31 May, 2012

I don't believe it.

Not one bit.

What a great day.

I LOVE THIS CARD SO MUCH - from my interns!
After all that stress of planning for the End of the Year Celebration for my Parent Leadership Program! So great! The decorations were great! The parents had loads of fun. And everyone was just so helpful and nice to me. AND I got flowers!!! I've been wanting flowers for quiet some time now. What a lucky gal I am.

Usually I'm not this bland in my blog posts...but what more can I say really.

Thursday Thoughts: Bless my heart and bless yours too.

I've been talking up Alabama Shakes for the last two weeks now - rarely do I encounter a band in which I am unable to move or do anything for hours but listen to them. Seriously hitting the spot right now. Perhaps it is because of my smitten fondness for all things south and midwest.

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This past weekend I met a curious person.
This past weekend I enjoyed karaoke more than I have ever have before.
This past weekend I ate raw oysters.
This past weekend I lost one of my favorite jackets from Vietnam.
What does it look like?
It's navy blue with white trees on the pocket.
I have no idea where it went. I searched and walked all over for it. Just a reminder that memories are fleeting and things are meant to be lost. I don't like losing things.

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Yesterday I tried to run my heart out, but I easily grew tired. The lake caught my attention.

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Hold on.

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In the morning the blurred lines of flowers distract me from the rising sun. I plant my face into the pillow to ignore the nudge of the day. Useless. While my mind wants to slip back, my body decides to move forward. This will be my first summer in America in a long time - California seems to move towards a different time frame. In Vietnam, it was pretty much summer all the time. Last last last summer I was in Japan. The two after that I was in Vietnam and this one I will be in Los Angeles. Go figure.

I figure that this summer will be a good one. This year will be a good one in general. Last year was the year of the rabbit/cat and I felt uneasy about it. My very good friend Patricia told me to make bold moves. I felt uneasy about it. I didn't make any bold moves really - at least not in my head. Perhaps to the outsider I make many bold moves. But to me I do whatever feeds my soul. I trust my heart. Although sometimes I get mad at it for putting me in Los Angeles - a tough city to live in (I know really that my feelings have nothing to do with the city).

Fuck the Universe.







25 May, 2012

I think I've been avoiding myself.

I'm scared of what I'm capable of or fearful of what I am incapable of.

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Just distract me already.

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Routines are nice: Granola, Flax & Yogurt with Earl Grey tea


23 May, 2012

There are many sides of me that people don't know.

It's silly of me to assume that people know who I am by glancing at me. It would be so simple if people could understand each other by just a glance.

She likes the smell of the cold in refrigerators. Easily crushes. Rarely likes. Understands the complexity of the world. Loves to listen to music. Was once a hoola-hoop champion. Tries very hard. Is not naturally smart but cuts to the chase mentally. That is why she often zones off in things that are disinterest her or rather, she feels is useless to the pursuit of living. Things that she feels useless are minute details to things, being "right" and winning - yet she can notice patterns of life quiet easily. 

It would also be extremely boring. I suppose love would not feel the same way. The "chase" would not exist. The mystery of life would not be much a mystery any more. She loves me not, she loves me.


I have been out of wack for a bit but I'm sorta loving my out of wack-ness if you will. I particularly love sleeping with my window open. It reminds me of my air conditioned room in Vietnam. Once I discovered this, I couldn't go back to a room with no window open. My room is cold but I also like to sleep with exactly 3 blankets on my bed and 4 pillows. Since I have no curtains (yet) the sun hits me on my face in the morning, along with the sound of birds. I suppose I like my apartment for this reason. I hear lots of birds every morning - it's nice.

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I am often amazed by people's ability to resist good tasting things. Fatty things. Junk food. Such control they have. I do it too - but the way I do it is to not purchase the item - that is as much as I can do. Lately I have been jogging and I think it's helping much with my shoulder that I ruined when I spent a month looking for jobs this past november. Go figure. Who knew that I could jog 4 miles. I zone out thinking about a particular person or persons.

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It's kind of ridiculous when people find me funny. In fact it's like a high that once it starts I can't stop. It helps me relax. Acceptance, pure acceptance. People unexpectedly laughed at something I said the other day. Isn't it interesting how someone else's laughter can make you so happy?


21 May, 2012

People here are at such ease.

And it amazes me. How this is their usual. This is what is normal to them. How at ease they look and talk, smile and laugh.

20 May, 2012

Sunday chaos soothes me.

Since I tend to be an observant person, I really like it when chaos is happening around me. Not to me per se but mostly around me. This Sunday afternoon that chaos manifests itself at the Westlake/Macarthur Metro Station. As I stand at the 200 bus stop - taking in the heat - feeling it tan my skin while I am waiting and waiting I notice that there is so much commotion around me. The outsider or the passerby may also agree with me. Sizzles to the right, people in their cars talking to each other, someone yelling out "queso queso" I stand there thinking I am out of place but at the same time I'm delighted by the fact that no one seems to give a care.

If you ever get off at that station the pleasant smell of urine sort of hits your nose as you reach the surface level streets. I notice that the blue tiles to my left have not been wiped since who knows when. And the couple in front of me are groping each other and snippets of "licking" and other body parts are mentioned. Delighted I must say.

Yet there is something about Westlake that I like. Maybe it's the fact that if you replaced every Latino person with a Vietnamese person it would be just like Vietnam. I know that sounds strange, but the organized commotion that is happening around me makes me very nostalgic. Macarthur park is well known for it's "dangerous activities." There is a story that bodies are dumped in the lake. There was another story that once the lake was emptied and no bodies were found - but perhaps I am mixing this up with Echo Park Lake. Lake stories are funny. It's like there isn't too much "real nature" in L.A. so our interactions and stories with any sort of nature - like things turn out to be urban legend of sorts.

The other day I climbed into the L.A. River. L.A. has a real river that runs through it that is 52 miles long. It runs really fast and is also apparently "dangerous."

Today I touched a ginko biloba leaf. I was really excited to find ginko leaves in Chinatown near the Alpine Recreational Center. Part of this delight is due to my new appreciation for leaves after living in Vietnam for two years.

I learned many things from the girls in the Mekong Delta. Girls whose homes I had to trek through mud for. Girls who took little canoes to school. Girls whose homes were miles and miles away in the mountains and could not be reached by motorbike. Girls whose home were near rivers. Girls who woke up at 3 am to catch fish or whatever sea creature she said. Girls who picked chili for 17 cents a kilo. I learned many things from these girls and the biggest thing was a larger appreciation for trees, leaves and fruits. These girls completely schooled this Berkeley graduate in this category. I knew absolutely nothing. I knew that a tree had a trunk, branches and green leaves. These girls knew which tree bore what fruit. They could look at the leaves and know exactly what fruit it would give. We would look at a fruit and wonder what it was. There was so much curiosity to our surroundings and I absolutely fell in love with that. I started to ask questions since I knew they had so much knowledge about it.

Chi Kim! Do you know what tree this is?
No...
It's a papaya tree!
Chi Kim! Do you know what this is?
No....
It's a blah blah blah tree.

Chi Kim.

Miss Kim.

These days youth call me Miss Kim or just Miss. In Vietnam they called me Chi Kim. In English we don't use these types of monikers in our daily language. In Vietnam we did. Chi Kim sounds really enduring and I miss it very much. It was a sign of respect, it was endearing, sympathetic and so human all at once. It made you realize that they were thinking about you. They thought about your age and their age in relation to yours. Whatever they called themselves was what they thought of you. All this in a matter of seconds.

I too learned how to do this in a matter of seconds. I learned what to call myself in relation to others. When a guy would call himself Anh in an enduring tone I knew what he was trying to do. I laughed because it was so simple to tell. Things seemed much simpler in Vietnam.

I'm going to stick to my story of how I listened to my heart and it told me to be in Los Angeles. Sometimes I don't believe this and sometimes I do. I am unsure whether I had thoughts of doubt in Vietnam but I've definitely had it here in Los Angeles.

Oh well what is a wandering soul to do? One that floats like dust? A girl who travels? Whatever the heck I label myself as. Of course this is exactly what I want - unsettling discomfort - anything else I would of been out of here already.

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Time to orchestrat'

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There lays many opportunities in front of me.

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18 May, 2012

Thoughts on a Friday.

Linking artists with talent to social change and community work.

17 May, 2012

Batteries that die remind me to live.

Wednesday after thoughts.

I wake up.

I rise to the sun
I go to work
I come back home

Sometimes when I listen to music they replace the need for feelings and instead fill me up with goodness. I can't stop listening to this song below by Alabama Shakes. I once fell for someone because of a song they suggested to me, he never knew. At another time I also fell for another who made playlists for me. I remember those moments very clearly - at the time it felt so right. Of course I didn't like them just for the songs but it helps that they understood. That's all we ever want isn't it? Someone that understands us. Someone that is good looking that understands us. Ha! 

Enjoy this for me!

I like jumping off waterfalls.

She looks down because looking up may mean that she will see the blue hues not as how she intended it to be. She realizes that the possibility of giving up is probable but unlikely to happen. Relishing in moments of rising fears, her heart hears her breathe. Steady but heavy. Steady. But heavy. Heavy. She holds her breath. Pinches her nose so the water doesn't come in. Breathe. Steady. Leap.


This is one of my favorite things I have ever written. It recounts the moment that I jumped off a cliff in Luang Prabang, Laos and how scared I was. The color I recall was one of the most beautiful shades I've ever seen.  When will you see a shade of blue that encompasses curiosity, wonder and calmness all at once? This very kind gentleman with a rather melting kindness helped me overcome my fears. He saw that I wanted to jump but was scared. My coworker also saw that he saw that I wanted to jump so she blurted in her limited English something along the lines of "she wants to jump!" 


He tells me to follow him and so I do. 


First we do the rope jump off the tree. He holds my hand as I climb up the tree. The jump hurt as fuck.


Then he asked if I wanted to jump off the cliff.


I don't know.
I'll do it first and you'll see. 


So he jumps for me. He jumps for me so I could be less scared. He tells me that the cliff is slippery so I should be careful. I hold this stranger's hand - surprised by his kindness.


I'm much taller than you, and see I don't even hit the ground. You'll be fine.


So I stand there. I breathe. The moments before jumping made me write the sentences above. And I jump. Then I jump again and again and again running on an adrenaline rush. I was so happy. 


I stand on the side shivering. He comes to say goodbye and tell me that he saw that I was jumping like crazy! He smiles knowing what he helped me do. He then walks away and winks goodbye to me and I never see him again.




I just want to thank all the wonderful friends and people in my life that constantly help me overcome my fears. That constantly see the beauty in me. That believe in me. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart thank you. I want to give up sometimes, but I am reminded always by your presence and spirits. I've learned that life will not get easier. It's just going to be like this. Full of ups and downs. I'll never feel settled. I'll probably never feel at peace - I'll save that for when I pass. 


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I wonder what happens when I can tap into my writing at any given time. Perhaps I can train my brain to do so. Perhaps I will be that story teller after all.


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Where has all the color gone?


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Do you still dream in colors? I do. Always.

13 May, 2012

Realizing the coward in myself.

And the need to be less cowardly because of my insecurities.
Today I kept remembering myself at my worst because perhaps the night prior I felt like I was acting my worst. 

Let me tell you what it looks like - the coward in myself looks mean. It tries to be tough, it's defensive, immature, hurtful and inconsiderate. It doesn't give people the time or day. It makes excuses. It's Ugly and I hate it. I spite it. It's particularly unfriendly, closed off, and something that just makes me cringe when I think about it. 

I don't really understand it, but it's there, and it's scary. 

Let me do the qwerty.

The keyboard as we know it now, according to this book I read, was invented because the person wanted to people to type slower, not faster so that the keys on the typewriter don't stick together. Overtime, I suppose human kind evolved and learned how to type faster with this new keyboard system.

I also suppose this is why my hands hurt when I type too much because this system doesn't really allow us to type faster but is suppose to make us type slower.

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Where are my postage stamps?

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The other day someone asked me what I was doing tomorrow. I said I was cleaning my room, in trying to think of something that would make my day productive. Then he said that he tries not to say that because he knows if he says that he would never clean his room. Wise words my friend. I always clean my room unplanned as well.

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I still feel very uncomfortable in this city.




06 May, 2012

I won't be here forever.

Just wanted to remind you and myself.