I'm back!

So I found my old blog. I think I am going to resume my old posting style, updating only occassionally and speaking succinctly and truthfully.
Tumblr is too pretentious for me now.

Ah, ah, ah.

Life is too pretentious for me now.

Migration

Find me at

http://honeybeesandnarwhals.tumblr.com/

"I Hope I Get Over This Phase, Because I'm Stuck in This Haze"

Has it really been two months since my last post?
My gosh, what a failure.
I don't quite have much to say, only that I'm growing increasingly wary of everything.
And it sucks.

Feel this like I. Life point no. Tired always. Work ends never. Tomorrow there no is? Jumbled everything. Mess.
Help need I now.


Sleep perchance forever I could?
No, life fair not is. Suffer now later rewards. Hope.
Stupid me.

It's very depressing, actually. Perhaps I will blog more during Thanksgiving break.
For now, ciao.


Falling - David Archuleta
Not the most spectacular song, but the lyrics are spot on.

Anger Mismanagement

So, I've realized something.

I am an angry person.

Okay, not like 
angry.

Well, en espanol, we were talking about the idiom: "With the patience of Job." And mi maestro asked, "Senorita Shirley, you look like someone with the patience of Job."
and I realized, actually, oh hell no.

The Passing of a Soul

许旭 1932 - 08.13.2010


My grandfather is a great man.

He was the district manager of every single Tsing Hua book store in the Shang Dong district。 and a great scholar.
Over a hundred people from all over China attended his cremation.
He is loved and respected by even more.
He self-studied everything he's ever known.
And he loves fried fish and dried pork.

And he fathered my mother, who is the most amazing woman I know.

We Won't Miss You, Because You've Never Left

I've never been close to my grandfather, but death, like life, is a mysterious and magical thing.

I can't explain it, but there's a sudden knot inside me and it hurts.
Maybe the situation hasn't completely hit me yet, but I don't miss him. But the more I think about it, the more I realize: I'll never see him again.

Never hear his husky voice or loud laugh.
Never see his toothy smile.
Never laugh at his ShanDong accent.
Never walk with him to a bookstore.
Never hold his elbow as we go grocery shopping.
Never see his angry face when I throw away his cigarettes.
Never cry at his harsh scoldings.
Never feel his calloused hands on my head or shoulder.
Never hear him call my name.

When was the last time I saw him?
When was the last time I spent a day with him?

And when I see my mother cry wailing sobs while muttering, "Daddy!" over and over, my tears can't stop.

Grandpa's gone.

Fuck.

Puke All Your Troubles Away

Note: This post is not an over-dramatic confession about my secret bulimia addiction. Sorry. But at least there's grunge music.


Not that I enjoy beginning blog posts in FML format (or, as some would prefer it, MLIA format) and imagining pretentious anti-trolls (who are actually as annoying as trolls) wince at the reference, the antecedent "today" applies perfectly in this anecdote. In fact, "a minute ago" works much better.

Although, since I take ages to write a blog post, by the time this is dated and published, the event will be far more than sixty seconds past.

Anyway.

Today, as I was studying for my math SATs (yeah, I know, I finally told myself to shut the hell up and start studying), I made myself some microwavable Kettle Korn as a snack. Once upon a time, I loved the fat bastards. But now, they just taste bland, greasy, cheap, and leave a terrible after-taste.

However, despite all of my mental notes to never buy or eat this popcorn again, I had three bags sitting in my pantry that just had to be devoured. As I sat trying to figure out how to solve for the fucking limit, one entire bag disappeared into the oil that lined my fingers. After a moment of stunned silence, self-loath, and slight indigestion, I decided it was definitely not worth it.


So, as I stood up, stretched, and felt another wave of indigestion, I began to think how wonderful it would be if I could rewind my life, even for just five minutes, and tell myself not to make that stupid decision I definitely will regret five minutes later. Although, knowing me, I'd make the decision anyway.

But I digress.

Laughing inwardly at the impossibility of such a feat, I began to ponder an invention that can physically remove regrettably consumed food out of stomachs, and how amazingly well it would sell.

A Little Piece of Sunshine

Nothing like fog, heavy overcast, chilling winds, and annoying neighbors to make me really miss home.
Rolled back in SF today. It is literally an immediate shift from sunshine to fog. I think every time I venture into the land of the sun and am forced to return to the fog, I die a little inside. Not very pleasant, I admit.

Anyway, just felt like making a short post. :) Nothing too amazing going on, really. I am now severely sleep-deprived (long story involving a crying baby. Well, that actually wasn't that long, was it?) and am sporting a ridiculous tan, but nothing I'm not already used to.

I find it both amusing and frightening that 80% of the girls I've seen in Tahoe look exactly like Britany Spears.
Gorgeous blond locks, yes. Pretty faces, yes. Too much mascara, yes. Generic, definitely.

Why do girls have to look like somebody or dress a certain style?

gold-digging cradle-robbing gerbil-cougars

What?

So, I was having a conversation with my coworker/ex-tutor yesterday (who was, seriously, on a caffeine high). I've never seen anybody on a caffeine high before, but people always tell me I'm on a constant high on oxygen.(I've mellowed a bit since summer. I think the regular hours of sleep must have helped)
I've never believed them, but now I do.

It's a bit freaky, really, seeing yourself in a twenty-something man a head taller than you.

Anyway, just because my mind never travels straight, and because shit rarely go through my mind before it springs out of my mouth, I accidentally called him a cradle-robber. I mean, it was a joke. Like, one of those things you joke about, but at the same time, really really hope it's not true or else you've just put yourself in an extremely awkward position.
Which I kinda did anyway, but one significantly less awkward than I'd expected.

Anyway, anyway.

He was like, "Would you think less of me if I went out with a high-schooler?"

and I was like, "Hmmmm... no.... hm...."

I Predict A Riot

The feeling is back.

Concert Chic

Photo from Flikr

I attended my first ever concert today!
Ahh! I know. :)

It was Alice's Summerthing 2010.
Amazing free outdoor concert, Gay Pride Week, Gay Pride Parade, and a sunny day after an entire week of fog. San Francisco, I fucking love you. :)
Actually, my feelings toward Señor Francisco are strongly ambivalent, but I'm a teenager. My purpose in life is to say things I don't mean and "liiiiiive like [I'm] dying." :)

And, really, Kris Allen and Jason Wade are cute. I never realized how huge of a stage flirt Wade is. He looks a hundred times cuter in person than in photographs, seriously. Okay, he's no Gaspard, but God, that smile! If he were ten years younger and unmarried...
... I would let him hold my hand. Really, what were you thinking?

So fucking hot. So fucking Unavailable.

[Get ready, babes, This post has pictures. Lots of them. ;) And I'm trying something out: the "read more" link (below)! Have fun!]

Simple words cannot describe the breathtaking hotness of the man named Gaspard Ulliel.
Goddamn it, I need to move myself to France.

Fuck.

And no, not in that way. Not yet, anyway.

I Look Inside Myself and See My Heart is Black

I'm sorry if I've ever made you feel anything less than amazing.

He-doodly-llo!

Doodly diddly.

So, I may want to kidnap Ned Flanders and carry around him in my pocket with me. All the time. :x

Ahem.

That aside, another procrastination post. SAT IIs are, regrettably, tomorrow. And of course I haven't studied, why would you even ask?

Yeah, I am royally screwed.

That aside (again. Wow, aren't I amazing at avoiding topics I bring up?), I spent four hours having a mini SAW marathon. I'll admit it. I love puppies, unicorns, rainbows, chick flicks, romance novels, soft-served ice cream, swallows (not that kind of swallow, Jesus Christ.),  and gay boys (cut me some slack. They're just so goddamn cute! I will pay you to find a straight man as perfect as a gay man, then shoot you so you can't steal him from me.) and I love SAW. 

Future of America

Hey blog, long time no see!
Missed me?

Well, not much has happened. My life is as thoroughly copulated as ever, but I'm finally past the point of incessant bitching over the subject.

So, let's move on, shall we?

I've finally realized the extent of the influence of years of English on my brain. I find myself narrating my day in perfect syntax, and even attempting to look up words in dictionary.com. IN MY MIND.
Jesus Christ.
Sometimes, I even write it down:

So, today, I saw an ambulance outside of Taco Bell/KFC on my way to the bus stop. All of my concern and curiosity dissipated when a heavyset man with a protruding gut waddled out of the "restaurant" and carefully hoisted himself up in the stretcher. He held an equally bloated Taco Bell bag in his hand.
What has America come to? 

A (very, very, very fine) dude sitting across from me on the bus stared at me like I'm on drugs because of my furious scribbling. Oops.

Deesaster

So, the universe is definitely against me.

Blog hopping

x

I'm sorry blogspot, I was unfaithful.

Due to the growing epidemic of Tumblr blogs and the fact that most of my friends have one, I decided to create an account. Ten minutes later, I'm back.

Just because I am such a critic, I feel compelled to write a short review.

This is why I love the internet.

CLICK THE PICTURE. (You know you want to)

Doing what I'm not supposed to. Haha!

Guess where I am.
I'm updating my blog from the school library; oh, the boredom.

Just thought I would share.

Mmm... God.

San Francisco weather has once again taken a complete turn. Just last week, I was shivering in my black skinny jeans and wool jacket. Today, I'm resisting the urge to dump a tub of ice water on my outfit of tee-shirt and short-shorts.

So, life is remotely boring.

Lately, it seems that the major topic of discussion is Lowell Jr. Prom.
Really, what's the point?
Maybe I'm just bitter (sad face) that nobody has asked me yet. I mean, what a self-esteem boost, eh?
Whatever.

But really, what's the point of a JUNIOR prom and a prom?
Actually, I don't understand formal dances at all. You buy a nice dress, get all dolled up, only to dance awkwardly with a bunch of friends you see everyday anyway and watch strangers grind. Actually, sometimes you even catch people you know grinding. Believe me: A-W-K-W-A-R-D.

Well, I suppose I shouldn't let it bother me so much. So what if nobody has asked me? So what if I accidentally take it as a sign that I am socially retarded and not-so-gorgeous? :/

Since I'm on a school computer, I can't attach a wonderous song. Shall edit later, eh?

It's almost not snowing.

Here's a lame poem I came up with on the bus ride this afternoon:

San Francisco: The giant oxymoron

The warm sun soaks through my jeans,
As I lean against the ice-cold bus wall,
my head raps violently against the vibration of double-layered windows.
The machine gun-like assault of ice pellets
clatter through the bright afternoon sun.
The clouds are rolling in. away. blue. gray.
Blond hair, blue eyed.
Black hair, brown eyed.
Pink purple blue green red bleached...
dreamy lost excited angry pathetic eyes
staring up at the bipolar sky.
Oh shit. It's hailing out there.

March 08, 2010. The day the sky went bazookers.

Today was, to put it simply, amazing.

I love the rain. Especially when I'm not caught in it.
What do I love more than the rain?

Oh HAIL yes. :]

Tiny pellets of ice, striking down from the sky.
Rather poetic, don't you think?

Today was literally sunshine one second, and pouring rain the next. In the afternoon, the rain turned into hail.

After I got home, I stuck my head out the window for quite a while, just enjoying the amazing freshness of after-rain air.
As if that wasn't enough, I packed my bag and went up to the roof.
I had a pleasant thirty seconds of peace before a sudden swarm of miniature hail chased me back indoors. What? I'm not that waterproof.

This is how the sky looked like outside of my house right after the sky's temper tantrum.

Too bad I don't have a better camera. It really was (and still is) a gorgeous scene.

I absolutely adore the sky. Every single time I lift my head, the sky astounds me with its breathtaking beauty.
It's so blue, so gray, so dark, so light. So peaceful, so wild, so pure, so convoluted...
It's me and everything I can't be.

Afterwards, the sun came out for one last epic battle before the clouds took over:

Right now, at the tranquil hour of seven before six, the sky is a soft lavender with gorgeous rolling clouds.

I would give everything I have just to become a bird and to feel the wind against every inch of my skin, or become a falling star and let the atmosphere set me alight as I rush through the weightless clouds.

I am so grateful for nature, yet so extremely bitter.

Why was I not borne with wings?

Well, now here I am. Indoors and staring at my computer, blogging. Perhaps nature just isn't my element, although I do love the sky to pieces.

Honestly speaking, I would murder the whole world for the power of flight. :)


Letter From the Sky - Civil Twilight