it's a hard-knock life

ah, what a life.

it's so hard being unemployed!

the employed don't understand that.

it's such a dilemma trying to decide when to wake up and get out of bed; when to eat meals; whether to hit the gym when the sun is up or when the sun is down; and which video game, exactly, i'd like to play for the day.

for the record, the decision today was to play ultimate alliance. :)

using the fantastic 4:

it's seriously major fun! and quite addictive. i like using mr. fantastic because he's all rubbery, and when he punches bad guys using his stretchy arms, it looks like he's giving them pathetic little bitch slaps.

:-D

i've been so lazy about doing my next batch of applications. theoretically, it is a no-brainer to do them. you just need to fill out a standard application, which is about four or five pages long; get your curiculum vitae ready; and update and "personalize" your cover letter. and i do pretty much have everything done; i just need to collate them and stick 'em into the envelopes.

but i am so lethargic, it's not even funny.

obviously, this unemployment thing is a mixed bag. the good thing about it is that my time is mine and i can do whatever i want whenever i want for however long i want. i can take my time in recuperating from the bar and getting all my personal affairs into order.

the bad part is that, well, i feel like i'm wasting time and am not being productive. and of course, there's the money thing.

and i'm also kinda worried about my 'tude about the bar right now. i feel so . . . detached from it, like it didn't even happen.

it's not that i'm not worried. i am worried. i don't want to know how other people wrote their answers; if i do, i will likely freak (as i did the other day). and i don't want to take it again, either. in fact, i will be devastated if i find out i failed again.

but at the same time, i have completely stopped worrying about it. my mindset has gone almost completely back to normal. i rarely think about it at all.

and it just makes me wonder if karma will come and kick me in the butt because of this. like, i'm sure i'll be punished for being so blase and that my punishment will come in the form of not finding my name on the pass list on may 16th.

i just know it!

at the same time, i am waving a middle finger. screw it!

i think the reason why i feel so nonchalant right now is because i think i'm totally burnt out on the failure thing. i'm done with the whole self-deprecating "why me?!" internal yelling. i'm over it! i'm ready to move on!

i've mentioned that this time around, i feel that passing the california bar exam is within my reach. it is attainable. the only issue is when. when will i pass?

because of that reassuring realization, the whole mysterious aura of the bar, its unattainability, is gone. before, i wanted to pass, and i didn't know how to get there. now, the mystery is over, and the veil of unattainability has been pierced. the exam is just so transparent to me right now, and i refuse to let my life remain on hold because of it.

it has also helped that i have been envisioning for myself alternative plans in case the attorney thing never panned out. one thing i've always tended to do is just "let" things unfold. i'd undertake a series of random, tentative acts, and the road i'd choose to follow would depend on what paths opened up as a result of those random, tentative acts.

that's how i inexplicably ended up in utah. that's how i ended up going to law school instead of grad school. that's how i ended up getting the most random-assed jobs that anyone would've thought possible.

and i still do this to a certain extent. it is just . . . natural, given my character and personality, and also because it's just kinda fun to be able to open oneself up to random choices and have all sorts of fun paths to choose from. and i'm actually continuing to do this right now, to a certain extent, as i wait for a state job to come my way and for grad school letters to start flooding in.

but the important thing is to not let myself get all boxed in and feeling like i've got no choice.

there is always a choice to make. and most importantly, we are all agents of change. we're the only ones who have the power to make ourselves happy. and what i choose is to not dwell on the bar exam and to let it be the bane of my existence and happiness.

i choose to enjoy life.

in the meantime, i'll continue to take advantage of this time off while i still have it. tomorrow, i'll finish sending off more applications (i still have about 20 to do). and after i do some running . . . i think i'll play me some kingdom hearts.

really. it's soooo hard being unemployed.

chuc mung nam moi

stevie wonder -- "superstitious"

asian people are very superstitious. while it is the american way to work hard and diligently for everything we want and let things come as they may, asians don't like leaving things up to chance. therefore, every stone will be upturned and every possible jinx safeguarded against.

especially this thursday, february 7, 2007, at the start of the new lunar year, there are important things to do and not do if you want this year, the year of the rat, to bring you lotsa good luck.

for instance, clean your house from top to bottom before new year's eve, then make sure to put all the cleaning supplies away! don't wash your hair on new year's, either, because it's believed you'll wash all your bad luck away (although i'm not sure i'm completely sold on this; if i go a single day without washing my hair, i go crazy!). wear red for especially great luck. and don't offend the spirits by talking smack, using foul language, getting into fights, or talking about death.

i'm 27. but i'm not married. that means i can still receive good luck money in those red envelopes just like all the other young kids in the fam. :oD

but the main event of the start of the new lunar year consists of praying to ancestors and making offerings. my family intends to cook or bring a whole boatload of food to my grandparents' house on thursday, and each dish will be offered up to the shrine that my grandparents maintain in a room that is completely dedicated to the ancestors. in this room are pictures and remembrances of all the people in the family who came before us and whose spirits now keep vigilance over us, the living, today. there are also pictures of buddha and a lady goddess.

generally, you are supposed to pray a couple of times a day to your ancestors, but prayers will be especially important on new year's day. and there will be the scent of incense, which i find to be the most reassuring scent in the world, wafting around.

we have to offer the food to the spirits first. because they have no physical form, they partake of the offered food by inhaling its essence. and once they've had their fill, the food's brought back to the main area, and we can all dig in. it's bad luck to eat food that's intended for the spirits before it's been offered to them. like, really bad luck.

all this may sound like irrational gibberish.

but i'm here to assert that it's not.

and i don't say that because this has been a part of my lived experience my whole life. i say it because i have huge respect for this. the way i hear it, the spirits are your life-line, and you are, in a way, theirs.

the worship of ancestors is patrilineal. when a woman marries, she stops paying tribute to the ancestors she grew up worshiping and instead must pay homage to the ancestors of her husband's family. only this past year did i realize the implications that this had on my mom. she was very close to her grandmother on her dad's side. this grandmother, my great-grandmother, was left behind when the city of saigon fell; she knew she was too old to try to escape and so she insisted that she get left behind. it was a harried, desperate time, and the decision to run to escape the communists was made rather instantaneously -- as soon as word reached the city that the communists were coming.

when my mom talks about that, about leaving her grandmother behind, i hear the sadness in her voice. they were just very close. the grandmother died within a year or two after my mom and her family escaped out of vietnam to the united states. it breaks my heart even now, because my family here was never able to see her again.

it was only last january that my grandparents and mom could return to vietnam and visit my great-grandmother at a cemetary. it was an especially poignant moment to be standing there and look upon my great-grandmother's tombstone. i remember it quite clearly: my mom started recounting stories about her relationship with her while my grandmother started setting up offerings on top of the grave -- food, incense, and fake money that we burned.

there's such a sense of continuity when it comes to ancestor worship. you never forget who comes before you. my great-grandmother was a source of consolation to my mom while my mom was growing up -- and continues to be to this very day.

in vietnam, we also visited graves of other family members -- my great-grandparents on my grandmother's side, distant aunts and uncles. i do not want to recount what we did because it feels sacrilegious to do so. suffice to say, it was a time of reunion, a time for re-establishing connections, and a way to show remembrance. that trip to vietnam changed me in so many ways that are just so inexplicable.

you know me. i'm agnostic. i'm a relativist. i'm totally secular-minded, so completely absorbed in the here-and-now rather than the sweet eternal ever-after.

nonetheless, i know that when the time comes, i'll be carrying on the traditions, too. i will remember those who came before me and make sure that they continued to be honored in life.

i've got no brothers. just two sisters. my dad is the last in his line, the last one to carry on the surname. there is some worry that, if my sisters and i never have kids, there will be no one to remember the ancestors in his line. in fact, an aunt (my dad's sister) has suggested to my mom that perhaps they should consider adopting a boy who could take on our family's name.

i think that'd be a great idea, but, um, that's not likely. *ahem* at all. like, ever.

and so you know it falls upon the responsible child -- i.e., me -- to start thinking about and planning for the future. i will not have my family be forgotten.

it's not that my sisters and cousins on my dad's side of the family don't care. i think they just don't really think about these things.

and like i say, i'm the responsible, conscientious, goody-two-shoes one. so it must be me.

not that i'm superstitious or anything. ;)

anyhow, chuc mung nam moi! happy new year!

late-night introspection

for a while there, i had to really fight the urge to dash over to the smoke shop near my house to get cigs.

luckily, the craving only hit me during the late-night hours when this particular smoke shop is closed. i refuse to smoke anything but this one particular brand -- and that shop is the only one that carries it -- and sells it at discount to boot. :-D

but luckily, the craving has stopped.

instead, what i'm fighting against at the moment are the negative, self-sabotaging thoughts.

when i started my bar review class, i and the other folks taking the class were given a stern, arrogant talking-to by the attorney-instructor. he knew most of us were repeaters. and in that one night, he hit home for us why we were repeaters.

pretty much it all boils down to self-sabotage.

my friend waitress, j.d., has blogged about this aspect as it pertains to her. i empathize with her post a great deal, but my story, while similar to hers in many respects, is still a bit different.

my bio isn't worth going over. but suffice to say, i recognize that my challenge in conquering the bar exam has not only to do with making sure i understand the black letter law but also in having the confidence to go forward and beyond this test to the next level and actually be an attorney.

basically, that first night, the bar review instructor asked us rhetorically, "why do you want to pass the bar?"

then he paused dramatically.

"of course, your answer is 'to be an attorney!' but that's not what i mean. i mean, why do you want to be an attorney? what do you see yourself doing after you pass this bar? what are your plans?"

and that's what got me. my mind completely hit a wall. i have been so riveted on the bar exam since graduating law school. even when i chose not to take it and deferred it, i still thought about it. but i never envisioned, on a practical level, what would happen after that, were i to pass.

of course, i can see myself sitting behind a desk behind mounds of folders, looking great in these great suits i got tailor-made for myself when i visited vietnam last year (it was so cheap to do these suits -- and i look great in them! if i do say so myself ;) ). but what am i actually doing?

damned if i know.

i just never really thought that far because, short-sighted as i am, i only focused on this one singular, insurmountable barrier. do i want to be a lawyer? do i not? i don't even like most lawyers. but even this question of whether i like or don't like lawyers is a form of self-sabotage, too.

isn't it??

i think it is. . . . i think it was a way for me to accept being fine with not having become an attorney without even trying for it -- and then it became a way for me to justify failing the bar and accepting failure even before i got the results back.

this time around, my mindset's kind of changed. i am so much more relaxed than i was while studying for last july's exam. i am kind of more accepting of what will happen. if i fail it again, i may or may not take it again this summer. who knows. it helps that i have other options on the table that i am as passionate about completing. like, if i had absolutely no other career choice available, then yes, i'd keep at it. but that's not the case -- thank goodness.

every time i talk to one of my best friends from law school on the phone, she marvels at me. she marvels at how i just "troop through" stuff (that's her phrase). and i was surprised; i've always felt stigmatized and that my law school friends were always disappointed in me or talking smack about my underachieving tendencies in these recent years. so feeling somewhat embarrassed about the obviously admiring tone in her voice, i told her i didn't feel much like a "trooper" at all, having experienced so many set-backs. i told her i didn't even feel like i could hold my head up very high sometimes.

but she emphatically dismissed that, saying, "but you're still hanging in there! most people would've given up by now. i would've given up!" and she compared me and how i am today to how she used to know me when we were still in law school. "you're so much more calmer today than you were then, and more mature" -- (which is true -- i was a really young, naive, sheltered 21-year-old when i started law school) -- "there's no way i could do what you're doing. you're so much stronger now today than before, and much stronger than me."

exasperated but somewhat touched, i told her, "dude, there's no way you'd ever have gotten yourself in the same kind of situation as me. i'm totally lame!"

but good friend that she is, she wouldn't have any of it.

ugh. damned self-sabotage. i really don't know where i get that.

but i just really have this perpetual mind-set of believing that i simply don't deserve anything good, am not worthy of having good things happen to me, and even when good things do happen, i dismiss them as flukes or a result of lucky happenstance.

and i see that happening in relationships, too. and maybe that's why they all tend to go bad. . . . now don't get me wrong. i'm a girl who stands alone. i like being unattached, single, and having absolutely no obligations.

generally speaking, anyway.

that, of course, changes when i meet someone who rocks my world.

and then what tends to happen is just that i end up caring a bit too much and make the relationship all about pleasing the other person to the point of self-sacrifice. and i don't do it on purpose. i think i get it from my mom; we both love pretty rarely, but when we do, it is all in, and it's intense. nothing is too much to do for our loved ones. blood, organ, life, limb -- if you want it, need it, you don't have to ask twice; you got it. and the rest of the world can go to hell, but if you mess with someone we love, you better be prepared to go to hell, too.

but the idea behind it is that, somehow, you're not worthy of the love of someone else. and so the more you undertake physical actions that show what you'd do for another, what you'd give up, the more you show the other person that you are indeed worthy of being loved.

and i dunno. i used to think it was great to be that way. with everyone i love, it's all about loyalty and passion -- and showing that while it's one thing to say something, it's quite another to do it and prove it. actions speak louder than words, after all.

yet sooner or later, you do wonder what the hell you're doing and why you give up so much of yourself yet still believe that you aren't even worthy of the same in return.

and i'm thinking, now, that this is just another symptom of the self-sabotage, i'm-not-worthy-of-anything-good sentiment.

and i certainly don't think it's a condition unique to me. girls and women around the world suffer this to a certain extent. we're always taught to make our own needs and wishes subservient to those around us, particularly to male authority. but i think my tendency to do this has been exacerbated by the damned filial piety ideal that is embedded within confucianism and its practice. it really teaches young kids to be subservient to the will of parents, of elders, of older brothers and sisters, and to respected men. i respect confucianism for creating social order and the practice of venerating the wise and the elders.

but it sure can have screwy effects.

:-P

i think i do have a point as i rattle off these thoughts going on in my head tonight.

my point is maybe i am worthy of more than i give myself credit for.

maybe i deserve to pass the bar.

maybe i deserve to move on with my life if i don't pass.

and maybe i deserve the good things that happen to me as much as i deserve the bad things.

*sigh*

*shrug*

in any case, i do believe that there is indeed at least one important question all of us repeat bar examinees should ask ourselves if we find ourselves struggling with the insurmountable challenges that passing the bar exam poses.

and the question is not "how much have you studied?" nor "how many practice exams have you taken thus far?"

the question is, "why do you want to pass?"

my bar review instructor asserts that if you can't answer that question, just like i couldn't answer that question, then maybe, just maybe, we shouldn't be lawyers and should stop wasting our time, money, and effort. we should opt for a new career instead.

when he said that, i was chagrined and ashamed. he wasn't speaking to me directly, but i still sure as hell felt that he was.

so it's time to start thinking about whether we want it -- and if so, how much -- and where we envision ourselves and what our plans are.

why do we want to pass?

resolutions

i've been doing some thinking, now that a new year is about to dawn.

i have never usually cared about new year's. to me, time has always been just that -- time. it's just there, whether you like it or not and, in the end, time is god. it marches on, whether we are cognizant of it or not, evermore bringing all of us who have been endowed some way, somehow, with the gift of life all the more closer to death.

not to be morbid. i'm just being realistic -- that's all! i swear!

i'm finally reaching an age where i can appreciate just how precious little time that all of us humans are given to be alive, even those of us who manage to live a long, fruitful lives and reach decrepit ages. as such, i can appreciate the symbolism behind the otherwise seeming arbitarariness that is new year's day more today, at age 27, then i could have even a couple of years ago at the age of 25.

that being said, i've been in the midst of reassessing my life and the occurrences this past year, which made 2007 simultaneously one of the most difficult and emotionally draining and yet one of the most hopeful years i've had in my life thus far.

i won't get all cheesy and re-cap every little detail that i loved and loathed about the year. that kind of stuff is hokey, ain't it?

instead, i'll talk about revelations.

one of the things that i had hoped for, when i started up this abbagirl persona here on blogger, was that i could make an attempt to honestly explore my feelings on certain personal matters that i felt that i could not express to anyone who knows me in real life. and to a great extent, it has helped me so much in that department.

but at the same time, being abbagirl has not been everything i thought it would be, either. in fact, i find that having this persona as well as my other "normal," "real-life" blogging persona on another blog-host site has only caused me to do that which i otherwise do in real life and often find to be a burden: maintain and juggle facades.

it is no one's fault but my own. i let myself get so caught up in trying to be so damned likeable. on a general basis, i consider it to be no big deal to be the one to make my personality malleable to those of others. if i have to be the one to bend a little to get along with others and be likeable, then so be it; i can do it.

i think i've talked about it on this blog before, how easy it is for me to get along well with others because i can put on any kind of social mask to match up with other people's personalities, no matter how diverse they are. and my genuine interest in humanity also helps me find those other commonalities i have with other people.

i had hoped that being abbagirl would help me get rid of all these social masks that i wear and let me show my true self in all its ugliness; having social masks, while a great asset a lot of time, can also be a burden, too. not being very savvy or skillful, i have only managed to make myself feel just as lost as i did before, if not more so.

so what i have found is that this mantle of abbagirl has come with a number of its own burdens. i will always be this abbagirl to a certain extent. at the same time, abbagirl is just not me as much as i had hoped she'd be.

don't worry -- abbagirl will still continue to exist. she will post comments on all her favorite blogs just like she usually does. she abba-solutely loves all the blogs that she's had the good fortune of finding out here on the web and will continue to read their witty, insightful, hilarious, and moving words each and every day.

but abbagirl as blogger will disappear into the night as unobtrusively as she appeared.

it was a hard decision to make, surprisingly. you'd think that since this is just a blog, i'd have no problem just up and deleting it when the time came. but no, this has actually been on my mind quite a bit the past couple of weeks. and there has always been something holding me back all those times when i considered hitting the "delete blog" button.

but this is a new year. and i want to make changes to how i live, how i think, how i act, and how i let the personalities and whims of others dictate the type of person i show myself to be.

that just needs to change. and it starts here and now.

however, i leave open the possibility that abbagirl is not outright dead. maybe she is more "me" than i give her credit for, and i only need to discover this for myself. who knows. i'm still on the journey of self-discovery that i never thought i'd be on when approaching the age of 30. so i may resurrect dear sweet abbagirl if or when the time is right. after all, it has already happened; she did fake her own death earlier this year only to make a sudden reappearance a few weeks later.

so why don't we just say that she is currently in at least a comatose state and leave it at that for now?

by that, i mean this kind of comatose state:

not this:

so no goodbyes!

just a boston song. for now.

Boston- Long Time (1976)

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happy new year, everyone! i love you all!

origins: the birth of abbagirl

a brief biography

abbagirl did not emerge from the womb as an instantaneous lover of all things abba.

in fact, for much of her early life, abbagirl was actually rather blase about abba. she wouldn't have known who abba was if abba came and bit her on the heinie or knocked her out with a disco ball.

thus, horrifically enough, abbagirl could have easily been dubbed diamondgirl instead, since she has always been an avid neil diamond fan:

the super diamond himself, feeling the passion of his own music!

or gypsygirl in homage to stevie nicks:

the early days before fleetwood mac -- long live buckingham nicks!!

or jettheadgirl because, for a time, she was seriously infatuated with joan jett:

however, the fates have simply decreed abbagirl it must be. for abbagirl, the title simply feels quite right and natural.

for abbagirl, abba is more than a band that, for a short time in music history, brought bubbly, positive, and effervescent music to the public.

the first time that abbagirl had the good fortune of listening to abba was when she was perhaps twelve or thirteen years old. in those days, her parents were finally hitting their stride as wage-earners and had begun escaping from the rather poor financial situation they had found themselves in after becoming refugees to the united states. it was now fifteen years that they had been in the united states. and at last, they had stable jobs, one as a state employee and the other as a federal employee, and they had gradually sought promotion after promotion until finally making a space for themselves in the relaxing comforts of middle-class america.

one of the ways they celebrated the new glorious powers that come from having disposable income was by purchasing a time share at a resort at lake tahoe. it became quite a boon to these parents and their three daughters to go escape to the middle of a forest and enjoy quality time at the beautiful lake.

the family would go mostly once a year, sometimes twice. this newfound retreat proved to be of such a particular delight to abbagirl. her sisters were rather disinterested in the new sights that tahoe offered, but to abbagirl, the area appealed to her rather romantic outlook on the world and on nature. she grew to be quite interested with tahoe lore, particularly that of tahoe tessie, a creature comparable to that of the loch ness monster that is said to dwell deep within the virtually bottomless lake. she also liked to take long walks, either by herself or with anyone else who cared to join her, along the shores of the lake and let the cool water envelop her feet and feel her toes mash into the wet sand.

up until and during this time of her life, abbagirl had a childhood that was fairly memorable -- both in good ways and in bad ways. by this time, of age twelve or thirteen, she had honed her skills as an appeaser, skills that she still continues to utilize successfully to this very day. she learned quite well how to read people, their facial expressions, and their tones of voice to anticipate what their next words or actions would be. by honing her skills in that area, she developed the ability to make sure that only smiles were ever shown her way, not frowns, and to diffuse any negative situations before they erupted. and she was mostly successful on that front.

nonetheless, in addition, she had also learned that the best way to get on in the world was mostly by being quiet. by an early age, it had been instilled in her the importance of staying out of other people's way. so even at the age of six or seven, she had learned to find company and much needed solace in books. in fact, her greatest memory regarding books was the day, when she was about ten years, that her favorite uncle in the world put an agatha christie mystery novel in her hand.

however, perhaps that's a story for another time.

anyhow, when abbagirl wasn't reading her books, she merely quietly observed the people around her. and it was only when she was among a few trusted people, like her mother, her older sister, or her youngest aunt, that abbagirl could give in to her innately sly and quirky sense of humor and cause people (and herself) to laugh uproariously.

in any case, although it was generally great fun for abbagirl and her family to retreat on vacation every once in a while, these vacations tended to be rather hit-or-miss. depending on the personalities and moods of certain members of her family, the trip could be an extremely fun and pleasant one or dark and uncomfortable.

but there is one particular trip to tahoe that stands out most in abbagirl's mind as being the most pleasant and most memorable. this was a time when, for the full two-and-a-half hours that the family trekked from their home in norcal to their timeshare resort in tahoe, the whole family was laughing together, making jokes, and just having a great time. even then, abbagirl marveled at it all and knew how special that time was. and as she looked out the window at all the passing bright green conifers and listened to the sound of light laughter and teasing around her, she thought to herself, smilingly, "this is exactly how a family should be." within the family car at that time, all was right in the world. there were no extraneous worries, woes, or angst to cast a shadow over the family's mood.

and what CD was playing non-stop in the car the whole time?

well, actually, there were two CDs on repeat during their journey through the mountains.

this one played while the family was still making their way out of the city:

but this is the one that played while they wound their way up i-80 and that abbagirl associates with that brief but happy time in her life:

"fernando" -- abba
the favorite abba song of abbagirl's mom

lesson learned

i'm going to hell.

i surely am.

hippie sex predator just stopped me and asked if he could talk to me privately.

i was apprehensive as i followed him into the file room. talking "privately" was not a good thing; the last time he had caught me in private, he had asked me if there was anything wrong, because i'd been treating him so callously and brusquely.

once in the file room, though, to my surprise, he began saying his goodbye to me. he won't be here tomorrow, he said, but "i really like you and think you're so cool." he said he was sad to see me go.

i was immediately touched by this speech alone -- and also ashamed because of the way i have treated him and talked shit.

and then he gave me two gifts:

a glass ring, because, as he said, "i know you like wearing chunky rings."

and a tiny silver wish box in the shape of a star and that has a latch with which to keep the tiny lid closed. "i put a wish in there for you, that you pass your bar exam."

i have no words.

i'm so touched.

his words and acts have really made my week.

i am surely going to hell. i will stop talking shit about him now.

in fact, if i ever mention him here on this blog again, i will use different nickname: troll with a heart.*

so not to go all sesame street or anything. . . .

but i've learned my lesson.

and i'm sorry.

* sorry. but sweet gestures aside, he still does look like a troll. and can be as uncouth as one. but his heart, in the end, belies his appearance and manners (and smell).

the changing of the seasons

i fell asleep last night groaning inwardly at the sound of instantaneous rain slapping harshly against my window.

it's that time of the year.

already the lazy summer mornings that only recently gently bathed me with a slight warmness commingled with a stirringly cool breeze have disappeared.

and in its place, the unsympathetic, uncaring coldness of fall which eventually give way to the disdainful teary anger of winter, full of unforgiving rains and floods.

that's how it is in norcal.

this morning, i woke up trepidatiously. i like to leave the shades open in the night while i sleep so that the morning sun can wake me -- or at least have ths morning skies indicate what kind of weather the day will bring.

already, it is to the point where, when i wake up at around 6 a.m.-ish, the skies are still dark. this morning was no exception; the sky was still a dark indigo, and i could also feel the presence of the rainclouds in the sky, even though i couldn't actually see them. luckily, however, the clouds have quickly disappeared, and within an hour, the sun was peeking through tentatively in a light blue sky behind a couple of cirrus clouds.

it's still colder than i'd like, though. i think it's time to bust out with some light scarves to keep the cold from seeping down my neck.

speaking of, i find it funny that i am now working in a scientific environment.

seeing how science always tended to make eyes glaze over instantaneously when i was younger, it is indeed a bit of a surprise.

not to say that i wasn't intrigued by science. science is an attempt to understand the world around us by simplifying all knowable phenomena into black and white clear rules. it attempts to know what is and what isn't and why. it looks at the world on a macrocosmic level and a microcosmic level. and these are endeavors that i definitely respect.

if i had to choose a science that i wish i could excel at, it would have to be astronomy. i am just so intrigued by it. it is fascinating to me that the lived reality i experience every day, all of which seems so monumental and earth-shattering to me, is actually just absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things. i may feel like the world is soon coming to an end, because of a tremendous tragedy befalling me . . . .

but seriously, when it all comes down to it, my life and my experiences don't mean jack. it is miniscule when examined in the grand scheme of the universe, where other universes and galaxies take millenia to be born and to be destroyed.

this is what i generally try to remember when the going gets tough. as the tao te ching would say, this is the way of the tao, the way of nature, the way things are. you just have to go with the flow, adapt yourself to the turmoil, then ride the waves out until the going gets better.

and it always does get better. it really does.

so the universe goes, so do the earth's laws of nature. as a result, i must adjust myself to the colder weather that has billowed into my part of the world, even as i fight the urge to burrow under warm blankets and hide through the fall and winter seasons until spring gently raises its head once more. but if anything, at least i get to start layering the clothes i wear with more gusto.

and i do like layering. i like putting different colors, patterns, and textures together to get different effects, like an artist choosing a color palette to work with. and then add ornaments -- jewelry, a belt or a sash, shoes.

the human body is a palette -- what you put on yourself bespeaks to the world who you are, what you're like, how you're feeling on a particular day, and what you strive to be.

and speaking also of the natural birth, life, and death cycles of all known matter in the universe, i was also happened to think of other stuff recently. and it is this:

for someone, such as me, who takes great pains to be derisive and disdainful of people in general, it shocks the hell out of me when i come to find out how much love i actually have in me.

no, not to be all corny. truth be told, i'm not a very loving person. i like talking shit about people. i see the clouds before i see the silver lining. i'm ill-natured and moody. saturday night live has this one skit that i love -- rachel dratch as "debbie downer." that is a hilarious skit. not that i am a total debbie downer -- but the fact that the debbie downer skits make me laugh until i shit my pants should indicate what kind of sense of humor i have.

i love very rarely. i'm too rational to do otherwise -- and often, when i feel like i am on the verge of loving too much, i try to talk myself out of it -- and sometimes i succeed, sometimes i don't. but when i love, it is so intense, it fucking scares me. it gets overwhelming and uncontrollable, and internally i start to panic. i feel it is very dangerous for me to love so much -- if only because life is so short and temporary, but the love i feel, if i feel it, actually feels pretty powerful, as if it could shoot out from somewhere in my body and streak across the sky and be visible to everyone forever.

at the same time, it contradicts my ideas of life. for me, the life as i know it right now is it. no more and no less. nothing existed before i lived, and nothing exists after my life as i will know it. when i think about the impermanence of who i am, the thought often leaves me cold with fear.

if only we can all live forever -- and not only that, but be assured that the people we love, too, can be around us for all time.

but that's not how it goes.

i do wish i had the reassuring belief in a religion as a result. but if i were to turn to religion now, considering where i'm at in my life at this moment and how i have regarded religion, it would be for all the wrong reasons. i lack the faith, period, to believe in a single god, that essence precedes existence, and that there is a continued existence for us all when we cease to have any further consciousness of this world. so turning to religion would be nothing more than just a desperate hope to be proven wrong. and that's not true faith, is it?

i was only thinking of this because of how much i love my momma. i can't imagine life without her. my true best friend, she is the best person i know in the world. she is really as much of a twin as i can have; our thoughts are so interchangeable, we have the same sense of humor, and i turn to her the most. and so i dread the days that will come when i will no longer have her around. i dread it like nothing else. i just love my mom so fiercely.

she's had a few health scares in recent years -- all of which have been due to high stress levels and the fact that she doesn't take care of herself as much as she takes care of everyone else. she's so used to being the go-to person for everything, as the eldest child of a ten-kid family. and now on top of those responsibilities, she also kinda leads her own family now, and our family is pretty dramatic in and of itself.

the other day, i noticed that she was carrying a newspaper ad that she had clipped out of the paper. it was for funeral services and offered a 15% discount or something.

my mom is only 54 (and my dad 63). i was immediately alarmed.

she says no big deal. nothing's wrong. she's thinking of being cremated.

i'm like, "mom! don't be talking about shit like that!" it does scare me.

i was also surprised; she had told me before that she wanted to be buried in a casket and be embalmed so that we, her kids, could have a place to actually come visit her. that idea actually reassures me, especially after my trip to vietnam earlier this year and visiting graves of relatives i've never known.

and now she's talking about being cremated.

i think she just likes to worry me like that.

but i love my mom intensely. and what do i get for loving her so much? i get her love in return, yes -- but it's temporary in the grand scheme of things. love isn't forever for those of us who are unfortunate enough to lack faith or to have lived through life without the reassuring beliefs that are provided by organized religions.

it kinda bites.

and that is one of the other reasons why i don't think i will have kids. why consign them to that kind of existence? sure, i think i'd have really cute kids -- they'd be even cuter than i was. so small, so frail-looking, so quiet and well-behaved -- but unbelievable spunky and cunning as i was. :-D but in my mind, by giving birth to a child, i am also consigning them to certain death. and as much as i sometimes think i'd love to have a kid, i could not consciously consign them to do that.

i know this is contrary to how most people think of life. i guess my take is a bit different.

just a bit.

:-P

not to get into all these dark thoughts so early in the morning. but really, this is all the more justification for both living life to the utmost and also cultivating oneself as much as possible. do everything you can and be the best you can be while you still can. leave a mark before you disintegrate into nothing.

decisions, decisions

choices

1. continue working as a temp

pros

the people are okay, except for a few who tend to get on my nerves.

i get to work autonomously and don't really answer to anyone.

a lot of cute eye-candy tend to stop by the office to ask me for assistance.

the head of the operations has taken an interest in my legal career and, if i play my cards right, i think he can groom me to ultimately join the legal department there, which he seems interested in doing.

the job is easy.

cons

the job isn't very challenging, and most of the time, i'm either blogging or half-heartedly going through the motions.

the people i can't stand? i really can't stand them.

i get paid shit.

no guarantee that the head of my office will or can help me. just a hunch.

2. nag my undergraduate alma mater about that teaching job.

pros

i get a taste of teaching to see if i like it and am capable of doing it.

i get to share my love for reading and writing

i'd be teaching college students, e.g., adults.

i can go back to an academic environment.

i can move back to the beehive state.

cons

i get paid shit.

i'd be teaching intro-to-writing type courses in which, worst-case scenario, i'd have to read a lot of haphazard, effortless shit writing.

i'd be back in the beehive state.

3. anticipating having failed the bar, don't do anything, stay at my current job, leave in november, and immediately start studying again for the february bar exam without taking up another job.

pros

i persistently pursue the bar exam and learn the importance of not taking no for an answer.

i hate working and will have plenty of free time to do my own thing while balancing that with bar study.

i can spend the whole day with my cute lil' dog, who sometimes helps me study.

cons

i'm poor as it is and may have to sink into even more debt just to fucking study.

i'd have to study again and begin battling premature greyness.

4. anticipating having failed the bar, wait another half-year to take the july bar exam and, in the meantime, go back into state service to start building up my savings again.

pros

go back to a sturdy $ 4500/month salary and life is fine because i can go back to going out with friends, having splendid twenty-something girlish fun, and not have to worry about making payments on any of my bills.

i can continue to learn more about the intricacies of california's bureaucracies at a whole other department and appreciate just how much the state government really does keep the whole state going.

i'd get all my benefits back -- delta dental, vision service plan, and my ol' kaiser healthcare plan. i haven't had any coverage for any of these things at all for the past six months or so. it freaks my mom out.

cons

window-less cubicle life. 'nuff said.

return to the terrible, horrible, very bad commute to downtown.

i'd go back to taking orders from idiots and bitch and moan about my lame bosses to my mom until it drives her completely mad.

5. screw the bar exam results, chill with this temp job until january or february of next year, when the office begins searching for a permanent employee for my position, let the temp agency find me another job, and just hang out wherever they place me until grad. school starts -- assuming i even get in anywhere.

pros

i don't have any responsibilities, can lay low, and relax, and let the anticipation build about a return to an academic life.

i can start writing the next great american novel.

cons

it's against my nature to be lazy, unmotivated, and spend so much time getting by. grad. school is still a whole year away. i've already wasted the past couple of years of my life.

i continue to get paid shit.

decisions.

either way, every now and then, i start to feel like this little boy:

-----------------------------------

i love stevie nicks. here she is with her girls sharon and lori doing a live version of "leather and lace."

up and down -- and up and down

i just had an interesting encounter.

when i'm down, one of the things that i like to do is get away to one of my favorite coffee shops in town -- which currently happens to be a starbuck's about twenty minutes away from my house -- get myself a grande iced soy chai latte, and sit outside at one of the tables so that i can chain-smoke and write.

i've actually been doing this quite a bit lately. if i can write while partaking of my two favorite vices -- caffeine and cigarettes -- then i can usually get myself into an appropriate mind-set and gain proper perspective.

so that was what i did today. i was sitting by myself outside at a table at starbuck's when some random, ghetto black dude came by, got a table next to me, then started chatting with me as if we were old friends. i was wary at first, as i am of strangers, but i soon warmed up to him, and we engaged in a bit of a dialogue, interrupted only when he got phone calls or when i thought of something i wanted to jot down.

of course, he flirted with me in a major way. but i didn't mind because i rather enjoyed speaking with him. he is a self-proclaimed nerd-thug -- although he had the thug look down pat more so than the nerd look. now, he was all up with the ghetto lingo, and what struck me, after we had only been talking for just a few minutes, was that he had a mad furious way with words. as an english major and total biblio-phile, i just always tend to notice these things. and he was stringing words together in astronomical ways that i'd never heard of. i was way impressed and found his liguistic skills pretty powerful. so right off the bat, within minutes after he started talking to me, i told him, "i think you should write poetry. the way you speak is amazing."

oh, and i should also mention, i think, that while we were talking, he totally busted out a glass pipe and was smoking right then and there, and by this time, his eyes had already started glazing over.

so when i mentioned that he had a poet's skill with words, he got totally elated. i can't remember what he said exactly, but he flipped out with happiness. he said he actually did write quite a bit and that he was glad he met me (although i'm sure his elation was due in good part by the glass pipe as well). i told him that if he was interested, i would give his stuff a read and critique it and then possibly give him some possible sources to which to submit his stuff for publication.

he asked for my phone number, but i refused to give it, saying, "i'm sorry, but i don't give it out to strangers."

actually, i don't give it out to anyone who is a self-professed thug, albeit a nerd-thug, who busts out a glass pipe in public like it's no big thing.

but he took it like a man and said it was "romantic" that i was going to make him earn my number (imagine me rolling my eyes internally even as i maintained a sweet and polite smile. like, dude. i'm a dyke). and then he made me promise to show up at around the same time this coming saturday at this same starbuck's so that i could read his stuff -- and so that he could detail my car. for free.

i tried to tell him my car wasn't worth it; it was so old and ghetto. and i even pointed it out to him in the parking lot nearby. he said it was no biggie and that this was his job anyway and that all i needed to do was wash it (which is true) and that he could add some chinese rims to it. he said he'd be happy to do both. besides, he could always use a few "practice cars" on which to practice his craft.

who knows if i'll take him up on this offer. prolly not, but it was a nice gesture, one that i really appreciated.

anyway, we had a sporadic conversation on and off during the course of an hour, and at the end of it all, he said i was a gift to him today and that i inspired him and that he was happy to be right then and there at that particular time to meet me. i smiled and thanked him.

and then he gave a gift to me in return, which i consider to be one of the best gifts i've received in a while. "you are such a sincere girl," he said. "your sincerity is a gift. you keep it real, and you're going to change the world."

i love him for saying that.

i kind of need to hear this, that even my presence or the sight of me to someone else can have meaning that transcends words and reverberates into the other person's heart and soul. and sincerity is really one of the true gifts i have that i like to freely share. i can't fake sincerity at all without looking hollow and pretentious so i don't bother faking at all. with me, i'm the real deal. what you see is what you get; and if i say it, i mean it. that's how it goes.

so i am glad to have met him, too, because he could see that in me.

it's funny the kind of random acts that can be given to you by complete strangers if you remain open to the possibility that every person you come across can bestow something special to you, even if you see them only for a fleeting second and never come across them again. and this is just a lesson to me to not be so fucking judgmental about people based on their appearances. sure, if stereotypes hold true, then i should've been running in fear in the opposite direction of this guy as soon as he tried to talk to me. he's a big, solidly built black dude wearing a do-rag and baggy shorts. but fuck that, he's a nice guy. a poor one who probably wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of me, but nonetheless a good one.

and i'm glad to have met him today.

because i've been having a really shitty day. i have been down as hell today. and yes, much worse than yesterday. . . .

and this is why i'm back on blogger and why i need it so much. i am more down than i would want my family and friends to know or realize. they have no idea. sure, they're aware of my abrupt mood-swings, my tendency to flash quick anger, or to suddenly retreat from the world back into myself. they just don't know the real extent of how deeply i can plummet into despair and hopelessness. and frankly, i prefer it that way -- they don't need to know my true self. so i will keep that other blog of mine over there for them -- and i will keep this particular blog for me over here.

i am back to chain-smoking, as if the next cigarette i inhale will give me that sense of peace i desperately am in search of, as if the very next inhalation of smoke from a freshly lit stick will latch onto every last bit of unhappiness i have and happily carry it out into the air when i exhale.

when i first set up my blogger, it took a while, but i chose this screen name: ABBAGirl. in a way, it represents everything i am -- up-beat, positive, in the moment, joyous, light-hearted, and not too serious. just like the namesake from which i chose it.

at the same time, it is not me but something i wish i could be every moment of the day.

every now and then, despite the really joyous moments i find when i least expect it, i find myself getting so tired of life. or at least of the facades i've erected and must maintain. i'm tired of all the damned expectations. and that is why i have been so down for a good chunk of today. for once, i'd like to live a life that is wholly mine, one in which i can enjoy myself as i please and i don't have to be perpetually reminded of who i "should" be instead. i don't want to live confined within a fixed role or always have to be so fucking nice and dependable all the time.

because what i'm finding is that it is not a fair trade-off. i have given so much of myself up, and it used to be enough for me that in doing so, i made others happy. now, i have to ask just what the hell am i getting in return?

these moments of despair hit me every now and then. not too often, which is nice, but when they do hit, i get completely devastated and depressed and become even more anti-social than ever before. when this happens, i inevitably end up getting some sort of wake-up call. something dramatic or serious occurs to someone i care about and jolts me wide awake out of myself. i then begin kicking myself for being so ultra-self-absorbed -- and then i fall right back into line, unquestioningly taking up the roles that i had so dearly wished to shirk, and life goes back to being hum-drum and fine once more.

but this routine can only last so long. frankly, i'm already sick of it. it's no longer working very effectively on me. i hate it so much . . . .

the bar exam is only one component of this but the most glaring example of it, if not the epitome of my woes. i loathe it so much. i fear it so much. and yet i want it so very fucking much.

the best way i can think of to explain all this is through use of platonic theory. now, i absolutely suck at philosophy and political theory. all the schools of thought get to be too convoluted and obtuse for my puny little brain. but if i understand (and remember) platonic theory correctly, plato was obsessed with the idea of forms -- ideal forms of both justice and goodness -- and he wrote that in an attempt to achieve perfection, all humans should seek to conform their conduct to these ideal forms as much as possible. in so striving, such humans would eventually come to embody these ideal forms.

(did i get it right, at least in lay-person's terms?)

and so it is with me. in my head, and in the heads of everyone important to me, there is an ideal way for me to be. i've already spent much of my life matching myself to this particular form in almost every possible way. but the ideal remains elusive. i'm just not there yet. there are still acts i must complete and achieve -- and until then, i am imperfect. flawed. unworthy.

is this the proper way to be thinking about my life? i know my shrink would ask me that. and i would say, "fuck no. i'm miserable as hell, aren't i? obviously, this is not the way to go." but i don't know any other way to be.

fucking shit. i am miserable as hell.

to take this platonic analogy further along of matching one's acts to those of the ideal forms, i further wish for another kind of matching -- and i only realize this thanks to a number of very interesting and cool dialogues with my good friend girlinshortshorts.

i want my insides to match with my outside.

my insides are tremendously crushed. i feel like i have nothing left to give and nowhere to move from because everything inside me has been bludgeoned, blistered, and bruised; that i have no sense of self -- at least not in a positive way -- that has been left untouched after years of psychological flayings and beatings from both myself and from others.

so a part of me just wishes that my outside will be as torn up and busted apart like my insides are. because i can deal with physical pain. in fact, i would welcome it and relish it and know i deserved it. but this psychological stuff i can't take; it provides a different, intangible, immeasurable pain that is so much more difficult to deal with.

i think it would help me to face the fact that i failed the bar.

i really think i did fail.

it's only a damned fucking test, for crying out loud -- albeit one of the hardest fucking tests of its kind in the nation.

but i am still crushed.

and i suppose i'm glad i had a chance to talk with my old high school friend yesterday about it and realize just how much i've potentially fucked up on the damned thing. it's better to deal with failure as soon as you can then falsely have wishful thinking drawn out for an over-extended period of time.

ghost in the machine

i've always been a fairly rational girl, more mature for my age than most of my peers at any age i've been thus far.

i have a fair idea, in my mind, what constitutes Right and Wrong, although i don't belong to any organized religion. unlike most people, i adhere to these principles pretty easily. i treat people fairly and expect absolutely nothing from them other than to treat me decently and politely in turn. because of my lack of religious belief, when people sneeze, i don't say, "gesundheit" or "bless you." at the same time, i'm usually the one who holds doors open for others, and i say "thank you" every time i feel that a kindness has been bestowed on me.

truth be told, i usually prefer the company of a good book more than anything else. i do things in moderation, usually only with people i trust, or i don't do them at all. to believe something, i must see it with my own eyes and be able to contemplate it at my own leisure. i sometimes jump to conclusions, but only with the caveat that i may some time in the future change my mind.

although i like to do things spontaneously or off the cuff, especially if i feel that i need time alone, i'm not a capricious person. nor am i malicious. even if i find myself wanting to hurt someone with words or with acts, i rarely ever act upon those impulses because of my fear of doing something irreparably harmful. i care about other people's feelings, perhaps a bit too much, and this often causes me to back down from a hard-line stance as an attempt to placate. i have a tendency to avoid conflicts and defer to a stronger personality. but i can do so without qualms because i have a very mild manner. i laugh easily and am always quick with a short quip. because i smile and laugh easily, it will often take three or four serious shoves at me before i finally react in bad temper.

all in all, i'm just a level-headed, smart girl who keeps primarily to herself and doesn't ask anything of anyone else.

but now i'm feeling irked. i feel like a fool.

there was a ghost in the machine, and it had me convinced that it was real.

but it's not real. it's a projection of what i've always desired, both consciously and unconsciously. it made itself seem like it was everything that it really is not. in fact, by the very nature of its being, it's not there. it's a ghost, for crying out loud. it's unreal. an illusion.

what did i do wrong . . . .

i didn't do anything that i don't otherwise do, i don't think. i am as i am. i approach all things similarly -- cautiously at first, then with more ease and familiarity. i knew that this was just a ghost in the machine from the start. and even when it threatened and boasted of becoming more than that, instead of keeping a knowing eye on it, i believed more quickly than i otherwise would've and should've done. . . .

and i am a fool. big time.

i, a girl who doesn't ask anything of anyone and who always prefers to keep to herself with a good book in hand, ended up reaching my hand out to the ghost in the machine and asked it to be real.

that's too much to ask of a ghost, even as it pleads to assure me that it's more real than it seems.

but i know now. it's not real. i've been chasing a ghost through the darkness in the hopes of finding light. i know now that it was a false illusion.

the sad part is that i must now back-track and try to find my way back to where i was before . . . then try to move on from there.