anything but unlucky: 2013

dear reader,

happy new year to you. sincerely, thank you for catching up on my scattered ramblings. i wanted to post some reflections about this past year, which i have deemed 2013: the year the universe decided to test me and i passed (i think). if you know anything about me at all, you know that i constantly struggle with my unproductive flaws and ways to improve myself as a woman, a thinker, a friend, a breather of oxygen.

countdown, here we go.

13. i rarely bake or cook. call me lazy, or call me efficient: i prefer my foods simple (steamed vegetable of choice and boiled chicken with red curry sauce = weekly dinner option) and quickly thrown together. recipes that involve multiple verbs ("peel," "dice," "grate," "stir," "grease," "blend," and "combine" before i hit the second line) and ingredient lists longer than the contents of diet coke usually get filed and never used. but in 2013, my best friend introduced me to bountiful baskets (for $15, i was presented with a vegetable and a fruit basket containing fresh, seasonal produce) which has led to some fantastic new recipes. since i am not picky about veggies or fruit, each week's bounty was consumed in its entirety, since i hate waste and i was up for a new cooking challenge. i made turkey meatballs, roasted rainbow carrots with honey balsamic vinegar glaze, creamed corn and egg casserole with fresh anaheim peppers and ham, kale and sweet potato salad, mashed cauliflower with toasted breadcrumbs and parmesan, and many flavorful additions to my morning protein shake (fresh mango, pear, pomegranate, bananas, and blueberries).

12. exploring the northwest this past year has made me appreciate how lucky i am to choose whether i want to wake up to the hum of car tires on blacktop and never lose sight of building lights on rooftops or if my afternoon walk involves a lakeside mountain goat and finding sleeping bats nestled in rafters. in 2013, i roadtripped to montana, washington, and utah.

11. my annual closet purge revealed that i own so many beautiful clothing items and accessories-- each carrying a story about where i found it, how i wore it, and how much i really love getting ready in the morning to greet the world with an a-line jersey knit skirt or a lace peplum top or a studded gold bangle on my wrist.

10. very few people understand me and i am still in the process of accepting that i am mostly to blame for keeping secrets but finding a comfortable way to change how i interact with people (mainly of the opposite gender). so even though i consider myself truly close to a just handful of guys, 2013 severed my ties with two important people; shattering my idealization of a role model and friend in one case forced me to take a step back and question how, once again, i could so stupidly fail the test of finding a trustworthy, decent partner. i continue to struggle with letting go, removing the harsh personal blame and unnecessary guilt, and coming to terms with the idea that i am what x wants but not who he chooses. but i do not deserve to be pitted against petty, dependent bitches; so i move on.

9. my two best friends both had babies in september. ty and nancy are so very fortunate to be born into loving, supportive families with friends that loved them before they even met.

8. 2013 was the year of my lips taking center stage. lipstick, lip gloss, lip balm, lip crayon: the collection amasses.

7. for the first time ever, my alcoholic drink of choice is a glass of wine. while i prefer the sweet, preferably lightly carbonated wines, i really enjoy a cab with dinner. i tasted my first syrah, malbec, and viognier in 2013 and am excited to participate in the accessible sophistication of being deemed a wino.

6. i indulged in young adult fiction in 2013. if you know anything about me, you know that i pride myself in being a critic, a naysayer, and stubbornly refusing to "like" popular writing and movies. something changed this year, reader, and i found myself enjoying the hunger games series and pretty much anything written or inspired by john green. this is really a.big.deal.

5. i've always been a fan of makeup. what's not to love about shimmering eyeshadow or a new tube of mascara that never clumps? but in 2013, i realized i was definitely on the downward slope to 30 years old, and i decided to focus on a skincare regimen. during a mary kay make up demo, the rep stated, "it's easier to prevent than it is to reverse," and i suddenly imagined my face covered in little cornflakes needing to be microdermabrasion'ed the hell off of my skin. i suppose 28 years old isn't a terrible age to hopefully preserve a little of my youth even though my freckles and oddly placed facial moles continue to cause me great consternation.

4. my kia died by exploding the heater core and flooding the floor while i was at work. a tree fell on my new car.  a giant nail lodged itself into my car tire. i am cursed with automobile issues, but 2013 taught me to be thankful and appreciate people with car-fixing skills. i have my talents and hobbies, but none of them are mechanically-based; i am so thankful that other people are good at what i am not and their passion helps people like me who ask google "why is my car flooded?" or "siri, directions to les schwab."

3. selfies were out of control this year, reader. i will never be able to forget what i looked like in 2013 from a variety of angles in different reflective surfaces.

2. my reputation for shirking any love interests peaked in 2013. my friends send me text messages with anti-love sentiments that remind them of me. but, even though i rarely talk about my intimate personal life, this past year was filled with interesting people, stories, and memories (some excellent and some irritating) that should be preserved in serifs or pixels-- someday.

1. as i look ahead to 2014, i am overwhelmed with thankfulness. i still feel young-- even if i am not anymore. physically, i am as strong as ever (who would have EVER though i would be the most athletic in my group of frieds-- of course, "athletic" is loosely applied). i wallow less in apathy and don't cry (regularly) in the shower anymore. my friends are varied and few but still just as amazing as ever. in 2014, i hope to exude a positive attitude of openness, willingness, and acceptance to continue to explore this simultaneously cruddy and intriguing world around me. invite me to share your joys too, reader.

your move, 2014. i'm ready.

dear x: think of you

dear x,

one of my biggest fears is fading into middle age, mediocre and useless. i am terrified of the day when i will walk through a room unnoticed. they will find suitable replacements for my skills, and i will no longer be relevant.

i worry that i passed my prime. those years with you were the best; but, as fun and memorable as they were, what if that's as good as it gets for me? and worse, what if you have chosen to disown the shared experiences that shaped me-- forfeit any association with our past, our lovely little garden of travels and sunsets and handmade birthday cards and content routines?

because even more heartbreaking than being forgotten is to be acknowledged and then dismissed.

i am writing you this love letter, x, because it is time to confront my fears and appeal to your memory for the strength to mitigate my own chaos. you were always so good at sensing my impending storms and then forging blue skies and waterless rainbows for me-- you reacted so seamlessly that i didnt know i needed your barometer and a raincoat. i lived for so many years without lightning cracks or hurricane swells-- but what if being apart from you, x, for the rest of my life, means fading into gray-washed cloudless, breezeless mundaneness?

someday all they will hear is the sound of my shoes instead of turning their heads to see the tears in my eyes at the realization that the best is hard to forget.

love,
a.

just to put your mind at ease

you don't owe me anything

you paid me well in memories

dear x: in pieces

dear x,

when i started this challenge, there were two very specific people for whom i would not write. let me make this clear: this is not a love letter because, honestly, i wish-- with everything i've known, do know, and will know-- that i had never met you and subsequently am repulsed by any memory of you.

but it took an episode of "glee" and a scene between quinn and shelby to procure some serious feels this morning that prompted me to reflect and share. i have spent the last few years in self-quarantine, because i am afraid of ever being stupid enough to allow myself to be glamoured into trusting someone as shallow and cruel as you. i let you bully me into considering that i was less of a person because i am not like every other girl you know; i'm not dependent or conventional--for better or worse-- and you continually suggested that i have been and always will be a disappointment to my family, friends, gender, race-- species-- because i say no to thunder.

you shoved me into a corner and expected me to fall in love with you. i didn't. you forced me to make choices and i truly believe i did the best i could. i made mistakes as a child, i was 23, and the secrets haunt me. i allowed your poisonous seeds to germinate and take root in my mind, now so deeply implanted in my own self-view and self-worth.

to dive into nothingness, into the abyss, into the recessive dark-- is to place myself into that wretched corner that i still struggle with. i tiptoe to it and curl into the fetal position. but it's time to recognize that letting go of the anger and shame is not the same as surrendering.

you are unforgivable.

but that doesn't mean i am.

without a trace of love,
a.

you wrap me in your arms

and chill me to the bone

dear x: lotus flower

dear x,

if he is the reason why i will never love another, then you are the reason why I will never love.

i have this recurring dream that is actually a memory from years ago. my body sat on the edge of your twin bed, but my mind swirled in past and possibility. you jerked me back to reality with a simple statement: "you look sad."

"i am sad," i whispered, to you and to me.

i am writing you this love letter, x, to tell you that you are not alone. when you enclose into the elliptical caress of your emotionless psyche, please know i too exist somewhere likely sucking my own metaphorical wounds. our monkeyrope is your attachment to my pain; you knew there were only so many times you could fuck me (over) and return to her the next morning, as if your guilt was worth more than my foolish hope. you knew there were only so many times, x, you could deny (knowing) me, as if your attractiveness depends on your dark solitude and not on my pathetic belief that you'll change. you knew there were only so many times you could wipe off my kiss before your own lips started to blur (partial) lies from (slanted) truth. you can tell them whatever you want; you're the one who doesn't sleep at night.

no, x, you are not alone. please know that you're not the only one who may be comfortable but not in love. because you have made it this way.

love,
a.

just to see what if

just to see what is

grocery shopping

i hate grocery shopping.  you know, the planning, the driving around, the excuses, the time commitment, the letdown, and the eventual leftover baggage.  it's really a big ordeal for me.

first, there's the list-making.  you have to determine what you need and what you want.  or you can just go in cold: you'll know what you want when you get there.  some of us only think ahead for the week-- short-term fixes--while some can plan ahead for years.  then there's the temptations once you're shopping, what looks (and sometimes smells) appealing but you know it's not good for you.  food like that usually goes straight to your hips.  or just leaves you with a tummy ache and heartburn.

then, you have decide where to go.  somewhere large that's well-stocked but the quality is questionable?  perhaps a smaller, local market where you have to wear the right clothes and are judged by what you leave with?  or maybe just a quick drop-by wherever is convenient?  sometimes you just never know.  or maybe you're the type that shops with a friend to make the trip more exciting.  i prefer the solo excurisions, personally.

if you're like me, the excuses soon start piling up though.  often, i decide to make the effort tomorrow.  afterall, i can't starve the rest of my life.  but, the day wears me down, i decide i'm too tired, i'm not in the right mindset to deal with people and options, so i decide to go another time.  that's when you start making bad choices: you start grab-buying, anything sounds good enough, and sooner than later you start resenting grocery shopping even more.

eventually, you'll make it to the grocery store with list in hand (or head) and you begin.  maybe you start at the produce section-- full of fresh choices and implied expiration dates.  healthy carrots? no. refreshing cucumbers? no. tall celery? sure.  so there you are, eyeing the celery.  the newest stock is presented in the front; the older, been-around-a-while celery is moved to the back to either expire or be selected later by more forgiving eyes.  maybe you look for a slim package, light-weight but all you really need.  or maybe you prefer stockier stems.  but, be careful which one you choose.  i mean, you can walk around with celery for a while, give it a good squeeze before deciding it's not really right for you.  you might release it where it doesn't quite fit in (perhaps the scattered bulk foods, or the domestic cake-decorating aisle) or your good heart will let it down gently and place it back in its home--unspoiled and hopeful for another chance to be a shopper's desire.  and despite the cruelty, you can leave it at the checkout stand, just seconds away from true commitment before your credit card seals the deal.  however, it's just cruel to take it home and then bring it back-- it may never resell, since other shoppers will prefer new products in case yours has been "damaged."

there are times i return home from grocery shopping with seemingly nothing for all my efforts.  other times, i end up with way more than i expected.  sometimes everything was just perfect and you don't have to go grocery shopping for a while; sometimes you  have to make room; sometimes you forgot something really important.  i am often frustrated.  i envy other shoppers for their efficiency and ability to find exactly what they're looking for.  i am often discouraged, leave the grocery store grumpy and unsatisfied to head home and bask in what little i have from past experiences (leftover tidbits or remnants from a fancy appetizer).  i wonder what other people think of grocery shopping, how often and when they find time and energy.  perhaps this is why i rarely go, prefering instead the short and sporadic attempts at nutrition and sustenance.

i hate grocery shopping.

aren't there better things to do instead?

the truth is i never really left you.

oh, harro.

the chill mornings and waning sunlight tell me summer's end is near. fall is my favorite time of year, stirring some remnants of sentimentality together with hardened expectations for the impending colder (see: isolated) months ahead. dear reader, i have (re)learned many things these last few months; i hope you have also delved into thought, experience, people-- life.

so here's how i spent my summer...

deciding what to do with my bangs and expanding my accessories collection.









rediscovering my past in the recesses of my old bedroom at my parents' house.



my first sunglasses purchased at express!









confirming my problems are not diagnosable by a lab.





my first commercial aired. (3 more in the works.)




immersing myself in new worlds and drama.

like gossip girl

and nat geo documentaries

and glee

and-- big applause, please-- modern family

descending further into domestic life-- and conceding it's really not that terrible.















rediscovering past favorites that fit the present perfectly.

defending my patio from terrorists.

logging miles on a different set of tires.

getting away for a while.

















































for more pictures, see amy's blog too.






never reaching an answer but i'm really ok with that.

and life continues.

the obsession continues.

lately, i've been fighting this strange battle within (so, what's new?) and wondering what purpose this blog serves.

for you.

and for me.

i haven't reached a definitive answer, other than i'm glad you're reading-- and believe me when i say i never stop thinking up new things to write.  when someone says, "i just don't know what to write about, i have nothing to say," i question his/her intelligence and ability to observe and perceive the world around him/her.  please, you can't tell me you're not inspired by something-- a child singing to himself in a shopping cart, the long-awaited arrival of decent watermelon at the local fruit stand (because, seriously, the wedges at albertson's are tops!), or working up the nerve to try a ke$ha-inspired makeup makeover.

thought persists.

you're always on my mind.

is it possible the karma fairy screwed up?

this weekend is my "sad face" one-day weekend. but, nevertheless, I spent my afternoon volunteering for the humane society on one of their mobile adoptions-- or adoptions at another location other than the shelter.

I arrived and picked out the cutest 6 month old border collie mix puppy named neo. he has the softest ears! I gave him a big hug and kiss. about fifteen minutes into my shift, I was standing with neo and talking to another volunteer when I heard, "oh no! it's diarrhea!" which, let's face it, is never a good sign.


and it's definitely not a good sign when people are pointing to the dog at the end of my leash.

so, I collected paper towels and spray and doggie poo bags. the scent of green dog crap is just as terrible as it sounds. to calm down and to distract myself, I was thinking good thoughts (pretty ponies, tila tequila, warm blankets that smell like fresh laundry, tila tequila again...) but the disgustingly warm poo just melted to watery chunks when I tried grabbing it with the mutt mitt bags.

I walked neo outside, let him pee, and headed back inside where it was not raining. about 10 feet inside the store, the dreaded "shit hunch" started again and he squirted out some more #2's all over the floor. in a circle.

checked my watch. 18 minutes had passed. 3 hours and 42 minutes to go.

another 4 minutes pass and I'm handed another dog-- the volunteer's back began spasming and she couldn't handle the 56 lb lab mix with no leash training anymore. so as I'm being jerked in a perpetual circle (because the dog is more than half my weight and more than 60000 times beyond my comfort zone), I'm thinking I should have just stayed home and painted my nails.

I looked long and hard at my situation. 3 older ladies are cuddling their chihuahua mixes and runny neo on their laps, chattering away. the two high school boys are being dragged around the store with their pit bull and Australian shepherd. I mean, I know I work out at Golds and everything, but seriously. seriously! at some point, I feel the strain of my smile as I tried--over and over-- to calm the dog down with kind words, lots of petting, and repeated visits outside.

when my second blister popped and started oozing, I felt the sharp sting of hot tears in my eyes. I can only fantasize about tila's ginormously perfect rack for so long before the physical pain and my natural emoness take over.










as the unnamed tank/dog attempted to dislocate my shoulder for the 70th time, I vowed that my good deeds have to end. I try to do something nice and just get screwed. rather mindlessly, I let the tornado-on-a-leash lead us outside. right before we made it to the doors, a young couple look at the dog, point, and exclaim, "IT'S HER! SHE'S BEAUTIFUL!"

they proceed to shower her with undue compliments and affection. they mumble something about how they saw her online profile, heard about the mobile adoption on Facebook, and came down to see her. this is the one and only time I have ever seriously wanted to make out with al gore, for his marvelous invention of the interweb was a beacon of heaven and lead to my salvation.

they announced they want to adopt her. my heart fluttered with joy and relief! they began the paperwork, left briefly to get some money, and were very excited to get Lily (they named her after a while) home to Coors, their other dog.

I inspected my leash wounds.













and concluded that this would be the last mobile adoption I work at. if there was some way to specify weight/breed preferences or to morph into experienced dog-handler over night, I would love to continue helping these animals find their future homes.

but seriously, reader, all I could think about was going home, washing the stink of poop and drool off of me, and gorging on some top ramen.





these converses are made for admin volunteering.

the end.

the goods: old movie quotes

I spent most of the morning thinking about how I should get out of bed and make pancakes and sausage... instead, I took an extra long shower, got back in bed, made some coffee, and distracted myself with tumblr and the like.








my birthday is in late august, so getting older used to mean pool parties, BBQ, and friends when I lived in California. I think my 13th birthday involved watching "10 things I hate about you" and swooning over Heath Ledger.

this challenge to find good things has indeed been a challenge, readers. I don't know why my life has to seem so complicated and convoluted-- other than perhaps it is an elegant scheme by my neuroses and subconscious.

he told me, "you know, the worst thing about you is that you're beautiful and smart and don't even know it. or don't know how to believe it... tragic." I've been pondering the implications of the "worst" of me. and I've got nothing.

so maybe the problem isn't the problem. it's every little avoidable detail that caused the problem, that will cause another problem, and another after that.

beauty has nothing to do with it.

the goods: this is a clever post, where I am really sad inside but pretend it's a good thing

tonight, I celebrated my friend christy's birthday. her always thoughtful and romantic husband planned a surprise dessert with her friends and family at a restaurant downtown. happy birthday, Christy!

afterwards, I decided to meet up with the bestie and some of her work friends. I tasted the strongest margarita I've ever had outside of las Vegas





and then people-watched at the balcony.

tonight, I was surrounded by people-- mostly strangers, but fellow humankind nonetheless. there was the fat-skinny girl in a sequin skirt, the howling boy in a wolf hat, the older man in a navy blue polo hogging the pool table: all seeking connections and attention. there I was too-- in my skinny jeans and newly dyed hair (back to black. playtime is over)-- feeling so alone and isolated and sad.

I would forget them all, never see any of them again, if I could only be with you.

tonight, instead of dancing or flirting or taking my top off, I wrote poetry on old gum wrappers. I thought of you, missed you, and wished you felt the same way.

so, upon crawling into bed, trolling tumblr, I found this:






stupid and silly as that is, it is exactly what my heart feels right now.

so I listen to some tunes:









and hope I see you in my dreams tonight. it seems to be the only way I can be happy.

the goods: A to Z

i got this idea from an english girl i follow on tumblr.  here's a favorite item starting with each letter of the alphabet. maybe you'll learn something new about me. maybe you'll think about what your list would look like. maybe we have favorites together and can share.

a is for applesauce

especially my mom's.

b is for basenji

these little critters can't bark.

c is for curly hair

maybe my 20's were good for something.

d is for dancing alone

doesn't rihanna look gorgeous?

e is for eric northman

exchanging bodily fluids never sounded so good.

f is for fabric

my collection grows.

g is for gossip girl

call me cheesy, but i love chuck bass.

he understands her.

h is for hello kitty

i wouldn't be a good asian if i didn't love her.

i is for indian food

the mix of flavors, scents, and textures is amazing.

j is for jelly beans

starburst jb's are tops.

k is for kitty

how can you resist a snuggle?

l is for late night happy hours

discounted apps and drinks with friends.

m is for mirrors

paris hilton taught me to never pass one up.

n is for nail polish

it's like makeup for your nails.

o is for owls

wise and flighty.

p is for pilot precise v5 rolling ball pens

can't write effectively without one.

q is for quincy

little green lizard from foxtrot is so stinkin' cute.

r is for fresh rain on pavement

shiny, smelly, and makes me want to dance.

s is for soup

i would eat it every day for the rest of my life.

t is for taylor trifecta

swift, momsen, and lautner. sigh.

u is for undies

especially pretty ones like gilly hicks.

v is for venus razors

over a decade of shaving with minimal (albiet, traumatic at times) knicks.

w is for watermelon gum

"candy" fix and stress reliever in one.

x is for xylitol

ok, a bit of a stretch, but it does taste pretty natural.

y is for yimmys yayo

because he's the man.

z is for zebra prints

black, white, simple, and visually exciting.