so i complained, all the while attempting to simply. be. okay.

perhaps i needed a year to realize that i don't believe that i'm made for anyone. it's not a result of cynicism, nor is this indicative of my feminist ideals. it's a combination of knowing that i'm made for One and One alone, and also realizing that two people are only as made for each other as they truly, deeply want to be. none of those failures represent anything about my worth, nor about how happy or unhappy i should be, and i'm only sorry that i complained so much about things i couldn't control in the first place. change is never easy, and i suppose it's simply been the painful process of tearing these ideas away from myself, ideas that had become so embedded that it felt like i was digging out parts of my very flesh to let them go.

never in my life have i been so content to be myself and with my friends and still so comfortable with letting things go. there's been so much grasping and grappling in the past, and it's a relief, a huge, deep, complete sigh i feel in my soul when i outwardly shrug. i don't look forward to any white gown or romantic fantasy because, whether or not it's even in my future is unimportant and not at all what i'm looking forward to. i look forward to nothing, because this concept of completion was never mine in the first place. i am complete, wanting nothing, and i acknowledged this the moment i knelt at the cross. every day, every breath, every step, every moment is a gift in the most generous form, not something to which i could ever entitle myself. i think that if i look to my future as a gift rather than an expectation, i will yield more gratefulness and compassion, and will be, in the most profound sense, complete and satisfied.

on God, control, and the laborious process of moving on

"when one door closes, another one opens."
or so the saying goes.

"There was utter silence all around me. And now for the first time I knew what I had been doing. While I was reading, it had, once and again, seemed strange to me that the reading took so long; for the book was a small one. Now I knew that I had been reading it over and over – perhaps a dozen times. I would have read it forever, quick as I could, starting the first word again almost before the last was out of my mouth, if the judge had not stopped me. And the voice I read it in was strange to my ears. There was given to me a certainty that this, at last, was my real voice."
-c.s. lewis, till we have faces

i love this part of the story. for those who don't know, i wrote my senior thesis on it. it seemed appropriate, since i first read it in 8th grade and my understanding of the world has changed considerably since then.

i suppose i identify with orual. she's reading her complaints about the various injustices of her life to the gods, and she realizes that it never mattered that the world was unjust to her. somehow, she came in with a sense of entitlement. it's at this moment in the book that she sees her true self. that all her complaints never mattered to begin with. she keeps insisting that it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, but she doesn't move on until she realizes that what's fair and unfair to her is insignificant. how she reacts is. nobody will ever find it fair. acceptance of one's inability to change this or to change other people is significant.

a few weeks ago, i received an email. i didn't expect it and i still don't know how to respond to it, or even if i can respond to it. i think that when i'm honest with myself, it makes me a bit angry. it wasn't an apology or anything. perhaps it was just an attempt to move on, or to prove a point to me. but it came out of the bluest of blue depths. 4 months and no words after the fact.

when that obnoxious day that has burnt itself in the depths of my brain came last fall, i resorted to all the usual feelings. it's not fair, i didn't deserve it, i can't believe it, i thought it would be different this time, why is this happening to me. all the same questions, all over again. and i suppose it is fair that he told me that he wasn't happy before we went any further, but i do know that i didn't deserve it; i think most would agree that i deserved better.

they say that you can't control other people, just how your respond to them.

i've learned a great deal about this statement. it occurred to me that it didn't really matter what was and wasn't fair. it is what it is. i believe in a just God. and i believe in a faithful God. just because i wanted it to be different or better doesn't mean that He has to make it that way. He gives and takes away, according to His will, whether or not i find it fair. who am i to decide fair?

of my break-ups, this one has been the most liberating. orual stopped complaining when she realized that she couldn't control everything. i finally realized that beating the ground was also accepting defeat, and that constantly repeating to myself that it was so so so unfair was only driving me mad. fair or unfair, i had to change my approach. so i did, and it was difficult and painful and all the rest. but moving on has come far more naturally this time around. and the constant need to be with someone has begun to dissipate. for the first time since i was 16, i can honestly say that i'm okay with this, that i might actually prefer this.

as much as i love my faith, the church bothers me because all my years of growing up have instilled in me that i'm somehow incomplete until i find someone to fill the void. like marriage will be my miracle drug, and that when i meet him, i'll know. like i'm searching the world for the missing pieces of myself. since last september, this concept has perplexed me. why am i looking so hard, and why do i feel compelled to think of that as the beginning of my life. am i ignorant or just somebody that was meant to be alone? i like to think that my heart burns too much for relationship for this to be the case, but my attitude towards relationships is cynical at best. i'm so jaded by the supreme laziness i've experienced.

fair or unfair, right or wrong, things have changed. i'm of the opinion and joy is a choice we all make. i can run around asking why or i can accept that what is, simply is, and choose to let go. everything happens for a reason, and i've given up trying to understand why or why not. i'm only as stuck as i choose to be. life requires proactivity. in the spirit of joy and choosing it, i am grateful that all this has happened. it surprises me sometimes that this process has revealed so many anti-me characteristics. i'm more guarded, and i find that i care less. not so much that i would use another person, but enough that i can say done is done is done is done, and forget it. i don't like not caring, but i do like not getting hurt anymore. You have a purpose. damned if i know what it is, but i'm choosing to not look too hard for it. i'm sure it will be, in the most cosmic sense, more fair than any way i could envision it.

my body... the new currency?

"one man's trash is another man's treasure."
or so the saying goes.

last thursday, i was privileged to spend an enjoyable, memorable, and i dare say legendary weekend in las vegas with some good friends. despite the inconvenient truth that my financial situation can only be described as dismal, i went anyway, hoping that i'd be able to afford everything if i'm extra-conscious of my spending habits and expenses. i then thanked God that i own a credit card to get me by until my next few paychecks come in and the bills slow down a bit. ironically, i lost said credit card in a nightclub while i was dancing, and was told that i would get another one in about 10 business days. whoopsy-daisy. to my credit, despite my stupidity, i did have the presence of mind to cancel it even though i could barely remember where i lived at the time. i suppose identity theft and impending credit doom has an uncanny ability to sober a person up. and because of all my experiences with credit cards and disappearing personal effects in london, i am now a pro at this damage control thing.

to my pleasant surprise, however, and despite the unfortunate loss of my hallowed platinum card, i left vegas having spent less than $150 on my entire weekend, including food, hotel, gasoline, and entertainment.

in truth, this seems almost impossible, since i was there two nights and visited approximately four nightclubs. i realized that this is because i didn't have to pay to get into any of the clubs, much less for any alcohol i drank once i got there. upon discussing this with my fellow travelers, i understood that this is because we are all physically appealing, so nightclubs are eager to let us in for free. the general concept is that, if they let us in, or girls like us in, men who pay for entrance will spend money on us. ergo, even though we're not paying a cover charge, the casino is still making money because men are spending it on us. and i realized, for the first time in a while, that, essentially, i was trading my looks for free alcohol and entertainment.

on its most basic level, isn't this what post-feminist culture has been fighting for the whole time? the right to look and feel great and have it confirmed? to be fair, in the nightclub, everyone wins: the club makes money, we get free entertainment, and the guys who may or may not have anything to offer get a chance to meet pretty girls. as a feminist, despite the liberation that comes with understanding my feminine appeal, and of course the basic human instinct that free shit is inherently good, it bothers me somewhere in the recesses of my mind that i traded my looks for my vacation. as feminists, we chant the common mantra that we're equal to men. we're independent. we don't need them any more than they need us. and we admit that there is something empowering about being able to command a guy's attention.

i suppose my qualms lie with my realization that my looks can be so easily converted into a currency. that it's like a variation of prostitution that i'm employing to get what i want. it is this aspect of feminism that often confuses me. we fight so hard for men to view us as equals, as strong people, as individuals and not sex objects. yet we have no trouble being "traded" and "sold" for a vacation. the lines become so blurry sometimes that it's difficult to find where the boundaries lie, where our principles stand. we would all agree that sexual harrassment is wrong in a professional environment, or in any environment where it's not invited. but the invitations become so ambiguous. there's a rather large gap between completely ignoring the opposite sex and actually forcing intercourse upon them. we want to take a chance, to test the boundaries, but the discrepancy in our actions is striking.

does the environment make everything completely different? does it all depend on what our agenda is, because if equality is what we want, shouldn't a man's agenda be just as relevant to the boundaries as ours? why does our word trump his -- isn't that unequal? are we making up for the years and years of patriarchy? our own form of affirmative action?

furthermore, if we are to claim that we, as women, ought to be honored and respected, shouldn't appearance be irrelevant? shouldn't we be fighting for women everywhere, claiming that beauty is about so much more than the surface? or is that something we do on a daily basis - just not in a place like vegas?

we constantly blame men for breaking the rules, but it's pretty clear that we set them, and that we're capable of many completely different sets of rules, sometimes even in the same day. perhaps it is all just situational. some things have to be, after all. but what we want seems to fluctuate so much that it seems unreasonable, if not completely irrational to come down so hard on guys, labeling them a certain way because they don't always understand what's going on. some do, and they are wrong in the way they look at us. but what is it, exactly, that drives a person like me who wants so desperately to be viewed as independent, strong, professional, and intelligent, to outright exploitation of my looks and sexuality for what i want.

de blogging

"old is the new new."
or so the saying goes.

confession: i have a problem with blogging. i know people who have gotten into trouble doing this; relationships have fallen apart. people have a tendency to get far too personal, and there is no reason for it. i don't want to know the minute details of your existence - and i probably shouldn't if i don't know you very well. i strive to write provocatively and transparently, but without getting into the minute details of my life.

in my lifetime, i have kept probably 2 or 3 blogs consistently. livejournal captured the hopeless drama of high school. and xanga, oh my dear xanga, was with me throughout the last two years of high school and all the way through college. the truth is, i would never delete them, because i enjoy going back and seeing how my life has developed. it is such a refreshing reminder that i am, indeed, growing up and learning from my mistakes, as well as a great catalog of God's abundant faithfulness in my life. it's been my mantra since freshman year at chapman that God is, above all, faithful. despite myself. and despite my objections to the online world, i'm beginning this blog. and as is painfully obvious, all this seems hypocritical. but just try to think of my blogging experience as an environmentalist that still drives a car. they realize that what they do seems contradictory, so they attempt to compensate by driving an energy-efficient, low-emissions vehicle. so what is this all about? i believe that deeply personal things should be recorded in personal journals, not online. so why not keep a journal? why go through this exercise? and why switch when i still have my beloved xanga and myspace?

i'll have you all know that i do keep a personal, hold-it-in-your-hands journal, and have since i was seven years old. it's stuffed full of my musings, as well as letters and cards given to me over the years. and really, it holds all the stuff that i don't want you, my online readers, to know about me: things i think about, do, or feel. if you're friends with me, you probably already know some of these things, but why would i put it out there for strangers to find?

i'm switching because college is over, and it's time for a change. that part's not complicated.

curtailing the reason for switching is also my purpose. this is going to contain very little about what i say or do and far more about my opinions or musings on various topics. i have to write. in an average day, dozens of things occur to me, and my hand twitches with the need to put them on paper. the simple thought "that's peculiar" is enough to initiate a dissertation.

why not keep it to myself? the reason why seems absurd, but it's true: i write much better and much more consistently if i know there's a possibility that others will read it. yes, i love to write for myself, but there's no tension in doing so. my reasoning is not being challenged, because i know what i mean. blogging forces me to be complete.

so. welcome.