the last, lengthy US post

The next time I write here, I'll be in Paris. Weird. I'm taking a break from packing and stressing out. My friend, Cher, just gave me a cd, so I'm listening to it and importing it into itunes. I'm making my "leaving" playlist. Some songs that'll cheer me up and get me excited about leaving. I'll post it down below.

The ninja is packed!


My suitcase is...half-packed.


Kuya woke me up this morning before he went to work, and we said goodbye. I cried a bit, but I was super tired, so I fell right back to sleep. I wish he could be there to see me off, but these things happen. I told him I loved him--I rarely say stuff like that--and, that I'll see him again.

I just want to formally thank everyone for seeing me, talking to me, helping me before I go. I love you guys, and you all make it very hard to leave. Some more than others--you know who you are. Saying goodbye has never been so hard. Take care of yourselves, be well, and I'll see you when I get back.

love love love,
elaine xo

the "leaving" playlist
This playlist also includes songs from my friend Noriko's cd, but I don't have the track names or bands. These are just songs that I've been wanting to listen to right now and feel that are appropriate for my journey. Check it!

1. New by No Doubt: So energetic, hopeful. The line "And I can't believe I've had this chance now" says it all.
2. Young Folks by Peter, Bjorn, and John: Lovely like a spring day.
3. Where's My Head by Copeland: Weird at first, but interesting and reminds me of Coppola's The Virgin Suicides.
4. Snake Eyes by David Holmes: Just had to have some David Holmes in there. I love the soundtracks for the Ocean's Eleven series. Jazzy cool.
5. Someone to Call my Lover by Janet Jackson: Evokes some memories of a boy I'm leaving behind.
6. Steal My Sunshine by Len: Poppy, fruity, sticky like a popsicle melt-down.
7. Shadow of the Day by Linkin Park: Come on. Just listen to it. They wrote it for me.
8. Dashboard by Modest Mouse: I love their lyrics.
9. Here It Goes Again by OK GO: Airport treadmills. I'm just kidding. This song just pumps me up.
10. Face Down by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus: Don't know why this is here. I just like it.
11. Baby Britain by Elliott Smith: Upbeat song, soft whispery voice--lovely.
12. Such Great Heights by The Postal Service: This song never gets old to me. It was on my "leaving" playlist when I went to Cambridge.
13. Bottle Up and Explode! by Elliott Smith: Reminds me of San Francisco. Check the "XO" album.

Okay, that's it. A bientot!

1 day left

I have barely begun packing. Part of me can't grasp that I'm leaving. I found my old packing list from when I went to Cambridge, and I'm using that to help me pack. I'm taking basically more than a week's worth of clothing, three pairs of shoes, a load of my electronics (cam, vid cam, laptop, batt charger), and toiletries. I did a lot of stuff today and yesterday though to get me ready:

--I got traveler's checks at AAA. They don't charge a percentage if you're a member.
--Laundry.
--Bought my fave health products that I'm not sure they'll have in Paris and laptop sleeve (Fry's is the ultimate nerd heaven).
--Cleaned my computer and backed up some files.
--Did various stuffs at the bank.

Recieved two mixed cds from my friend Noriko. They're amazing, and she is truly an artist when it comes to making mixed cds. Thanks Noriko!

Today, dinner with the fam. Lovely, lovely. Dad marinated steak. Mom steamed green beans that were picked fresh from our backyard. Kuya opened a bottle of French red wine. I set the table and served the rice. We ate in our backyard--it was nice outside, and our AC isn't working. I said grace, and Dad told stories about his days in Spain.

Spent time with Kuya since he's leaving for Seattle tomorrow. We went to some guy so he could buy billiard cues. We're seeing Superbad tonight. I'm really going to miss him because we share the same bizarre sense of humor that I don't have with anyone else. And he's my brother, come on! He might visit in the winter. He loves watches, so when he visits we might go to Switzerland.

I'll pack tomorrow, make copies of my passport and itinerary for the parentals, and finish tying up loose ends.

it's not all fun and games

It's hard to ignore the fact that bad things can happen. Not all trips are safe, end happily. There are bad people around who will hurt you for your money or other things. My uncle's friend who visited Spain was put into a chokehold until she was unconscious while they took her purse and money belt. She was walking down a strange dark alley at night. Anything can happen, but it's up to me to be on my guard and not do anything stupid.

Today, Dad was giving me his talk about protecting myself. I'm pretty cautious, and it takes me a while to trust people, but I've got to be on my guard abroad all the time. It's like a switch that must be on 24/7. It's fun when I turn it into a mind game, the kind of thing assassins or spies would train for. Looking for exits, checking if you're being followed. I've carried a knife with me ever since my Dad gave it to me when I turned 17. Having an older brother who could surprise tickle me or put me in a fake chokehold has quickened my reflexes. I could scream loudly if I really wanted to, and my karate teacher once told me that he liked the way I delivered a kick. I have all these things, but still. Dad says, "If anything happens...go for the kill." A scary quote, but I will do what I have to do to save my life or the lives of others.

I'm not going to lie and tell you that I love being a woman all the time. Sometimes I really don't. Guys have it easier. I hate being the prey. I hate the automatic assumptions. From what I learned about working on film shoots (where the majority of people on the crew are males), I'm my role first (whether it be assistant camera or director), and I'm a girl second. My sex has nothing to do with my job. My ability, my knowledge is sexless. I have a slogan at Gungirl Productions--my production company with my friend--and that's "Don't let your boobs get in the way of your filmmaking". Once you bring your gender into it, you lose everything. Let's stop arguing and make this film. Okay, enough about gender roles. I ramble.

All I'm saying is that everyone who travels has to be careful and not stupid and always aware. Girls, carry pepper spray, get your own drinks, and stay with friends. Guys, don't be stupid assholes and drink too much.

lists are good

Things that are funny to me:

--Mom at Costco throwing a brick of cheddar cheese into the shopping cart
--Dad arguing about how we don't need so much cheese and who's going to eat it
--Me screaming when Kuya almost hit a pigeon with my car
--The line for food at Costco
--That ridiculous kiss in Spider-Man when MJ is kissing the upside-down Peter Parker

I am unbearably happy. I have reasons to be unbearably happy:

--I can't stop thinking about funny people and things I love and will miss.
--Because a lovely boy took a bus from SF to see me before I go.
--Because I'm leaving in a couple of days.

I can't sleep, and I wake up early. This excitement is killer! Also, I've been waking up wanting to vomit. Is it excitement or nervousness? Both?! In high school, I always vomited right before an essay test in my AP English class because I was nervous. We knew what we had to study, but he never gave us a prompt. It was also excitement too, all that literature running through my head. All I could think was, "What's my teacher going to ask of me? What can I tell him that's never been told before? What will I do to stand out of all these other essays? How can I make my essay amazing?" I guess this is the same thing. What's going to be asked of me? How can I make this trip amazing?

J.D salinger wrote that writers only get asked two questions when they die: "Were your stars out? Were you busy writing your heart out?" That's the only kind of writing (and living) I want to do.

nothing important happened today

It's been hectic the last couple of days, but I've been getting a lot done. It's really hot here though, which is nice compared to the cold, foggy SF summer. I've been working on my tan.

Some friends from SF came down, and we met at Universal Studios. They ended up leaving late, and I was early, so I had an hour to myself to enjoy some coffee and do some people watching on the Citywalk. When we did get in we got drenched on Jurassic Park and dried off in the Backdraft attraction. All in all a good time.

Hung out with Kuya in his lovely home in the valley (San Fernando Valley). It was super hot there, so we just watched his Tivo-ed episodes of Entourage and Go, which isn't too bad of a movie. And Timothy Olyphant is pretty hot.

Did some errands for Grandma. Saw my optometrist. Bought my International Student Identity Card, which will be good for discounts here and abroad. Right now, I'm organizing my address book and gathering addresses so that I can send people postcards from abroad. It's such a bugger filling out my address book.

summer reflection

This is a lengthy post. Written somewhere's between 1:30 am and now. Beware. It's also a bit telling, and I was wary about posting it, but it did make a serious impact on my summer and me as a person, so read on and enjoy, dear friends.

Wow. What a summer. The posts on this blog don't even sum up or totally describe what this summer has meant to me. Or me to this summer. If that's possible, and I think it is.

Firstly, I turned 21, which is the all-American turning point. I can drink. I can gamble. Wow, all vices. Anyway, it was a turning point, and I didn't think it would be. I did sort of save myself, and I rarely drank before 21. There was just one occasion since C. turned 21 months before I did, and I wanted to drink then, but that was probably it.

But the major thing, the HUGE thing, and it will seem so little and so trivial to you, but let me let you in on it first and then explain. Here it is, the major act that I did that is totally not part of my normal behavior is...I told a boy I liked him. That I had a crush on him for the past year.

Okay, okay, okay. Small, I know, just that first part. And in this day, and at my age, I even agree. 12 year olds tell other 12 year olds they like each other. The "past year" part though adds a punch, I think. And the fact that I'm 21, and that this is the first time ever I told a boy I liked him.

The thing is...I am old-fashioned. My aunt once referred to me as the "nun". I like letting fate, or destiny, intervene i.e. do the work. I believed, in my heart of hearts, that if something was meant to happen, it would happen, and it would not be because I made a daring choice or set myself up for hurt or took a chance. No, I didn't like taking chances. I didn't like getting hurt. I didn't like trying things knowing that one of the two outcomes would be me not getting where I wanted to be. And that meant missing out on a lot of things. Remember, this is the girl who wouldn't go outside through a crowd of people to get a plate of meatballs (see post titled "the meatball story") unless there was some sort of prize in the end. This is that girl.

You have no idea how crippling this kind of mentality is. This has been my past adolescence. And a good part of my college years. Because it's so easy, and nice, and comfortable to be shy and not say what I really feel and then just go blog or write about it somewhere and let that be my outlet. It was so easy. But this isn't a way to live.

I have books of my reported shyness. I have a blog somewhere on the internet (that you will never find, hopefully) about my first 2 years of college in which my pen name was Prufrock*(see footnotes). I had loyal readers who begged me, urged me, to change. I didn't. I mean, I thought I did, but I really didn't. The blog got a bit depressing, and I moved on.

So you see, it's not small. It's not miniscule, telling a boy I liked him. Not to me. A regular "normal" girl might have done it at least once before hitting 21. I am clearly not normal, and this was clearly a turning point. Even more so than my 21st birthday**. And it really changed everything. This crush became more of burden with each month that went by that I didn't tell him. And it would go away and then come back, and ugh, what a mess. But finally letting him know...that felt so good. I had reasoned in my head that it wouldn't even matter what he felt about me, whether he'd like me back or not. It would just be better to tell him, to rid myself of this shyness in one simple act. I, as I like to call it, "set myself up for hurt" (because not being shy always ends negatively to me, hence the "hurt") but at least it would be done. And even if it did hurt, it would be temporary. I seriously figured he didn't feel the same way about me, but at least I said it, got it out before I left for Paris, and maybe I can start new.

I did it though. Finally, finally. And you know the nice thing about taking a chance is, about telling someone you like him? I found out that he likes me too.

What have I been missing all these years? Argh. What a Prufrock I am.

FOOTNOTES
* T.S. Eliot's patron saint of shyness and not taking chances. Read his "Love Song for J. Alfred Prufrock"
**Actually turning 21 did help and give it some edge as I did tell said boy how I felt about him the day after I turned 21.

je ne dors pas

I can't sleep. It's 1:13 in the morning, and I just had a lovely day at Universal Studios with friends, and I can't sleep. How unlikely is that? It makes sense though. I'm less than two weeks away.

I just can't stop thinking about how horribly bad my French is, how crazy it's going to be when I get there, and all the people I'm leaving behind. It's insane to grasp. I once equated leaving with dying. I mean, I'm saying goodbye to all these people I care about, I'm doing things I'm going to miss, and I'm going somewhere very far away...At least I can be visited. At least it's not actually death. God, I'm rambling, please forgive me, but it is 1 am.

lovely news!

My brother proposed to his girlfriend this past Sunday! Yes, I should have written about it in my last post, but I wasn't sure if they wanted to keep under wraps. He started by going to her parents' house and asking them for their permission--so sweet! Kuya is old school. And the Mom replied with, "YES! YES! YES!" And the father was just stunned. Kuya asked, looking towards the father, "Mr. A?" And the mother just answered for him, "YES! YES! YES!" Haha.

Then he went to her work (she's a pharmacist just like Kuya), and she got angry at him because she wanted them to meet at a party that they were going to. And he propsed to her in a parking garage at her work. Not exactly the most romantic of places, but totally cute nonetheless. She had no idea. And days before, he'd ask her douchebag questions like, "How long does it take to get a ring? Two months?" And she wouldn't answer him at all. She'd just stare at him in angry silence. Haha.

The ring is absolutely GORGEOUS!!! I don't usually like jewelry, but this one is lovely. The diamond is an heirloom, given to Kuya by my grandmother. Kuya got it set in a vintage style ring. I lurve vintage. It looks like the ring has history, and it doesn't look like any other ring I have ever seen. God lovely.

Kuya had planned on proposing before I left, and the wedding is set for next fall, when I'm back. I'm glad he did propose, because now I've been spending time with Kuya and his fiancee, Kat, as they look at places to have the reception. Neato! I'm also a bridesmaid!!! I've never been a bridesmaid before. Fun fun fun.

To read Kat's post on her engagement, check it here!: http://karrogan.blogspot.com/

it's getting close!

Wow, I'm less than three weeks away, and I'm not really sweating it. Seriously. There are times when I feel a bit scared for the future, and then the feeling evaporates and leaves behind all this excitement: I'm going to live in Paris! I'm going to improve my French! I'm going to meet loads of people from all over! These thoughts take over, and then I am okay. It's going to be okay.

I received my international driver's license at AAA for $15. I bought a raincoat when I went shopping with my friend Cher (aka Cherilin). I've set my winter clothes aside so that Mom can ship it to me. Everything is slowly coming to a close, winding down, leaving me to enjoy time with my family and friends.

Went to Coronado Beach down in San Diego for my cousin's daughter's birthday this past weekend, and it was absolutely gorgeous outside. And I walked along the beach with my cousin and brother's girlfriend, and we talked about boys and traveling, and it was lovely. Went to a casino with my Grandma, brother, and brother's girlfriend, and we had a grand old time too. It so weird knowing that I won't see them for close to a year. What can I do to somehow make up for all that lost time that I won't have with them? I can't. I have to make things count now.

Right now I'm cleaning my room, donating old clothes, and just throwing things away or recycling them. I'm listening to the Bottle Rocket soundtrack. It's very soothing and certain songs remind me of funny parts in the film. I can't go anywhere right now cuz I don't have a car, but that's okay.

visa

I just got my visa today at the French consulate in Los Angeles on Wilshire Blvd. My appointment was this morning, and Dad took me. We first got breakfast at this place he used to frequent when he was still working. It's called Grinder or The Grinder, and it's on Figueroa and 28th. I had an omelette, and it was tasty. Dad had pancakes.

We arrived pretty late, but it was okay. I walked to the visa section, which was behind this door that had a window, but it was covered up, and I don't know why, but I was scared. I really had no reason to be because behind it were all these chairs and some people, and even one of my classmates, Lucia! We saw each other, and I was all, "Hey!!!" And then I piped down because everyone looked at me, and even the visa ladies behind the glass heard me.

She was ahead of me in line. The girl, she was young and had an accent, called me up, and I gave her my passport and application. She asked me if I spoke French, and I said, "Un peu." Which means "a little". She was really happy though that I spoke French, I think, because after that she was really nice and sweet. I paid and waited for the other French lady to call me up.

When she did, she was really curt and asked for all my papers, and "where's this?" and "do you have that?". After she had everything, she finally took a good look at me, and I was just all smiles because I was so happy about how smoothly this was going. And she said in a light accent, "You stay away from French boys!"

And I laughed and said sure. It felt like a compliment. I told her that I won't even look at them. She added, "French boys are more aggressive than the American ones." And I said probably. She told me what to do when I get to France. She gave me back my passport and even Lucia's and bid me farewell, and I said merci.

Then Lucia said when I sat back down next to her, "She was so nice to you!" And I just shrugged. We exchanged numbers and might hang out together before we both leave for Paris.

Afterwards, Dad and I just drove around LA. It was nice. He wanted to drive by his work, and we did. Then we headed home.

So I'm done with the most important stuffs. I saw my doctor, and I'm healthy. I saw my dentist, and she said I'll get my wisdom teeth out when I get back next summer. Now I need to see my optometrist. Today, I'm going to go get my international driver's license. Yay!

the meatball story

Okay, enough sad things. I have to stop being "saddo". I first saw the word "saddo" in a message from my cousin Fah to my brother Noel (also known as "Kuya" in recent posts). And I've adopted it and have been saying it. It's also fun to say. Say it out loud: "Saddo". Here's a link that explains the word: saddo.

So the meatball story. It's a funny story, and I've been saving it for after the sadness that is leaving my friends in San Francisco. It's truly a testament to me and my brother's social awkwardness and just one of many interesting and funny adventures that we share together.

Two weeks ago when I was here in LA, Kuya and I went to a wedding for a family friend. She went to my high school (Rosary) and was in the same year as my brother who went to Rosary's brother school (Servite). We went to the Mass first. We sat in the back since we were late. I asked him if he was getting communion, and he said no, and I said, "Is it because all your high school classmates are here?" I don't remember what he said, but he didn't get communion. What a dork.

We arrived at the reception that was in the heart of Orange County at this golf course. Kuya and I always make fun of Orange County, and I think we both secretly knew that this was going to be a riot. Sometimes, when we see some emo boy walking down the street or some skinny boy with tight pants on, we'll just look at each other, and then start laughing. Outside on the deck, there were loads of people heading to the open bar and socializing. I'd go and get drinks from the bar for my brother and parents, and we stayed inside in this sort of darkened sitting area, away from the crowd, but perfect for people watching.

Kuya then started eyeing all these people who had small plates of appetizers. I didn't know where they were getting the food. Here is what transpired.
Kuya: Go get me some meatballs.
Me: What?! No you go get meatballs. I'm not even hungry.
Kuya: I think there's meatballs and fried dumplings. They're outside on the deck. GO GET ME SOME!!!
Me: NO! You get your own! Why don't you want to go out there?!
Kuya: Why don't you want to go out there?!
Me: 'Cuz there's people out there.
Kuya: (silence)
Me: Why are you shy?
Kuya: Why are YOU shy?

This conversation went on for a while...I tried going out there to get his stupid meatballs, but then chickened out at the last second. We even prowled around the lobby area if we could see exactly where the appetizers are outside without having to go outside. It was fruitless.

Kuya: Okay...if you get me meatballs and dumplings, I will buy your backpack for Paris.
Me: Really?
Kuya: Yes. How much did you plan on spending?
Me: At the most $150.
Kuya: Okay.
Me: So you're willing to pay $150 for a small plate of meatballs and dumplings just because you don't want to have to see or talk to people.
Kuya: Just go!

I went. I thought about the deal for a second, and my Dad just told me to go already and get the stupid meatballs. I did it and was pretty stealthy about it, and I didn't have to talk to anyone. What dorks we are. What hermits. We won't even get a freaking plate of meatballs if it means having to navigate through a crowd.

goodbye san francisco: the last 2 days...

Everything is such a blur. From the packing, the lack of sleep, and the drive home I can't remember it all. And at one point I even fused the last 2 days in nor cal into this great, huge day in which so much had happened, some of it very personal, that I won't even share all of it with you. Sorry folks.

Day 7, Sunday
Breakfast with friends at a lovely cafe near the house. It was my first time there. I had French toast (appropriate no?) and potatoes on the side, and I barely finished either of them. I had no appetite for obvious reasons.

Went to see Sunshine with C., and it's funny because we saw my friend Jason there too. It was either Sunshine or Rescue Dawn, and we chose the lesser of the two downers. It was pretty deece, and I love Danny Boyle, and sci-fi, but this combination didn't totally work for me. It had some good parts though.

Went to my Grandma's (Dad's aunt) house and had a lovely dinner there. I wanted to see her before I left because she's been so hospitable to me and I was always welcome in their home in San Francisco. They have an amazing house, a truly San Franciscan home that could be a setting for something like The Royal Tenenbaums. My parents drove up that night and met up with me there too. I went home early though since I still needed to pack.

Day 8, Monday: the last day
Woke up pretty tired. I had a long but an amazing night, and I couldn't get to sleep because there was so much to think about. Everything was ready and downstairs.

C. and I got coffee, our last time getting coffee. Ben came over and he and C. helped me move out when my parents came with the truck. C. even called in sick to work and missed part of her class to help. It was so nice of them to be there for me when I left.

When I said goodbye to them, I cried. I couldn't help it; and I couldn't hold it in, as hard as I tried. But I hugged them, and then drove off following my parents in the truck.

And I swear that was the hardest drive home in my entire life. I've never driven from SF to LA alone, but I was so glad I was because there was so much to think about. And it would be so comfortable, so nice to be able to stay and go on with my warm, routine life in SF, but that was not going to happen. The choice of going abroad for a year had really cemented itself. I had willingly chosen a difficult path, and there as no turning back now. Even though there were so many good reasons for staying, I couldn't. And that was my choice, and I will have to deal with that.

Got home pretty late and pretty tired. I unpacked everything the next day.

goodbye san francisco day 5 (with more details) and 6

Ouchies. My head hurts. It might be because I've been averaging about 4 hours of sleep in the last three days, but it was totally worth it. And I should be sleeping now, but, I can't help but want to type. I've remembered a few more things about Day 5, and I wanted to write about it.

Day 5, Friday
Packing, packing, packing. I biked to the store to get some things for the picnic the next day, and I was sad because I thought that that might be the last time I bike to a store. Down here in so cal, nothing is bikeable with my single speed unless I want to die of exhaustion. I thought of buying a cheap bike in Paris, but with the new bike rental thing they started in Paris called Velib maybe I will get to bike to the store to get things. Sweet!

C. and I went to Costco for one last hot dog hurrah and to get foods for the picnic. We laughed at all the crazy people buying bulk things and getting angry because the line for food was so long. You people need to relax. Yes, hot dogs are $1.50 and come with a bottomless drink, but just chill out. A worker spilled a tub of mouthwash down an aisle, and we wanted to laugh, but we felt so bad about it, and people didn't care and would just run their carts right through the mouthwash spillage. We avoided the spill, went down another aisle, and laughed then.

When we came home, we watched our favorite quoteable film Kelly's Heroes. God, Donald Sutherland is such a riot in that film.

Day 6, Saturday
PICNIC! Oh what fun. C. and I found a lovely spot in front of the lake. It took us a while to start the fire. And we were laughing because everyone around us had this amazing fire, and we had nothing. But we got it going, and my friend Jason arrived to help us out too.

Yay yay yay more people arrive and bring goodies. My friend Brandon brought a frisbee, Stacy brought tongs (which I needed for the barbeque), Jason brought drinks, Ben brought ice cream, and my friend Andy brought me a lovely present: 50 cards with different walking paths all throughout Paris. Yay! It's already in the suitcase.

I am so thankful for the people who came and brought things and for the people who took time out of their busy lives to just bring themselves and say goodbye to me. Here are some ducks I saw at the lake: Later that night, Brandon and Ben came over to our place, and we had drinks. C. bought sake and vodka. Brandon brought wine, and Ben brought other alcoholic stuff. We watched tv mostly, passing the remote around since no one really wanted to choose something to watch. And C. was so funny, because she's so talkative when she's sauced, and she kept wanting to play soccer (it was 1 or 2am) and wanted to watch the anime Berserk. She finally got her wish with the anime, and we all conked out after the first episode. I could not have asked for a nicer night.

I will re-cap my last day and the drive home later. Nighty night.

goodbye san francisco day 4 and 5

Day 4, Thursday
Woke up with total purpose. I started packing my dishes, wrapping them in paper. Then I packed my winter clothes in my backpack, the new one I just bought. It's 3/4 packed, maybe less. I walked around the house with it on to see what it felt like. I packed maybe 4 day's worth of clothes including a heavy winter coat, and it didn't feel that bad.

Went to see Live Free or Die Hard with my friend Ben. We both have been wanting to see the film for a while. It was really good! Lots of great action sequences, and Justin Long was a good sidekick--not the whiny, annoying kind. We then ate at Tani's Kitchen, a little Japanese hole in the wall that's oh-so tasty and cheap. We took it back to my place where we watched parts of End of Days with C.

Later, I met with my friend Noriko on campus because I wanted to see her before I left. We had chai tea lattes at Borders--thanks for the latte! We talked, then conversed over books. We took a photo with a bookshelf in the background. It felt very Wes Anderson-esque. Then we parted ways--so sad! I asked her if she wanted anything, and she told me that she wanted me to intricately describe a dessert to her. She loves desserts. I will do so in my future posts. I asked her if she could make a mix cd for me for one of my travels to the countryside of France that I could listen to on the train since she loves making mix cds. Yay! I lurve music. All she had to do was mention Arcade Fire, and I was instantly thrilled.

Day 5, Friday
Started packing some more. My friend Jason from my last job called me if I wanted to go to lunch, and we ate at my favorite Pho place around the corner. It was tasty. Especially since it was a cold day.

Then we drove by the park where my picnic is taking place. I wanted to scope it out. C. came home, and we went to Costco to buy things for the picnic. We watched Reign of Fire after 'cuz Matthew Mcounnaghey (sp?), Christian Bale, and Gerard Butler are in it, and C. calls that a "trifecta". I was just happy to watch because Christian Bale's in it.

goodbye san fran day 2

Yesterday (Day 2 Tuesday) was ever so loverly. Woke up and had my usual tea after dropping my roommate Catherine at school since I was going to pick her up later so I can go to Berkeley and get my backpack.

We headed to Wilderness Exchange. I read about this place on Yelp when I was looking for the North Face outlet, and it had a lot of great reviews so I thought I might check it out.

I was immediately greeted by the salesman Jim who had cool dreadlocks and looked like he came straight from climbing or a camping trip. I told him what I needed, and he took me straight to the backpacks. I asked him loads of questions, which he helpfully answered, and then he left us alone to look around.

I was immediately drawn to this one:
It was in my price range (it cost $119), and it was totally cute, which wasn't really a requirement, but it helps. The brand also looked French, or at least French Canadian. I admit it--I do care about brands. And I thought, "Hey--maybe people'll think I'm French and not mess around with me."

Anyway, I tried it on, and it fit very well. There was a crate full of sandbag weights, and Catherine and I stuffed 10 pound and 5 pound sandbags in it to mimic what it'll feel like when it's packed. Then I walked around the store in it for a couple of minutes. It felt good. It had everything I was looking for: compression straps, rain cover, and it was top and bottom loading. It was perfect. I bought it.

Then we headed over to the North Face outlet. They had loads of stuff that was still pretty expensive, but North Face is pretty expensive. I was looking for some sort of sporty winter jacket, anything that might keep me warm during the cold winter months. We headed to the back where there were loads of open boxes bursting with jackets on rows of tables. A total chaotic mess of goretex. I didn't think I'd find anything. We went down the row of women's and I plunged my hand into a box bringing out a brown down jacket. I put it on, and it fit! It was perfection. Catherine got mad at me for finding something so quickly. I held onto it and found another that had a fur hood attached and took that one instead. It was $100, which I was totally prepared to pay, and the lady rung it up and it was $50. I wanted to cry. How lucky am I. It's warm, cozy, waterproof and totally cute for Paris.

Back in the city, we went to Mitchell's for the best ice cream on Earth. Or at least in San Francisco. C. had chocolate, and I had strawberries n' cream. We sat on a bench in front and missed the early afternoon ice cream rush.

Later, I had dinner with my good cinema friends Brian and Ryan. They can't make it to my party. Brian actually left for LA today. We ate at Kiki Sushi on 9th and Irving, and it was very tasty. I also lurve that place because they have loads of Miyazaki's anime on its walls. Very cute and friendly place for cheap Japanese. Brian gave me this cute little guy seen on my new backpack:
He's a NINJA! I lurve him--thanks Brian! I'm taking him everywhere with me so that I can take pics of him wherever he goes. It's going to be fun. Like Amelie with the gnome.

We also went to Yancy's Saloon, just up the street. Brian bought me an apple martini which was really awesome of him. He had a white russian, like the Dude, and Ryan had scotch and soda water. I don't remember the name of the scotch. It's a cool bar, very chill since it was only a Tuesday night, and actually the first bar I've been to here since turning 21.

We said our goodbyes (sad!), and I hugged Brian twice since I won't see him for a while!!! Hopefully he'll be down in LA doing sound on numerous films when I return--goodbye Brian! I hugged Ryan anyway since I'll see him Saturday night.

Afterwards, I headed to Tart to Tart to get some coffee since my friend Ben was stopping by after work and he gets off around midnight. That place brings back memories since I used to sit in the cafe when I was spending parts of my summer in SF with my Kuya ("older brother" in Tagalog). He went to UCSF. I'd sit there and write or people watch. Good times. I was young, and I wasn't in college yet, and I loved to write and I loved film, and I still wasn't sure what I really wanted to do with my life, but I knew that it would come to me, and I wasn't scared.

Came home and watched Kelly's Heroes with C.. It's one of our favorite films. Telly Savalas and Donald Sutherland are amazing. Then Ben came over and we watched some random stuff from a Metal Gear Solid trailer to Young Guns II to bits of anime. It was fun. Then I kicked him out since I was getting tired.

So...a good day.

goodbye san fran week: day 1

I arrived yesterday in the Bay area. I'm back for a week or so before I bring everything down to So Cal for good. It's so weird being here for such a short time and saying goodbye.

I was driving across the Bay Bridge into the city and listening to Elliott Smith's "Bottle Up and Explode!" (XO album) which is perfect for driving across the Bay Bridge because it starts sort of slow and times perfectly with the ascent and then when you finally hit the middle, the song's fast and it's nice with all the orange street lights and everyone speeding to the city. You can almost believe that everyone's listening to the same song, and it makes you happy because maybe they're going somewhere nice, like a party or dinner or a club or even home, and all I could think about was my home for the past school year.

I was sad, at first. But it seems like it's time for a different scenery and a change. I've become comfortable. The same bike route to school. The visit to Trader's Joes every other week for soy milk. I need change; I fear ruts. I need to grow. San Francisco has been good to me these past three years. I'm too soft. And now Paris...Paris is going to be mean and rude to me, I can feel it. But I need to experience it. I need to know.

I planned a picnic/barbeque with friends this Saturday. I'm also hanging out with people althroughout the week to say goodbye. I've already said goodbye to my friend Emilyn who's leaving for the Phillippines. She's my first goodbye here, I'm pretty sure. It hit me that I won't see her for a year. It felt so terrible, and then it went away. We both accepted it. The year will go by fast. We'll see each other next summer.

Tomorrow, day 2 of goodbye, includes dinner with a friend, and I'm going to go find a new backpack.

finally finally

My passport came in the mail today. Yes! It came by Fedex. I actually paid for the USPS express mail envelope for when it comes back to me, but they sent it Fedex. So that $16.25 is gone. Maybe I can get a refund.
The one on the left is my old one, and the one on the right is the new one. That little square on the bottom of the new one is the new microchip logo that makes processing in the airports easier. Supposedly. We'll see.

Anyway, I'm just so happy it came, and I can leave this country. I immediately went online and made an appointment with the French consulate to get my visa. Usually you can get your visa the same day. Mine will be in the first week of August. I'm really happy that I'm getting mine here in LA. I heard that it's pretty bad in SF. Appointments start after the day I leave, which is the 23rd.

Yay!!! It's finally coming together. I was looking through my new passport, and it has all these great quotes whenever I turn the top of the visa pages where I'll get stamped whenever I visit a new country:

"Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, in order to assure the survival and the success of liberty." -- John F. Kennedy.

I saw quotes like this with every turn of the page, and it made me want to cry. Because I thought it ironic that these quotes are in my passport, the one thing that ables me to leave my country that I honestly love and explore new ones.

And for the second time in my life, I felt so happy, so proud to be an American. So lucky to be born in this great nation to amazing parents who are willing to let their daughter go and explore and find herself in a place far from home. Thanks Mom and Dad. Thank you Kuya. This is the best gift I'll ever receive.

passeport

I absolutely detest the whole passport process.

Really, it's my fault. I turned in the wrong form, the DS 82, which is for renewals. I thought I'd be able to renew. But it's really the DS 11 that I needed to do. I called the passport people, and they told me that they were sorry for not letting me know that I did the wrong form, but that as soon as I send in the new one, they'll get my passport out to me. Argh!

I can't make an appointment with the French consulate for my visa without my passport. So until then, I'm still in passport visa limbo.

I'm in LA right now, just getting loads of stuff done and hanging out with family and friends. Tomorrow, I'm going to REI with Kuya (my older brother) so that I can check out their backpacks. I plan to travel with a suitcase and a backpack. It's weird that I'm packing or a year. I don't plan on bringing a lot anyway. Bare essentials.

I found my old packing list for when I went to Cambridge University for their study abroad program. Brings back old memories. I took a class on Alfred Hitchhock and one for War and Chivalry. It was lots of fun, and I prefer Cambridge over Oxford. I didn't pack that much for that trip either.

Here are the packs I like so far and fit my budget:
The North Face Woman's Terra 40:

The North Face Woman's Akila 40:

ma mere

I told my Mom about my housing plans, and she went ahead (without me knowing!) and emailed a French professor about whether or not living in Montmartre is a good idea. The professor advised her that although it's a pictoresque place, the area is not safe, especially around the Pigalle metro which is nearby the red light district where there are a lot of porn shops and hookers. Yech!

And even though that flat is not near Pigalle, Mom is still wary and would rather have me live in the Latin Quartier where there are many students. I love how she does stuff like this because I know she worries about her little girl going abroad. She loves me, and she doesn't want me to get hurt. I love you too Mom! I bet grandma worried about her coming to the States when she was my age. I can just imagine Grandma saying, "I don't want you living in Chicago!" Haha. And she didn't. She lived in Peoria. History repeats itself in strange ways.

So, my dream of living an Amelie/starving student-writer lifestyle in Montmartre is gone, for the moment. I'm going to wait until I actually get to France to find a place to live, which is the smart thing to do. I guess I've been just too excited about living there that I want to start everything. I made a resolution when I turned 21 to live for the present, and finding an apartment in Paris while I'm still in SF is not living for the present. If I take care of the present, then the future will take care of itself. So I gotta take care of things here like see my dentist and doctor and optometrist and all that. Bah! The present it not fun.

chambre de bonne

I think I found my new home in the 18th arrondissement! I'm currently communicating with a girl who is renting out a studio in Montmartre, which is in the northern part of Paris and closer to Paris VIII-St. Denis where I'll be attending classes. It's not for sure yet. I've always wanted to live in Montmartre and fulfill my Amelie fantasy, and I've been on Paris craigslist everyday looking for a place to stay.

The flat has a full kitchen and bathroom, a loft where my bed will be, and it's fully furnished. It's super cute, and close to the open markets and metro. I hope I get it, but if not, that's cool too. I heard it's not too difficult to find a place to live. The plan is that we arrive on the 25th of August, and we're given university housing for 10 days and within those 10 days, we're supposed to find a place to stay. And they said that almost everyone finds a place to stay that they are happy with.

I wanted to live alone in a studio and not with roommates because, well, I'm a "loner", as my Dad called it. No, but seriously, I've been sharing a room for the last three years, and it's been really great, no complaints, but I'd like to try the experience of living alone and being more indie. It'll be good for me. My Dad, when he was stationed in Spain, lived by himself, and I'm sort of following in his footsteps.

In other news, I just got back from Vegas and got lucky since I just turned 21 too. Came home with $700 bucks after shelling out $300 on the slots. So a profit of $400 which is not too shabby, I think. Money for Paris. Yay!