Standard Music Meme.

1. SOMEONE SAYS "ARE YOU OKAY" YOU SAY?
AniDiFrancoSubdivision

2. HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOURSELF?
JeffreeStarCupcakesTasteLikeViolence

3. WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
BronwenExterShe'sNotInLoveShe'sInPain

4. HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
ButterflyBoucherCanYouSeeTheLights?

5. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
KateNashI'mNotGonnaTeachYourBoyfriendHowToDanceWithYou

6. WHAT'S YOUR MOTTO?
SiouxsieandtheBansheesDazzle[Glamour Mix]

7. WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
ReginaSpektorBetter

8. WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
DamoneOuttaMyWay

9. WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
FionaAppleUseMe

10. WHAT IS 2 + 2?
GymClassHeroesSimpleLiving

11. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
CherryFilterLuckyShadow

12. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
CSSAlala

13. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
AqualungStrangeAndBeautiful

14. WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
ArtInManilaIThoughtIWasFree

15. WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
SugarcubesFuckingInRhythmAndSorrow

16. WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
RiloKileySpectacularViews/AndThat'sHowIChooseToRememberIt

17. WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
AceofBaseLivingInDanger

18. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST FEAR?
HelloSaferideXTellingMeAboutTheLossOfSomethingDear,AtAge16

19. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET IN LIFE?
JakalopeFeelIt

20. WHAT DO YOU WANT RIGHT NOW?
TheAcademyIs...Absolution

21. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
TheHushSoundADarkCongregation

22. WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET?
SiouxsieandtheBansheesSpellbound[12"Version]

23. HOW WILL YOU DIE?
TheDandyWarholsGodless

24. IF YOU COULD GO BACK AND CHANGE ONE THING, WHAT WOULD IT BE
TenSugarCharlieIShouldn'tLove

25. WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
PatrickWolfTheGypsyKing

So... it's been a while. I really need to make up my mind about this thing. Anyway - this is an attempt to give it one more shot.

Especially if I can finally get a digital camera. Which, coincidentally, I know I will be getting for Christmas. Surprises are not my family's thing, apparently. BUT - this raises a very important question...: what does one name a ruddy champagne colored camera of joy?! I must pore over some classical tragedy for inspiration.

Anyway, the main reason for coming to this tidy piece of cyberspace today is to remark on the wonders of making bread! I found a darling Cinnamon Raisin No-Knead recipe. Unfortunately the recipe called for an unfortunate amount of water, and so my deliberately light mixing of the dough [and the intended consequential swirls of cinnamon in the loaf] was all for naught, as I had to throw in a couple handfuls of flour anyway, and re-mix the entire thing.

After letting it sit for 18 hours, I got the pizza stone heating and threw the dough onto a well-floured counter - only to discover it was still too mushy! Nothing a liberal amount of acrobatics and a bit of flour couldn't fix, fortunately, and I managed to keep all the dough on the counter! :) Yay.

So my favorite part of the evening was when the smoke alarm started going off, because apparently somebody did something horrible to my pizza stone. I don't know if somebody used oil, washed it with soap, or what, but it started bubbling and smoking and is pretty much ruined. I felt my stomach drop in dismay. Two loaves of uncooked bread doing a final rising, and nothing to cook them in!? Fortunately I possess the world's most darling grandmother in the world, and in the depths of a cupboard I discovered a brilliantly red 7 1/4 quart Le Creuset. If there is a god, he chose this moment to bless me.

Saved, I used two different methods of cooking [one was left uncovered, one cooked covered, with the lid removed for browning for the last few minutes] so as to determine which is most fruitful, and have been positively tickled with the results. I've only broken into one loaf, but so far it's perfectly divine. For dessert, sugar on buttered bread. Breakfast will be toast, possibly sugared as well. I only hope I have the foresight to wake up early enough to make myself some french toast sometime this week.

Cooking, it seems, suits me.

Also, things are kind of iffy with the boy, and it makes me sad inside.

 I always attach hopes onto the tiniest things. I am not sure why.

Being home has been stressful for me. Mom and I chafe when in close quarters, Jenn is now past-due with the baby so everybody's on edge, and tomorrow I am going to see my dying grandfather for presumably the last time.

So there are a few tiny tiny things that I have clung to in order to stay sane. One of those was seeing Julie&Julia with Boy when I got back to Maryland. He called tonight, and as we talked he told me he was getting back from the movies. You have one guess as to which one. He went to see it with a few friends.

My life has always been this way. I am upset at the situation. Not at him. He has done nothing wrong. Yes, when we saw (500) Days of Summer together and saw the preview for it and I told him how much I wanted to see it and he said it looked okay and we agreed we would go back to the same theatre [artsy one in silver spring, nationally recognized and everything] and see it together, it was sort of like an agreement. No, him seeing it without me isn't the end of the world. No, I don't expect him to sit at home and do nothing while I am gone. And if his friends want to go hang out, then I want him to go see them, I want him to enjoy himself, really, I do. Which is why I am not mad at him.

But even that small, tiny thing, just totally crushed me. Just what it represented. The worst is that I figured it would have been G.I. Joe, so when he said "please don't hate me!" i was expecting to laugh off our plans to go see it together and tell him not to worry, it was fine. That movie would have been fine. But of course he went with a group of geeky gays who get off on doing things feminine, like seeing a chick-flick. People he 'didn't think i would like.' truth. so much truth. I probably wouldn't like them. But now he has single-handedly torn away one of the few thigns I always had in the back of my mind that kept me stable, and walled me off from a group of his friends. NEAT.

I know this seems incredibly melodramatic. It probably is. But when your life is literally being torn upside-down.... it is the normal things that you have to hold on to. And him and I seeing a movie together is it. It's the epitome of where I wish I could be right now. Not dealing with great-aunts who choke every time they eat, a grandfather who vomits almost every meal and had two small heart attacks last week that nobody knows about except for me and my grandma, a grandfather literally wasting away, thank you cancer, for visiting my life again, and a mother who i just completely and utterly do not understand and except for rare bouts have trouble with the slightest of communication with.

It just made me so miserable. And I know a lot of it is just transferred anger. That's clear. And I get it. But I can't even talk about it because the walls in this house are thin as can be, as in, I can hear my fucking step-dad take a shit through his bathroom two closets and into my room, so how the fuck am i supposed to have a conversation like that when somebody is on every floor of the house and people are nosy as shit. So when I call him back, when I apologize for being so grouchy, when I want to fucking talk about it... nope! Can't, says the torrential downpour outside and the total lack of privacy.

Which is my real problem. I need to be alone. A few hours a day. At least. But I can't. Not here. No matter where I turn, somebody is there. The most privacy I have is when I am sleeping on my sister's couch, and even then I get company when she has to get up and pee because the baby thinks her bladder is a pillow, and when Nick gets up real early to go to work.

UGH.

Oh Livejournal. What have I done without you, my outlet for all things pathetic and whiny?

I feel a bit better now. Despite the fact tomorrow represents five hours in the car, a lot of extended family, and about half of a small town in central New York who will engage me in the most mundane of small talk. I want to partition my emotions in accordance to what is actually causing them. I wish myself the best of luck with that.

 So Jenna was complaining that she couldn't get LJ to work. It reminded me I had one. I don't imagine I'll read what I have missed. Maybe sometime over the next month, who knows. I do know, however, that I don't intend to tell Jenna that my computer doesn't hat LJ like hers does.

I am officially moved out of my apartment and back at home. Unlike most of my peers, I'm just here for a month! Then back down to Maryland to move into a new apartment with two friends. I am excited. Can't find a fucking job, but it'll happen.

Things with Boy are still good, mostly. I am bad at being relationships. I am bad at having to think about somebody else. I am bad at explaining myself. Most of the people in my life know to just... let me be however I need to be. But when you see a lot of somebody, I imagine it gets frustrating. I feel bad for him, and will be sad when he realizes he deserves better than me. Until then, however, I intend to enjoy our time together.

I still can never sleep. Luckily I am becoming good friends with Netflix. Their watch instantly feature is quickly becoming a weekly staple in my life.

The only down side is foreign movies are making me doubt the originality of American cinema. Obviously most everything has been done, and all we are left with, this far into an industry, is re-hash. I get that. But early 1970s Japanese movies have made me hate Tarantino for Kill Bill. I am halfway through Gwoemul and am feeling myself lost respect for Cloverfield. It sucks, but in a good way.

Now all I really need in my life is a job. And a kitty. But the kitty ain't be coming, so I guess I should look for a job.

I also bought running shoes. And a nike+ sensor. Here's to hoping i can stick with it? I start tomorrow, all things go as planned.

Wish me luck? :)
 

 So... two weeks ago my aunt's brother passed away. a week ago the same aunt's mother died.

wednesday my grandpa went to the hospital because his liver stopped working. just... stopped.

turns out his liver is fine - it was the pancreatic cancer that was causing problems!

he is dying. and he has around six months to live.



sometimes i just don't even know what to do.

and i do not know how i can be expected to give a damn about papers, projects, finals.

Oh, my life. I was fortunate enough to have a grant dropped into my lap, and so have used the money to purchase a new macbook pro and printer. The printer came today. I realized belatedly I have no room for it, so I must spend most of the day tomorrow cleaning my room. Hopefully the computer will e here by Friday. I feel a bit like a race-traitor, but I also am more excited than I have been in about three days.

I have more work than I can possible deal with. Projects, finals, a midterm today [or as I took to calling it, an endterm], and infinite more things. Oh well. I am starting to not care, because I really can't mess up things that much. /waves goodbye to his motivation/

Things have gotten sort of busy as I've found myself becoming more and more smitten with a certain boy I used to affectionately call Thing 1. He has been upgraded to the status of Boy.

He is 25, 6' 5" and absolutely wonderful. His only flaw is he has reduced me to something that very much resembles a five-year old girl. And let's face it - that isn't a flaw.

Between him and friends and school I have approximately three seconds for myself, six minutes for breathing, and about an hour of sleep a day, but life is good, and the only thing that could make it better would be graduating, which happens in three weeks. I simply refuse to complain.


I was also inducted into the Japanese National Honor Society tonight, and tomorrow drop off my forms accepting an invitation to join Phi Beta Kappa, arguably the most prestigious American honor society for liberal arts and sciences. After years of hard work, I feel like I am actually getting the slightest bit of recognition, and it feels good - especially because i was one of barely any white people to get the award, and the only one who didn't study abroad or live in the language house. :D

Things... have finally fallen into place. I have way too much work, Boy and I were heckled at the National Zoo for holding hands [yay america], and I am, as always, perpetually exhausted. And it's perfect. Everything is perfect.

I must be the only person who can finally find somebody I am interested in, and then another, and then find the three of us all at the same bench at the same metro station in all of DC on a Friday night. Really? Fucking really?

It's good to know the world still has its sense of humor.

Dear Japan,

I miss you. Also: I am sort of mad at you. You see, you appear to have made me once again into a real person. I spent a lot of years perfectly encasing my heart in a block of ice, and then building a wonderfully mortared little wall around it. And while people have taken the time to chip away at the stone, the sun shining at Todaiji, at Kiyomizudera, at Inari Taisha, is what finally has melted that ice, and reminded me what is means to be human. I am endebted to you, and would also like to punch you in the eye.

That is all.

<3andrew

Today I was late to work. Which isn't exactly surprising. I am usually late to work. No, I am always late to work. My boss knows this - she seems to like this. She asked if I could come in at 1, and I told her I would try, but might be late. I came in at 1:30. This was over a month ago. I told her I could never get there before 1:30, because I had to grab lunch. This is true, and is because it takes me an hour to grab lunch. She said that was okay, and every week since, has scheduled me, always for 1pm. Each week I remind her - I can't be there until 1:30! Remember... I have to grab lunch! And she tells me she remembers, and thenshe writes down, Andrew, Tuesday, 1pm.

But today was special because today I was even later to work. If being late is actually on time, which it should be, since she knows I'm late, then I was late-late today. Since I always stay longer to make up the time, it doesn't really make a difference. Nobody is affected by this lateness. Except maybe my boss, and since she seems to like it, I don't think that really counts. I was late-late today because I had to grab lunch, but also talk with a friend. I kept saying goodbye to her, as I knew I had to get to work, but I kept talking after I said goodbye. The goodbyes weren't really goodbyes at all, they were really more like "and also i want to tell you this" and "did i forget to ask you about sunday?" and "that isn't really pretty and i don't think that is art at all."

I don't. Think that that is art, I mean. It's not that it's bad, it's just not really good. If it was bad, it might still be art, because at least then i would care about it. But i don't. I am completely ambivalent towards it. And so i don't think it should really be considered art. Perhaps instead we could call it "Installation" or "Something That Somebody Has Done, That You Won't Care About." I think we should go with the first one, it sounds a bit more positive.

That way, people might get there hopes up. So when they realize that "Installation" is actually really just "Something That Somebody Has Done, That You Won't Care About" they might feel disappointed, and then get sad. Getting sad is an emotional response, and an example of a reaction. Reactions are critical to the creation of art. And so if people get sad because of "Installation," which is really just "Something That Somebody Has Done, That You Won't Care About," but is actually "Something That Somebody Has Done, That You Won't Care About, Named to Disappoint You," that would make it art.

Another example of a reaction is how I am going to Japan. This is really more an example of an overreaction, and perhaps even escapism. I am sorry for the lie - but then, I confessed it to you, so it was perhaps more of a momentary misleading, which is much less reprehensible than a lie. Either way, in 141.5 hours, I will be on a plane, which pleases me, as both an overreaction, and as a means of escapism.

As much as it owns my life, I really do love my job. I spent the first three-and-a-half/four hours [of six, how darling] with Helen, minus the time it took her to do rounds. I spent from then until 2am with Michelle and Janay, and as they left, I started talking to Matt, until 2:45 or so. Six hours, and I am forced to entertain myself for approximately fifteen minutes? How delightful.

Things with S have ended. They did so on a decent note - a quick and decisive tapering, acknowledged by both parties while never openly discussed. Exactly how I like it.  The last thing I said was that Lidia Bastianich was a guest judge on Top Chef. Which is quite awkward. I am somebody who prefers things open, talked about. My issues with people stem from their inability to let me in enough, to let me get close. But apparently relationships [dare I even call it that?] are stressful, call out a Jungian Shadow. Ah, well - only a matter of time.

I just wrote a whole lot, and promptly deleted it all. It was boring, it was pointless, and it was an attempt at validation, which i don't really need.

Apparently I am fairly upset about something, or have ingested too much latent nickel in the past few days. Feet are fairly dreadful. Somebody become a doctor, please? Cure my disease? At least there's a really dreadful SciFi movie on. Distraction at its finest.

I also need to remember to buy more Sebeka. Yay cheetah wine.

Last night I dreamt that my sister gave me an operation. I am unsure of what she removed, exactly. We did it at home, while I was on the couch. I woke up just a few hours before people were going to be getting home. I had seven scars, and couldn't really move, but I managed to put a shirt on and fake it when the door started opening.

there are a few things i hate. one of them is compliments.

now, if something is warranted, or somebody has done an especially good job, or if you are trying to express gratitude, that is understandable. they do have their place.

but i hate unnecessary or gratuitous ones. they lose meaning.

i don't know how to take a compliment. compliments, unless i feel i really did do something especially laud-worthy, just make me feel uncomfortable and awkward. i try to be gracious, but i'm sure fall flat on my face. i just hate them.

i also don't know how to GIVE a compliment. again, i just don't find them as meaningful. i small comment here or there, when something strikes me, if i have very good reason or take the time to appreciate something, sure. when amongst friends it's easier, because i feel so close to them, and nice things are part of banter, sometimes. but other than that, they always feel... forced. i feel like i am supposed to give one, and somebody else wants me to, and then i feel like i should try to, but also don't want to, simply out of spite.

but what i reallllly don't like? people who FISH FOR THEM. that drives me insane. it is one thing, if you feel unappreciated, to talk to me in a serious conversation and tell me so. i would respect that completely, and try to work with you on a way in which i could better articulate my appreciation, and also a way in which somebody else would realize that that is simply not how i function. yay compromise. but do not sit there and try to make me say nice things. that does not fly.

and the only thing i hate more, are the people who, when having trouble getting somebody to compliment them, compliment themselves. that is just straight up bullshit.




i guess this might relate to my absolute disgust with 'thank you.' although it also has its place, i really think that people should just shut the fuck up and prove how they feel.

same with compliments.

just respect somebody, and appreciate them, and fucking step up and prove it. that is so much more important.

I cannot tell if I like or dislike that some people know my name and who I am simply because I work the desk. Generally I'm really good at remembering faces and names, and, at work at least, developing a friendly rapport with residents.

But sometimes people will just roll up and be like, "Oh, hey, Andrew, I need...." And I'm like... whutwhut, bitch, how you know my name? Meh well.

Everytime I get to work I have to rearrange the packages. And it's frustrating because it's not hard to keep them fairly well organized. Also because this is my third year of having to re-organize the packages every-other shift or so. I don't know if there's just some piece of me that is inherently adamant about creating order out of chaos, orrrr what, but unless I'm in a really bad mood, I simply cannot stand to see the cabinets a mess.

Also, reading Commentarii de Bello Civili. Not a fan. I think I've just read too much Caesar too soon. I read Commentarii de Bello Gallico last semester, and I had some trouble staying interested, but man, picking up this one, it's just not happening.

Also, I am so happy, because even though we've had less than a week of school, I have already developed a nearly perfect routine! All I need now is my desk work schedule. The best part is MWF I have time for the gym! During the day! See, this is why you don't make friends with lesbians, they're all about making you workout :c We have class together, meet up at gym to do half an hour of rowing, and separate for our last half hour and then meet up back in our next class, haha. It works quite well.

Also, listen to Hello Saferide. Pretty neat shit.