I Should Join The Circus

Since my life is pretty much a constant Juggling Act.

There's never a perfect balance, and I'm in perpetual pursuit of achieving that balance. Then again, I know that if I were to ever to find a point of “perfect” balance, I’d simply muss it all up by tossing some impulsive tangent into the mix because too perfect is…well, too boring.

Now, logically, you’d think that experience would've made me better at all this juggling...

Only when has life ever been logical?

So, I’m starting to think my life is actually closer to a Rotational Act.

In which I focus on several things while putting others on the backburner. Then the next year, I’ll switch things up a little and devote more attention to what’s been lacking.

Now, again logically-speaking, you’d think that this whole rotational thing I’ve got going on is pretty darn clever, right?

But to be honest here, when am I ever logical?!

See, with an inherent tendency to procrastinate (because obviously I’m too good at this skill for it NOT to be natural) some things tend to get repeatedly left out until they’re just beggin’ for some love.

And, this year that thing is—hands down—my social life.

Okay, I haven’t turned into a hermit or disappeared. Although many people would beg to differ. But compared to previous years where I’ve progressively stretched myself thinner with more and more seemingly endless social engagements, this year I’ve finally put socializing on the backburner.

Because it’s quality and not quantity.

Which I always knew, but didn’t know (as I previously warned, I’m not always logical).

There’s only so many hours in a day I can spare and only one of me. Last year was an incredible year for me on multiple levels: I learned, crashed…got burned, and met some truly beautiful people. See, I’ve always had this whole “If I missed you, then I will make time to see you...and right this minute!” sort of mentality reserved for my friends.

Maybe it’s the calming effects of yoga or perhaps I’m just on a different rotation and don’t realize it yet, but that mentality has definitely changed.

Now I go with the flow more than ever before. And that flow has resulted in 2-3 hours of intense one-on-one’s with friends I might see only once every two weeks. Therefore, it’s almost a month into school, and believe it or not, I’ve STILL got friends I need to catch up with.

And if I haven't caught up with a friend yet, that doesn't imply the friendship doesn't mean as much...

Today, I finally had delicious 2-hr soy lattes with a really good friend (former boss and life-long DC&G'ers*). She was disappointed that I heard news of her engagement before she got to tell me in person, but this afternoon, she got to tell me even better news. It was wonderful to see her again—us INFJs talked about everything yet still had everything else left to talk about!!!

Sometimes, I feel this love for my friends that just bursts off into these fiery colors, the sort of colors that makes high-definition seem like old-school Technicolor.

Sometimes, I wonder how is it that I see the unstoppable whirlwind of changes in my friends’ lives but then for my own…my first thought is of a turtle torn between ducking behind her trusty tortoise shell and toying with the temptation of upgrading her "wheels" to turbo-charge.

And as much I trust my intuition, sometimes I question…

...is it really possible to know what (or who) is undeniably right for you in that first instant?
_____________________________________________________
*DC&G = dedicated lovers to organic dark chocolate and frozen grapes, preferably accompanied by some random French film.

Secret Weapon

I felt like a freshman all over again this past weekend. It was rather nice, in a reminiscent sort of way.

"Sooo, Jo...who looks the youngest?”

With all of them 3-4 years older than me, leave it to Zig to ask me such a hot-button question.

“Um,” I laugh as 9 pairs of male eyes instantly turn towards me to hear my response, “I’m gonna have to say Jarrod because he got a haircut. The short hair looks good, Jarrod.”

A chorus of “Ohhhhhh!” is heard around the grill.

Oh, boy. Some things never change.

Zig is still the same teasing big brother type I used to be sweet on. Dan (who loves it when I call him “Xiao Ma Ge!”) still shares food with me because that’s how it’s always been. David still drinks his beer like water and has the same rock-hard arms that can probably still cut my lip like it did one time during basketball. Gelek is still the most stylish of them all and the first to notice that I’ve started wearing earrings.

I grew up thinking how nice it'd be to have an older brother, and in these guys, I am fortunate enough to find a whole brotherhood.

Most of the old crew came down for the football game on Saturday. Though, it was mainly to see Chinabration*... After pretty much disappearing from the Asian organizations when I became a RA last year, Saturday night was sooo déjà vu for me. It's the first year I'm not a part of Chinabration. And I must admit, it was rather nice to sit back, relax and simply enjoy all the hard work I know firsthand goes into a theater production.

With me in the middle, the guys filled out an entire row in the auditorium. I was getting quite a few curious looks from the underclassmen since they didn't recognize the people I was with (the guys graduated after my freshman year). And with Zig giving me his play-by-play commentary of the show, and all the hilarious smack-talk that went on in between the scenes...

...I almost forgot how it felt to be the only girl in their midst.

It’s a sort of feeling I haven't felt in roughly three years. I missed it, but I think I miss the feeling of running the basketball courts with them every Friday night even more.

You see, I grew up playing pick-up games with my dad at our health club. My mom never permitted me to play for school because she was afraid I’d become too muscle-y (funny how my lack of arm muscle is a now a favorite topic for my friends to poke fun at!).

So, as a quick trigger-shot shooter who knew how to run the ball and was used to playing basketball with guys, I was their "secret weapon."

I was also the group's unofficial younger sister. The years hasn't seemed to change that position at all...

"What're you guys doing tonight?" I ask.

"After the show, we're going downtown for the after-party." Zig looks at me in puzzlement since typically for these occasions, it's a given I'd be escorted by them.

"Well, Vinh also came down this weekend. To visit Miki, and I promised Saturday night to them."

"Aren't they going to the after-party?"

"Mm, I think we're going...bowling."

"What?!"

I remember getting the very same reaction back then, too. Like, when I told the guys I was going bowling after playing basketball with them from 8 PM to midnight.

Yup! Some things just don't change. And, I like it very much.

________________________________________________
*annual Chinese culture show put on by organization I was Vice-Prez of my sophomore year

Confessions are Contagious

[To K of our Monosyllabic Trio]

I see you, and I see in your experience...myself.

My past no longer hurts me, but your present makes me feel the exact same hurt all over again.

It pains me like no other to see my friends suffer.

The whole "I don't completely not hate you for not realizing my friend is the best thing that will ever happen to you" sarcastic sparring is all joking fluff, as you well know. I can barely do one push-up, but believe me, my dear, next time I see him...there's no holding back, no giving him the benefit of the doubt for your sake. I'm revving to cut that boy to the bone with glacial stares and sharper words for what he's doing to you.

Did you know? Like you, I'm struggling not to write about the one subject I'd rather not.

I just delay publishing it.
___________________________________________________

[Two Weeks Ago]

Tunnel Vision Syndrome

I’m not a big fan of this self-imposed tunnel vision thing you’ve got going on here, missy.
It is NOT self-imposed if I can’t help it. There’s a reason I’ve got it still.
Yeah, keep tryin’ to tell yourself that.

How do you do it?

Teach me, I need to learn how to emulate this skill of yours. How the hell can you so casually drop the bomb on me like that? It’s happened before, so I oughta be able to handle it right?

But doesn’t mean that I’ll suddenly know how to reply in such a situation.

That I’ll be okay with you asking me if I’m seeing anybody else.

As my friend, you have the right to ask me anything you want about my life. As a former lover, as the guy who gave me up, broke my heart…you’ve lost the right to be in my love life. Yes, this includes asking me about it.

Why put me in the position where I don’t know how to say you can’t ask me this without straining our friendship?

Don’t refer to me, using old nicknames, as your anything. Don’t send me kisses.

No matter how cute, I didn’t want personal family photos sent to me of you holding a baby or sitting on a tiny tricycle with your toddler cousins.

That’s really unfair. Really.

We can joke, talk or whatever just like old times. Because you’re not near me. When I know I can’t see you. Touch and smell you. Because you can’t be here to hold me.

You forget these are new times for us…for me. I thought we already established that?

I’ve realized that it’s a good thing, how you can’t be here for me. I admit I’m still that bit afraid of our past history. That explosive chemistry, that giddy feeling. I don’t want to touch it. Don’t want it to touch me. I want you to stay in the Past because my getting to this Present was hard enough as it is.

I’m ready for you, to stop haunting me.

I can share our memories with friends if it helps them. I can even laugh about the past, good times are good times regardless…

But I’m doing better now. In my comfort zone, I can give back to you from this safe distance of afar. It allows me to safely ride out my Tunnel Vision Syndrome without you further confusing things.

I’m starting a new beginning for myself, and I refuse to let you pull me along, down.

While I do miss your company terribly… isn’t just terrible how glad I am that I won’t be seeing you for a very, very long time.

If even then.

It quite possibly might be the reason we’ve stayed friends.
___________________________________________________

[Today, laughing my pants off at Deet's with the V of our Monosyllabic Trio]

Thanks for the Memories

It’s a really weird feeling.

I saw your ex-girlfriend today. Second time this week now and I’m pretty sure that it’s her.

Granted I’ve only known what she looks like from the pictures you showed me that one time last year. We never ran into her in person, but that’s probably because last year I always had tunnel vision. If we were walking somewhere together, people had to call out my name for me to notice them.

I get the feeling she knows who I am. The feeling’s not very…friendly.

I didn’t realize, or at least it didn’t sink in, that she still went here until you mentioned how you ran into her sometime last spring. I forgot you mentioned how she was staying here an extra year.

It’s weird that I see her now that you’re gone.

I have the urge to write you an email and tell you this…about how weird it is to know sordid details of her relationship with you, and yet not know her. I think you’d appreciate the amusing irony.

But I refuse. Because you finally got the hint this summer that I don’t like to hear about your ex. Ever. No matter how brief the mention, even if it’s all bad things, even when you’re unintentionally comparing how I had much more self-esteem, more independence, more maturity, more fun than her. I feel sorry that her insecurity in herself caused her to be so manipulative, caused her to cheat on you, caused her to say she still has feelings for you even after you guys broke up.

I felt sorry that your baggage with her spilled over into our pseudo-relationship last year, that I had to unknowingly battle all the wariness you had of me because of what she did to you.

And I feel it’s kinda funny how I couldn’t help but compare myself to her today.

Damn straight, it’s a pretty weird feeling.

Oddly, I’m not jealous at all. But I feel like I should be.

You told me recently how you haven’t found someone nearly as cool as me to hang out with, and I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t know what to say because I couldn’t return the same sentiment. I do miss you, but not in that way anymore.

You send me kisses while asking me about my dating life, and I have to wonder about your motivation for doing so. I tactfully evade answering your question about whether I’m meeting any nice guys with a joke about how my really kick-ass water bottle is the one attracting more attention from guys.

You broke my heart…is it any wonder that my heart chose to start in a new direction?

For the first time, it looks like my heart is one step ahead of my mind. Seems like my tunnel vision is totally mental.

Bygones really do become bygones.

Thanks for the memories.

P is for Procrastination

You know a meme is really good when you Procrastinate it for over a week.

See, I’ve always found it somewhat easier to see myself in retrospect. To reflect on what I learned from the Past, creating a bridge of experience to the Present.

Then, it feels like I’ve achieved...Progress.

I ought to confess, last week I googled “7 P’s meme tag” to see if I could be motivated out of this procrastination slump. Apparently, the 7 P’s—like any meme I guess—are supposed to be a list of short definitions explaining how each word relates to me personally.

S’cuse me? Just one sentence?!

I love doing memes and all, but it's a Paradox that revels in screwing me over! I’m a blogger, which means I like to write…

...A LOT. Brevity is rather elusive in my world of words.

Ah, well. I never claimed to be one to follow the rules anyhow.

Erina, Rolando— You two are so Patient, thanks for the tag!

My 7 P’s

PASSION

It’s ironic, almost to the point of embarrassment, how much this word (in the singular form) can scare the hell out of me. When I seek out passion, in myself and in others. When I deem it absolutely necessary to have. When I fiercely believe that life—without our driving passions to flood and magnificently blur the edges—would dull and empty.

Yeah, I find it’s pretty damn ironic when I define who I am by my passions, by being passionate.

Because ask me to define one passion?

I get antsy.

I find it difficult to name one because it feels as if I’d be excluding everything else I've a passion for. However, after looking back, I saw something that has stayed consistent all through the years. I saw how my passion for people connects everything I've ever been passionate about or for.

Passion is an emotion that should be present in all aspects of life. And for me, passion means being able to give. Whether it’s to my family and friends or to any endeavor I choose to undertake. To have a loving passion and compassion for the girl I was all those yesterdays.

For who I am, today. For the woman I will be, one day.

For all the people I am lucky enough to encounter.

PURPOSE

Yikes, another tough word. It’s like asking, “What is the meaning of life, hm?” It’s always going to be something different for everyone. Yet we all need a purpose. We live purposefully because it gives our actions, choices…meaning.

So, what is mine?

It changes as I grow and develop. With that said, no matter how much I change, I am always the same person.

So, I think the most important purpose to have in life is being true to myself.

PURSUIT

I am always in constant pursuit of the unknown.

I accept that I won’t always find answers. Actually, sometimes I prefer it that way. You know how they say people want what they can’t have. I pursue for a confirmation of my own experience.

I pursue because I’m afraid of missing out on what life has to offer me.

POSITION

Daughter, older sister, friend, student, blogger.

I'd also say girlfriend, but I’m single. I wonder, would it be sort of weird to say future girlfriend, then? Hm, yes. Oh, well. That's who I am...er, will be...for some guy. ;)

PUMMELING

Time.

I really don’t treat it seriously enough. For as much as I attach an importance to time, I value people much more. In the blink of an eye, I can put everything on hold for the moment, a moment that can last anywhere from two minutes to 2 hours. Maybe this is an inherent tendency for procrastinators?

Either way, I never seem to have enough of it.

PROGRESS

Like a turtle, but I don’t mind! Slow as they may be, turtles live long. ;)

PERSONALITY

Extroverted introvert.

Whew!

See why it took me forever to finish this tag?

I like to think that by the time I got to my seventh P, I mastered my tendency to be verbose (hell yeah, did you see how I summed up my personality with only 2 words!). But truthfully, it probably has more to do with being laidback (read: lazy) than anything else...

Well anyhow, I couldn't choose 5 people, like I'm supposed to. But I figured since I already broke the one-sentence "rule" for this meme...what's another???

7 wasn't enough for me, I had to overachieve and torment tag 8 people because my curiosity is sometimes so very demanding like that:

Kath
Dan
Jon
Daniel
Brookem
Brent
Cooper
Kevin

(muahahaha.)

To Be Honest

I will drive you crazy, with all my stubbornness. Don’t think you can easily change my mind. Trust me, there will be times you won’t be able to understand me because there are days when I don’t even understand myself, too.

I will utterly confuse you, all the while understanding you more completely than before. If you look closely, you’ll see how I will overwhelm you…patiently. With unconditional support.

I will surprise you, tease you, and some days just be in plain awe of you. You are my friend and family, my equal and hero.

I will become more introverted the closer, the more...you mean to me. Be bold and refuse to let me pull away. Know I’ll do the same for you.

I will accept you for who you are. Flaws, quirks and all. Tolerance and loyalty, JK Rowling said of friendship.

I will spoil you with my attention because I want to show you how much you mean to me. Share my food, share laughter so generous heads turn…share myself.

I will love without asking for anything in return. Because that’s the only way I know how. I won't love you because I need you.

I will love you because I believe in you. I will believe in you because I know you. And, I'll know you because I will understand to appreciate you, and all you give.

I will frustrate you. Actually, you’ll frustrate me, too. We’ll frustrate each other to the point where some days I’ll be hard-pressed to even like you.

I will walk my own path, alongside yours. If you would hold my hand. It’s going to take time and effort, for me.

To be honest...it’s not going to be easy. I can’t promise you the world, but I can make your wildest dream come true.

Because I’m worth it. So are you.

VT Concert Craziness

WARNING: this post may will contain incoherent babbles of repeated gushings.

Apparently, it just takes some killer guitar playing, and I'll swiftly revert back to being a starry-eyed teenager all over again.

The Concert for Virginia Tech in Lane Stadium was beyond anything I could ever have imagined.

The stage, HUGE! Lighting? Absolutely breath-taking.

That it was all set up in 2 days? Crazy, indeed.

It could be argued that since I generally do things without expectations, in a sense, it ought to be quite easy to exceed them... Though, I definitely did not expect the concert to be over 5 hrs long.

So long, in fact, that I still can't believe we walked out on Dave Matthews.

I know, I know.

I'm sorry!!!

Dave Matthews, please know that I love your band and especially adore your performance style. Really, I do! It's just that I had been up and about since 8 AM. You must understand, after thoroughly enjoying 5 hours--no matter how exhilarating and soul-shaking--by 11 PM, I was rather drained.

But drain oh-so worth it!

My ears went gloriously numb. I swear the bass of the drums could be heard reverbating in the core of my body.

Then again, that also might've been my stomach growling from hunger.

Jeez, I don't know how the freshman do it. Must be the aid of alcohol. Seriously, though. While it's a concert in a football stadium, it doesn't mean it's like football where you pre-game.

It's a recovery concert.

You don't get so drunk you're arrested. Sheesh, people!

Anyhow. I really enjoyed watching Dave Matthews Band perform. And, how utterly enamored I am with John Mayer after this! You could tell that they really enjoyed performing together. All the instruments, saxophone, drums, guitar.

...speaking of the guitar--my god! John Mayer's hands are amazing.

I repeat. Uh-mazing.

In my teens, I never quite understood the female obsession with male guitarists. For some reason, it's different now that I'm in my twenties.

Let me tell you, do I understand it now. Completely.

See, I've always enjoyed listening to John Mayer and had a rough idea of what he looked like, but I've never really seen him. I like to fall in love with the music and voice first. Because if it doesn't happen that way, sometimes I'll get to wondering...

...do I like this artist because of his talent or because he's so damn cute?

So, really it shouldn't come as a surprise that when I saw and heard Bob Reynolds (touring with John Mayer) for the first time last night, I was a goner.

Boy, am I charmed by this smooth and suave saxophonist.

For your viewing pleasure (though mainly, for my own =P), here are some pictures of him below:

My heart is an old-fashioned romantic, I adore jazz. Totally in deep.

Hm, and my voice is slightly hoarse--it could sound sexy...could also make me sound like a guy. I woke up this morning thirty minutes before I was to be at Judicial to do my office hours, and had no time for a shower!

Which means I'm rocking two braids...

And, my Fisherman's Daughter hat.

Ohh, my friends know this hat well.

Yeah, it has its own story. Don't worry, it'll be told one of these days.

Why It's Different

I've so many topics I want flesh out into full-fledged posts... but I can't make this a side note. Neither can I wait until later.

I can't afford to give into my defense-coping mechanism this time around now that I recognize it.

April 16th. It's been a frequent topic of late in my life.

Particularly since this week we got sent 2 Security Notice emails on what seems to be a continuing incident. I know exactly how I'd have felt if this happened before 4/16. I would've thought, "Well, that's random and jeez, what a weirdo!"

I'd have shrugged it off in the next heartbeat.

But I can't do that any more. My guard can't help but be up, and I'm waiting...for what? A tentative fear flirts in the back of my mind. Because nothing is ordinary, even as life goes on... Life is different.

For the record, I've complete faith that all the different police forces working together are doing their utmost to protect our community. They're every inch deserving of our respect and gratitude. I remember the Morva incident last Fall (also a Monday) on the first day of school. How some students took the opportunity of cancelled classes to hang out and play volleyball while the police were searching for Morva. Granted it was a beautiful sunny day, and Morva was quickly labeled off as that crazy kid off his rocker. I understand we are college students, and simply tend to go with the flow, even if it's somewhat bizzare. In fact, Facebook groups along the lines of "I survived Morva" were already being created!

But all that pissed me off. I felt it was so very disrespectful. An officer (Officer Sutphin) was killed early that morning while protecting our safety. It was my first week as a Resident Advisor (really, all things imaginable and un-imaginable happened to Res Life last year), and I was thankful my residents respected my wishes, our police, and the university lockdown.

I remember going to Officer Sutphin's memorial service Thursday.

How in making sure all my residents were okay with what happened, I had forgotten to make sure I was. There I was sitting in the pew, just listening. Honoring his life. Then I couldn't stop crying and crying, realizing belatedly that I forgot to bring tissues. It hadn't occurred to me that I might've needed them.

This is how I cope. I need to be forced to let it all out. To deal with the aftermath repercussions.

The day of April 16th, a girl came knocking outside of our dormitory's exit nearest to my room. Her boyfriend had been shot and he was hiding with her friend behind the tennis courts next to Cassell. In the face of all her extreme distraught, I became extremely calm by default. She thrust her phone into my hands. I verified her boyfriend's location. She wanted to know if she could take him to hospital and would the police prevent her since they had blocked off all streets (like I said, she was really and understandably distraught). The moment I said of course, that she can and should...she was running back to the tennis courts.

I never got her name.

My cell phone wasn't working of course, so I used the campus phone to notify the police. Then, it was time to let my supervisor know (she was in another building) and that's when all the adrenaline I had put on pause started rushing in, full-forced. My heart was running a mile a minute. And, I was pratically incoherent, stuttering like a broken record over sentences, as I told her what had happened.

After April 16th, I refused to watch or read any media for rest of school. I had residents to take care of, friends to simply be with. Classes were cancelled for the week, but I had duty the night of the Candlelight Vigil. I also took emergency duty for one of my staff, so I only went home for 2 days that week. I didn't mind at all, in fact I wanted it to be that way. I was in the mode, you see. A zombie. Supportive and empathetic, yes, but a walking zombie nonetheless.

Basically, I didn't fully mourn until I finally came home in May.

I appreciate all the positive changes that have resulted because of our university's tragedy (though, still skeptical of spending $22 million on a building). Even the frenzy of playing blame-game has its benefits because when people ask questions, seek answers...holes in the system are receiving due attention.

As a collective, my friends and I have recovered from the worst of the aftermath. But we are still recovering. We are comforted to see our mixed, complex feelings reflected in each another's eyes.

Unable to explain. Just understood.

April 16th is a part of my subconscious. It's a memory, lessons I will carry for the rest of my life. However, the warning alerts about this a guy around campus brings that subconscious to the forefront, into my conscious thoughts. It makes me want to go into that mode again.

Thankfully, writing can be a form self-therapy.

In Transit

Helplessness

is a transitory condition...

The ability to stand and walk on one's own feet is the permament and common one.

-Erich Fromm-

Self-doubt is a frequent visitor to my life.
Although, not because of a lack of self-esteem. I think it stems more from an acknowledgement for the uncertainty of Life.
Of being only human.
I can and will confidently (or some might call it young bravado or what have you) walk my own path. Yet that doesn't mean I won't stubbornly question each decision every step of the way!
For looking back in regret is something I'd rather not suffer.
I much rather understand (and admit) that even if I could go back...be given the same situation in the same point in my life, I wouldn't have done it any other way. Probably couldn't have, either. I live to experience, and hopefully, I learn. So I strive to improve, and thus, I seek.
Ergo, I end up with some pretty freakin' ridiculously tough questions...and well, as you might imagine, some very unwelcome periods of self-doubt as well.
~~~

"You look different."
"Really?! What do you mean?"
"I saw you walking in front of me, and I thought, 'Is that Joanne? No, that's not her...wait! It is!"
I laugh. "Yoga must've really done something to me, huh? Do you know, I'm down to the same weight I was last Thanksgiving break when I got food poisoning. Remember that?"

[I lost 12 lbs in 3 days, it was NOT fun. Particularly strong in my memory is how I could only watch as my family merrily wolfed down sushi and other Japanese goodies at Narita Airport in Tokyo. Boy, was I sorely tested.]

"Yes, I do. But, wow! Your body shape has changed somewhat...it's different." She's in her fitness-trainer-mode now (meaning she's giving me the head-to-toe inspection), "You look very healthy."
"Well, thanks," I reply before admitting with a chuckle, "I'm also a LOT happier now!"
She nods. "It shows."

~~~
It's true.
Honestly, three months ago? I was only 6 lbs more but was also lugging around this hefty load of invisible baggage. Or, so I thought was invisible. For my more astute friends (and immediate family members, esp. my mom), some things showed despite my putting-up-of a brave front.
Although, it now seems to have been more of avoidance and denial than any thing brave. You know, just like how there are some things you can't run from. That you shouldn't run from. That remain there until you finally work up the gumption to confront it.
At last, I think I can fully understand why every single one of my friends (female and male alike) did not like my former...um, what do I call him when I can't simply say his name (as I do to friends who knew him)? Well, psuedo ex-boyfriend will have to do.
So lately, I've been riding this spurt of re-ignited self-love and renewed appreciation for all it's worth. Besides being in that honeymoon phase where I'm falling in love with my friends all over again after summer separation...for the FIRST time in my life, I really love, love, love my classes.
I know! Doesn't that sound weird?
And, I've got yoga at least twice a week worked conveniently into my schedule. I've been gauging my body's response, paying attention to what I eat because I truly care. I want to continue enjoying that feeling of doing something good for my body...mind and spirit.
Now don't get me wrong. I've still the usual run-of-the-mill worries, and some latent ones, if my dreams are any indication (what? being a pirate king's daughter?!).
But, I'm not as...anxious.
I worked hard to land on my feet. And here I am, finally seeing how I can use them to walk across new possibilities.
It's funny how I realized in yoga class today that hey!...they actually looked quite pretty!
(sometimes, I'm just so weird like that)

What's The Rush

Am I missing something? Why are all my friends getting engaged?!

I thought I had a couple more years before that started happening.

Oh, wait. It has been a couple more years.

Still, it feels surreal. Really, have I already matured to the age where getting a boyfriend can translate into getting a fiancé?

Jeez, Time flies. It seemed like only a short 2 months ago, I finally was able to legally drink.

Oh, wait. That was 2 months ago. So, what's the rush?

I'm mulling over this particular question because today I had the pleasant surprise (read: hour-long detour) of "yapping it up" with Holly.

Now let me digress for a moment—

As I am utterly compelled to express just how much I ADORE this spunky curly-haired sensation. We are so different on paper, but in my hearts of hearts...she is like an older sister. I value her judgement as much as I enjoy making her laugh. When chatting so intensely that we forget our ice cream bars are melting, I am ever more reassured that I have not made certain realizations too late...but, in fact, am making such decisions later in my life at the right time. For me. Whether it's academic, familial, health-wise, or personal. She is that kind of an inspirational friend. She's that supportive. That real.

Well, we finally got around to saying good-bye when Holly suddenly asked me,

"You probably know about Megan, right?"

"Yeah!" Then I pause when I realize haven't had time to catch up with Megan since my summer social-life hiatus, "Wait, what...?"

"She's engaged."

[insert flip-out session of surprised happiness]

After recovering, I exclaimed, "I knew this was going to happen! Only I didn't expect it quite so soon."

"I know, I could tell she really wanted this last year."

I nod. Jim's not only a good man, but really good for Megan. Actually, they're really good for each other. I clearly remember the whole saga of last year, especially crying tears of joy over his sweet letter of confession (finally!) to Megan. I swear, Res Life staff last year should've been part of its own TV drama series.

Anyhow. Apparently people get engaged when I re-initiate my social life the first week back to school. Megan takes the personal tally count to a whopping 3. Which doesn't seem like a lot, but when you've never had a friend (or cousin for that matter since I'm on the older side of that generation spectrum for my family) be engaged, it practically seems like a quantum leap!

I mean it is definitely extremely heartwarming to see several of my good friends find It with someone. I'm not exactly sure how to explain what that is since I've never experienced it myself. However, I've seen it happen to people I care very much about. I'm seeing it happen to one of my friends, even though she doesn't know it herself!

And, I'm lucky enough to see it in my parents' own marriage.

Despite all of my parents' still teenage-angst-like fights (you'd think they'd tone it down a tad after passing fifty...maybe there's something else to be said for college sweethearts). Admittedly, it does make for some high expectations. Though only because I know finding, creating, living that high of love is actually possible. That it's worth the wait, and search.

And, okay! I'll admit that a part of me is a bit envious. It's that kind of good-natured envy I have for all my friends who always knew right off the bat exactly what they wanted to do with their life (career-wise). But of all of Life's lessons, of the most valuable is learning how to accept patience. Developing a yoga mind has helped a LOT with this.

So most people are really surprised to discover I've never had a boyfriend.

And, that until last fall, I had never been kissed.

I mean, even my kid sis—five years younger than yours truly—had her first kiss before me (some poor boy named Billy is on my Protective Older Sister Watch list). Looking back in 20/20 hindsight, it probably has something to do with me being a tomboy who'd punch any boy who tried to peck me at recess and then me being the oblivious bookworm nerd who attracted guys too shy to make a move worth following-up on... Although, it being middle and high school might've helped explain it.

As of right now, I know I'm only just starting to further realize (and accept) the complexities of my own self. So, I'm currently satisfied with—if not a bit apprehensive of—remaining patient until right timing meets opportunity.

So, my lucky friends. I'm all ears...who's wedding cake ought I plan on eating next?

A Widgetal Affair

I must confess, I have a thing for widgets.

It's a lot like love, but I'll be real here. It's a helluva lot more like obsession.

See, I've been tweaking my blog layout since...well, since I started it. This is why I claim it's a lot like love. In turning all things I love doing into a continuously active process, I'm celebrating my passion for it. And, I'm rewarded (and fueled) by ever new discoveries. Granted, there are those days when I desire to ruthlessly murder certain widgets.

Fortunately, those days are far and few in between. *knock on wood* However, as can be imagined this "celebrating" led to quite an accumulation of widgets all over the freakin' place!!! Header, footer, left and right sidebars, in posts--if I liked it, you better believe I'd fit it...somewhere. Except I never stray far from my Buddhist roots, as laidback as they may be. So, I realized I had to start trimming my blog's unnecessary fat. Er, at the very least, relocating the fat.

For a useful guideline, I recommend checking out 50 tips compiled by Skellie.

Anyways, there I was merrily trimming away extra fat. Every single day this week I was making progress. At the risk of sounding like a weight-loss testimonial, it felt grrrrreat!

Then along came Uniqlock. Correction: along remained Uniqlock.

Now, I can't explain why in the world I should keep that widget at the top of my left sidebar. All I know is that I absolutely adore it!

Adore. It.

I must thank my new friend Jon, who's probably thinking, "What?! I don't even have Uniqlock!"

True, but Jon did a spotlight post on SnapClap that cracked me up so much I followed the link he provided. There on SnapClap's side bar, I became mesmerized by the choreographed dancers. Again, I can't explain why I am so fascinated.

I could only think of 3 reasons that might possibly explain my awe:

1. Watching them, I almost...almost...felt compelled to try ballet (keep in mind yours truly is a ballet teacher's worst nightmare come true).
2. They all look the same!!!
3. Each girl has the kind of Asian hair I don't.

But aside from all that it's basically just a clock!

I don't NEED a clock widget cluttering up my left sidebar. Time is irrelevant on the internet where people come from all over the world. It'd be an utter waste of space on my blog.

Well...

Except for Uniqlock, of course. Remember, just don't ask me why.

By the way, is "widgetal" even a word? Or should I just play it off as new Jo Jargon. ;)

When Addictions Get Contagious

Spread the Joy, baby.

I was planning to write this other entry about my random musing during my classes today, but I discovered really, really good news, which naturally took priority. A must-share-NOW! kind of news.

Not earth-shattering as I'm making it out to be, as it is to me. It's the blogs of two of my very good friends.

So in the order of my discoveries:

First. My good friend Kath has her own blog, which she started because (bare with my momentarily inflated ego) I did way back when... Okay, not so long ago and more like only a couple of months ago (if even), but it feels like I've been blogging for ages upon ages--it's become such an intergral part of my life and daily thought process, you know? I'm totally addicted to blogging, ha. That's why once I publish this entry, I'm hopping over to catch up with her entries at Sketching the Flow. And not just because I admire her so much or because I dearly love her sarcastic wit and downright lethal puppy-eyes look. I only know how to do the harmless puppy-eyes, definitely must work on finding my Inner Lethal...I swear, hers can melt glaciers and cut glass. Honest.

Second. I knew that Vy started one at the start of summer, but she refused to show despite much pleading (ya punk) until she finished tweaking. But she finally confessed that at her rate, her blog would end up never making its debut. I mean, it's fittingly called Slackholic™ for a reason, right.

On an unrelated note, this evening I got an email from... Well, put it this way, a blast from the past. However, like I said, I've already set time aside tonight for blogging (not emailing).

And, I'm not changing my plans. Some things can wait. I learned that this summer.

See how much I've...changed?

Cancers Cannot Stay Hermits

Because of friends.

From: Vy
Date: Sunday, August 19, 2007 7:09 PM
To: Joanne
Subject: where my cow at?

It’s unsettling how I have to keep checking your blog to make sure you’re still alive. More so when I have to relay that discovery to others (Vinh, Miki, Kath) so that they too are reassured of your living state.

FIX THAT.

Oh, she cracks me up (besides being totally right on this one).

Yeah, FYI of another personal quirk: I become a recluse whenever I go home.

People who know this about me are close or good friends. And people who don't...well, they get used to it. Family matters are always a priority and become the main focus when I'm home. Back to juggling academics, extracurriculars, and my college social life, I'm currently re-adjusting to fill all the extra free-time I've got since I'm no longer an RA. I almost feel guilty for being so relieved...and in a sense, liberated.

Anyhow. It seems when break is long--as summer is--I tend to get too settled in my comfortable crab shell (LOLs). Especially since in the beginning I'll maintain a high contact with my family to ease the transition, it'll take awhile before I fully emerge.

No lie, it usually takes a month or two before even I start using AIM again.

Funny because it's not like I'm this shy introvert--you're reading the blog of a girl who grew up in 8 different states! I've pretty eclectic tastes and interests, which is probably why it took me so long to decide what to do with my life (besides raising a family). So that paired with a sincere smile makes it easy to strike up conversation with anyone. I believe I'm more so of what Myer-Briggs termed an extrovert-introvert (INFJ). Even though I took it in high school, I think it's still fairly accurate.

I'll re-take Myer-Briggs just for the hell of it one of these days when I'm again bored, restless, and curious. A dangerous combination, I tell ya as I'm still recovering from the OCD-impluse I had last night...

...where I did face recognition on MyHeritage for 15 different photographs. Possibly 20!?

Chronically Late

It’s almost been a week since this surprising voicemail, I know.

Trust me, writing about what happened afterwards is definitely not the only thing I’ve been putting off these past couple of days. I’m pretty damn sure I'm pissing Zig off (the older-brother-like friend I used to be sweet on, mentioned here in Houdini's Act III) by having yet to respond to his two voicemails left this week. And, I’ve yet to respond to Olivia’s kind email, or yap it up with Holly as I promised last week.

I guess now it’d be a good time to stop procrastinating. To ‘fess up.

He actually called again the next day while I was taking a nap. And, I made the split-second decision to pick it up.

So, we chit-chatted. For FORTY MINUTES.

I’ve been mulling over it (as per usual), and was trying to figure out…yes, it seems to have taken the ENTIRE week…how I felt about it since my initial reaction was decidedly good, with only a tad(?) bad.

When I finally felt ready to write some semblance of coherent thought (and even possibly a tentative self-summation of the current situation).....

.....BAM! I received another postcard from him today.

SNAIL MAIL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As if you can't tell by the overuse of exclamation points, I LOVE snail mail. Which I gushed (and thanked him for) via email when his first postcard surprised me sometime late-June.

On the down side, I’m back to being unsure yet of how I feel. Interestingly, my efforts at moving on have made headway, but...something is still bothering me.

I'm not sure what exactly, but given my track record, it usually ain't something good. That much I'm at least sure of.

Case of the Common Schoolgirl's Crush

I am an expert at developing crushes.

I always have those secret crushes where some random guy is my harmless eye-candy. You know, that funny lab partner with both brains and mesmerizing eyes to back his wit or the cutie at the coffee shop who accompanies my 16oz Earl Grey with the most adorable smile.

I am also the queen of one-sided crushes. I know those so well that a part of me is used to being the person with more feelings.

He said to me one time, in a moment of shockingly insightful observation of my character, “I think deep down you’re afraid of someone liking you.” I couldn’t quite form a coherent reply, not just because I was surprised by his perceptiveness, but also because I knew him to be somewhat right.

Having lived in 7 different states growing up, I tend to get along with most anybody with a friendly smile…but I had to learn the hard way (several painful times) that there is a decided difference between acquaintance, friend, good friend, and close friend. I stopped calling closer friends ‘best friends’ ever since elementary school—my best friends in life have been and will always be my sister and mother. Nonetheless, my closest friends today are just as special, have been chosen wisely, and are unconditionally treasured...

When it’s decided, I give my all. So, I know that in a romantic relationship, I’d also be all or nothing. It would be like my closest friendship PLUS my heart, and then some. It'd be a sort of unconditional giving that's equal, if not (in some ways) more than, the love I reserve for my family.
My #1 is...well, you know...my #1.

That knowledge scares the living daylights out of me.

It shakes me to the core.

Updated

I'm almost done revamping the site.

Quite proud of the minor changes so far. And, I renamed (yet again) the blog to Laidback Buddhist--I promise I'll settle on one, um...eventually. Taking it all step by step, ha!

Interesting side note,
A certain annonymous commentator left some comments (for this post) pretending to be the guy I'm currently working out my old, unhealthy feelings for, the guy I'm trying to move on from. I know, life can be *so* RANDOM.

But that's not what struck me as interesting... Instead it surprised me was how it protective and immediately defensive I got of him. It was like, yeah I'll sometimes call him an asshole when I think he's acting like one (because I know he actually ISN'T one), but don't ever let me hear you call him that!

Even to myself, I feel a tad ridiculous, huh? Ah, well. I'm just like that, fiercely loyal to my friends.

Plus, a lot of my relationships (both female and male) are indeed, very complex, but I've found that it's the good and the bad that bring the friendship closer. Nobody's perfect. Haha, and most times my closest friends don't understand how I can be good friends with certain people (like him), but I just shrug and say, "My friendship is with that person, and our friendship is not with you." There are some things that can't be explained to a third person...and sometimes, I don't see the need to or perhaps, want to.

And, you'd be surprised, while many of my friends seem completely uncompatible on the surface, I think a lot of them have much more in common than they initially thought. It's whether you're willing to see it. Or, have someone else see that part of you. As Confucius said, "Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it."

But, I'll eventually devote a post to explaining the basis of our friendship to the complex ambiguities of our...non-relationship of a relationship. I haven't yet because I don't want to touch that until I'm ready...when I'm sure diving into exploring those feelings of the past won't make me want to go back to it, you know?

Time to sleep. I took a 5-hour medical exam today and boy, am I WIPED.

Left Unsaid

Why didn’t you say anything?

I didn’t feel the need to. I mean, these things happen. And, there’s no point in going out of my way to remind every person who forgot that they forgot. If they care that they forgot, they probably already feel bad enough as it is. For me to then say something is rude and…honestly, kinda OCD-like, you know?

Don’t worry, I’m really bad at remembering, too, except for my VIPs and family members. Even then, I was a week late for Stephen’s (which he kindly rubbed in my face when he wished me happy bday, on time, haha the punk). B/c my friends cut me slack, I know to be tolerant of forgetfulness here and there.

Although, gotta say…you’ve set quite the record for belatedness...

I wonder. Now that I know what I’ll say if really asked....if I’ll ever get the chance to even say it, you know?

Houdini's Act III

The Love Life

In my 21 years thus far, I’ve fallen for four guys worth mentioning—the degree varying from first crush to first lover.

At age 12.

Red-haired, with freckles, amazing green eyes and an absolute wicked sense of humor. My first crush. We rode the bus to Safety Harbor middle school every morning. I was the bookworm who (yes, voluntarily) sat in the front seat behind the bus driver while he…? He was the rowdy upstart who got moved to the front seat behind the bus driver. This boy could tell stories that I’m pretty sure even Ms. Bus Lady cracked a smile at every now and then. He was charming in a very sweet way, and he liked to teasingly flirt with me. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear he grew up to be a heartbreaker, but the kind you just can’t get mad at. Of course, the crush faded and was replaced by others when we moved from Florida to New Orleans the following year, but my memory of that first crush remains vivid.

At age 17.

I met him over a summer leadership conference my sophomore summer in high school. We kept in touch throughout my junior (his senior) year and before I knew it, I somehow developed this enormous crush on a guy several states away. It was honestly the most idealistic form of affection. There was the usual banter over AIM and sweetly teasing emails, silly pictures sent back and forth and 3-hr long phone calls (talking even in Chinese and singing songs to each other. Yes, we were dorks of the same kind). Call it puppy love through the intellectual mind. Then he was off to college and I was wrapping up my own senior year. Our naive fervor for each other ended amiably and naturally, so our friendship was kept. I love how over the years, we maintained a comfortable bond. Granted we don’t talk a fraction the amount we used to, but I’m always pleasantly surprised by how easy it is to still strike up conversation with him over the phone on occasion. I take it as a good sign for our friendship that I still laugh until my cheeks hurt.

At age 19.

I remember the first time I felt myself being drawn into his easy-going humor and natural charisma (after I got over the initial shock of "Holy crap! It's an asian guy over six feet"). He went on to become the big brother I always wished I had, even though I’m so glad he wasn’t really for I was totally sweet on him. He already had a girlfriend (who is an awesome girl, by the way) that year we first met. They separated the next year when he graduated and started working. But we all keep in touch. In fact, he and I continue to have the laid-back friendship we had from the start. Funny how these matters of the heart operate, I thought my warm affection towards him engaged all, if not most of, my feelings. That it meant my heart was safe for the time being. I truly believed it and thought that way until one day I suddenly gave my heart away to the person I least expected.

At age 20.

It’s odd to talk about our past history together when it’s pretty fresh, when how our friendship will develop is still left to be seen. So, I can’t offer any I’m-past-walking-down-this-road reflection or insight. But, the basics don’t change. Blonde hair, blue eyes...he was the first kiss who went on to become my first lover.

Looking back, I realized they all have several things in common. (1) I was always quick to smile around them and they could effortlessly make me laugh, (2) Each had a good heart, (3) We had excellent friendships, (4) They all pushed me to be a better person or to try new things, and (5) I knew that one day my romantic feelings for them would dissolve into something platonic.

Bullet 5 is the trigger-shot one…
And, it leads to the third disappearing act:

[3.] To cutting off my romantic attachment with a friend. See here’s the thing, I can control my emotions but I can’t control which emotions I feel. He fit the role for my escapist tendencies perfectly, in other words (and in the words of all the people who cared for me), he was bad for me. We are fantastic friends, we had this sexual tension that loved to flare up, and we each had our own issues. He is great as a lover, but disastrous as a romantic interest. I knew this, and this is probably the reason I felt it safe to let go. I loved to escape into what I had found with him because I knew it would end.

He’s currently in Europe for the next two semesters and our friendship is at its best because there is zero chance of the physical chemistry blurring things. We are back to being great friends, and only that. I can’t make him my escape again because I only escape into what I expect to end. And, I’m not willing to let our friendship to end. So, I better get my act together and start seeing him not as an escape but treating...getting used to seeing him as a friend.

However rare true love may be, true friendship is even rarer – La Rochefoucauld

Act I - The Johnson Ladies
Act II - The Academia Nutcase

Houdini's Act I

The Johnson Ladies

All things come and go.

And, I love escaping into the moments. So much good fun and unexpected joy was brought into my world by my girls and others. It's going to be hard, hard, hard to say good-bye to this part of my life. Although it's somewhat easier that most of the people I connected to this period of much happiness have already left. Both Holly and Tony graduated, Megan’s left but with a lasting memory, Olivia also made the tough choice to go, Tricia would still be on maternity leave, Mickey’s done and so is Trot, while A is in Europe (and even if he wasn’t, he didn’t plan on coming back because of his building assignment). I adore these people and another year in Res Life without them would be so…odd.

Despite initally hesitating, it seems to be the better course...

For the first disappearing act:

[1.] To no longer being a RA. This one’s tough for me to make. Despite all the paperwork and bullshit extra stuff we were expected to do, when it came down to it…god, how I loved being the RA to my girls. I was so damn lucky to have my first 30 residents be such a kick-ass crazy, fun-loving, loud-mouthed bunch. I could not have wished for better because they were the best.

People think being a RA is a power status, it’s totally not. You're thrown into so many situations and sometimes, it’ll be a scenario never previously encountered. You learn that the best way to deal is to depend on each other. Because of my title, I was seen as the leader, but often I found my girls teaching me, helping me see things I didn’t realize existed. They were the best mentors for my first-time experience of being a 24/7 live-in mentor.

"Make it a rule of life never to regret and never to look back. Regret is an appalling waste of energy; you can't build on it; it's only good for wallowing in." -Katherine Mansfield

Act II - The Academia Nutcase
Act III - The Love Life

From the Side

Conversations of Note:

“You want to know what I think?”

“No, not really.”

“You can think like a guy, but you’re a girl.”

“I’m confused, so are you saying this as a good thing or bad thing?”

“I’m saying it’s the thing that screws you over.”

“I almost resent that.”

“Should I continue?”

“By all means. Enlighten me as to why I’m so screwed, please.”

“You can see both sides but like a typical girl, your actions are driven by your emotions. You’re controlled by them. THAT screws you over.”

“I resent being called a typical girl.”

“You don’t resent being screwed?”

“Oh, I love being screwed.”

“Top, bottom or behind?”

Parable of the Porcupines

A favorite story given to me by one of my favorite people. *thank you, Kath*

[excerpted]:

'...people, like porcupines, congregated for warmth against winter's chill, but pricked each other severely, and this forced them to disperse into the snow. However, the cold drives them together again, and once more they leap away. At last, after many hopeful turns of huddling and dispersing, they discover that the only tolerable condition for social intercourse is keeping your distance.

They were, of course, never entirely warm, but neither were they pricked.'

Relatable? Oh, you betcha. On so many levels.

So, do I want to keep my distance? Well, to be honest here I think the question should be... how the hell do I?

How is it possible when I want the warmth. I can't kid myself. I want to feel warm and be that warm to someone special. And, I can't deny. I'm pretty much a sucker for those feel-good tingly sensations, that toe-curling sort of happiness, that sizzling dangerous heat of passion in the belly.

It's irresistable.

I don't want to have part of myself turn cold simply because I am too afraid of being pricked. But it sure makes me wonder, can a person bleed to death (figuratively) from one too many prickings?

The Idealistic Hopeful in me argues that there are times when the suffering is needed, when the all the hurt, fear and insecurity is worth it.

Because then I am appreciated. Because I want to be worth it. And, I want to know that the guy I foolishly give my heart to is indeed worthy of such blinding...trusting, foolishness.

"Men are like roses, you just have to watch out for the pricks."

Haha!



Oh, I don't know what's what anymore.