Pleased to have known you, George Carlin

Because I'm homeless and underemployed and "not allowed to use the elevator without my host" and have access to Netflix, my four eyes have been hurting. I'm watching things I never thought I would (not porn, I just am not mature enough) and I have to say... hooray!

Where have you been?

I've been looking for you. I've checked everywhere. Even when it looks like we're as compatible as ever, you end up finding someone else.

In the beginning, I was nervous. Will I look good? Am I smiling too much? How do I say goodbye? I'd spend hours thinking of how to approach you, and realize that it doesn't matter too much. As long as I show that I am human, you'll respond back. When I finally got to meet you, it wasn't as bad as I thought. We were communicating. I was energized, and you were the same. But you didn't call me back. Well, you did, but it took three weeks, and you told me I wasn't the one. 

The furthest I've travelled to meet you was 2 hours. That's one way. I was willing to have a long distance relationship if I meant I'd have some kind of stability. Again, you rejected me for someone else. I had to keep reaching out for you to get an answer.

I thought maybe I should change some things up. It sounds ridiculous, but I remember wearing shoes instead of sandals for my third driving test and I passed. I passed because I changed my shoes. Everything else was the same.

So, after 6 months of searching for you, I thought I had found the one. This time, I went and bought new clothes. I didn't wear my glasses. I wore makeup. I even told everyone about you. My father knew about you.

Again, I was let down. I thought changing things up would work, but it didn't. In the end, there is someone out there with more past experience. But don't you like novelty? Don't you want a fresh mind, someone who isn't jaded? 

I don't know when I will find out. I feel it's time for me to stop searching. I'll let you find me. 

I feel good

The people. 

Are willing to help.

Me.

Help me.

Believe.

The simplicity of kindness. 

The few people.

Who are willing to help.

Thank you.

For adding more colors.

For your kindness.

I will. 

I wanted a job but I got a haircut instead

Taken by my brother at the High Line in NYC. Why so mad!?

I decided to hold on to the sheet protector in my hand, making sure the images of Michelle Williams, Tao Okamoto and Jessica Stroup were in his sight. Thank goodness I wasn't in his shoes. I showed him three different looks because honestly I didn't know which one I wanted. I knew for sure I wanted to be able to tuck hair behind my ears (I kept stating that over and over along with the hand motions of tucking hair behind my ears) and I wanted it to still look feminine. Before the cut, I also showed him my "NO" sheet, which coincidentally were full of Asian women in their mid-40s. I should have illustrated it better with a huge X on all the images. I kept pointing at the bad sheet, and shook my head saying "No, not this. This is bad. No." He nodded, and before he started, he left for a minute and returned with a style book. He frantically flipped the pages and pointed to a sample. I gave him a look of doubt, and he took the sheet from my hand and examined it. "Okay" he nodded.

And before I knew it, he was snipping my hair. Short. And it kept getting shorter. And shorter. For some reason, when he was done, I told him to make it shorter. It wasn't a huge change for me, since I basically always have my hair tied up anyways.

My observant roommate and friend was surprised that I was rather... dull during the cut. "I thought you were going to cry." Nope. I thought I would feel lighter and clarity will overcome me. I seem to always miss the boat when it comes to epiphanies and life changing moments. I didn't feel like a brand new person. It's just hair. I just happen to currently be having short hair. Another interaction I seem to have when people first notice my hair is "That looks so good on you. What made you do it?" I'm not sure if I believe them or not, but I take the compliment anyway. My answer seems to disappoint them when I say "Thanks. Nothing. I just wanted to cut it." Typically, for girls at least, cutting more than 12 inches of your hair is done strategically and usually occurs during a great moment of transition and a need for a new start, i.e. the ever popular breakup, getting hired/fired, a death.

It shows how much I've changed. I'm still dramatic over things, but I seem to be very calm when it comes to bigger changes. The old me would have freaked out with the short hair, and plaster the message all over whatever social network that's poppin'.  I've become quite calm about such big issues, and I'm not sure if I like that or not.

However, my enthusiasm comes out when I apply for jobs. I'm passionate about my career choice and I've never been so hopeful and hopeless. I hate transitions. I can't fathom transitioning to the working world. Everyone I've spoken to just happened to fall into their careers. They never planned it. As for me, I've planned it, and I've had my eye on it since college. Doesn't this give me an advantage? Perhaps from this adventure, I'll end up somewhere unexpected and I end up loving it. For now, am I too eager? Should I apply the old advice to the singles of "Don't go looking for love, it will find you"to my job hunting? I'll wait for a job opportunity to find me and want me. Bull.

I guess in the end, cutting my hair did symbolize something. I wanted a shift in how things were. Getting short hair replaced getting a job. Good enough for me.

Just Ask Yourself

It's a strange mood. I think listening to Death Cab's Two Brothers On a Hotel Bed is not helping my mood. Maybe it's also the emptiness of this room. I'm thinking about the future. Please forgive me if I go off on tangents and begin babbling like a five year old. It'll be my first (of many?) rants.I should be content right now; recent grad with a job. When I say job, I mean I get paid. It's actually an "internship" but it feels like a job. And I love it here. A lot. There is potential for being a real employee. While others would be ecstatic about such an opportuniy, I'm not. The practical (hah), cautious me would intern here for as long as possible until it becomes a full time job. But for some reason (I'm blaming all the brainwashing from inspirational speakers) I can't go on and do that.

As a kid, I've heard from so many speakers/adults/teachers/mentors to always follow your passion. They say "Do what you love." You know you love your job if you answer yes to this: If they didn't pay you, would you still work there?

And from a realistic standpoint, the job economy is so bad nowadays, that having any job is good enough. Others have told me that I should find a job, work on my hobbies on the side, and when I make enough money, quit, and pursue that hobby. This really makes sense and it is the smartest route. That's also the easiest route.

I see a long road ahead of me. I see many stories of attempts and failures. I hope to one day look back and be able to tell a story of triumph.

Here's inspiration for you all:
The point is, I can’t tell you how to succeed. But I can tell you how not to: Give in to the shame of being rejected and put your manuscript—or painting, song, voice, dance moves, [insert passion here]—in the coffin that is your bedside drawer and close it for good. I guarantee you that it won’t take you anywhere. Or you could do what this writer did: Give in to your obsession instead.


And if your friends make fun of you for chasing your dream, remember—just lie.