Waking up in February

It's the first time I've woken up and relaxed at home in a while. It's Wednesday and it's an odd feeling; when "coming home" used to be for weekends but it's now, somehow, pushed to the middle of the week.

I've been catching snippets of family time in between long periods of being out. I've been sleeping on museum concrete floor, sleeping in a plush bed that isn't mine. Lunching in my car with the windows cracked open just a bit, standing among crowds that have no draw to me.

My grandma's brother passed away last week. The news came in the briefest of passing from my mom who, at the time, hadn't yet broke the news to my grandma herself. I can't even remember if I was there when she did tell her. But now that I am home to wake up to my grandma eating half of the food on her plate - bits and pieces of spam, pandesal, and whatever else from the day before -- and storing the rest away for later, I hear her mention it as a reality that has been mulled over.

She tells me a few things as she holds the letter from my cousins and their parents in the Philippines. How her brother (Rose) is next to her [in age], followed by a list of the order of their ages, and who has already passed away. I don't know how many of them there were in total or where my grandmother falls in the order, but I know that she wasn't the closest to them as she was taken away to live with another part of her family when she was very young. I don't know if that meant she was spoiled or drastically detached compared to her siblings, but she remembers enough.

She's looking through her bag of perscriptions from Walgreens now, standing up and slowly reading and sorting through each bottle, bag, descriptive paper. I wish she'd just ask me from the get go what to take since I am here.

On the letter, she points out misspellings. I don't have the heart to tell her that it could be the automatic autocorrect on their email program, browser, or computer. Coming from a time where letters were handwritten, and each letter was put down deliberately, these misspellings seem to come out to her as significant. For example, Brynnie would spell her name with an extra "e", as "feeling"; this she writes out to me in her careful, leaning hand. The "f" seems to be backwards and I can't tell if that is a product of time or a product of her learning. For all I know, I could be the one that is backwards.

As annoying as they were, I miss the mornings waking up to her blasting radio, a little purple and black thing or a rectangular grey box, each with an extendable antenna that she never used. I still get to hear her sewing in the middle of the day, though it is a little more disturbing now that I see her carrying the machine to the table herself and never asking for help. She is 84. I pray her bones and steadiness hold up. I pray that I have the patience and motivation to make her life easier for her at this age.

My mom rushed to work this morning with a trunk full of recyclable cans. Things just build up here and I'm not helping alleviate the burden. There is no home I am part of if I cannot contribute and that is what has felt like a misgiving on my end for a while. I brought home the stuffed animals from the carnival and they added a little life and smiles to the living room; goofy, oversized faces peek out over the green and white checkered couch to greet you. I hope I can give my mom and grandma more reason to smile and more feelings of love.

Enough reflecting; time to do more now that I'm not in the haze of "eat-talk-sleep". (Or should I say "eat-LISTEN-sleep"?) I got exhausted realizing how much the words and thinking don't end. I feel like I have more control and less tolerance of people giving too much time and thought to something that is not relevant to the people at the moment. It is a consciousness and courtesy that I feel out to be afforded more to each other. Otherwise, what is the purpose of keeping each other company? Just write to a blog like me! Ha.

Christmas Eve 2016 (Sat 12/24/16)

• Glasses nowhere to be found by the bed; I'd left them in the garage the night before
• Put together last minute goodie bags with items lying around the house for coworkers, spurred by the thought that I might not be at the museum for Christmas next year and the nagging by mom: "Don't be a Scrooge"
• Work with David: didn't recognize the museum VP but was told by her husband that I look like the type to know what kind of camera the Instagram design is based on (am I hipster?)
• Learned how to use the laminator! Yay for unexpected and slightly outdated skills!
• Less afraid of making announcements
• McD's 2 for $3 chicken nuggets and french fries. BBQ sauce got on my phone.
• Butterfly earrings (matching rustic tone) swapped for silver & sapphire & my RL espadrilles
• Bravery talking to Swatch associate
• Phoebe's Candelight service: cried through the second half thinking about how Christmas is a reminder to show people that you love them and the neglect I've shown the people I love -- the feeling that I wasn't quite in the right company.... and how the comparisons, while enlightening, made me miss St. Joseph and the simplicity of the pageant
• Let mysterious small children feel like princesses by giving them a hand down the stairs in a repetitive motion
• Staircase photos by Daren: heels mess up the heights
• Richmond, a stray shrimp tempura's travels, and not being the baby at Kuru Kuru
• Midnight Mass in the cafeteria (sitting but not experiencing), with the fathers caroling (Tagalog song!), Krista and other voices "concert", and Mary's sarcasm
• Butterfly cookies from David as the snack on the way home from the packed parking lot
• 6:30AM-3AM life

Secret Santa 2016

At the time of starting this post (1:33 AM on Thanksgiving Day), I've not yet thought about what I actually want for Christmas. That being said, I'm going to work through this starting with the easy part.

THEMED SANTA

I dare you to surprise me.

Actually, I dare you to get me a mug that I wouldn't be caught dead drinking from. Except that's a lie, because if you gave me a mug that is so not me, I would be forced to use it because it'd be a gift and I would have to love it lol. Much more exciting. Imagine my face when I open your gift and the mug says, "World's best belly dancer" or some random thing like that. Haaaaa.

When all else fails, go for anything with a pretty shade of purple (I'd stay away from fuschia or dark plums) or some funky shape/look that is anything more exciting than a normal mug. Or Cookie Cat: http://www.thinkgeek.com/product/jhvu/ 

Thanks!

NORMAL SANTA 

Santa, Hakubundo is having a 50% off sale this Friday (11/25). Just saying. You know my weaknesses.

-------------I fell asleep here and now it is late evening lol --------------------

Things I would possibly like:

1. a (slightly professional and warm) black cardigan or a casual sweater/jacket without annoying floppy sleeves (I end up folding/pushing up sleeves if they're too annoying)
2. panini press or grill pan or baking stuffs!!!!!
3. socks for flats

I would also like new music so a CD or a list of songs that make you happy would also make me happy. (: If all fails and you don't have time to shop for me ($$$ or sbux/cb&tl cards) please make me a handmade holiday card!!! lol.

Thank youuuuuuuuuuuuu!

Edit 12/4: I also like nerdy biostuff like this: http://n-e-r-v-o-u-s.com/shop/product.php?code=255
Or jewelry that is gold toned and thin and nerdy and chemically or cell-y

Also I do kind of want a new keychain, kinda like: https://www.heychickadee.com/collections/foodie/products/ice-cream-pusheen-keychain

Mental bookmarks

Early August ponderings:

Love/Relationships

• as mentioned in The Original Conscious Uncouplers (admittedly read because I was curious at what the phrase "conscious uncoupler" referred to
• what it means to choose a relationship rather than to choose to run away at the first sign or possibility of conflict/struggles
• why connecting with others is so difficult to me -- am I just not willing to put in the effort?
• the role of being content with yourself.... of being very content on one's own

Future/Careers

• what it would take to teach with the DOE
• what I can do with my major
• am I capable of getting into graduate school? is it a waste of my time?
• why am I so afraid of failure/rejection if, by not even trying, I am already failing?
• how do I make up for hours, days, weeks, months, years of wasted time and lack of effort?
• can't people see right through me? I am the weakest at manipulation and I am so paper thin and so very very very much a stereotype no matter how much I want to claim that I am my own being

Recent reads and recent thoughts

I've really only been reading teen/young adult fiction, and honestly, I've no problem with that.

Today I finished Scarlet by Marissa Meyer. It's been a long time coming, since it feels like I read Cinder ages ago. Technology, thankfully, made it easier for me to actually get to it, even if it was in the form of an e-book. In fact, I probably read it even faster in the form of an e-book, without the strain of trying to fight the pages as I laid down to read.

Not that I don't love the feeling of turning pages, that is. I read Wink Poppy Midnight by April Tucholke recently (see previous post) on a whim because of the intriguing font and "mystery" label it had received on display at the library from my last visit. I read, O Great One! by David Novak, a non-fiction story disguised as a fiction one demonstrating the role of recognition. (That was a feel good read that I recommend, but I can see where some would not find the same sentiment.) Finally, I actually acquired two physical books because I just couldn't help myself: Romeo and/or Juliet by Ryan North and A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki.

I don't purchase books often because, as far as I can tell, I have never reread a book that I decided to own for a reason other than school. I've reread The Westing Game and portions of Atlas Shrugged and countless volumes of manga but never really the books I've purchased. I may reread You're Never Werid on the Internet just to be encouraged by Felicia Day's voice again. But yep, never an actual novel. So I've strayed away from buying books because it ends up being just a desire to have a pretty cover on the shelf and far away from actual use of space (and money). 

However, I did pick up Romeo and/or Juliet for it's throwback to the popularity of choose-your-adventure novels and resultant re-read likelihood. Or rather, the inherent necessity of a reread for the full experience. That's something you would never really want to experience as an e-book, something in which the medium takes away from the experience. 

And let's be real. I picked up A Tale for the Time Being mainly for its cover. I bought it in hardcover and its dust jacket is stunningly vibrant and enticing. I tried to read it last summer but lost momentum around halfway through (not necessarily because of the book itself, but perhaps the timing). As a result it's been sitting on my Goodreads "Currently Reading" list, well, not being read. It's still there long after I had to return the copy to the library. So I got my own.

This summer has kind of been about getting through series I've meant to finish or reading quick stand-alone novels. I would also like to clear off my "Currently Reading" list. They're a sad reminder of the stories left in limbo, unfinished, in my brain. It's true that I've likely really forgot what exactly was happening in these stories in the moments I stepped away from them, left them behind, so they're not necessarily taking up head space. However, every time I open up Goodreads, I see them sitting there, on the side, neglected, never updated, and it weighs on me. 

As I mentioned, A Tale for the Time Being is on that list. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami is right there beside it. These two novels keep each other company, a reminder of the days I willingly surrounded myself in that mystical feeling of the world being more ethereal and enigmatic than it should be. It was a phase of liking something I'm tempted to call magical realism without not truly knowing exactly to what that label and genre refer. I want to (and perhaps need to) revisit that reflective phase again.

Here's my reading list as I move on from Scarlet and wait for Cress, and subsequently Winter, become available to me:

1. The Last Ever After by Soman Chainani (borrowed from Phoebe)
2. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami (so Becca can borrow it)
3. rest of The Lunar Chronicles as the appear
4. A Tale for the Time Being and the rest of the unfinished books that I own

Let's see how much progress I can make!

From "Extraordinary Means" by Robyn Schneider

Written on snippets of scratch paper, to ponder on. The most interesting part is pondering the reason I felt compelled to write down these parts. I think I'm working hard on finding meaning in my own existence.

No one kept in touch, they just kept up. And then, when they couldn't keep up anymore, they forgot. (p. 170)

Yes, we'll party like nameless minor characters in a novel about someone else. (Sadie, p. 246, about Great Gatsby)

We mourn the future because it's easier than admitting that we're miserable in the present. (Lane, p. 249)

Haven't you ever thought about it? What you want to leave behind, and what you don't? (p. 261)

It's strange how we can lose things that are still right there. How a barrier can go up at any moment, trapping you on the other side, keeping you from what you want. How the things that hurt the most are the things we once had. (p. 276) 

Being temporary doesn't make something matter any less, because the point isn't for how long, the point is that it happened. (p. 284)

I was tired of being an empty box, of maintaining a checklist instead of a passion, of having skipped so many rites of passage that were lost to me now.

We all reach for whatever we think is going to dull the pain, and sometimes we don't even want whatever it is, we just want not to be miserable, you know. 

I really did enjoy this novel, particularly the humor of the characters. The medical aspect of it (XDR-TB) was also very compelling and emotionally moving to me. Prior to this book I finished Allegiant, and currently I'm reading Wink Poppy Midnight. All three books have the multiple-character first person format, and so far, Extraordinary Means felt the most natural and easy to follow. Granted, I'm just getting into Wink Poppy Midnight so I feel like the flow will pick up as I keep reading. Allegiant was difficult to get through from the get-go and I only truly appreciated the switching perspectives at the very end  -- I couldn't feel connected to the male voice at all, after hearing the female voice for the previous two books.

Also, while I'm cleaning out papers with quotes on them, here's a few more I found from Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan. They have a completely different feeling:

If fidgets were Wikipedia edits, I would have completely revamped the entry on guilt by now, and translated it into five new languages. (p. 80)

It's so egalitarian it's beyond democracy. (p. 87)

And some things from Divergent, I guess:

I don't need them -- but do I want them? Every tattoo I got with them is a mark of their friendship, and almost everytime I have laughed in this dark place was because of them. I don't want to lose them. But I feel like I have already. (p. 275) 

Believe in the ordinary acts of bravery. (Dauntless)

Finally, here's that reminder to myself to someday watch, The Kingdom of Dreams and Madness about Hayao Miyazaki.

What the receipts remind me

From El Paso and Las Cruces, snippets of the week spent there for MTNA.

Shot glasses and animal keychains, NMSU memorabilia in maroon and black. A captain crunch frappe from the Barnes & Nobles/University Bookstore, an acutely retail feeling in a quiet college town. Walking past frat houses on flat streets, not a student in sight.

Extra-large egg shakers from the zoo, textured with colorful, raised designs, one for each sister. The brisk winter air, the scrawny animals slinking to the corners of their pens, the closed Dippin' Dots cart. Empty walkways, like the zoo was ours and ours alone to enjoy. Sitting together on carved benches and statues of animals of all types. Our stupid faces squeezed everywhere: from meercats and groundhog peekholes, to the Christmas toyland cutouts at the mall, a bright, sunny bus ride away.

My first purchase from Express: a slightly worn denim jacket, slightly too small, but too cute and too on sale to pass up. Tyler picked himself a blue tie. Then, later, in the hotel room, Shawn, shrugging it on, much to tight and binding to his frame, a goofy image not to be forgotten. Playing mau in the dim light on the round table in the room, and my bed, a nest of blanket and pillows in the corner of the room.

An $8 ride up Wyler Aerial Tramway. The perfectly cool and clear skies, the sun that lent a glow to the dry Texan slopes speckled with bushes, and the stretching, endlessly stretching, expanse of land. Shawn, with his fear of heights, and Ryan, with his blatant disregard of them, forever confident and brave and proud within himself. Gold and silver pencils, two feet long,

Chachi's on the final night, and Ryan's stomach of unrest that followed. No qualms, sipped perfect horchata, walking distance from our hotel, bundled in the cool night air.

Of course, there are things that they can't remind me of: the hours on the plane, sandwiched between Tyler and Shawn playing Pokemon X in earnest, the moments waiting in the airport as the new year chimed in. The hours together, walking and riding and eating and practicing, tears and smiles and laughs and all.

2014. I am so very fond of these memories.