post 23: or one is the loneliest number

I've always liked the number 23. Always felt that it was a good luck number. I was born on the 23rd. And this is my 23rd post.

So it's my last week here. Sad but true. Actually, I'm not really sad anymore, at least I'm trying not to be. I know being sad would help my art, writing and film, but it definitely won't help me leave. I've been given a great opportunity to leave things and people familiar, and I can be sad and mope or I can take advantage.

I've learned a lot of things about myself this past summer and actually this past week. I know what I want. I've always known what I want but sometimes the list gets bigger or things are clarified. I know what I don't want. I've never thought that I'd have to make a list for that, but now there's a list. I know that I was meant to do this alone and that being alone will be good for me for a while. This trip is not about finding answers but more about the journey towards these answers (oh my God, may I interject because "one" by aimmee mann just came on my itunes, how appropriate?). But you don't need to know the questions. I am complete by myself. I've needed that foremost before anything. Before starting a real career, before having a boyfriend. I can't start these things when I'm incomplete. I can't look towards these things to complete me. No one should. One is the loneliest number. Mom was right, I am a loner just like my father.

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!