[Central Park, NYC, NY]
Sure, when it’s autumn
Wind always wants to
Creep up and haunt you
Whistlin’ it’s got you
With its heartache, with its sorrow
Winter wind sings and it cries.
Cause you know,
I don’t do sadness
Not even a little bit.
Just don’t need it in my life
Don’t want any part of it.
I don’t do sadness,
Hey I’ve done my time
Looking back on it all
Then it blows my mind.
I don’t do sadness
So been there,
Don’t do sadness
Just don’t care.
allow me to treat this blog like a xanga for a moment. This was a funny convo I had today:
[photo taken in Taipei, Taiwan, August 2008. Best viewed large.]
With the flurry of the holidays incoming, the flux of issues coming up at work (too much work, or not enough.. both are stressful), and the disaster that is my apartment…sometimes it’s important to remember to stop for air. This past weekend has been one of my most relaxing in a long time. It helps that it was 4 days long; I finally feel like I had enough days off to recharge, and was ready to tackle the work week. I have some semblance of regular work. I seem to be able to go on vacation. I have snowboarding trips planned and in the works. I’ve joined the gym and I go 2-3 times a week. Things have seemingly started to fall into place.
Of course, one must forget the fact that the loud mexican mariachi music that was being blasted last night at 3am in front of my window caused insomnia, leading to a sleepy day at work. We’re putting that behind us. Deep breath.
Can’t lie. Work’s getting to me. It’s something about only getting assignments in the afternoons, and losing almost all of my weekday evenings. Weekends have become so much more precious. I can feel my face forgetting how to smile.
So, instead, I look through old pictures taken during another lifetime. These are two of my favorite cousins. Seeing them, especially the little one, always brings a smile to my face. These days, it is much needed.
but, obviously, minus the boy.
–edit–
Oh, I’m gonna be wounded
Oh, I’m gonna be your wound
Oh, I’m gonna bruise you
Oh, you’re gonna be my bruise
Nine p.m. today, I came home to a surprise. There was something gray and fuzzy, sleeping in my Victoria’s Secret plush slippers. It was, you guessed it.. a mouse. It was actually sort of cute.. tiny little thing, cuddling up to the softness of my slippers. Probably reminded it of its mom. I had left the lights off, so the dear thing had been fast asleep.
I was contemplating using a plastic bag over my hands and grabbing it.. but the thought of feeling its warm wriggling body was not really something I wanted to experience. Instead, I spotted a folded up paper bag. Gold! I used it, guiding/scooting the mouse closer to the front door. Once it woke up, it started to run with its little paws, trying to escape. Nope. I’m too quick for ‘em. Occasionally catching its paws or its tail, I firmly pushed it towards the door with the paper bag.
We were a mere 7 or 8 inches from the door. I shoved him out.. or so I thought. It ran to the corner, where the door hinges were, under the door itself. I tried to poke at him, push him out with the paper bag. Hm.. still see the tail. I take a quick glance outside my apartment. Nope, no mouse body. Must be hiding under the actual door.
I open the door a bit wider. Little mousey here tries to run out. I am fed up. I used the paper bag as a shovel of sorts, and scooped the thing up and threw him out. He flew a solid 5, 6 feet, and landed on the stairs. It looked confused, but was still moving. Cool. I didn’t kill him. No blood on my hands.
You stay out, mousey. This is MY apartment.
Last night I come home to a notice telling me that I may not have hot water for up to two weeks. I think to myself…crappy, but well, I can deal. I’ll join a gym, or I’ll just have cold showers. Maybe it won’t last for the entire 2 weeks.
This morning I wake up. I use soap to wash my hands, and when I turned on the faucet…nothing came out. Nothing from the tub. Nothing from the kitchen sink. I had to resort to my drinking water to get the soap off.
I call the super. He tells me that he had put up a notice (what notice?!) that the water had to be turned off. Upon further questioning… I found out that the water had been turned off at 2am. Yes, I definitely always go back downstairs at 2am to check whether a notice has been put up about water being turned off. Right.
So, uh, getting ready for work today was fun. I used Listerene and face wipes. I’m brushing my teeth at the office and I’m showering at a friend’s today.
I suppose this is my cue to join a gym.
This is an absolutely beautiful song. More information can be found here.
Caffeine spills, as the world speeds by.
Train cacophony hides my sigh.
Raintears spill and the windows smear.
My tears spill because you’re not here.
And in another place
your kiss would dry my face.
Each passing field and tree
separates you from me.
Raintears are all I see.
Gave my blessing, and you were gone.
Stars burnt out as the years rolled on.
Gave my heart, as I always do.
Lost myself the day I lost you.
And in another place
I’d heal in your embrace.
My honey-drizzled dreams
sweeten lonely in-betweens.
Each passing day and year
taunts me ’cause you’re not here.
Wounds won’t close
’cause I know
somehow I
let you go.
Let me go.
[P at Hayes Valley, San Francisco, CA]
In search of open-minded people who are willing to let me practice photography on them. No experience necessary. You’ll get a set of high quality, edited images to keep…absolutely free. What could be better than free?? 
I was walking back to work today, when I noticed a sign. “Books: Kinokuniya”. A visit inside transported me back to Japan. The people behind the cash register greeted us with “Irashaimase!” The shelves were stocked with Japanese books, manga, music, photography, the works. Every sales person spoke fluent Japanese.
It’s another reason why I love New York. At moments when I least expect it, I am gently reminded of Japan. The other day, I was walking on a small street in the Lower East Side. There, I found a tiny store, sandwiched between a plant store and a laundromat. This store, run by a Japanese family, sold Japanese knicknacks. They had an entire eraser collection: pencil sharpeners whose handles you can actually turn, scissors that you can open and close, dishes and baseball bats and animals galore. It was just a small thing, but it felt so very Japanese.
Here in New York, the Japanese bookstores, the (good) Japanese restaurants, the random Japanese shops… they are actually run by Japanese. They remind me of my time spent in Tokyo. Perhaps it’s because it was my first time truly studying abroad, living away from home, and perhaps it’s because I met people who have become very important to me during my time there. Regardless of the reason… Japan will always hold a special place in my heart. I look forward to the day I can return again.
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