Hitman vs Jude Law// Last Night's Adventures

vs



So I saw Hitman.
And omg the guy is so frickin hot.
If you know me, I rarely label a masculine entity as 'hot'
But omg, my friend and I went yesterday to watch Hitman for the girl who we thought was pretty good looking but ends up the guy is just smoking. LOL.
He has what I call the 'martini glass figure': broad shoulders, built upper torso and arms which tapers into the waist and is slim all the way through from there- like a martini glass. Plus he's 6' so he looks amazing in clothes: especially in the white shirt, red tie and a long coat. aerjaera
Thus I find this movie subjectively really good- because he's easy on the eyes. If you're not convinced by the picture, you have to watch him in action and then you'll really understand.
He walks like a wooden board, talks like he had Botox injected into him and tasers a woman when she tries to seduce him. LOL. Frick it's hilarious.
What's even more funny that is that it's such a 'guy movie' that all the scenes are so cliche, my friend and I were cracking up throughout the entire movie. There's this part where he's in a restaurant and looks through a silver spoon to see the people behind him- and my friends and I have totally done that- except we were wondering why our images were upside down on the concave side of the spoon. LOL. Anyway.

Not to mention, on Itunes I bought and am addicted to their main theme song.

Puahaha so I was talking to Rin. Jude Law vs. Agent 47:

S: Omg the guy from Hitman is so hot!
R: I'll stick to my Jude Law. you should see him in some of the more...mature adult scenes.... hahaa KIDDING!!!!
S: RIN omg I can't believe you just said that. lol
R: KIDDING!
S: But watch Hitman. He could probably kill Jude Law with a single shot.
R: hahaha yeah well jude law is just so sexy that all he has to do is look at this hitman dude and he'll just drop dead
S: HAHHA oh yeah? He's already dropped dead. Because he's just drop dead GORGEOUS


aejraejrlwa lol. Oh the cheese. I love it. This convo just had to go up on my blog. Too funny.


Anyway, after watching the film, I wanted my friend, my friend who is the perfect example of Henry Cloud theology, took me to a restaurant where she showed me how to get a guy to come over and ask for her number just by glancing at him periodically and smiling. Lo and behold, a girl came up to us after and told us that her friend, one of the guys at the table, wanted my friend's number. She gave her her number although she already has a bf, and he called her today. I was laughing my head off. She's a piece of work, she is.

Afterwards, she convinced me to go to the bar across the street since she kinda knew the manager. We chatted with him and entered the bar (he thought I was 24 although I never showed him id nor told him how old I really was when he asked. Just kept telling him to guess and smiled at every answer). Anyway, they serve watermelon soju out of a large watermelon and it was the most amazing alcoholic watermelon soju I've ever tasted. It reminds me of the watermelon juice I used to drink in HK- really sweet despite the time of season and you can barely taste the soju. I ended up guzzling two glasses plus two shots of some kind of... shot.
The side effects was of course, the 'Asian glow', which is quite embarrassing which is partially why I don't drink because I turn red. I just felt like one pulsing beat. I also started feeling sleepy though my friend said if I took three shots, I would probably become really happy/buzzed.
So I guess my alcohol tolerance is pretty high considering I don't drink- I was still levelheaded and able to walk home with my friend although my fingers felt slightly numb.
My friend, on the other hand, was really buzzed.

What happened the rest of the night was hilarious but with discretion, I'll leave that out of this entry in consideration of others.
No, we did not do anything stupid, illegal or against the Bible.



Life is too funny.

2046: the Intersection of Worlds// The Language of Movies// Mourning a Non Existent Loss

2046: The Intersection of Worlds




The more I watch this movie, the more I appreciate it. In all its abstractness, symbolism and recurring themes of loss, love and memory this stunning cinematographic piece suckers you into this fragile world that is no clearer or linear than our own.
I don't know why but every time I see this scene with Tony Leung and Faye Wong eating soup on Christmas day in a typical, old Hong Kong restaurant (I love the dramatized, high contrast lighting) it makes me want to do the same thing too. It's the ability of the director to create something so visually stunning out of something so common and mundane which really strikes me- it's those moments of the everyday injected with a bit of cinematic drama which really makes me somehow find this similar kind of beauty in my own life.
I know, I don't make sense. I told you, the artist is already insane. The intellect is on the quest for rationality, reason and logic but we'll all end up in the same boat anyway. So, Andrew, I wish you good luck as you deviate towards the dark side where Robyn and I are already sitting in cackling to ourselves.

It's a funny thing how our individual worlds cross and intersect. People- upon entering the studio apartment that my roomie and I have inhabited for the past one and a half years- always notice a fusion of cinematic drama, a strong sense of costume aesthetic, and a denial of reality in the display of top hats, skyscraper crates of shoes, dried roses in wine bottles, mannequin in cravat and beaded gown, pomegranate pattern and a NY Times crossword shower curtains, and a row of hats hanging along our hallway.
We created our own world and we essentially sucker punch you in with visuals and a constant stock of fresh baked desserts. Who else has tiramisu for breakfast? hahaha (we had to finish one to put another one in- no room in our fridge with a huge espresso cheesecake and a chocolate cheesecake dominating the space). Honestly I think the room my roommate and I inhabit is in serious need of an injection of reality. Our yellow lighting mimics candlelight so all the colours in our room are a little off since we get 1% sunlight thus in natural lighting, the colours of our clothes seem too vibrant and are constantly clashing with one another. lol.


When Catherine Zeta-Jones enters the courtroom in this get up, she looked so frickin hot. Too bad there aren't any pictures of her full costume or else I'd make this for myself. XD

Anyway,this shows you how screwed I am when I graduate and have to move out of this self constructed world of mine. I have come to believe that there is little separation between reality and fantasy- for in the denial of reality, you live a world what others call 'fantasy' but what is fantasy if you're constantly in it?


&


The Language of Movies

I've often complained about how certain people read too many books for their own good- that their thoughts are only as good as the authors that they've read. You realize that their own ideas are nothing but mere reflections of published works and holds little substance in themselves. Yet, as Robyn pointed out, all that I say is one long movie quote. My roommate and I have created almost a 'sub language' (we used to talk about how we wish we shared a common language besides English so we could talk behind people's back.. hhaha) in which we derive conversation from the context of movies that we both mutually like- to others we sound retarded, but between the two of us, it makes total sense. And they're not even profound, smart movie quotes, but the most retarded random ones ever.
If you can guess where these quotes are from that my roomie and I use- some we almost use every day- I will give you a gold star and you can join my club of insanity:

"Why, Hatsuomomo, you used to smell of jasmine. What's this new perfume? Blowfish?"

"Bye, Buddy, I hope you find your dad"

"I was soooo mad, the flames at the side of my head- the flames- breathing, heaving"

"Yes there are,"

"Wish me luck!" "No, shan't."

"I will not be beaten by a bad man and an American stick insect. Instead, this time, I choose vodka."

"An incubus of viral plague"


A: Memoirs of a Geisha, Elf, Clue, Marie Antoinette, The Devil Wears Prada, Bridget Jones Diary, The Devil Wears Prada



&

Mourning a Non Existent Loss
'Wo shang ni.'

I don't know who I am addressing- just sending it out as a wistful message to- as I said, I don't know.

Is it possible to feel loss for something you never had-
is it possible to mourn a wish that was never fully realized-
will they always stay as self-concocted memories that never existed?
Only to be held in a box of crackled gold- opened once in a while to hold something that never was brought into being?

I've always missed but never lost something completely.

As my roomie said, the timing is always off.
Is it worth loving if you're always moving?
She told me, this week, take a bolder step.
Subtle, but quite out of my character.
So I guess, in the end, I have to initiate-
to forge my own opportunities.
Bah.

Christmas is coming. I'm incredibly excited to visit my old home- a city which I regard is above New York.
I always wish for something magical to happen at Christmas- something out of the ordinary. In my narrow mindset, it never does.

Bleh

At a tea place downtown Toronto the past summer. Photograph by Robyn.

Puahah this is frickin hilarious. Thanks, Andrew.

So over Thanksgiving dinner, my friend proposed a model for dating. Some of you probably heard of this from me or was present at the dinner but it's a great model anyway:

There is a circle- the girl is allowed to wander around anywhere within this circle. The guy stands outside of this circle and ideally if the girl ever tries to push her boundaries or tries to wander outside of the circle, the guy pushes her back in.

In a case where the guy is a pushover, the 'Nice Guy', the circle is extremely large to begin with so the girl sees very little limits. In this case, she tries to push the guys buttons and if she lets her, she'll keep pushing them until he goes up the wall. In a case like this, there is little challenge for the girl to follow because the guy is not a leader.

In a case where the circle is too small, well, the guy is too controlling and the girl ends up getting hurt.

In the case of that youtube video called 'Mr Nice Guy' (on why nice guys never get the girls), all I can say is that it's true. No one wants to date just a nice guy. Nice guys are good as friends but nothing beyond that.
---------------------------------------------------------------------

She said to me that it was nice to see someone who was just human- that Christians aren't actually assexual beings.
---------------------------------------------------------------------

Language. I hate it and I love it all the same. Lately my roomie and our mutual friend have been speaking spurts of Korean and it makes me feel very isolated although I'm not part of their conversation. They constantly talk about how some Korean phrases are not translatable into English. It just irks me.

Defying and Deviation of Types

Afternoon stroll in Central Park admist the shedding skins of trees.

Excerpts from two songs that are quite similar:

I'm Not that Girl

Don't dream too far
Don't lose sight of who you are
Don't remember that rush of joy
He could be that boy
I'm not that girl

Ev'ry so often we long to steal
To the land of what-might-have-been
But that doesn't soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in
...
Don't wish, don't start
Wishing only wounds the heart.

On My Own
Sometimes I walk alone at night
When everybody else is sleeping
I think of him and then I'm happy
With the company I'm keeping
The city goes to bed
And I can live inside my head

And I know it's only in my mind
That I'm talking to myself and not to him
And although I know that he is blind
Still I say there's a way for us

I love him
But every day I'm lonely
All my life I've only been pretending
Without me, his world will go on turning
The world is full of happiness that I have never known
-------------------------------------------------------------

These songwriters know an awful lot of how girls think. As 'emo' as they sound, um, I like them. I identify with them. They speak of love perhaps, love unrequited, love unfulfilled. Love in a world of imagination and pretense, turning stale in reality. Oh I've imagined it, I've dreamed of it, I've always wanted it. But what do I know of love which extends beyond friendship? Nothing- I've never experienced it, therefore I do not know it to its fullest. Sure I can extrapolate established friendships I have now and imagine what it would be like, but in the end, no I don't know it as a whole.
There's a reason why Cinderella sings "So this is love, so this is what makes life divine."
This is sad but now I see Henry Cloud as Chef Gusteau is to Remy in Ratatouille- this little ghost that pops up on my shoulder when events of consequence take place. HAHA.

Yesterday was interesting. There was a potluck surprise party for this one girl from NYU- I was one of the two Parsons kids who was present so I didn't know that many people. As we were standing outside of St Alps Bubble Tea store (one of the only bbt places around here and it's not that great either), and one korean guy suddenly starts talking about how, in his own personal experience, he thinks that Korean girls have a Princess Complex. And the biggest princess at church happens to be, as he says, my old small group leader.

Whether that is true or not, I can't help but wonder if people think I have a Princess Complex. From my standpoint, I think it's safe to say that I don't have one: I do try and serve people in the most modest ways- washing all the dishes at he surprise party, washing stuff after service for welcoming team, setting up the table on sundays. It's not the Princess Complex that I am worried about so much as another thing that has been bothering me, is when people call me 'prim and proper'. Something about that really- not irks- but worries me. It's not that I'm annoyed by the nickname that some friends have bestowed on me 'Miss Prim and Proper' but the negative imagined connotations of what that entails and the boxed in image of limitations.

When I think of prim and proper, it conjures up images of a British lady who is always clean, neat and tidy with pressed skirts and starched collars. She is not really an exciting person- leads a quiet life, does not enjoy loud noises or crowds or dirty environments. She is well mannered, drinks tea and eats bread with butter. Overall, she is predictable.

Although I can say that I identify with some of those traits, I dislike being encompassed in the title. When people see that I express interest in Linkin Park, they're often surprised. Sam likes screaming, emo lyrics? Sure.

The other day, I accompanied Rin, Alex and Robyn to a Relient K and Switchfoot concert. Being me, I dislike clubs because they're dark, loud, with lots of people rubbing up and down each other- so if I dislike clubs, why would I enjoy a concert? Well, just to keep an open mind and to try and prove this 'Miss Prim and Proper' prototype wrong, I went.
Ironically, it was very hard for me to remain Christian in a Christian concert.
With the most annoying, selfish, self conscious teenage girl next to me, all I wanted to do in the first half of the concert was to seriously slap her (because I think I'd break my fingers if I try and punch her). I was so angry, I was trembling so I decided to leave before I could explode. In short, so far my experiences with concerts is not really that great although I'm open to others. I prefer musicals, movies and staying at home listening to a cd. There are very few singers among the performers these days.
Anyway, I think the thing I fear the most is that people who see the appearance of my external shell would assume my internal is just as shallow as my outside.

I was afraid of posting an album of pictures of our crazy weekend. Why? Because I'm afraid of people seeing me as vain, narcisstic, shallow and... insane. Which I am all three to a certain extent, but still. I have to stop caring what other people think, honestly.




I've realized one thing that hinders me from speaking to certain guys over others. I often gravitate to guys who I find are safe and whom I can identify with in the most basic way. I don't want to stereotype my guy friends, but generally speaking, I realize I click with these certain people over others, is because they all embody a few feminine traits. What does that mean? They usually are more talkative, a little more sensitive, easy to converse with and have rather interesting hobbies that cross into the realms of art, photography and food. Not these traits are bad, but now I realize that what makes me shy away from speaking to others is my fear of talking to relatively 'masculine' men- the 'stronger', quieter type. That often means that I must shoulder the conversation which leads me to believe disinterest and interrogation rather than conversation.
Just an interesting note.

Hey Andrew, I got my mom to give Rin and Alex my textbook back aka How to Get a Date Worth Keeping. :P

From the Pages of My Sketchbook: My Philosophy in Design

My roommate and I at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. In our world, Halloween is every day.

I've been doing a lot of thinking.
Or at least thinking in reaction to certain events that I experienced recently.
This is entry is derived from a lot of scribbling in my sketchbook- a lot of diagramming and random notes of revelation:

I was told to design something to reflect a culture/scenario (talk about abstract and vague). I started thinking about the life of a plastic bag- how it is created to last hundreds of years but its expected use to be only that of perhaps about.... two hours? We make it out of oils, use more gas to get them shipped to the stores, and then more stuff is placed into the bags and then the bags are discarded. And they stay in the landfills.
Its life expectancy is longer than its use.

So, I thought to myself, what is a bag to a consumer?
1) Function: For functional purposes of holding/carrying items easily
2) Protection: To protect the purchased item
3) Representation: To represent the taste of the consumer and projects a link between brand and consumer

I decided to juxtapose this with the beauty of the cherry blossom trees in April. Why, is it that we value cherry blossoms? Why are we so enthralled in their beauty? What makes us go back for more? What part of that experience, is so enticing, so memorable?.

I realized that because cherry blossoms, unlike plastic bags, are beautiful because their beauty comes from the instant realization of its shortlived-ness. Cherry blossom festivals last for a week- the blossoms only last for a week. They bud, burst into bloom and fade into the ground until the next spring. The beginning, as someone said, brings a pain of their ending in the present. Yes, they are a visual aesthetic, a purpose mostly to serve the eyes as a delight.

I realized, then, the various difference between human design and God design:

The anticipation of death heightens the value of an object.
Cherry blossoms die, we know that, thus we love them because they are so ephemeral.

God design is not bendable or controllable by human will but forces that are beyond us.
If we had the ability to control the lifespan of the cherry blossom, they would no longer be held as valuable. Their ephemerality is the reason why we love them so- something that is higher than human power.

Human design philosophy is totally warped. We try to build things of value, monumentality and of worth that would transcend time. Yet things like a plastic bag that are meant to be disposed of, can last longer than even a building. Ironically the things we think would last, the Forbidden City, the Parthenon, the Great Wall are crumbling between our fingers- iconic architecture that only stands through constant renovations and repairs. What we see now are not the original bricks, but replicas. The paint we see on the Mona Lisa, was not done by Da Vinci but by restoration experts who have surgically touched the piece up to somehow restore it to its 'former glory' (whatever that means). What we are looking at is only the mere shadow would have looked like in the past.

It made me think- that perhaps instead of designing something of permanence- we should design the ephemeral. Instead of designing objects, we should design an object that does not satisfy the consumer as itself, but serves as a vehicle of an experience. Similar to the cherry blossom festival in which the experience of being under a canopy of flowers makes one feel the awesomeness of the Creator but also the imminent death that's about to come. If one cannot create something that is eternal, for it is proven that none of us can as perishable beings, we can opt to create objects of transcendence and ephemerality. But if we ever try to preserve ephemerality, the beauty of the object loses its appeal. If we could preserve the blossoms by extending their lifetime somehow, as I said before, the ability alone to wield time makes the experience of the blossoms less valuable.

Can the design of a product create an experience that could last long after the product itself disappears?

You may say, oh this does not apply to me because I'm not an art design student. But the truth is is that we all design. Engineers design software, cars, buildings. Techies create cell phones, computers, laptops, stereo systems. Doctors fashion bladders out of colons, create artificial limbs, install heart monitors. The crap we make in this world, is it something worth making and how does it go beyond just the physical and transcend into the world of experience? How can smell, sight and sound- the other three senses that are often neglected for the tactile and the visual, have an impact on design? Design is universal, the five senses are universal traits that the majority of humans have.

Whether of transcedence or permanence, we should decide what we put into this world: if it holds an experience unique to itself and rethink the lifespan of products that are not meant to last.

In the State of Anticipation

So Alex and Rin were supposed to meet at 1pm and start driving down.
It was moved to 4pm.
It's now 11:26pm and I'm waiting.
It takes at least 8 hours.
I wonder what's in store for us these next few days! :D
I'm so happy they're coming.






I came back from Small Groups today. A girl asked for us to pray for her 'future relationship'. I later asked her what she meant by that: did she already like a guy or was she just asking God to bless her with a boyfriend/husband? I got the hint that she liked someone at church. I asked her what she was doing about it. She said she was 'waiting for God.'
And I just laughed in my head.
You can't just wait kids, gotta work for it. Doing your best while still having that trust in God. He will give you the opportunities, you just have to decide what you will do when you receive them.

Realize

First of all...
I KNEW IT I should honestly become a trend forecaster- I predicted this a few posts back. And yes, that is a job.
It's in me.
:P
*--------------------------*--------------------------------*

I'm feeling emo today.
Not in the "I want to die" kind of way.
But the dreamy, romantic sort with my head in the clouds.
Being in love is wonderful-
but love unrequited is painful.
I just read a friend's blog,
it makes me realize how small and fragile our worlds are.
I feel like watching Love Actually.
Christmas makes me feel warm and fuzzy.
I'm going to bake gingerbread men this year.
And perhaps a few suicidal ones to leave around the IDC office- you know-
frosted bandaged hands, noose around the neck, dagger in the stomach. All the things that IDC makes me wanna do.
And I said I wasn't in the "I want to die" state of emo.

He approached me first yesterday.
He approached me first last week too.
I had nothing to say.
Although I had some questions in mind but I forgot them.
Why does my brain always freeze over?
I would be happy to sit in silence.
But silence conveys a sense of awkwardness.
Silence only works in a sort of mutual trust and understanding of each other.
Take time to realize that your warmth is crashing down on in
That song is so sweet.

Yesterday I was different.
I look better with thick, long hair with side swept bangs.
Sudden change is refreshing- slow, gradual change goes unnoticed except to the discerning few.
I wore a wig yesterday- a dark chestnut- similar to my own hair colour- added an extra three and a half inches to my natural length and volume on all sides.
And people asked me if I got a hair cut.

He asked me if I changed my hair.
I told him it was fake (what's the point in layering on the pretence?)
He didn't believe me.
I said I'd pull it off if my hair wasn't so messy underneath.

I shook another guy's hand,
He said "hey good looking,"
Well that's what I think he said because I was a little confused.
Another girl said, "you look really cute today. You should do your hair like that more often."

Yet it's all artifice.
Sometimes we wonder what we'd look like if we looked like a better version of ourselves,
Yet when we reach our ideal state, it seems so unnatural because it's not a part of us.
So, am I supposed to wear this wig every Sunday?
If I grew my hair into that specific style, people wouldn't notice or appreciate it.
People like sudden change- it's refreshing- but gradual change is harder to see and appreciate.
Maybe that's why Hollywood is never satisfied.


I want to tell someone how I feel.
The giddiness and childish emotions that can't really be expressed in words.
She noticed yesterday, how observant she is.
She pulled me aside after the ring was broken, and asked me plainly.
All I could do was smile, and she pestered me for an answer,
I drew my breath and said yes.
She just kept laughing at me.

I want to feel at home here,
For what I thought was home now seems so foreign.
Like cold days and grey skies
Where's the sanctuary I once sought ought on those summer days?
Those friendships I wanted so badly,
have turned sepia.

Summer is long gone now,
November days, long nights.
And the warm smiles disperse as everyone cleaves their own path.
Goodbye CBC,
the more I look at you, the more distant you seem to become.
I've realized I can never have you fully. To know you fully.
For if the church is made up of the body of Christ,
And the body of Christ made up of a community of believers,
A little of you is always missing.
But I'm learning to let go
You can never have it all.


Will you meet me halfway?

When All is Said and Done, Tears Are All That's Left.

I long for this tranquility.

I'm so empty.
A husk.

I've just lost it. Completely.

Tell me, should a student have to fight for the education she is entitled to if she pays tuition?

You have to understand that our program is hard to manage since we have concentrations in at least two design fields, mine being fashion and sustainability, we have to take classes in different departments to fulfill our degree as well as core classes within our Interdisciplinary program. However the down side of this is that when it comes to course registration commences, which started today for juniors, us IDC students are not a priority within each department for they are more concerned with their own students than they are with us. We're parasites. Every semester, when course registration draws near, there's always some kind of fight for classes.
So yesterday I was rather alarmed since I only had 13/19 credits signed up for since I can't take any of the full fashion courses. After many attempts of getting into two fashion design courses within the graduate program (we are not allowed to take classes with the BFA Fashion kids), my roomie and I got rather desperate and sent out an email to half of the AAS/graduate department. I must admit we were a little harsh and disrespectful but we were really desperate just to hear a response beyond the normal "ask your department" or "sorry we're full- try again next year"

Anyway,the IDC head comes, as well as one of the admin who helps us as well as our teacher and the IDC head starts lecturing us how disrespectful it was, and how we should have talked to her first and not directly to the AAS graduate advisors. Apparently they got offended and took it to the dean to sort out (great). They began to say how we should think of taking an Independent Study class and that we are 'special' and we shouldn't 'settle' for traditional fashion courses- rather we should explore concepts that are beyond just technique and aesthetic value. The independent study course would allow us to create our own curriculum under the counsel of an advisor within our department (who we all think is completely oblivious and ill equipped). My teacher then turns to me as I sit at the back of the studio room, and says, "What do you think of that Samantha in your course scheduling?"

I just turned to look at her, put my head down on the desk and began to weep.

Not tearing, but shaking and sobbing right in front of all my classmates and department heads.

I didn't know what else to do but cry- all the words I tried to say express are just bouncing off walls. I've done all in my power to try and change my curriculum to encompass my two design concentrations but administration is making it so hard. They were tears of frustration, bitterness, anger and disappointment. I just want to graduate. Leave me alone. Don't tell me to do a Masters and take the AAS fashion courses then. I don't want to pay Parsons one more cent than I have to.

I'm just so tired of fighting. Fighting for classes that we should be entitled to- there are only about four of us within an option of five classes. How do they expect us design students to design good products when they can't even design a cohesive program for us? They tell us to be pro active in our courses and majors by trying to get into classes, but we are. And when we go try and talk to someone, they just tell us 'later' or 'sorry', so what can we do other than channel all our disappointment into words of complaint? And then they tell us we complain too much and that we should be more pro active. It's a vicious cycle.



As my two friends argued with the IDC head and the IDC head getting really pissed at us I just sobbed, crying out to God and asking Him why He was making it so difficult for me to get into courses, why it was so hard to try and do good with the education I'm getting and why He was just putting me through this. I'm reading 1 Peter again and finished James- all about enduring the suffering for Christ. But is this the suffering I must endure? Where is the line: when to be strong, take a stance and speak your mind- to fight for an education that we think we should get as students; and when should we just take a backseat and allow the admin to decide what they think we should do or not do? Have I been too aggressive in trying the first, while I should have done the latter? But the latter is so rigid and strict, it defeats the purpose of having a 'multidisciplinary education' if we are just to comply to whatever the admin says.

Eventually my roomie storms out of the room while the IDC advisor pulls me out- a limp, defeated shell of a person, and brings me upstairs to her office to talk. SHe holds me by the shoulders, insisting that I look at her while I was just shaking in tears.

I'm done with talking. I just sat as she told me what I should do instead of those fashion classes. I've chosen to do take the latter option- just let me graduate. I've lost my spirit. I've lost that desire to be creative. I've just lost that will and passion.

A little part of my died today- I just feel dull and physically exhausted.
I've lost that hope that things would get better.
I'm crushed.

God, I asked today that You take control of this whole schedule thing, is this Your way of doing things? Am I really so blind in trying to do things the way I want, that I can't see the bigger picture that Your will entails for me?

God, help me. I'm so tired.

Small Update

Doo doo doo doo....
Alex and Rin are coming down to visit! :D
I am so excited.

So I picked up my violin two days ago for the first time since spring. Oh man, it's been a while. But looking back now, I realize that all the experiences that I've been through in life since my high school violin lessons has transcended into my understanding of the music. Now I actually know how to let out the voice of the notes- for it to tell its own story. I know how painful it is to say goodbye and in turn, I try to evoke that sense of sadness, loss and longing through the strings of the violin.
Since I have no one to play Canon in D with, I've been playing to a video recording of my roomie and I last year. So sad. hahaha.

On Saturday night I stayed at home by myself, sewing a hat, playing violin and listening to opera:
Time to Say Goodbye

One of the most beautiful, virtuoso songs ever created. I bought it for the violin the other day. :D
If I'm already doing old lady/grandma things at this age, what will I do when I'm sixty!?! And I can't go clubbing then for I'll be frail and will resemble a raisin.

My roomie and I were talking: we're not sure how we're gonna live without each other- we're saying this because when one of us cracks a movie reference into the conversation, the other person totally understands the joke of it. Whereas if I did that, say in my small group, people just look at me funny. And we like doing the same things: I mean what other roomies draw each other's Victorian silhouettes, makes each others face out of clay, have a hat making night, dress up looking like 19th century gentlemen and photoshop themselves into a horse and carriage scene and watch portions of movies because they're just pure eye candy?
No one.
I'm afraid to move out of this place: we live in the denial of reality.

Sunday church service was good. ;)