Thrill of the Ride

It’s really scary, this thing…this wonderful feeling, which they call love.

They tell me that it’s not that scary when it happens. That it’s a relief, such a beautiful gift to receive when you meet the person who will totally accept you, in every aspect and with every respect. Unabashedly.

It’s not that I don’t agree or that I don’t see what they mean.

I do, perhaps too well. Which can be a problem.

I liken it to the first time I went rock-climbing back in May and discovered what it meant “to repel.” Snugly strapped into my harness and slower than a snail, I inched backwards at the top of a cliff overlooking the Potomac River in Washington, DC. They’re telling me that I’m secure. That I just need to trust myself and keep going until the rope catches the extra slack.

Well, I could see that quite clearly…

However, it was the whole getting to THAT point which sent the panicked butterflies in my stomach crashing into mass disarray. Which made me hesitate. You see, until that point of security, I’m just hanging out there—suspended in midair without any support whatsoever—over this cliff with 75 feet of open air between my back and the ground way, way down below. Trying to squeeze in some breath between my jangled nerves, I’m babbling like an idiot until I finally feel rope catch me.

But once I know that I am almost secure, I’m already more than ready to let go. In fact, I can’t flippin’ wait to let go, to feel unstoppable as I rush down towards the earth.

In other words, I’m like Spiderman but with the hot sensation of rope-burn stinging my right palm.

So it’s not that I’m afraid. Even though I often admit to fear falling in love. It’s not that I don’t understand. Even though I remain continually amazed by how generously my friends accept me and all my impulsive weirdness in its entirety. It’s that I tire of all the continual tenseness I tend to make myself feel. Though it could just be because it’s roughly 4:30 AM in the morning and even after a long night, this insominac suddenly felt the need to release her jumbled thoughts before crashing into deep, dreamless sleep.

Either way I’m here—

Precariously hanging out over this cliff, I know I'll ride out the thrill over and over again until I find someone willing to completely let go with me.

Someone to take a jump with me...as we dive, tangled together, into the never-ending Abyss of our Unknown.

Tippin' Generously

Giving is good...but sharing is even better!

I got tagged the other day by Christy's Blogging Tips Meme: the idea is to copy the list, star your favorite ones (I picked my top 5 favorites), add your own tip at the very end, and then pass it on.

*1. Look, read, and learn.
2. Be, EXCELLENT to each other.
3. Don’t let money change ya!
4. Always reply to your comments.
*5. Blog about what you know & love.
6. Don’t use filthy language-buy a dictionary.
7. Blog about something educational.
8. Be yourself; others will follow.
9. Don’t have too many blogs that will become a chore to maintain.
10. Keep it simple, user-friendly, interesting and organized!
11. Keep the blog simple and sweet!!!
12. Share with others your thoughts and don’t be shy!
13. Never ask for link exchange. Blog hop to increase traffic.
14. Don’t clutter your blog with ads all over the place. IT’S IRRITATING.
15. Don’t comment for the sake of commenting. Some looked too fake and its a big turn off!
16. Share something interesting and you will gain more readers.
17. Show that we care to all bloggers, treat each other as friends.
18. Pictures say a million words. Keep them coming!
*19. Blogging should be fun or you’ll get tired of it pretty soon.
20. Don’t think people will come to your blog if you’re not willing to pay a visit to them.
21. Everyone loves read short posting and best, illustrated with a picture.
*22. Try not to publish more than 5 posts in one blog a day. Even if it’s from feed reader, it’s quite hard to digest and catch up reading everything.
23. Blog: the other window to peek into people’s life, minus the trouble. Keep a certain level of privacy to yourself.
24. Never tell your readers that you are going on vacation. That’s basically telling them to not visit your blog for a week. Instead, write several posts, and take advantage of the timestamp feature.
25. Try and write with people in mind that are "somewhat similar to you". Allow your audience to identify with your blog and feel "at home".
*26. The key to a good article is a good introduction. A joke, a question or a picture does wonders.
27. If you are looking to earn an income blogging read StevePavlina.com and Problogger.net, you will be amazed at what you can learn.

28. Write for yourself first. Remember that it takes time, effort, patience...and above all, daring. [The Laidback Buddhist]

I want to see some blogging tips from:

Bobbarama; he in all his bobbarama-ness glory makes me laugh
Dan; he spars with me while dodging questions ;)
Morgan; she always shares some great insight about her life
Chris C; he tickles my funny bone like no other
Skipper; she possesses an attitude that kicks major butt
Lewis Empire; he makes me uber-proud to be a part of his empire
Richard; he takes awesome scenic pix and is also my go-to person for climbing tips
Jon; he encourages my freaky widget lust
Chris Bloczynski; he already offers me a lot of blogging tips from his posts
Ben; she, yes, SHE (I have a boyish first name as well) is taking belly-dancing classes and that makes her my hero

Now, get to it!

Highway Robbery

When people rip you off, that’s what you should exclaim, very loudly and with self-assured conviction. Preferably in Chinese and accompanied with a wagging finger.*

Because it really is akin to highway robbery for a girl to get a haircut these days. Well, minus the dark, handsome, and masked (of course it’s only because he’s too damn good-looking) highway hero who'd help me battle the blood-suckers trying to get some...of my hard-earned money, that is.

Not trying to imply chivalry's dead or that I can't solve my own problems...

But what’s a gal to do in this day and age of modernity?

1. Never get another haircut. Hm, not too fond of being Rapunzel for every day thereafter. And to think of all the shampoo, conditioner, water and excess energy (since I like my showers hot) I’d be wasting…global warming, people!


2. Have my mother cut my hair. No, no, and hell no. As much as I love her, my mom should never be allowed scissors around my hair, or anyone else's for that matter. Many a scarring childhood photos can confirm this.


3. Donate to Locks of Love. Except this is not a feasible long-term solution as it takes my hair 5 months for it to grow a measly 2 inches. Plus, I’d still need to get trims/layers done in between.


4. Shave it all off. Ha! Not in a million years, not for a million bucks.


5. Cut my own hair… Bingo.
   

Although, I know you're probably thinking it's a pretty crazy idea.

Um, in case you didn't already know, any person who creates her own religion and dubs it Laidback Buddhism is not exactly sane.

Then again, who is? Because apparently I'm not the only one doing it!

But back to the whole highway robbery thing.

The last time I paid someone to cut my hair was over 4 years ago. It became a memory (as TheThinker has eloquently coined, and justly so, as Bad Hair Month) that I've filed away with the rest of my traumatic high school experiences.

I don't know how much a perm costs... but my mom and younger sister wait until we go back to Asia to get it done because it's cheaper (er, once you take the $2,000 plane ticket per person out of the equation). But I do know that it would only cost my dad only $12 ($15 max) to get his hair cut whereas mine would be charged at $28 to simply trim 1" of hair. And oh, if I wished to dye my hair as well? There goes at least another $60. Mind you, this was the price I remembered four years ago.

If that ain't considered highway robbery, I don't know what is.

This is one of those times where I'm eternally grateful to have naturally curly hair, even though it probably comes from a mutant gene (but I prefer thinking it's from the 1/4 Mongolian part of me). See, I can do random snips, create "flexible" layers, and even mess up because my curls will hide any boo-boo's I make.

Sooo, what happens when I straighten my hair?

Well, apparently it's thin enough that it doesn't matter. All that matters is having a length I'm comfortable with. So as long as my bottom layer is even and my bangs are fine, I'm good to go.

Bad news is that it's been 5 months since my last self-haircut and self-hairdye and the thinning scissors are at home. The henna dye is also at home.

I think perhaps a trip home is in order, ya think?

______________________________________________________
*What, you didn't know?! Well, that's how things work in my family...

Where The Quality Schtuff (Dsktp Wallpaper) At

I'm a sucker for aesthetically pleasing colors.

Example: if I found an article of clothing I really liked, I'd probably buy it in at least one other color as well. So while I've yet to give Dan my thoughts on his super-secret new test eCommerce site...as a woman, I sure hope it's got pretty colors! ;)

But I'm digressing (not to mention trying to score some hits, er...I mean, improve my blog with a sparring partner).

Anyhow, when Jon tagged me with the Desktop Meme (which I immediately completed as I've been notoriously procrastinating his Celeb Crushes one), I had several people asking me in the comments where I found the wallpaper called Colored Windows. Well, I prefer getting my desktop wallpapers from this site with free high-resolution wallpaper for all screen sizes called InterfaceLIFT.

I should take a moment to thank Vy for introducing me to this site when I had to get a new laptop last Spring because I temporarily plugged in my Ethernet cord across the middle of my bed and across the short gap to my desk...

(that idea sounds as bad as it was)

...so yeah.

My 4 yrs-old lightweight VAIO fell from my desk to the tiled floor, would only work in safe mode where the screen was an amusing-only-for-the-first-5-seconds 2" x 3" rectangle and (confirmed by Vinh when he extracted my hard-drive) pretty much kaputt!

Good news was that I got a laptop with a wider screen and lots of other neat-o abilities (amazing the difference 4 years will do to technology!) and promptly went hi-res wallpaper crazy for awhile.

So, join the frenzy. Spread it.

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.

To Breathe Again

Learning yoga is like learning to breathe. Literally.

"Ideas in the mind should be material for thought, not merely ideas, just as muscles are useful means of action, not mere lumps of flesh."
- Patanjali's Raja Yoga

...just as the yoga positions are to help you breathe better in everyday life, and not merely to complement the breathing aspect of yoga.

It's a concept that took a while for me to fully appreciate.

When I first started out doing yoga, I was all caught up in getting the positions right and focused solely on coaxing my body into a deeper stretch--the thought that breathing could help me do it better never crossed my mind! I took the breathing process for granted, and the "in, out" cues from my yoga teachers were generally completely ignored.

See, I had yet to realize that there is something really very calming and breathtakingly...beautiful to feel your body move in sync with your breathing cycle.

To have all that energy, all that focus on just one thing only. Your mind on your body.

It's like meditation in motion.

Don't Judge My Desktop!!!

Jon tagged me with a Desktop meme (directions are on his post) that couldn't wait (lest he think I took time clean it up!). Luckily, I reorganized my desktop a tad yesterday because it was getting cluttered, muahahaha.


Here's a larger image.

I hereby tag:

Vy
Conan
Miki
Mike
Polli
Keeyit
Theory of Thought

Have fun. =)

Why Asian Guys Can't Get White Girls

Sooo...

A friend of mine sent me a hilarious YouTube video a few weeks ago via email and I was ordered by him to say whether or not I agreed with it.

It's long (15 min?), but definitely worth watching.

I would've like to used Revver to upload with instead since Dan has explained why it's better than YouTube, but this vid wasn't on there.

Very well-done, huh?

I love it when humor is used to hash out stereotypes, or any other complex subject for that matter. It's funny because there is some truth to it.

From my own personal standpoint, I've crushed on guys of all races pretty evenly. I've fallen for guys who are VERY different from each other. I don't have a type per se and don't think anyone could (or should) have one. Regardless, I know I'm attracted to guys who've shared certain qualities and characteristics, or I s'pose...a mix that I really liked. That worked for them and for me (obviously!).

Vy thinks I'm going to end up with a non-Asian guy because Asian guys tend to be intimidated by me. That or they become like brothers to me... But I think it's generalizing the situation too much, as it depends on the guy and whether he makes a move I think is worth following-up on.

Or, if I'm intrigued enough to pursue something more on my own.

For example?

Last spring, I was sent a dozen mail-order lavender roses with a typed anonymous note:

"A beautiful lovely lady like yourself deserves roses like these."

As the very first time being given flowers, I was flattered, extremely surprised, grateful, and very, very intrigued, to say the least. And truthfully, I was also a tad intimidated—I mean, $73 is rather hefty chunk of money!

Well, I called up the flower company so they could relay the message to Mr. Anonymous that I'd like to know who he was. And as Vy joked, to see if it was a he. 3 days later, I got my answer through (1) a Facebook message that (2) sent mixed signals. Apparently, he called the 12 long-stemmed roses a "sign of recognition" because I had mentioned the previous weekend that I had hell-week right before Spring Break.

Now, I thought that was a really sweet gesture (despite being somewhat extravagant) and I know it took a lot of courage to reveal himself...

But it put my guard up.

I was willing to give him a chance since it's difficult to judge a person when we were only acquaintances (co-workers in the same area), but the timing was all wrong. He was right in thinking that I'd be interested in seeing Joe Turner's Come and Gone (as my leadership group was working alongside another theater arts project to deal with diversity and stereotype issues). But the poor guy really botched up in asking me (very last minute, via Facebook, and with the same confusing signals). After I wrote back, he apologized and explained—again, through Facebook—that he had written it while "ya, drunk."

Hmmm. Ya, no.

He followed up the next day with a phone call to apologize again, but things were already at the bottom of the hill for me.

I understand that too much, too soon can be bad thing, especially if unwanted or if the other person was not ready for it. However, it came off as insecure, unsure, and frankly somewhat sketch. I admire it a lot when guys have the courage to be more direct (or indirectly consistent), albeit in a respectful, tactful way.

It's also something I appreciate in my friendships, both male and female.

And for myself, I don't mind asking a guy out on a date...and have done so before on occasion.

It's not a good idea to stereotype someone for a just because, and I definitely wouldn't use one as a deal-breaker. Although, I do have to admit Vy is somewhat right...a white guy tends to have more of the qualities that would not only first attract my attention, but also keep it.

Then again, who's to say an Asian guy wouldn't as well?

Either way that's got nothing to do with race, but who that guy is as an individual.

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

Line 'Em Up!

I’m not a big fan of doodling spirals for some reason.

Don’t get me wrong here, I love sketching random things (usually abstract). I’ve been trying to curb my tendency to make random scribbles in the margins of my notes. Sometimes, depending on my mood, they even transform into rather elaborate drawings or a silly cartoon series. Although usually it’s just an explosion of “I’m too busy trying not to think” or “I’ve no idea what the hell I’m drawing” lines and curves.

When I was younger, my mom once mentioned she read how children who drew spirals during childhood are thought to be more intelligent (supposedly the visual of spirals stimulates brain development). She confessed to being a Spiral Child. Being young, impressionable and totally in love with my mother, I thus tried the whole spiraling thing...

Yeeeah, it never stuck.

Sometimes you can’t force yourself to like something, just like you can’t force yourself to love someone.

I do find spirals very interesting and all, but after a few minutes, I always get so easily bored with them—I mean, they can only go in ONE direction!

Stubborn little punk that I was, I tried to make the spirals work for my 8-yrs-old attention span by doing variously sized spirals, a spiral of spirals, spiral people and objects, etc, but all in vain.

I’m too loyal to my lines, it seems.

Given a blank sheet of paper, I’d start from all four corners, making line after line at numerous angles to build an assortment of triangles towards the center of the page. Or, stripes! For some reason I’m really amused by drawing stripes at various angles next to each other. I can only imagine how much ink I’ve wasted throughout the years by trying out the different perspectives you get from different spacing.

The scanner function on my printer isn’t working (probably due to the fact that I accidentally dropped it when I moved in), so instead I experimented around with good ol’ Paint.

See all the different images you can do with lines?!





Yup, yours truly was definitely a Lines & Angles type of child. Still am, I s'pose, since I spent an hour last night to create the above 2 images instead of doing work.

But for all my love of lines...I've noticed that for some reason I prefer writing and taking notes (it tends to be neater, too!) on unlined paper.

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.

Phase of Paranoia

When this happens... oh, it makes me so unbelievably mad, mad, mad.

Like, I tell myself that people who plagiarize the past can't take away from the potential of the future. But the circular argument that future eventually becomes past and past can then be plagiarized makes me cynically pissed off all over again.

And, did I mention paranoid as well?

See, I previously had the CreativeCommons disclaimer at the bottom of my page. It's still there, but now I've added a little blurb at the top. And this copyscape banner (to find unauthorized duplicate copies on the web) that used to be at the bottom of my right sidebar has been moved to the top as well.

I wonder if this'll make any difference or if I'm straight-up deluding myself.

But either way, I don't believe I could stop writing.

I mean, a lack of time might prevent me, but only for a short while as that "Pummeling" has already been established as being irrelevant...

Here, We Are

Next to you, we stand.

Sharing the same breath
as we watched how the walls you built
could not withstand Death
Never enough, I feel your guilt

It’s family, I know
You forget we’re your family, too.

You showed me patience
and how to believe, in myself
You taught us kindness
how unconditional love is true wealth

So for you, we give.

Because you are who
you are, my one and only
Dad, why…why still so blue?
Up there, it must get lonely

On that pedestal
come down, be with us again…please.

Don’t believe that shit
that men should never cry
Past haunting, past time to let go of it
Living, yet letting parts of yourself die

See in you, we love.

Waiting for you, to really see
the ones in the breathing here
let go, the poisoned branch of our family tree
Even with all our flaws and fear

That make us slip and fall
Jack had no fear or shame in the dignity of his experience.

Yes, we see your brother’s greed
You give, swallowing their dirt
And, oh! How your sisters’ disrespect makes you bleed
Feeling ashamed, betrayed…hurt

But of you, we need.

You may regret the past life
I regret waiting so damn long to do
this: to say how much you’ve neglected your wife
how your daughter is growing up without you

You regret what could’ve been, then
what of…now?

Say to you, we tried.

Your fear of committing the same mistake
Too hesitant, too blinded by guilt-ridden grief
to see what you’re doing, to see what’s at stake
These glimpses of you are much too brief

Where have you gone, daddy?
Here, but not—it’s worse than I could’ve thought.

You were never on your own
You think we’ve no clue
but we do, and you need not shoulder this alone
We’re here for you, with you

And proud of you,
Believe me, I know grandpa would be, too.
_____________________________________________________
Thanks Kymerean for giving me this poem challenge. With an inclination to be verbose, I rarely write poems...so this was quite the adventure and unexpected rollercoaster of emotions. And, much thanks to my awesome-slash-excellent English major friend for her expert opinion and constructive criticism [PS: the Kerouac line is actually a kudos to you ;) ].

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.)

Same Is NOT Equal

Because I really don't see how it's equality if it means individuality is somehow lost in the process. Same cannot be mistaken for equal.

Being a woman is not the same as being a man.

Never has been, never will be... nor should it be.

By the very nature of being men and women, we are polar opposites. That's what creates the allure for our attraction. Embracing those natural differences between men and women only serves to strengthen this connection. This magnetic polarity between our genders is needed. It's the basis of what we consider to be sexy.

That's what I said to my Human Sexuality professor last week when she asked the class for an opinion.

She really likes me now.

So the million-dollar question remains: if it's not a sameness, then what does it mean to be equal?

See, I never understood why equality must be treated as an elimination of differences. People can choose to conform to standards, trying to be the same or trying to pretend that it's good to be the same. But the characteristics of our sex doesn't just influence how we look or how we act. It's also affects how we think, innately.

And for all the differences between how men and women think, I actually feel there are more similarities than anything else.

Regardless of our sex, we all experience joy, suffer from self-doubt and...need time to recover from heartbreak.

I see equality as blending those apparent and sometimes not-so apparently different qualities. It's not enough to simply recognize men and women as different—it's also a matter of respecting how those differences can help us grow.

And, personally? That polarity between genders is probably one of the reasons why I find the masculinity of men fascinating.

Haha, then again that could also just mean that my brain is actually a hormone in disguise!

Hmm.

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.

Complusive Re-reading

Just what the doctor ordered...

For some reason, I felt compelled to share a story of how a tomboyish wildchild got converted into a chronic bookworm. For believe it or not, I was a really wild little punk as a kid.

My days then consisted of running around with the neighborhood boys and getting ourselves into all sorts of lovely mischief.

Only my mom didn't think scabby knees and a recurring appearance of bush scratches to be as...lovely, to say the least.

Nor do I remember her being very fond of all the dirt and sand I tracked into the house every day. It also didn't help that my dad found my antics amusing and continually encouraged me to indulge in whatever craziness my daydreaming prompted me to try. However, my mom's main worry was that I didn't take my (3rd-grade!) studies seriously enough...

All my teachers would tell her, "Joanne is such a sweet child who always smiles, but she doesn't pay attention in class because she keeps socializing!"

I get moved from one table to the next because the table I'm at always becomes a non-stop fit of giggles and fervent whispers.

And, uhh, if back then you were to tell me to read a book? Excuse me while I yawn. I had no drive to learn. I just wanted to make new friends and play, play, play.

This worried my mother because it mirrored exactly how she was at my age. It wouldn't be until many, many years later that I'd learn my mom (as the second youngest of six and with acres and acres of country farmland as her playgound) got herself in worse childhood pranks than I ever did.

So seeing a likeness of herself in me, my mom knew she had to curb my dislike for reading before it settled into a habit. You see, not liking to read can be quite an hindrance to one's education and verbal ability, especially for a child growing up in a bilingual household.

Therefore one afternoon, for some random scape I got myself into, I was punished with a 1 hr "time-out" at the kitchen table while my mom prepared dinner.

With one special condition.

I was to read this book she had bought me a couple of weeks ago. A book that, when it wasn't collecting dust in the corner, could be seen swatting at cobwebs around the house.

It's funny how Life works sometimes. That afternoon something happened for me, something just clicked. What started out as resentful reading turned into an endless discovery of a brand-new world. For even after my mom told me that my "time-out" was up, I remained in my seat, wholly engrossed with the pages in front of me.

This marked the successful conversion over to bookworm-ism.

Although, I think my mom got way more than she bargained for.

For she started hearing quite a different story from my teachers, like "Joanne is such an intelligent child, but she doesn't pay attention in class because she keeps reading and reading!"

I would devour my teachers' bookshelves. I simply could not get enough to satisfy my hunger.

And, this hunger has stayed with me. However, it's not limited to new books...I like to re-read books, too.

It's why I keep all of my old books, every single one of 'em! Which sometimes makes me feel like a stingy hoarder for adamantly refusing (yet again) to add any books of mine to the donation collection of old ones (past textbooks included) my parents give to the public library every few years.

Now, I'm not saying this just because I happen to be a chronic bookworm...there's much benefit to be had from re-reading books. True, the words remain the same. A second or even third read doesn't change that.

But, as the reader, I will change.

Three years later, the very same sentences can take on new meaning for me. Three years later, some experience allows me to be able to relate to the same-old book in a different way or on a whole new level.

Three years later, I can appreciate my books even more.

Since I've started writing regularly again, this complusion to re-read has expanded to things I've written in the past. Particularly if I'm going through a rough patch.

Or if I start to feel unsteady in my step. If I know a thought could be driving me in the wrong direction. I'll re-read these posts of a past to remind myself of all the reasons there was a need for me to make certain decisions in the first place.

So, I use my written memories, to...remember.

Remembering reasons that remain as valid as ever.

I refuse to repeat the past.

Defying Age

There are days when I think I'm 21, just backwards...as in 12.

And really, at what age is one really an adult? You can't put a number on it because it's different for every person. It's like asking what is a marriageable age, you know?

I mean, I could be considered an adult at 21. Though, it could also be when I graduate, when I buy my first home or when I first treat my parents to a weekend getaway trip. Or when I finally become a mother myself.

It all seems a long way's away.

As I've gotten older, you see, my mom and I have become closer. In a womanly sense. It's almost as if the more I continually strive to be my own person, the more I need her in my life. My mom is family, friend, role-model, mentor, love, laughter, and a bundle of sheer joy.

But she is also my mother. If that makes any sense.

There will always be certain things that simply can't be told to one's mother. And other things I greatly dislike telling her when I know it'll cause unnecessary worry. Even if she says she won't worry.

Case in point? Age 12.

The first time I took a flight by myself for summer camp, my mother claimed she wouldn't worry at all, that I'd be just fine--I'm learning to be independent! I took her words at face-value and being swiftly caught up in the novel excitement of being away from home...I didn't call home the first night.

Or the second night.

I woke up the third morning mortified to be requested by my counselor that I call home as soon as possible. My mom had called and firmly believed that I connected the wrong flight. That her eldest daughter had been shipped off to Russia. I kid you not.

Which is why if I'm dealing with a difficult situation, it's not that I won't tell my mom...I tell her afterwards.

After I've handled it. I then make damn sure I'm in control of my emotions when I call my mom so as to not cause her added unnecessary worry. I want to be able to explain to her what happened, how I reacted, to be able to reassure her that they didn't take advantage of my soft-hearted nature, and that any drama has come to a decided end.

See, in my 3's meme previously, I listed "forgiving certain people for their actions, prejudices, and grudges (against me)" as one of the things I'm currently doing. I dislike holding grudges and would rather forgive, to let go...than resent a situation that can't be changed. It's not worth the effort to feel bitter. However, it's extremely hard to forgive selfish, immature people when they make my mom worry about me.

A friend of mine asked me, "But don't you want to prove them wrong? I want to make them respect you...to see that they're wrong!"

Only I don't believe in making decisions to prove other people wrong. When I make decisions, what matters is that I and the people directly involved or affected know what's right, know what's really going on. To hell what others think, even if it's wrongly. I can't control what other people choose to think.

All that matters is that I can look into the mirror and respect the person looking back at me.

The (Blogger) World Is Not Enough

No expectations. No limits.

Everything (and everyone for that matter) has the potential to become anything. Having seen this proved to me over and over again, I'll even be so bold as to say I'm starting to expect the unexpected. Doesn't the irony of life just slay you sometimes?

It certainly did just that to me.

I'll be honest here, I originally started blogging simply to vent personal woes. And in many ways that hasn’t changed at all. Yet, the whole feel and direction of "The Laidback Buddhist: Makes Her Way Step By Step" has flipped 360° from it's former and admittedly very emo-like title of "Play The Fool: Every Blue Moon."

…I’d like to think that it somehow reflects new direction for me.

Of change that’s taking me beyond anything I ever imagined. I believe that to truly have no expectations, no pre-judgments should be present either. It's all about approaching every opportunity with an open mind.

A professor of mine once said, “We explore when there are no answers.”

I immediately fell in love with her for that one sentence alone (well, besides the fact that she had an excellent taste in clothes). We explore because one answer just doesn’t cut it sometimes. She touched upon why it’s such an exhilarating feeling to learn how to do something new...and to do it well. It’s addictive. How can boredom exist when there’s always something waiting on the horizon to be discovered?

Life knows no bounds.

I always knew that. What I didn’t know was that blogging knows no bounds as well.

EXHIBIT A: MyBlogLog

Ah, that which I dub the MySpace for Bloggers.

(Miki)

I holler over to the next room, “I see you, Miki! You’re not doing work!”

“Wait, how do you see me?”

“My widget just showed that Mikkers visited." I laugh slyly, "You’re on MyBlogLog which means you're not doing work!”

...you understand, of course, that the very fact I knew this meant I wasn’t doing my work either.

(Dan)

You're E V E R Y W H E R E! I find "new" blogs here, and who's already a member? You! I read different blogs I find, and who's in the comments? You again! I guess you do have an addiction, don't you?

EXHIBIT B: Blog Catalog

I finally started showing Blog Catalog a lil' love last week, and it reciprocated tenfold. Partly because there's no limit on the number of friends and communities you can add per day (MyBlogLog maxes out at 15 per day)...so yours truly promptly became akin to something like a crazed social butterfly who just discovered how to use her wings.

Top 5 Favorite Features:

1. Meeting really awesome blogger-friends
2. Categorization and subcategorization of blogs
3. Shout-to-shout feature for the message box
4. Management of which notifications get sent to your email
5. Peer-review/ranking of blogs

EXHIBIT C: Technorati

My ever-diligent dueling partner Dan ought to get an extra point for calling this one.

In this post just six days ago, he noted that I had a Technorati rating of 11 and half-jokingly wrote that he'd try to increase the rating to 15 by the weekend (to garner an extra point in our unofficial duel). Well, the weekend came and went, and I woke up Monday morning to see that that my Technorati authority had jumped to 24 and had 61 blog reactions*!!

Now, do I get a point for exceeding expectations? I mean, this counts as evidence for the theory that sparring improves one's blog, yes?

EXHIBIT D: Importing to Wordpress

Don’t get me wrong. I think Blogger is awesome, and especially user-friendly for beginners experimenting with customization.

But it’s not enough anymore!

Who would've thought this would happen? Certainly not me.

I keep thinking I must have a malfunctioning version of feedburner or something. As my feed count climbs faster than a monkey these days.

And to think I was a tad skeptical when Dan warned me that my blog was growing fast.

So now, I'm in the midst of contemplating a big move over to a self-hosted wordpress account. Today, I imported the bulk of my Blogger posts/comments over to Wordpress and decided that I really like Bluehost for web-hosting (but am open to other suggestions?).

No expectations, no limits.

Right, except I've been educated in the 7 Ways Blogging Is Like Marriage and I think I may be afflicted with a case of pre-wedding jitters...

7 Reasons for Getting My Own Domain:

1. I like the freedom you get from using a self-hosted Wordpress blog
2. ...Wordpress is so very pretty
3. If I continue to blog (which I certainly plan on doing)
4. It's better to make a move now than later for the sake of my BlogCatalog and MyBlogLog communities, Technorati ranking, readers and feed subscribers, and future traffic/linkage.
5. I am a strong believer in the power of BAA!
6. I'm building a community
7. Because Dan will probably give me another one...

Final Verdict?

Blogging has exploded into my life.

It looks like it’s here to stay.

And, I totally owned Dan in link love with this single post. Yarr, score for the Pirate King's daughter!
______________________________________________________
*EDIT: Apparently, by the time I finished writing/proof-reading this post and was just about to publish it...my Technorati authority suddenly became 25, with 63 blog reactions. I can't freakin' keep up! Love it.

In Throes of Threes

Did you know? When I was younger, I had a fascination for the number 3. So I must thank Jon for tagging me! It was a pleasure to rediscover the beauty of the threes once more.

...well, until I remembered just how challenging it is to choose to name only 3 things I love or only 3 people who make me laugh (when there are many people who do, including myself). With the biggest challenge being when three seemed too much. Like, "3 Things You Should Never Listen To." I mean, never is such an absolute word. It really made me think carefully about what to say.

With trust in our blogging relationship, I present:

3 things that scare me

1. Dinosaurs (yes, I am aware they are extinct...)
2. Swimming/snorkeling in the ocean (est. April 2003)
3. Falling in love

3 people who make me laugh

1. My mother
2. Jon Stewart
3. Dan

3 things I love

1. Eating slowly
2. Tom & Jerry cartoons
3. Randomly sharing a smile with a passerby

3 things I hate

1. Hypocrisy
2. Fascism
3. Limpfish handshakes

3 things I don’t understand

1. Deliberate ignorance
2. How to Rhumba (uhm, point-to-toe heel when?!)
3. Religious bigotry

3 things on my desk

1. Knitted cupcakes made by Miki
2. A framed photo of my younger sister
3. My well-worn copy of Pride & Prejudice that I read in the 7th grade

3 things I’m doing right now

1. Re-discovering who I am, who I want to be
2. Successfully stopped biting my fingernails (going on two weeks!!)
3. Forgiving certain people for their actions, prejudices, and grudges (against me).

3 things I want to do before I die

1. Sing karaoke in public
2. Be a grandmother
3. Use half of my retirement money to build an after-school program for inner-city kids

3 things I can do

1. Strive to be as strong as my mother
2. Encourage my curiosity
3. Salsa dancing (I cheated, this could also go under "3 things I love")

3 things I can’t do

1. Not wear my heart on my sleeve
2. Be satisfied with an easy answer
3. Unclutter my blog layout (due to an affliction of widget lust and list-making frenzies)

3 things I think you should listen to

1. Intuition
2. Hopeful aspirations
3. Classical Chinese and Folk music (and modern interpretations of it as well)

3 things you should never listen to

1. Anger-driven impulses
2. Advice before forming your own opinion
3. Biases

3 shows I watched as a kid

1. Saved by the Bell
2. PBS channel
3. Bill Nye the Science Guy
   

I hereby throw these threes to:

Kyla
Miki
Rolando
Erina
Brandy