Thursday night I went to Honeyclub with Ab and we fucking danced like there ws no tomorrow. I had a bus to catch at 5 so I was ready to stay up all night until I had to meet Lib. After the club, I went to this fish n chips place to get a coke. Some fuckin' guys in the line kept making Karate chop moves in my face.
::HYA!:: "You do Karate?!" The shorter one asked.
"No, I don't."
And the same convos went: where ya from? california. where you really from? california. where are you really really from? california. OOOH YOU'RE AMERICAN?! Darling, you're really far away from home. I suggest you take a boat and go that way! ::points toward Isle:: Are you Republican or democrat? I'm a democrat. ::high five:: HOW'S IRAQ OSAMA?!
"It's Barack Obama."
And while all this is happening, the tall one keeps shoving his face in mine, yelling about stupid shit. WHERE DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL? You do karate?!
"NO!" I yell back into his face.
What do you do? I do nothing. I study English literature, poetry. and he asks, "What do you mean you do't do anything? Karate? Sumo?" I ask him what he does. I just do this, "HYA!!" and makes a "karate chop to my face."
Well that killed my high from a really good night out. I got to the bus station and waited until 4:30. Lib came and we started on our journey to BARCELONA!
To get to Barcelona, we rode a bus to get to London. From London we transfer to another bus that took us to Stansted. From Stansted we flew to REUS (BCN). To get to Barcelona we had to take another bus. The bus had left and another came, but it sat idle for an hour before we could actually leave. On the drive there, the sun was setting and it looked like we were driving on the 5. There were mountains, there was sherbert sky and we were on the right side of the road, unlike England.
And when we got to Sants (the bus station) we were like FUCK YES BARCELONA! and had decided that we probably won't drink that much because we were tired. We tried to find our way, and using high school Spanish we managed to ask some guys how to get to Passeig de Gracia. He told us to catch a bus across the street. "He said to catch the 22!" I said. "Um? "Cuarenta y dos is 44," Lib corrected. Ooops. Hahaha.
We get to the hostel, Centric Point and it's friggin bomb. We're on the fifth floor. Some guys from london invited us to go out with them. Super fine men too, but we had to meet up with Lib's friend V. After getting some dinner that was disappointing, showed up and we headed to a tiny bar in the gothic quarter. The bar ws cool but a bit smokey. After that we headed to meet some of his friends who were also studying in Barcelona. They were from UNC and UCSD UCSC and etc. We drank more wine, more cervezas, y heading towards another bar around midnight. I was already pretty fucked because my tolerance is low and I was red and embarassed and felt ridiculous.
We walked through La Rambla, where people sold cans of beer and prostitutes stake out. We got to The Black Sheep and there was a mime as the bouncer! The bar was packed! It looked like old school German underground beer tavern. We got a pitcher of SANGRIA (12 euros) for the 3 of us and a pitcher of beer. THE SANGRIA AT THE BLACK SHEEP IS SOOOO DAAAMN GOOOD! I was knocking back glass after glass because it tasted like juice. THAT SHIT FUUUUUCKS YOU UUUUP! I was sooo blasted! Ridiculous. So we "knicked" some beer mugs because it's own proper British. Lib and I hid it under our coats.
Lib was too drunk, she held hers in her hand and the bouncer at the Lotus was like No. She hid it behind the tree in front and we went in. We danced, smelled like cigarettes, and we (Lib and I) left the club at around 3:30. Somehow the other mug ended up in V's possession, he called us and we were so drunk and lost. He found us, BOTH MUGS IN HAND! We kept laughing until we made it to our hostel and I PTFOed (passed the fuck out)!
10 in the morning we wokeup and planned our day, with Wade (a guy who stayed in the same room, was from LA who travelled for a while, wanted to be a rapper, was annoying, but came in handy later in life). We went to eat at some cafe that also had disappointing food, walked to the merquat de sant joseph and la rambla. The merquat was crowded but the stands were decorated with all different kidns of fruit from basic bananaas to exoctic cactus fruit. There was chocolate, ice cream, fish, meat, and if you couldn't find it there, I'd be really surprised. On the main street, people sold birds, fluffy pigeons to canaries and finches, goldfishes, cactii, etc etc....
We took the metro to Montjuic, and climbed the fuckin' mountain. There was a guy climbing up singing and okaying his guitar. Bomb diggedity bomb because it was HUGE! Met up with V at La Sagrada Familia.
La Sagrada familia is outstanding! It truly is Gaudi's life work. Beautiful. Check it out.
All four us us walked toward la playa. The sky was blue, there was a sailboat in the Mediterranean, a single cloud floated above, and a couple walked passed holding hands. We put our feet in the cold sun until the sun sank behind the palm trees.
Wade and I decided to o back to the hostel so we could nap (in our respective hostel beds) so Lib and V kept going. Thy came back, asked me if I wanted to gru, I said no, they left and told me to call them when I was awake. So I wake. My phone is about to die and Libby's didnt work, so I called V and was ready to meet up with them at the bar they were at. At the metro station, I was pretty much ready to get onto the train and then I remembered that Wade wanted to hang out, so I called and asked if I should get him. They said yeah sure, and so I did. I woke him up and he said that he needed to shower. WTF?!?!! Pretty boy sheesh!
Just as I was ready to call V again about th plans, my phone died. I was like, "SHIT SHIT SHIT! How am I supposed to contact them? I'm alone in Barcelona!!! I didn't want to only hang outwith Wade. It's my last night! WAAAAAAAAH!!!" So I go to the reception and try to make a call to 's phone. I dind't know his number. I went to the payphone across the steet; the number I used still didn't work. I went onto skype and asked Calvin andRizz to help me out. They called and it still didn't work. This is where Wade comes in handy. I go get Wade and he had made some toast with some cheese for dinner, left by Joe (Australian travel companion) in the kitchen where the computers were. We went, and he asked, "Did you try charging your phone on that machine?" There is a machine that has all these different chargers and costs a euro. GENIUS!!!! I charged my phone and shared toast and cheese with Wade.
On the flip side, Lib and V were waiting for me at the Metro, but after an hour were smart to come back to the hostel. The fear of going to the hostel was that I would be going towards them and we would miss each other in transit. Joe happened to be sitting outside the hostel.
Lib: Do you know where Diana and Wade are?
Jo: Wade's in the room.
Upn entering the dark room, Wade and I were no where to be found. But just right then my phone had completely charged d I had called V. V says: DIANA! I say: V!
At once we reconnected and I was never so happy to lay eyes on these two strangers! And it was about time to get fuuuuucked up! I was revived and open to last night in Barcelona!
We went to a hostel that sold a litre of beer for 3 euros. I didn't eat so I was already fucked with my one litre. We met friends from the night before and from Hungary. Megan was V's back and she was beautiful! Political, open, , from new mexico, and a big drinker; i mean beeeeeeautiful! mary was from nebraska and that girl pissed in front of the cash point (atm); too legit to quit! Again, we went back to TBS and downed a pitcher of Sangria and a pitcher of beer within 45 minutes. Wade kept making raps in my ear. they were predictable and he used them over and over again. I was too fucked up to say shit so I kept laughing and laughing, but Megan challenged him so it was good times.
We go to this club called Razzmatazz. It was fucking amaaaazing! There were thousands of people on three floor with multiple dance rooms and diffeent DJs. This was pretty much a fucking rave; it was so bomb! Libby and I kept going from room to room, up and down, down to up, dancing and laughing.; everything happened to fast. "Vamanos," we'd say to escape creepers, "Next room! Next room!"I got to salsa with a guy and that was amazing because taking basic salsa at the ARC really gave me the confidence to show off! Guys offered us drinks. Libby was drinking one, and I yelled, "No! No! It's tainted!" (I don't believe in taking drinks from men because of roofies.) She shrugged and said, "A little won't hurt!" After we got away from this creeper who kept trying to dance with me, I asked for the time. Lib handed me the phone. It read: 5:15! 9 missed calls!
Shit! We were supposed to meet V and co outside the lcub at 5! EEk! We got outside, I was calling V and some guy approached us trying to sell us some hash. Lib said, "No gracias. No gracias.' Then aof a sudden, I hear the guy say to Lib, "Aye fuck you!" I turned around to look at Lib and guy, and simultaneously, we threw up the "Up yours" and shouted, FUCK YOU WANKER!!!" And we ran off, laughing. A perfect way to end the night!
So we walked back to the hostel, all 5 of us, drunk, giggling, warm and cuddly, and Lib and I were ready tocatch our bus to the airport. We PTFoed on the bus and got to the airport early. Checked it and our fuckin' plan was delayed 5 hours! Lucky for me, I PTFoed on the bench and it was sunny enough that I felt I was in Irvine again. Lib made some skateboarder friends who travel and film themselves skateboarding. We got on the plane, and lucky for us we didn't have to pay to get onto the coaches. It was all perfect timing.
On the coach, I realize after hearing Christina Aguiera's "You are Beautiful" that I love Calvin so much and want to be with him and will support his decisions in our break, but I must also love myself and will follow my heart, doing what I want to do. That way there won't be any regrets. Barcelona was about MAXIMIZING and living with no regrets! We only had two days to experience it. And that's just like Life. Short. So I should always be MAXIMIZING and living with no regret by doing what my heart wants to do! We talked about Rizz and how positive perception affects your experience. For him home means being in the environment of home. For us, home is about the people and our hearts yearn for our friends. Heart is where the home is.
On a random note, this guy from Italy hits on me while we're on our way to London. First he says, "Sayonara!" Then he says he wants a Chinese girlfriend in London. The same "Where are you born? California. Where were you originally born? California" and insulted poetry saying that writing is not a useful thing because it isn't making anything. I disgreed. He also said that his yellow fever is only for women who speak English because he can't understand women who come directly from Asia. Boo beans to him. (I told you, this shit doesn't stop!) I just need to chronicle how many times this happens to me.
We get on to Brighton and Lib and I have our goodbyes and thank yous for an amazing weekend. And as much as Barcelona was fun, we were ready to come back to Brighton because living that way was too crazy. I couldn't drink 5 days out of the week. I need ME time and breathing time. Sanity.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
follow your heart
My Uncle Danny came over today and brought over some duck, not just any duck, the one that simmers in secret sauce, no fat, teochiu style...our ethnicity, our secret recipe. And he told me that once i get my degree, i hsould sit by myself and think about waht I want to do. I should sit there, drink in hand, and ask myself, "What do I want?"
Once I have an answer, I will stick to it 100% committed, and granted there will be distractions, but you've got to give it everything. He worked at a high-end French restaurant for years, but knew that he was Asian, and no matter what, if he learned to cook French food and opened up a restaurant, people will judge the quality of the restaurant because of his surname, because of prejudices, no matter how good his French food really was. So he quit and worked at a Chinese restaurant, learning everything from the other Asian chefs, who liked him and were willing to teach him. He got a call from a friend, a distraction, "Hey Dan, come work at United with me. It has good benefits, medical, dental." My Uncle did. Got pulled away. "I wasted seven years of my life there." And all of his dreams were told to my aunt and she supported him 100% no matter how hard, no matter what pay.
I asked him if he was going to open up another restaurant other than the Japanese one. As a young person, I remember so vividly his diligence in learning and training for this trade. He said, "No, then I no longer am a specialty."
We talked about Europe and how he hated the food, the quality, the price of living, and I had to agree completely. We talked about Australia and New Zealand; I originally wanted to study abroad there. I want to visit my aunt there.
"I love to cook." And he's cooking up more than knowledge, he's helping me shape my outlook on life.
I remember being a kid and staying over at their house, but I would cry because I missed my parents, I got so homesick that I lied about being sick so that they would take me home. And all this hearsay about him being shady for making the family pay when they go eat at their restaurant. "It's not that he does; he just doesn't offer to make it free because I'm more than willing to pay for my own meal," they tell me. That's fuckin' bullshit! Ain't no one going to treat you like a queen or boss just because you are family. My E-ma has loads of money, but they aren't travelling, they aren't moving mountains, they aren't making people's day. They are just wasting away, pretending to be big boss. So who is really saving face? Who is living life? The ones on their thrones or the ones in the struggle? I may be a slave to the people, I may be a slave to stereotypes, but I will not be a slave to money!
The end.
Once I have an answer, I will stick to it 100% committed, and granted there will be distractions, but you've got to give it everything. He worked at a high-end French restaurant for years, but knew that he was Asian, and no matter what, if he learned to cook French food and opened up a restaurant, people will judge the quality of the restaurant because of his surname, because of prejudices, no matter how good his French food really was. So he quit and worked at a Chinese restaurant, learning everything from the other Asian chefs, who liked him and were willing to teach him. He got a call from a friend, a distraction, "Hey Dan, come work at United with me. It has good benefits, medical, dental." My Uncle did. Got pulled away. "I wasted seven years of my life there." And all of his dreams were told to my aunt and she supported him 100% no matter how hard, no matter what pay.
I asked him if he was going to open up another restaurant other than the Japanese one. As a young person, I remember so vividly his diligence in learning and training for this trade. He said, "No, then I no longer am a specialty."
We talked about Europe and how he hated the food, the quality, the price of living, and I had to agree completely. We talked about Australia and New Zealand; I originally wanted to study abroad there. I want to visit my aunt there.
"I love to cook." And he's cooking up more than knowledge, he's helping me shape my outlook on life.
I remember being a kid and staying over at their house, but I would cry because I missed my parents, I got so homesick that I lied about being sick so that they would take me home. And all this hearsay about him being shady for making the family pay when they go eat at their restaurant. "It's not that he does; he just doesn't offer to make it free because I'm more than willing to pay for my own meal," they tell me. That's fuckin' bullshit! Ain't no one going to treat you like a queen or boss just because you are family. My E-ma has loads of money, but they aren't travelling, they aren't moving mountains, they aren't making people's day. They are just wasting away, pretending to be big boss. So who is really saving face? Who is living life? The ones on their thrones or the ones in the struggle? I may be a slave to the people, I may be a slave to stereotypes, but I will not be a slave to money!
The end.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
The Bay is Where the Home Is
I live for sunsets. And no sunset could beat the sunsets I've seen in the past three days.
I am currently at home. Home home. Calvin left on Saturday and I decided to buy a ticket to come home to surprise my family and him and I have truly surprised my self.
Sunday, the day before my flight I went to Brighton with Kelly to get my bus ticket so that I could make it to the airport and book my taxi so I could make it to the bus station. We went down to the water after eating some much needed Chinese food at China China (our food spot).
I will try to paint this picture. Imagine heavy, thick grey clouds covering the horizon and stretching up above your head. These coulds were thick, dark, rainy looking. Got it? Okay. Point your gaze to the horizon, and imagine this tiny gap in the cloubs. A box in the clouds. Fill that box with red. That's the sun. Okay. Now to make it even more awesome, please imagine a strip of red sky just above that horizon and stretching towards your right like a light tower. This sunset was crazy! I mean, I've never seen this type of red in a sunset ever! The sun was guiding a path through the grey. Literally. And if you can't imagine it, it's okay I have a picture, but it cannot compare to the experience!
It gets better. Now turn your head toward the east and the sky is filled with 5 different types of clouds, all different colors. The sky had light, silky pink clouds, the sky was lilac purple (!) and barely layered with dark thin clouds, poofy white clouds, and barely-there-smokey grey clouds. And in this lifetime where there is a big need for change, I felt the biggest change in me. I could've died happy.
But why die happy when you can die happier? I shall continue.
Flying here was probably the best decision I could make because the views from the sky really did make me believe that the world was spherical and there is still hope in the sphere! It was a day flight so I was literally chasing the Sun, where the home is. The best part was flying into the Bay. I usually fly into Oakland and not SFO, and the views are vastly different. I saw waves breaking, I saw houseboats, I saw mountains, and most importantly, I felt home.
After Barting back to the Plaza, it was pouring rain. I called my moma via payphone and this is how the conversation went:
"Hi! It's Bao," I said.
"Hey! How are you How do you feel?"
"Good. Good."
"Good!"
"Hey mom, can you pick me up from the Bart station?"
"Huh? When are you coming back?"
"I'm here."
And like a surprise pregnancy, she conceived the possibility of truth, that her daughter was home. Moma was on her way.
I called Calvin. This is how the conversation went:
"Hey!" I said.
"Where are you?!"
"At the Bart station."
"I KNEW IT!"
"How'd you know?"
"Well becka sent me a text this morning."
"What? I told her not to tell you."
"No, crazy thing is that I had a dream last night that you came, and when I woke up I was bummed that you weren't here, then I got a text from your sister asking if I knew if you were coming home."
Our subconscious lives in the future. And I got home and Calvin came over and I couldn't stop smiling. Yeah, I haven't stopped smiling. He and I caught sunset on Moeser. The rain clouds had completely been swept towards the East and there was clear pink, orange, azul sky over the Golden Gate. And the moon was hanging out, bright, waiting for its turn to shine.
Today I woke up with Calvin at 5 AM, made breakfast because I didn't realize that it was 5Am even after Calvin just told me, and we grubbed on mama's meat, oatmeal, coffee, vegetables, and Domino's pizza. Hahaha.
I ran errands for the family lending that extra hand to help make their lives a little bit freer. My gramma made some bomb steamed fish. I slept on the couch with Nemo and woke up and read two books.
My family came home and it was loud because were talking about the elections, which is the way I like it. Loud and political!
And whence Jude came home she watched Nemo and I took a walk with Mia. Mia and I walked in silence and I spent my time looking at all these new and familiar places. We walked down to my old house, past the new city hall, past the old apartments where my aunt used to live, toward Castro. Usually I take a new path with Mia, letting her guide me whichever which way her nose, dog sense (scents) desires. Mia and Dia, the true walking society.
I saw the sunset looking sky and made the decision to turn around, finally guiding my dog. we went home to watch the sunset. I stood at the edge of my backyard, and she stood by my side. I had never seen the sunset from my backyard. From my backyard I can see the Albany Hill, Oakland, Emeryville, The Golden Gate Bridge a little right of center, and out to Marin on my far right. The sky, I know I've said "sky" double digit times in this blog, but bear with me. The sky was like looking at a lover you haven't seen in a long time, like looking at the smiling face of your best friend after being apart, like seeing your favorite movie and knowing it line for line, like hearing the cheesiest love song from middle school, like....cumming and laughing afterward because it was mafuggin' good. There was traffic on the 80, the lights of the buildings, white, reds, oranges, the sound of sirens and horns honking on the bay bridge, the Baskin Robbins Rainbow Sherbert sky and Mia gazing up at me.
I cried like redemption in hallelujah. I bent down to rub Mia, tears streaming down my eyes. We were silent, but she put her paws to my face, the way that I rub my hands on her face, and we understood.
I'm withdrawing from Sussex. I want to come home to California in December. Not because I am not fully taking advantage of the experience abroad, but I am fully taking advantage of the experience of wisdom, imagination, my truth, spiritual freedom and unconditional love. I feel deep down in my heart that I want to die at my happiest, and I can't be happiest unless I am sharing my experiences with the ones I love the most. I live for sunsets, I live for the end. The end.
I am currently at home. Home home. Calvin left on Saturday and I decided to buy a ticket to come home to surprise my family and him and I have truly surprised my self.
Sunday, the day before my flight I went to Brighton with Kelly to get my bus ticket so that I could make it to the airport and book my taxi so I could make it to the bus station. We went down to the water after eating some much needed Chinese food at China China (our food spot).
I will try to paint this picture. Imagine heavy, thick grey clouds covering the horizon and stretching up above your head. These coulds were thick, dark, rainy looking. Got it? Okay. Point your gaze to the horizon, and imagine this tiny gap in the cloubs. A box in the clouds. Fill that box with red. That's the sun. Okay. Now to make it even more awesome, please imagine a strip of red sky just above that horizon and stretching towards your right like a light tower. This sunset was crazy! I mean, I've never seen this type of red in a sunset ever! The sun was guiding a path through the grey. Literally. And if you can't imagine it, it's okay I have a picture, but it cannot compare to the experience!
It gets better. Now turn your head toward the east and the sky is filled with 5 different types of clouds, all different colors. The sky had light, silky pink clouds, the sky was lilac purple (!) and barely layered with dark thin clouds, poofy white clouds, and barely-there-smokey grey clouds. And in this lifetime where there is a big need for change, I felt the biggest change in me. I could've died happy.
But why die happy when you can die happier? I shall continue.
Flying here was probably the best decision I could make because the views from the sky really did make me believe that the world was spherical and there is still hope in the sphere! It was a day flight so I was literally chasing the Sun, where the home is. The best part was flying into the Bay. I usually fly into Oakland and not SFO, and the views are vastly different. I saw waves breaking, I saw houseboats, I saw mountains, and most importantly, I felt home.
After Barting back to the Plaza, it was pouring rain. I called my moma via payphone and this is how the conversation went:
"Hi! It's Bao," I said.
"Hey! How are you How do you feel?"
"Good. Good."
"Good!"
"Hey mom, can you pick me up from the Bart station?"
"Huh? When are you coming back?"
"I'm here."
And like a surprise pregnancy, she conceived the possibility of truth, that her daughter was home. Moma was on her way.
I called Calvin. This is how the conversation went:
"Hey!" I said.
"Where are you?!"
"At the Bart station."
"I KNEW IT!"
"How'd you know?"
"Well becka sent me a text this morning."
"What? I told her not to tell you."
"No, crazy thing is that I had a dream last night that you came, and when I woke up I was bummed that you weren't here, then I got a text from your sister asking if I knew if you were coming home."
Our subconscious lives in the future. And I got home and Calvin came over and I couldn't stop smiling. Yeah, I haven't stopped smiling. He and I caught sunset on Moeser. The rain clouds had completely been swept towards the East and there was clear pink, orange, azul sky over the Golden Gate. And the moon was hanging out, bright, waiting for its turn to shine.
Today I woke up with Calvin at 5 AM, made breakfast because I didn't realize that it was 5Am even after Calvin just told me, and we grubbed on mama's meat, oatmeal, coffee, vegetables, and Domino's pizza. Hahaha.
I ran errands for the family lending that extra hand to help make their lives a little bit freer. My gramma made some bomb steamed fish. I slept on the couch with Nemo and woke up and read two books.
My family came home and it was loud because were talking about the elections, which is the way I like it. Loud and political!
And whence Jude came home she watched Nemo and I took a walk with Mia. Mia and I walked in silence and I spent my time looking at all these new and familiar places. We walked down to my old house, past the new city hall, past the old apartments where my aunt used to live, toward Castro. Usually I take a new path with Mia, letting her guide me whichever which way her nose, dog sense (scents) desires. Mia and Dia, the true walking society.
I saw the sunset looking sky and made the decision to turn around, finally guiding my dog. we went home to watch the sunset. I stood at the edge of my backyard, and she stood by my side. I had never seen the sunset from my backyard. From my backyard I can see the Albany Hill, Oakland, Emeryville, The Golden Gate Bridge a little right of center, and out to Marin on my far right. The sky, I know I've said "sky" double digit times in this blog, but bear with me. The sky was like looking at a lover you haven't seen in a long time, like looking at the smiling face of your best friend after being apart, like seeing your favorite movie and knowing it line for line, like hearing the cheesiest love song from middle school, like....cumming and laughing afterward because it was mafuggin' good. There was traffic on the 80, the lights of the buildings, white, reds, oranges, the sound of sirens and horns honking on the bay bridge, the Baskin Robbins Rainbow Sherbert sky and Mia gazing up at me.
I cried like redemption in hallelujah. I bent down to rub Mia, tears streaming down my eyes. We were silent, but she put her paws to my face, the way that I rub my hands on her face, and we understood.
I'm withdrawing from Sussex. I want to come home to California in December. Not because I am not fully taking advantage of the experience abroad, but I am fully taking advantage of the experience of wisdom, imagination, my truth, spiritual freedom and unconditional love. I feel deep down in my heart that I want to die at my happiest, and I can't be happiest unless I am sharing my experiences with the ones I love the most. I live for sunsets, I live for the end. The end.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
A Surprise Journey
Someone knocked on our bedroom door, Julie came in, said, “Abi, there’s a random guy at our door.” Abi got up, ready to go. I asked, “Should I come out too?” thinking it was the delivery man from ASDA. “No, just sleep.” I thought it might have been Eric, her American friend. After a couple of minutes, the door opens. My head was at the foot of the bed so I peered out, upside down, in blurred sleepy vision and see this random guy walking in, he smiled a familiar smile and I thought, “Who is this guy?” I flipped up right and saw the most beautiful sight: Calvin Chu. “Hi,” he said. Immediately, I covered my head with my duvet. “I must be dreaming. No way. What the?...” So many thoughts running through my head I couldn’t even rationalize at 10 in the morning.
Surprise. Surprise. Calvin always surprises me. Abi was in on it too. He had been planning this for a couple of weeks now. We had a mini-argument the night before, Friday. I was making tikka masala and ate it alone, went out for a walk with Kelly in the dark because dinner made me far too sad. It is nice making my own dinner, and I was always comfortable eating by myself, but that night my dinner felt lonely, felt too much for a single person. I thought, “What’s the point of making amazing tasting food if no one is here to taste it? If no one is able to share it?” So I went out to look at the stars and I couldn’t help but think about Calvin because one of his goals is to go into space.
I went back into my room, called Calvin’s mobile but it went straight to his voicemail. I really did call his flying here, knowing that he’s crazy enough to do such a thing. But Abi told me not to get m hopes up. I agreed, leaving him Facebook wall posts, playing music, trying to keep myself busy so I wasn’t worrying, obsessing. This is the mutual understanding in our relationship: independence, open, freedom to explore and experience. So I agreed.
And there’s something about gut instinct that tells us the truth, tells us about the future because here he was, my past, my future presently standing in my room in mafuggin’ England. Hahaha. After embracing, thanking, getting over the shock, we showered, undressing ourselves like they did in the Notebook. Then went up to the ruins, and definitely ate my leftover tikka masala.
I had made plans to go to Brighton with Kelly because we were sad the night before and thought that sitting on the beach staring at the drone of the shore would be soothing, distracting. Instead, all three of us took the bus to Sainsbury’s so we could make vegan chocochip cookies and some Irish soda bread. Calvin was super sleepy so he slept while she and I baked. We made dinner for David, Eric, Abi. The six of us celebrated Calvin’s arrival and David’s withdrawal from Sussex.
David, Kelly, Calvin and I went to Brighton to the Oxygen bar, downed shots: terminator (jaegermeister and southern comfort), carribean connection, squashed frogs, jaeger bombs.
After being a bit buzzy, we headed back for our house party. Beers were cold, and we were ready to get fucked up. We played Fizz Fuzz. We go around counting 1, 2, 3, trying to get up to 30. For multiples of 5 you say “fizz” and multiples of 7 you say “fuzz” and reverse the direction. It was nice getting Abi’s friends and my friends together. We hadn’t done that ever. And it was nice having a loud ruckus in our flat finally. This game took us forever, but it was well worth the wait because we had a goal (30) and when we made it, fuck, it was probably collectively and thoroughly victorious.
Calvin and I ate, we slept, woke up to cook and eat again. We drank, we fought, and we played. We had poppy tea and ganj on Sunday; Abi got really sick so Monday was not a good day for her. She stayed in bed all day, which was good. Alcohol Tuesday-Thursday. I forget which night it was but we PTFOed (passed the fuck out) at 8:30 Pm, woke up at 2AM and shared a bottle of Sicilian White wine together, getting sickly drunk because wine hits way too hard (reference SPOP wine and cheese parties). After passing out for a bit on the floor next to my bathroom, we made it to the room and slept.
And we sexed like war time lovers. We made love, we flirted, we kissed, we laughed, and we snuck around like 8th graders. It was truly fantastical!
And we argued, we discussed, we dropped knowledge, we meditated, we hurt.
On Thursday (reference Irvine: students’ night), we went to Oxygen, got 1.50 pound shots, and headed toward Honeyclub, which is my favourite club in Brighton because it’s full of gay men and electronic/house music. It’s a pound entry fee and a pound for bottles of beer. I fuckin’ love it! We danced and I thought about Div and Suj, wanting to be a Go-Go dancer, giving light shows at raves or dilihs, and fuckin’ giggin’ with love and joy.
And again, we argued, we discussed, and tried to understand each other. I didn’t like the way Calvin tugged at my clothes, not because he isn’t allowed to do it, but at clubs, my uards are a lot higher. I wouldn’t want other men to do that to me, and Calvin wouldn’t want his (hypothetical) girlfriend to be tugged on either. But we were buzzing, smoked a bowl, and I drew on his back and my foot. Drawing is the only time I am fully focused, concentrated. I want to start a t-shirt line, I think, just for fun. I’ll just wear clothes that I design myself.
Halloween: we were ghosts, miscommunication, screaming in the closets, calm revelations, tears, writing, sleeping. Miscommunication of plans happened, built up frustrations were initially vented, but I gained self-control and went into the closet to scream into my clothes and cry. Why did I do this? I have learned that when in anger, my mind gets delusional, I say things that I don’t mean, I say things that have consequences and hurt other people. I cried because I kep replaying Amel Larrieux’s “Make Me Whole” in my head, knowing that every word she sang is how I felt toward Calvin. And Calvin wanted to argue, preparing himself for my vent. As easy as that was, he didn’t need that verbally beating, so my new tactic is to write my angered thoughts out, and after all that bullshit comes out, after I’ve ejaculated stupid frustration, I can finally BE. I had control of my inner peace and calm in voice, in thought, in reaction.
I learned that communication in any relationship is beyond just knowing yourself through the eyes of others, it is reflecting on the self from your eyes, from your 3rd person. Also it’s looking at the other person for guidance in the skills that I lack. For example, Calvin shows his love rather than tells his love; I am vice versa. However, I have made the effort to show my love to him by reflecting on how he shows his love to me, adopting his methods and still maintain the balance of what I do, communicate through words. Maybe it’s not necessarily compromise but becoming more than what I was when I was single, becoming more (in)dependent, becoming a hybrid human. Yeah, that definitely sounds cooler than the often negative connotation of compromise. In idiomatic terms, his strengths are my weaknesses and vice versa. What I am proposing is the adoption of his strengths in lieu of my weakness, making them my own, finding what works for me, trying it on, so that I can be wholly strong, rather than a walking contradiction of weak and strong.
Or more often consistent in the self. I question: is that is being selfish by becoming superhumanly strong, or is that the most selfless thing you can do so that you are truly invincible and can finally selflessly help others? (Reference: help yourself before you can help others. Obviously, I have learned that doing both has more often left me feeling obligated to helping others rather than fully wanting to help others because that help may not be reciprocated, thereby I can never give my full 100% by the end of whatever task it may be (i.e. SPOP, presidency, extracurriculars, friendships, relationships, etc).)
Today Calvin left early to catch a bus to get to Heathrow, to fly out for his mom’s birthday, to go back and deal with his life. I am eternally grateful to have someone in my life who would drop anything for me, who has the privilege to fly across the world for me It wasn’t because I asked him to do it, he wanted to do it, but secretly, I wanted him to too. And though he has that privilege, it should not be strained, indulged upon. We must find balance and learn to be more of ourselves when by ourselves and also more of our selves when we are together; that is the process of sharing, that is what multiculturalism is, that is what a potluck is, that is what sharing our lives together means as friends, lovers, haters, and family.
Although we journey ahead to do what we want to do, there are always broken pieces that need to be picked up, and it’s taking on the responsibility of journeying back as a newer person from when you left, and still learning to play that makes us (im)mature. Makes us happier, hybrid, harmonious, and healthier (emotional, intellectual, mental, spiritual, physical) people. Staying humble to the roots, your self, the I.
Surprise. Surprise. Calvin always surprises me. Abi was in on it too. He had been planning this for a couple of weeks now. We had a mini-argument the night before, Friday. I was making tikka masala and ate it alone, went out for a walk with Kelly in the dark because dinner made me far too sad. It is nice making my own dinner, and I was always comfortable eating by myself, but that night my dinner felt lonely, felt too much for a single person. I thought, “What’s the point of making amazing tasting food if no one is here to taste it? If no one is able to share it?” So I went out to look at the stars and I couldn’t help but think about Calvin because one of his goals is to go into space.
I went back into my room, called Calvin’s mobile but it went straight to his voicemail. I really did call his flying here, knowing that he’s crazy enough to do such a thing. But Abi told me not to get m hopes up. I agreed, leaving him Facebook wall posts, playing music, trying to keep myself busy so I wasn’t worrying, obsessing. This is the mutual understanding in our relationship: independence, open, freedom to explore and experience. So I agreed.
And there’s something about gut instinct that tells us the truth, tells us about the future because here he was, my past, my future presently standing in my room in mafuggin’ England. Hahaha. After embracing, thanking, getting over the shock, we showered, undressing ourselves like they did in the Notebook. Then went up to the ruins, and definitely ate my leftover tikka masala.
I had made plans to go to Brighton with Kelly because we were sad the night before and thought that sitting on the beach staring at the drone of the shore would be soothing, distracting. Instead, all three of us took the bus to Sainsbury’s so we could make vegan chocochip cookies and some Irish soda bread. Calvin was super sleepy so he slept while she and I baked. We made dinner for David, Eric, Abi. The six of us celebrated Calvin’s arrival and David’s withdrawal from Sussex.
David, Kelly, Calvin and I went to Brighton to the Oxygen bar, downed shots: terminator (jaegermeister and southern comfort), carribean connection, squashed frogs, jaeger bombs.
After being a bit buzzy, we headed back for our house party. Beers were cold, and we were ready to get fucked up. We played Fizz Fuzz. We go around counting 1, 2, 3, trying to get up to 30. For multiples of 5 you say “fizz” and multiples of 7 you say “fuzz” and reverse the direction. It was nice getting Abi’s friends and my friends together. We hadn’t done that ever. And it was nice having a loud ruckus in our flat finally. This game took us forever, but it was well worth the wait because we had a goal (30) and when we made it, fuck, it was probably collectively and thoroughly victorious.
Calvin and I ate, we slept, woke up to cook and eat again. We drank, we fought, and we played. We had poppy tea and ganj on Sunday; Abi got really sick so Monday was not a good day for her. She stayed in bed all day, which was good. Alcohol Tuesday-Thursday. I forget which night it was but we PTFOed (passed the fuck out) at 8:30 Pm, woke up at 2AM and shared a bottle of Sicilian White wine together, getting sickly drunk because wine hits way too hard (reference SPOP wine and cheese parties). After passing out for a bit on the floor next to my bathroom, we made it to the room and slept.
And we sexed like war time lovers. We made love, we flirted, we kissed, we laughed, and we snuck around like 8th graders. It was truly fantastical!
And we argued, we discussed, we dropped knowledge, we meditated, we hurt.
On Thursday (reference Irvine: students’ night), we went to Oxygen, got 1.50 pound shots, and headed toward Honeyclub, which is my favourite club in Brighton because it’s full of gay men and electronic/house music. It’s a pound entry fee and a pound for bottles of beer. I fuckin’ love it! We danced and I thought about Div and Suj, wanting to be a Go-Go dancer, giving light shows at raves or dilihs, and fuckin’ giggin’ with love and joy.
And again, we argued, we discussed, and tried to understand each other. I didn’t like the way Calvin tugged at my clothes, not because he isn’t allowed to do it, but at clubs, my uards are a lot higher. I wouldn’t want other men to do that to me, and Calvin wouldn’t want his (hypothetical) girlfriend to be tugged on either. But we were buzzing, smoked a bowl, and I drew on his back and my foot. Drawing is the only time I am fully focused, concentrated. I want to start a t-shirt line, I think, just for fun. I’ll just wear clothes that I design myself.
Halloween: we were ghosts, miscommunication, screaming in the closets, calm revelations, tears, writing, sleeping. Miscommunication of plans happened, built up frustrations were initially vented, but I gained self-control and went into the closet to scream into my clothes and cry. Why did I do this? I have learned that when in anger, my mind gets delusional, I say things that I don’t mean, I say things that have consequences and hurt other people. I cried because I kep replaying Amel Larrieux’s “Make Me Whole” in my head, knowing that every word she sang is how I felt toward Calvin. And Calvin wanted to argue, preparing himself for my vent. As easy as that was, he didn’t need that verbally beating, so my new tactic is to write my angered thoughts out, and after all that bullshit comes out, after I’ve ejaculated stupid frustration, I can finally BE. I had control of my inner peace and calm in voice, in thought, in reaction.
I learned that communication in any relationship is beyond just knowing yourself through the eyes of others, it is reflecting on the self from your eyes, from your 3rd person. Also it’s looking at the other person for guidance in the skills that I lack. For example, Calvin shows his love rather than tells his love; I am vice versa. However, I have made the effort to show my love to him by reflecting on how he shows his love to me, adopting his methods and still maintain the balance of what I do, communicate through words. Maybe it’s not necessarily compromise but becoming more than what I was when I was single, becoming more (in)dependent, becoming a hybrid human. Yeah, that definitely sounds cooler than the often negative connotation of compromise. In idiomatic terms, his strengths are my weaknesses and vice versa. What I am proposing is the adoption of his strengths in lieu of my weakness, making them my own, finding what works for me, trying it on, so that I can be wholly strong, rather than a walking contradiction of weak and strong.
Or more often consistent in the self. I question: is that is being selfish by becoming superhumanly strong, or is that the most selfless thing you can do so that you are truly invincible and can finally selflessly help others? (Reference: help yourself before you can help others. Obviously, I have learned that doing both has more often left me feeling obligated to helping others rather than fully wanting to help others because that help may not be reciprocated, thereby I can never give my full 100% by the end of whatever task it may be (i.e. SPOP, presidency, extracurriculars, friendships, relationships, etc).)
Today Calvin left early to catch a bus to get to Heathrow, to fly out for his mom’s birthday, to go back and deal with his life. I am eternally grateful to have someone in my life who would drop anything for me, who has the privilege to fly across the world for me It wasn’t because I asked him to do it, he wanted to do it, but secretly, I wanted him to too. And though he has that privilege, it should not be strained, indulged upon. We must find balance and learn to be more of ourselves when by ourselves and also more of our selves when we are together; that is the process of sharing, that is what multiculturalism is, that is what a potluck is, that is what sharing our lives together means as friends, lovers, haters, and family.
Although we journey ahead to do what we want to do, there are always broken pieces that need to be picked up, and it’s taking on the responsibility of journeying back as a newer person from when you left, and still learning to play that makes us (im)mature. Makes us happier, hybrid, harmonious, and healthier (emotional, intellectual, mental, spiritual, physical) people. Staying humble to the roots, your self, the I.
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