election woes.

i think 2008 might actually give me an ulcer.



i've always hated talking about politics, because i hate what it brings out in people.


also, i just might explode all over the next person who generalizes my faith and/or followers of Christ.

tag-action

the bigger mystery is whether or not you're going to believe this stuff.
1. i was run over by a truck and lived to tell about it.
2. i climbed an active volcano in indonesia, and almost froze to death in the process. in the summer. also, i couldn't move for a day afterward.
3. i once gave a speech at a kmt rally in taiwan. in chinese. sort of. plus, i met the guy that later became the president, who probably spoke english better than me. it was not a day of personal greatness.
4. i am uncommonly good at remembering quotes and conversations, especially things i hear on television. i have to restrain myself, because i'm pretty sure i have the capacity to creep people out.
5. i keep realizing that i have now been single for over 2 years. on a very technical, label-dependent level, anyway.
i really don't want to talk about it.
6. i've always thought i had an addiction to pasta, but lately i'm starting to believe it's actually tomatoes. for serious. i eat some form of tomato every day, sometimes more than once, and would probably eat more if i could.
7. 108 hours is the longest i've gone without a shower. this was not so much a choice as it was forced upon me by the russian rail network. and p.s. there is no good way to appear even moderately hygienic after 108 hours on the trans-siberian.

aaron and kirsten choate, nicole, sarah, edward, dano, and myers, you're up. everybody else has already been tagged elsewhere.

HAHA

i guess i'd be lying if i said it didn't cheer me up.
http://office-words.www.nbc.com/

when life gets you down...

focus on the positive.

for those who don't know, life has been quite the downer these days. being at home sucks the life out of me, mostly because of one particular person, who shall remain nameless. that would be one thing, except that work is almost painful these days. i should probably stress that it's not because i inherently hate my job, but because any flicker of positive morale or energy is immediately squelched by laziness, drama, and the desire to stay in high school. i spent at least my last 3 semesters of high school wishing it would go away, and now it's come back with a vengeance. this is then compounded by the fact that some of my closest friends are (or will be) in places like london and boston, or by the painful process of extracting others from my life. the unexpected side effect of that one is my acute ability to qualify most guys i meet as liars, no matter how nice they are. i'm still waiting on the Lord for that healing. it'll come, but right now it's still open and bleeding profusely.

i think, though, that sometimes we focus primarily on how awful we feel, and not on all the positive things we have. there are days, weeks, months, that i feel like my Father doesn't hear me, but i find that it's mostly because i'm not listening to Him speak. even when i'm feeling hopeless, i also find something to bring me pleasure or to make me laugh. the fact is, there is way too much suffering in the world to be caught up in how dissatisfied i am with my life. so i told myself that today, i will focus on the things that i enjoy, no matter how small they are. right now, i am in a place where i'm so comfortable that it's easy for me to forget the beauty of existence, and the buoyancy of the human spirit. few people are this lucky.

and despite how frustrated i've been, i've found that the list of things which make me happy is considerable. and that's not even including the people i love, just objects and what they represent. for those who think this is all about materialism, it's not... it's about being appreciative and joyful because we're given so much to be appreciative and joyful about. even these small pieces of joy are enough to lighten this heavy heart, if just for today. and that's okay, because today is all i was ever promised anyway.

rantings of a disgruntled coffee hero.

friends, countrymen, gracious patrons of the man, lend me your ears.

as most know, i work for a certain coffee company, and have been on and off for a few years. while most things haven't changed, one startling change this time around has been the severe discrepancy in customer attitude between my prior location and here. surprisingly, i find this demographic to be significantly more obnoxious than that of orange county, and would like to comment on-slash-berate the people who enjoy unceremoniously tarnishing my existence on a regular basis. thanks to you, i have once again begun to lose all faith in human decency. well done.

and since i can't do it at work, i'll do it here. to my friends and visitors who are also patrons of this coffee house, please, for the sake of others in my position, if any of what i say applies to you... heed my words, turn from your idiocy, and repent of your ways!

let me first say that i've got to hand it to you, riverside county; you guys win the prize for cheapest bastards in the world... yes, the world... because i've visited all over the world, and i've never seen people as stingy as you. never before have i experienced so much resentment over you having to pay for the crap you buy. i've been condescended to, whined at, and complained about over making you pay for what you've just ordered. i don't know why, but you seem to think that my store is a garage sale, and bartering is allowed. does the menu, or does it not say, specifically, how much you will have to pay for that particular product? yes, i believe it does. i want to know... do you argue with people over the price when you go to a restaurant? how about a salon? the grocery store? wal-mart? no, of course you don't, because that would be idiotic, wouldn't it? if you didn't want to buy that product at any of these given establishments, you wouldn't. why do the rules suddenly change when you order from me, then? i'm just charging you because you had to buy half-and-half instead of just sticking with the standard milk, and you needed that extra shot of decaf espresso just so that you could spend extra money and not have it affect your system... because that makes sense. it's a business, not a charity, and if you can't afford it, stick with a more standard order, don't add extras, or just don't come at all! but don't yell at me over 40cents because you couldn't just go with the standard. we charge extra because it costs extra, and because of the extra 2 minutes it takes to prepare that stuff... and for interrupting our flow. besides, it's not like i get that money. or like i decided to provoke you because i could.

now, the following is some advice for a patron of any geographical persuasion. if people do not change these things, somebody's head will explode, and it will be your fault. do you really want that kind of guilt? i didn't think so.
1. seriously, what's with the extra shots of decaf? if you're claiming that it's the taste, that's a fallacy, because the whole process of decaffeinating coffee significantly diminishes the flavor. and surely, you don't expect me to believe that you can actually taste that shot beneath those layers of gluten and lactose. half-decaf on a medium, i can understand (since you get that shot anyway), or even plain decaf of any size, but extras? just empty your wallet into our tip jar, i'll wave my hand mystically over your cup and maybe even throw in an incantation, and we'll call it even.
2. ordering something light with extra whipped cream and/or extra caramel and in large just makes me want to give you the full-fat version anyway. not that i do. but really, you think you're saving calories? besides disgusting me, you're deluding yourself into thinking you're sticking to your diet, and just begging for serious health problems in the future. better make that private insurance work, huh?
3. we have mint flavor all year long, dumbass. so spare me your excitement over our sudden reintroduction of putting it into hot chocolate, mocha, or just plain coffee, because it was sitting there way back in april, too. do we really need to move words around on the menu to make that clear?
4. i remember from back when people liked dane cook, he did this bit on how the need for ketchup in a fast food restaurant suddenly makes you more important than everybody else. you bypass all propriety for it. i would venture to say, however, that the insatiable need for free water is far worse. somehow, with 15 people in line, an endless stream of cups, shots and milk being pulled and poured in all directions and two blenders going, people don't get the message that, no, my co-worker and i, who are already running frantically to fill all these orders, don't have time to get you a free cup of water. go stand in line and order it. or just don't forget it the first time you ordered your drink. but i don't care how nicely you tell me that i can get it "whenever i have a sec." the caffeine-deprived people come first. you already got your drink. forgetting the rest of your order does not put you in front of the line.
5. really? you wanted that drink iced, even though you watched me write it on a hot cup, stood there while i steamed the milk, and waited while i fetched more hot lids, even though you're the only person in line. if you think you've found an original, clever way to get a free drink, you're sorely mistaken. and what a coincidence! you're going to meet a friend right now who will take it! it must be your lucky day. please, i see right through that, and it's been done many times before you, honey. now you can hand that back so i can dump it down the drain while i make you the "correct" drink. and if it's not a ploy, could you pay attention to your order for a second or two?
6. wow, you just let your kids get more of that pastry on the ground than in their mouths. next time, could we not order the flaky scone for them? might i suggest a bagel? or nothing?
7. also, please don't send them in to get free water unless you instruct them to stand in line, say thank you, not jump on the furniture, and use their inside voices. a small tip would be a nice gesture, too, since you did send three of your darlings.
8. no need to talk down. most of us have degrees, or at the very least operate at an average i.q. level.
9. standing in front of other people in line, smack in the middle of your order is not, i repeat, is not a good time to call your friend and ask what they want. do it before. or just don't, because your whole being in high school, clutching your designer bag, and talking on your blackberry is kinda pissing me off anyway.
10. don't tell me to rebrew the coffee when it's still good. you can't tell the difference anyway. no, really, you can't.

read. heed. adjust.


but to the connoisseurs of straight coffee, espresso, glorious foam, soy milk, chai tea, pure tea, and the 2x shot, i salute you.

i want to clamp michael's face in a george foreman grill.

after today, i'm wondering if grills come in full body size.

to quote hunter s. thompson: some people get rich and others eat shit and die.

sometimes, don't i wish.

lord, beer me self-control.

my name is joy, and today i spent way too much money at anthropologie.

huh?

you know what's a deceivingly large country?
thailand.

i love how every birthday has a song.

or at least it has for the past 3 birthdays.


this year's musical selection is brought to you by stephen christian... or anberlin, if you prefer... and their song "alexithymia":
Are you where you thought you'd be
So beautiful and only twenty-three...




thoughts? comments?
this year, in lieu of my usual reflection on how things have changed, i don't think i'm going to offer any sort of complaint or musing on whether or not i'd planned all this. i'm not going to mull over my original wishes, or even qualify the significance of my choices.

the truth is that i've wanted to be here for a long while now. so really, i've no complaints. and i don't want to dwell on how or why my thoughts were realigned, or even how different my life would have been otherwise. despite how much time i spent complaining before, i'm so grateful, and so happy with what You've done with me. the most i can hope for at present is the strength to keep moving. because i do know that the more i do, the more my future and purpose will make sense to me.


if there's anything to dwell on this birthday, it's that i'm beautiful, and even better... only 23.
p.s. i am completely amazed by justin's card. right now, i'd venture to say that he loves the office even more than me. and i really love the office.

i just got

jay chou's secret in the mail today. how excited am i to share its amazingness with the world around me?

there are no words.

as a preview:


or: http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=cbSeZh6apVk

also, this isn't ashlee simpson status... he really is that bona-fide awesome. he's some sort of taiwanese musical prodigy, apparently.

90% boxer. 10% evil.

plus, i was playing with my new camera.

the un-prodigal child(ren)

show of hands: who remembers the story about the prodigal son? i've heard it what feels like a gazillion times. even though gazillion isn't a real number. it's a beautiful depiction of God's love for us, about being lost and then found, amazing grace, etc. etc. etc.

as of late, my mom has described her feelings towards my brother as the father's from that story. even though the son walked away and fell apart, the father still waited for him. he still wanted his son back. she told me that, unless you're a parent, there's really no way to compare a connection like that. she explained that, in parenthood, all bets are off - you would do anything for them. and of course, the father rejoiced when he got his son back.

since i don't have a child, i don't know that i can relate. and since i haven't deserted my family, i can't relate to the prodigal son either. the person i've always understood on some level, however, is the faithful son. which probably shouldn't be the case, because he's not the point of the story. also, i'm pretty sure Jesus wanted us to know that we are all, on some level, prodigal sons. still, i couldn't help but feel that he was justified in his resentment of his brother. here he was, the faithful son, watching his brother who'd screwed up and made a big mess of his life and his father's life, receive the full inheritance back. i fully sympathize with his anger. he, the faithful son, had stayed behind to work and make something of himself. he, the faithful son, hadn't broken his father's heart. he, the faithful son, had treasured his inheritance and lived a life worthy of it. in addition, which isn't mentioned in the story, but he, the faithful son, had probably spent a good amount of his life piecing his father's heart back together. he'd probably try to show his father that there wasn't a need to be shattered, that one of his children wanted to please and honor him. and then his brother, who he had seen hurt his father so, came back and it was as if he'd never left. in fact, they even threw him a party!

i think that, at times, my parents wish that my brothers and i would show a little more compassion towards the one. that our first desire wouldn't be to slap his face off. i've tried, and i think my brothers have tried as well, but that compassion has become hard to find these days. really.

so in the midst of our discussion, we revisited that story. i said that we've run out of compassion in the same way that the faithful son had. that we strive to honor and obey, and that, in the deepest regions of ourselves, we can't understand why our parents are broken. we all know that, should anything happen to us, our parents would feel just the same, but it's difficult to watch what our sibling does to them and still try to find that same compassion. we wonder, as the son probably wondered, what gives our sibling the right? our parents loved us all the same, gave us all the same things, and treated us the same. so why does this one feel that he should have the right, the ability, the gall, to act the way he does? why should his meager (and sometimes downright pathetic) excuses for faithfulness be rewarded - rejoiced over, and ours accepted or assumed?

i suppose that we, like the son, rest in the knowledge that we're loved and rejoiced over the same, though it manifests itself in different ways. that perhaps, what the prodigal son didn't have, we still have, though it might be difficult to identify or even accept these things. and perhaps, just perhaps, the difference in all this is that the prodigal son displayed humility, something that the rest of us have yet to see.

all the same, it doesn't make it any less difficult for us, the un-prodigal, to understand our brother(s). that son wasn't greedy or even wrong. he might have just wanted to remind his father that, while the other one was doing the destroying, it wasn't easy or enjoyable to pick up the pieces.

an interesting thing happened to me at birth choice today.

prague, cz 2009-2010 ((romania, hungary, bulgaria, croatia))
world cup, south africa, summer 2010

and now. uganda, fall 2010??

could be.

when i was a baby, my parents used to pray for things like uganda.
i'm thinking that might be why the stability mechanism is broken.

the reason why we bought the bracelets.

"dwight, did i ever tell you why i left scranton? yeah, i didn't think i did. well, it was all about pam. yeah, i mean, she was with roy, and... i just couldn't take it. i mean, i lost it, dwight. i couldn't sleep. i couldn't concentrate on anything. and weird stuff like food had no taste. so my solution was to move away. it was awful. and it is something i wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. and that includes you."
-jim, the office



i'm all out of words, and i'm all out of tears. i'm done with forgiveness, shaking it off, moving on, and i'm even more done with blaming myself for how much it hurts. my only thought is... why delude ourselves with friendship, when being strangers is just as effective, and doesn't waste my time?

half-truths. omissions. white lies. sparing my feelings. it's all a nice way of saying the same terrible thing.

the ironic thing is that i'd actually felt bad for all the things i'd said that one time. i'd even considered myself unfair, thought maybe it was an overreaction. surely you remember, my epic meltdown. but looking back, i was spot-on, and then some. every word was well-deserved, and probably far kinder and more loving than it should have been.

i've considered the ways to articulate, or express, just how angry i am. with you, with me, and especially with the absence of any sort of apology. i'm angry about what was said and done, but even more so about how humiliated i was when i finally got the truth. that all my defenses crumbled, my foolishness was laid clearly before me. it had to come full circle, trickling down to me, as i stood beside you. i'm a failure, a liar, a wreck, a contradiction, on so many levels, but at least i told you who i was.

have you any idea how many people tried to tell me that you and i were mere manipulation? and how many times i said, with conviction, no, you don't understand. despite the insufferable flow from their mouth, they always tell me the truth, listen to me when i tell them to stop, confide in me and i in them, and support me when i really, truly need the help. despite all the things you see or in the case of most, don't see, they would never intentionally hurt me or lie to me.

i was so convinced, and it makes me want to crawl into a hole, or just stop trying with anyone, to learn that those people knew more than i did, despite my vehement defense. this is further compounded by the fact that you haven't apologized, for this or anything else. i have long pondered our philosophies on life; humility and confidence, honesty and reservation, how one finds validation. and while my route isn't the easiest, i'll take how i feel any day over making someone else feel this way.




as far as my future, please, i'm not that desperate.

my best friend.

and me too.

(p.s. the bracelets really say "don't settle for less" but it was between "settle" and my shot that says "for less." so pretty much i had to decide whether i wanted to represent us as having low standards or as prostitutes. low standards, it was. hah.)

why me.

today, i discovered a ladies home journal positioned very oddly in our powder room. right next to the sink. but the funny thing is that when i tried to move it, i discovered that it was stuck to the tile. i then saw that the adhesive was a white substance that looked a lot like milk or soap, and then some flakes of cereal. yes, flakes of honey bunches of oats. i quickly confronted my brother about eating (and spilling) his cereal in the bathroom. and not just that. why, after spilling it everywhere, he seemed to think simply covering it with a magazine was a perfectly sufficient way to clean it up. why does someone eat cereal in the bathroom? i wish i could tell you. i ask myself the same question.

at which point, he denied any knowledge of the cereal. i promptly labeled him as a liar, since i'd just seen him eating a bowl of cereal, i've seen him eat it in the bathroom before, there were unmistakable flakes all over, and... plus, he lies all the time. lying all the time equals liar. i told him to clean it up, and he told me what he thought of me, per the usual tradition these days. and clean it up, he did, with a dry paper towel, which was, essentially, no help at all. i discovered this later, and ended up cleaning the dried sugar myself. wow, i was under the impression that i was living with a 17 year-old. i'm pretty sure my 3 year-old kids in taiwan were even capable of cleaning something like that up. or just not eating cereal in the bathroom.

i suppose things would be different if every day weren't another version of the same thing.



the sound you are now hearing is miniature segments of my brain exploding.

just let go.

there's an old oak tree
we can swing and sway
we'll lock arms and legs, you're so far away
when i look at you, you're so far away
i'm so far away
if you could just let go
-mae


(i really, really, really love mae and i can't stop listening to this song. for realsies.)

home.

right now, the whole "home" concept is not what i thought it would be. nothing i've ever experienced before, either. but things rarely turn out the way you wish they would or expect them to.

so i suppose it's helpful that jon foreman's "i am still running" came on just when i needed to hear it.
build me a home, inside your scars
build me a home, inside your song
build me a home, inside your open arms
the only place i ever will belong

and as much as i've learned about this over the years, about how You provide home when i need it, i think i need to know this more than ever these days. i'm done with speaking and i'm done with arguing. i'm even done with searching for sympathy in the deepest regions of myself.

and i'm asking You, my Father, please don't forget me now. i need a home.

proud to be an american.

where working, tax-paying citizens can't get health care.
can you? because 22, working, mostly able-bodied, and as "citizen" as they come, i sure can't.

it's all wearing so very thin right now.

i keep trying to tell myself i'm not angry, but i so am.

still lazy, and still lame. i keep wanting to believe that maybe i expect too much, but i don't. i really, really don't. why am i so bad at being angry? i could understand it if it didn't bother me anymore, but it does. and i could understand it if i had a poor reason to be, but i don't. or even if it didn't hurt that much, but it does. no matter how many times i've tried to find a loophole in this whole being angry thing, i can't.

which, of course, isn't about just one thing, but about many things, some related and some not, which simply make me tired, angry, and consequently determined.

truly, i was excited to be back, and i like america okay, but i'm realizing how foolish it was to believe that there was anything to be anxious about here. absence makes the heart grow fonder, but it also makes you forget all the important stuff that drove you away in the first place.

and why all the same problems, re-disguised as something far more interesting or forgivable, aren't okay anymore.

prague is in january. and at last i will be away, relieved, past... whatever you call it. because i just can't stand it.
again.