Today has been a very long day. I could describe this week in the same manner. I haven't been able to relax for a single moment. Even my sleep has been punctuated by frequent interruptions: the sniffles, David's random nudges, an unsavory dream. I need to do more than just veg in front of the TV. David might be taking me to the zoo on Wednesday. That might help.

I've noticed a correlation: I feel progressively more stressed out if I haven't spoken with Danny in a while. He's my opium, but he's busy with his own life these days. I've just grown so accustomed to him acting as an anchor. However, I'm happy for him if he's happy.

Thursday evening could not come any sooner.

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Just a little more than one week before Thanksgiving dinner. I have a vague list of dishes in mind, but I certainly need to give the entire ordeal more thought. I keep putting it off because I don't want to face the more pressing reality: this is my first Thanksgiving away from home.

I'm surprised by how much more bothered I become as the days pass. I actually miss my family and their idiosyncrasies. It's just been so long since I've had to deal with them, and I miss the inherent mayhem and annoyances. This just means I need to work even harder so that I can make a hometown Christmas more of a possibility.

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My head hurts and I know I'm being inane. I don't often feel so low, so I'll force myself to look on the bright.

Tomorrow is the last day before Thanksgiving break officially begins for me. Although I will have work, at least academic pressures will ease for a bit and I can pick up a few extra shifts.

Friday. The Boss is OUT for the day, which means we can play our own music and fiddle with our computers to our hearts' content. I may also be popping my Settlers of Catan cherry with Tom later that evening. I know the game, but I've never known anyone who played it regularly. Apparently I'm missing out on quite a phenomenon.

Saturday. Perhaps a drag show in the Mission with Carmel? This is something I've been meaning to do since last summer. Our old coworker from MOMA is a regular performer, and Carmel is using her as the subject for a photojournalism project. That, and I desperately need a drink outside of my own apartment.

Sunday. Rest and do as I please, which will largely consist of starting "Uncharted 2: Among Thieves" and finishing up "The Idiot" by Dostoevsky. I'm hoping this is the day the rain finally chooses to come down. There is nothing more soothing than listening to the rain fall.

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It isn't quite 11 p.m. yet, but it's bedtime just the same.

Composed by Jaena Rae at 10:00:00 PM | 0 comments

I want to see "A Ma Soeur!" again. I only saw it once during my junior year of high school. Thanks, Leibs.

Many movies from those bygone film classes with Leibner struck a chord with my adolescent mind. The serious, gritty emotions that many of these films highlighted were so unlike the cheesy Disney films and action flicks that I usually found myself watching on a Friday night out with my friends.



Some goodies from those classes:
"Maelstrom"
"Memento"
"Talk to Her"
"Amores Perros"
"The Piano"
"Y Tu Mama Tambien"
"Jesus' Son"
"Enlightenment Guaranteed"
"eXistenZ"
"Full Metal Jacket"
"Run, Lola, Run"
"FUN"
"Proof"
"Italian for Beginners"
"Dark Water"

But I digress. "A Ma Soeur!" was one of those films that stayed with me for at least a month after I saw it. While watching it, I completely forgot about the Lupita's chicken burrito I was so keen on grabbing before class started. (I sure wish we had Lupita's up here. Mexican food isn't quite the same.)

While on summer holiday, 15- year-old Elena meets a young Italian man who is hell-bent on seducing her, while 12-year-old Anais can do nothing but watch and conspire with them. This surface story propels the narrative, but the sisters themselves are the most captivating part of the film. The sisters' interactions with one another feel so real, so raw, that it almost seems as though we are intruding on their lives in the simple act of watching the movie. Although so close in age, their lives could not be any more dissimilar, and the audience can see and also feel these palpable differences.

The shocking ending is perhaps the main reason that this film stands out in my mind. I can't really mention much about it without giving it away, but when the light switched on in that small auditorium, there was a long moment of silence before anyone could even comment on what we'd just seen.

Hum. I'll have to hunt down this film and watch it alone in my room. The roommates aren't too keen on foreign films. For that matter, they don't even like watching horror films. This means I end up watching a lot of rather boring or predictable movies, unless I retreat to my room with "Italian for Beginners" or the original "Dark Water." At least I'm up with the times, eh?

Composed by Jaena Rae at 10:40:00 PM | 1 comments

Hum. I just wrote a rather lengthy entry about scars, and it disappeared. That will teach me to use this gadget for more than just a few thoughts.

Composed by Jaena Rae at 12:14:00 PM | 1 comments

Joy! I discovered this nifty little gadget that allows me to post straight from my iGoogle homepage. It's ridiculous how much of my life Google frames and controls, yet I still don't mind.

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I'm in a rather unpleasant mood today. I rolled out of bed just fine, but over the course of the day my spirit just sank. I keep worrying about my financial situation. I'm tired of asking my parents for help because I know they don't have much to give, and I'd feel worthless if David had to bail me out again. Yes, again. He and his mother have helped me so much for various things, including my Ireland trip. I will always be indebted to them.

I researched graduate programs for library science and other possibilities. There are only three ALA-accredited library science programs in California. One at San Jose State, and the others in the LA area. UCLA would be a possibility if I wanted to move back home.

But I don't. I can't imagine living with my dad again, even though I love him and he never once enforced any limitations on me. I've been living on my own for two years now; it would feel like a step backward to go home, even if it seems to be the most logical solution.

Ideally, I would move east for graduate school. I left Carson for Boston right after high school, and a part of me still regrets not staying there. But eh, so it goes. I like to think I have another shot at the East Coast with grad. school, but that is unrealistic. The cost of moving and out-of-state fees would drive me crazy.

Instinct would have me crawl under the covers with "The Idiot" by Dostoevsky as soon as I get home, but my coworker wants me grab some drinks with her during happy hour at Roe. A belated birthday celebration. I could probably use the drink, but eh. I was never one to amplify or drown my emotions with outside influences.

But I'll likely go, if only for the free appetizers. Then I can crawl under the covers.

Composed by Jaena Rae at 2:56:00 PM | 1 comments

I know I've been away for quite some time and I have no good reason for my absence. The annual visit of the Carson delegation was this past weekend, and as we were walking toward Coit Tower, Leibs pointed out that I haven't Snip Snapped in a while.

So. Here is a promise: Despite my busy schedule, I will attempt to sit down and devote at least 15 minutes of my day to my blog.

Starting... later today. For now, here are a few photos from my Halloween shenanigans.

The first photo was taken after the screening of "Nosferatu" at the SF Symphony. There was live organ music and special sound effects throughout the film. It was incredibly geeky entertainment. In the photo, you will spy Christine with the fangs, and Caroline and Brian in the fedoras.

An evening at the symphony also made us all feel very snazzy and classy, which is unusual for Halloween these days, what with the barely-there-costumes that expose tons of cleavage and about 10 inches of thigh. More often than not, it's clear that you are a human female. No real need to prove it with tiny skirts.

Obviously, I opted for a fairly cozy and demure costume. I channeled Carmen Sandiego for the evening and completed the look with a red fedora and a red trench coat, although I was lacking a suitcase. It was fun to be recognized on Muni and in the bar. I already owned the red trench coat, so in reality it was the easiest costume I could come up with on short notice. I really didn't feel like purchasing an over-priced and poorly made skanky costume. Where is the creativity in being a slutty pirate, or a slutty nurse, or a slutty... Sponge Bob? But I'm starting to rant. Halloween is over for another year. Let's move on.

This Halloween proved much more exciting than last year's. I can't even recall much of that evening, other than dinner with the Carson kids and visiting the Castro for a bit.

After the symphony, the lollipop-licking Kojak (Alex) and I tried to make it to a party, but we took the incorrect bus and ended up on the wrong side of Golden Gate Park. Rather than figure it out or walk through the park at 11 p.m., we called Mosby and headed for a bar. She's the lady giving me the long peck in this last photo.

We know one of the bartenders, so one of our drinks was on-the-house. The rest of the evening was spent chatting and people-watching. Very mellow, very nice. That is, until the other patrons became more rowdy.

We started watching the small party sitting next to us. The women were all sexy cops, while the men's costumes varied from prisoners to a California raisin. One couple got up to dance. The usual bumping and grinding sort of dance. She was wearing a tiny cop costume, while he was dressed as a prison inmate. When they noticed we were taking random photos, they posed for us and right before the flash, he lifted up her skirt, exposing her entire thong-clad ass to us. We were shocked and she was angry, but because she was drunk she let it go rather quickly.

Mmm... tasteful. But perhaps I'm being a bit uptight. I was taught to always be a lady, and even though I sometimes disagreed with my grandma about what to wear and how to conduct myself with men, I was always very aware of my own self-respect. Besides, it chills me to merely imagine how my dad would react if I was even remotely like a hussy. He wouldn't be mad, but he'd certainly be disappointed. I have boundless respect for him, and I would never do anything to injure his respect for me.

But again, I digress. I'm testing the waters here. I haven't written anything personal in perhaps two months, and it feels like I will soon implode if I don't do so soon.

More to come later today, perhaps when I get home from my journalistic jaunt into the Mission.

Composed by Jaena Rae at 12:45:00 AM | 1 comments

Over the course of a single evening, I have several dreams. Most are nonsensical, with my subconscious strangely reorganizing my experiences from the preceding day.

Every so often though, my mind throws me for a loop.

Last night I dreamed about my grandma for the first time in months. She's only been gone a year and a half now, and to be honest, lately I've hardly noticed. It's easy to forget when I no longer live at home where I would be surrounded by memories of her.

In the dream I'd just walked out of the room that used to be mine when I was little, the center bedroom in the house I grew up in. Ma was sitting at the kitchen table eating her lunch, for the sunlight seemed to be that of high noon. I said hello but made a B-line for the fridge to grab a Coke.

While I stood by the fridge chugging that soda, it dawned on me that Ma should not be there. We buried her months ago. I could still too clearly recall pacing the sterile halls of the hospital, waiting for her to wake up. She appeared smaller than usual in that bed, dwarfed by the medical apparatuses that were the only indication that she was still with us.

I remember when she stopped fighting, even though my grandpa begged her to hold on.

At our family church, I gave the crappy eulogy that I had to cut short because I'd started crying.

But God, there she was, sitting at the kitchen table again. This was no apparition.

The dream became a little bit fuzzy there. I remember having a short, private conversation with my grandpa though. He said that even though she did die, she somehow came back, and she had no recollection of dying. Everyone in the family decided to keep it that way. Strange as the circumstances were, they didn't matter. The mere idea of losing her again so soon was enough to keep our mouths shut.

I remember feeling immense relief. I could now tell her all the things I wished I'd said aloud before she died. She could teach me how to cook my favorite Filipino dishes and how to sew on all the buttons that I seem to regularly lose.

When I awoke, I felt wistful but also at peace. I still miss her dearly and clearly she is still in my thoughts. Even now, I cry when I let myself do so, even though I know she would tell me to just be happy.

Death is just one of those certainties in life. The feelings of loss and heartbreak are not easy to manage, but there isn't much else one can do other than coping in the healthiest possible way. While every death I will experience through out my life will be different, I like to think I'm now a tiny bit more prepared for them all. One must take them all in stride, and celebrate that person's life rather than mourning his or her death (Another thing I internalized while I was studying Irish wakes in Ireland).

Curse you, subconscious. Sometimes I like being blissfully unaware of the realities of life.

Composed by Jaena Rae at 2:58:00 PM | 0 comments

So.

The last time I spent any time on this here blog, I was still in Armagh. I apologize for the time-lapse. While I was there, I tried so very hard to remain in the moment, only reflecting at bedtime as I stared at the slats of the bed above mine. I thought it silly to set aside even 15 minutes to visit my blog when instead I could be getting to know someone a bit better in the kitchen or in the hostel lobby.

But now that it's been just about a month since that trip, I will try my best to adequately describe the whole adventure. Honestly, it was the best experience of my life to-date.

One thing that struck me as odd from the very beginning was my lack of nervousness. By all accounts, I could have been very worried. I was traveling out of the country by myself for the first time, with virtually no familiar faces to greet me once I touched ground. (Except for Fuzzy, David's first toy.) I felt absolutely no anxiety about anything. Both the long flight and the prospect of making new friends/acquaintances did not perturb me in the slightest.

Quite the contrary, in fact. I was thrilled. The older I become, the more eager I am to go off on my own. I feel more myself when I am alone. On some levels, I feel held back by my friends and acquaintances because I'm aware of their expectations and I know that most people dislike change, particular in those they think they know. In Ireland, I expected to be free to behave and do as I pleased.

But I'm digressing a bit.

Again, I was thrilled. And I was so very happy. There was nothing to complain about. Not the hours of waiting for a bus, or the inevitable small talk with strangers, which I typically avoid.

But just in a few words, Ireland is a place where people have not forgotten how to live life. Everything from the food to the people themselves attest to that as fact. I have never known people who are friendlier or more accommodating. So many of my nights were spent just sitting in a pub listening to live traditional music, or talking to people I met there and hearing their stories. The Irish love to talk, and I much prefer to listen, so I felt incredibly comfortable. The trip was a lovely respite from the rush-rush, hustle-and-bustle of city life that I grew up in. Life moves at its own pace in many places in Ireland, and I very much appreciated it.

I'm still unsure of how to progress. So much happened and I don't know how I can package it. Perhaps the best way will be through photos, which I'll get to soon.

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Classes are already in full swing, and though I've been keeping up rather easily, I already feel the laziness seeping in.

Thus far, my favorite class is Chinese Philosophy and Religion because it is so vastly different from most other philosophy/religion courses I've had. The ideas/values are almost entirely opposite of Western ideals.

Composed by Jaena Rae at 11:33:00 AM | 1 comments

Rain continues to fall at a remarkably steady pace. Water ripples down the shingles of the hostel, and a fine mist veils the view of St. Patrick's twin spires. Now, this is the weather I had imagined when I first signed up for this trip.

At the moment, the majority of my group is out on a rain walk, milling about the small town of Armagh in just T-shirts and shorts. I, on the other hand, remain here in the reading room because of a lingering scratchiness in my throat. Under any other circumstances, I would be right out there with them. But with my rain coat. I'm not too keen on being wet.

I have been living in the "ecclesiastical capital of Ireland" for the last 12 days. My current home is situated between the two main attractions of Armagh: the Church of Ireland and the Roman Catholic cathedral. Both churches bear St. Patrick's name, a fact that was originally incredibly confusing.

Unfortunately, it seems as though my flow of thoughts has ceased along with the rain. Or perhaps I'm just daunted by the task of formatting all that I have accomplished thus far into a neat, concise account. The last 12 days have been packed with bus rides and pub crawls. Even clubbing, during which I just sat in a corner and drank previously untasted types of booze.

I suppose this trip is turning out just as I expected, minus the looming illness. At some point I'll finally write a bit more, but my face is burning and Shelly's variety box of tea beckons.

Composed by Jaena Rae at 10:18:00 AM | 0 comments

It seems as though my Life has reached a pleasant plateau. I am in love with a young man who positively dotes on me (Yes, you do, Saunders. No use in denying it. As if you would.). The number of friends remains on an incline and shows no sign of decreasing. Family life continues to stay at a comfortable distance (other than some bizarre dreams). All in all, life is good.

I'm incredibly happy.

Perhaps the only negative thing that might deserve mention is my lack of a typical social life. I sometimes wonder if I should act my own age. I'm not even sure what that means. And when have I ever really behaved like the age designated by my birth certificate?

All my life I've been told I'm a little bit too grown up for my own good. You know what, family? Thanks. Constant reinforcement of that idea just continues to give it credence. But I suppose this all begs the question: well, what do I feel like I am missing out on?

I am a night owl, but I can do without clubs and booze. I've tried it. I don't particularly like the crowds, or the music at most clubs. There is a stark difference between "cozy" and "suffocating."

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Well, I was interrupted. And I'm now completely dumbstruck.

Ricky just brought in the mail, and I received a check from my grandma, and 110 pounds worth of British money from David's mom.

I'm too pleased to continue. Have a good night, everyone!

Composed by Jaena Rae at 12:24:00 AM | 0 comments

Strange. I feel very weary this evening, the first in perhaps a few months. I'm feeling the full weight of knowing that certain years are now so far removed from who I am now. While the current-me is growing close to the ideal-me, and those years gone-by were good for what they were, I have a very strong urge to turn back the clock.

I can't help but shiver inwardly at the quickly passing days.

Everyone has those moments. When whatever the next day brings is nowhere near as important, or gratifying, or fulfilling, as the current moment you're living and breathing, the perfect moment in which your whole being is entrenched. You're with good people who know you and love you.

I've been lucky enough to experience many moments such as I've described. My friends and I used to fish on Redondo Beach pier until 4 or 5 a.m., and although we never caught much, we knew fishing was just a backdrop, a setting, in which we could hang out and simply be. I've experienced the same sort of peace just hanging out in the middle of the street in the dead of night, running around like idiots and cracking-wise. Quite frankly, we could have been anywhere, doing anything, and it would have felt just as wonderful.

I'm growing up, learning not only to think in a mature manner, but also to act in a manner that is appropriate for any given situation. It seems to me that maturity simply means having the ability to behave appropriately and justly when your emotions might dictate otherwise. Sometimes I still get the urge to rail against this burgeoning sense of self-virtue. I want to be a bitch. I want to occasionally behave like a depraved ingrate. It's easy. It takes absolutely no effort to be horrid, and that is the pure beauty of it.

None of that is what I truly want for myself, and I realize there is no sense in denying it. I don't want to be like everyone else, and I expect more from myself.

I suppose I am really lamenting the loss of my... ignorance? As a child, the responsibility for my Self was chiefly in the hands of my parents, and by extension and circumstance, my grandparents. Now I'm fully accepting the fact that the responsibility is mine, and mine alone.

Fantastic.

I feel like I don't have enough time to fully enjoy the parts of Life that used to come so easily. Regardless of what I am doing, a piece of my mind is always on the future. I'm always mindful of my actions and my thought processes.

Perhaps I'm just wound up a bit too tight. Visiting Los Angeles last week was so relaxing, largely due to the fact that David and I didn't have anything too pressing on our schedules. We played things by ear the whole time, with the exception of Cris' graduation. We can't do that up in the Bay. Our lives are dictated by our various obligations; on some days, the largest amount of time we spend together falls right before we fall asleep.

Grown-up life is nice, but I'm already mourning my childhood and my adolescence. I know I'm still young, and I am hardly an adult, but the realities of the world are definitely breaking down the barriers that my family built for me.

So it goes.

Composed by Jaena Rae at 10:44:00 PM | 0 comments