Philosophically Speaking

HYPOCRISY is one of my ultimate pet peeves, like *insert shudder* limpfish handshakes. I relish in finding paradoxes, but hypocrites...a big no-NO.

So am now working on correcting this dastardly realization in myself.
Damn you sudden epiphanies!

Which led to a surprisingly lively drive to re-think (expand upon?) my "laidback buddhism." Apparently, yours truly overlooked the Confucian and Daoism philosophies, taught indirectly to me by my father. Buddhism to me is more a way of life, a personal thought process...as is Confucucian and Daoist thought. So, I'm working on somehow meshing it all together. I'm very curious as to what I'll end up terming it b/c right now, I'm very partial to the name of Laidback Buddhist.

I mean, intellectual vanity aside, it is rather accurate.

And apparently there's ALSO this whole yoga philosophy that I haven't even tapped in to yet (currently reading up on the 10 different yoga schools of thought...seriously, TEN?!!). After absorbing this new information, I will then be able to proclaim to be a true student of yoga!

You know, rather than keeping up yoga for physical vanity's sake.

On a side note, I read Sun Tzu's The Art of War today. Maybe his thinking will help me lose less devastingly to my dad when we play Go.

Ya think??

Two Brick Walls Nodding

This is the problem with being both the emotional feeler and the analytical thinker. On one hand, I feel too much and too deeply. On the other, I think too hard and too long... It pretty much sets the perfect stage for a never-ending battle between the two selves.

So then, when I somehow hit upon an epiphany worth mentioning in eloquent This-Fish style, the Nerd Egotist in me simply can't wait to share...er, boast.

I think you’re torturing yourself.
I think you’re right.
The whole point of playing devil’s advocate here is to have a DEBATE. So you can figure things out.
Well, I got tired of it.
You knew this would eventually happen…
Yeah, I knew.
Will you stop agreeing! What happened to the girl who won’t go down without a fight?
I told you, she got tired.
Then pick yourself up, you hear?
And, is it so easy…to just cut it like that?
It’s not only easier to, but better for you. The cleaner the cut, the less of a scar.
Whoa. Wait, please say that again.
I said. The cleaner the cut, the less of a scar.
Hot damn, you're absolutely brilliant!
Of course. Now put some gutsy spirit back into yourself. It’s boring to talk to someone who has lost her wits.
I haven’t lost my wits, mind you. I just…lost my heart.
You mean a broken, useless heart?
It can be fixed...I think.
You're better off building a new one.
No...not a new one.
Oh, now this is interesting. Dare I believe we're back to debating?
Only because you're wrong. I can't erase the scars, it'd negate the whole point of going through all that pain.
Point being?
That I'm better off using the experience to build a better, stronger heart.
Atta girl.

I struggled because I know that when I finally do say good-bye, it’s for good. And, on some level, I didn't want to...though it was obvious (even to myself) that I needed to.

So I s'pose this turned out to be a good epiphany after all.

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 II

The Academia Nutcase

I think I’ve always been escaping from one thing or another. For someone who strives to be accountable for her actions towards others, it’s a hard thing to admit that I was escaping from being accountable to myself.

It's an even harder thing to admit why...

I need my second disappearing act:

[2.] To focusing more on my studies and building up clinical work. Is this what I really want to do? To be honest, I always put in average or slightly above-average. If something was going well in one area, I’d let another area slip a bit so that overall I’d still be the same person.

I was afraid. I was lazy. I wanted to push the limits of mediocrity and below as much as possible when instead I should’ve been pushing forward. I excel in every other aspect (standardized tests, sports, being well-rounded, extracurricular, being a daughter, big sister, friend, etc) of my life except for my academics. Why?

I put my heart into what I want to do, into everyone I love and care for. I am what can be termed as the characteristic ‘bleeding heart humanist.’ But I had trouble finding that same passionate heart in my studies. For some reason, I felt obligated and I resented such sort of obligated feelings. Such turn of thought caused me to wonder often that perhaps I’m in the wrong major? I had an idea, but not a well-formed one, of what I wanted to do. So, I said I didn’t know yet and time flew by. Now, I do know…I cannot live without being driven by my own passion for it.

Good thing I believe in it's never too late.

“As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live.”
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Act I - The Johnson Ladies
Act III - The Love Life

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