The post-grad life: terrifying, yet oddly underwhelming at times. Lately, more frustrating than anything, in part because of the choices I've made.

After all, I chose to move back home to live with my dad and, lo and behold, five other strangers. There is rarely a time in the house when things are quiet, even when I barricade myself in my room and close the door against the noise. Someone's usually listening to loud Chinese music or watching a movie on their laptop with the speakers turned up higher than is necessary for the typical human eardrum (cue: my aunt and uncle) - sounds that seem to seep right through the walls. Or they're using the single bathroom in the hall - shared by 4 of the 7 residents living in this house - right at the moment when I decide I need to pee or take a shower. I can't walk out into the kitchen at any time during the day and not see my aunt huddled in front of her laptop, staring like a drone into the screen at yet another of the endless stream of Chinese dramas that she has downloaded (probably illegally), or hear her ear-splitting voice (and trust me, I'm not exaggerating when I use that adjective) screeching into the phone at 8 in the morning. Sometimes I hear it even earlier, when she's having a heated argument with my cousin, who shares the living room with my dad, or my uncle, who will sometimes add his own cry to the mix.

Any semblance of independence has slipped away in this splendid joke of a living arrangement. Even my old room doesn't feel like my own, when my dad acts like he can walk in any time without knocking (as it is his house, I suppose he can) and still keeps the only working phone in the house on the floor next to my bed. It's true, I don't have a curfew and I don't necessarily have to tell anyone where I'm going. But honestly, where can I go? Union City is as dead as it's always been - everything closes by 10, and even during the day there's not much to do besides the usual flaccid routine of eating, shopping, or catching a film. Even watching movies back home feels different. Call me spoiled by L.A.'s many eccentric theaters, but watching the same film in a commercialized theater filled with giggling high school kids just doesn't have quite the same dynamic. There are no more Q&As with the director, no more introductions by this or that scholar, and - as a testament to how much college life has truly warped me - no more anxiety at the thought that I still have a paper to write after the last question is answered. (And yes, I do miss cutting it close to academic deadlines.)

And then there's my dad. He's a stereotypical Asian man. He shoulders responsibility the same way a mule shoulders his master's bags - obediently and with very little emotion. In many ways he's always been the sturdiest aspect of my life. He drives me where I need to go, buys the foods I like to eat, and provides me with the essentials of life: warmth, safety, and shelter. He makes sure I have regular dentist appointments again and, more importantly, that I'm not lying in a ditch, alone and mutilated, in the middle of the night. Sometimes we even catch a movie or two, sitting side by side in the theater like two family members who might also be friends. I can depend on him. In that respect he's a good father and always has been.

But at this stage in my life, I no longer feel like I need to be taken care of. And what's worse, I feel a lot less obligation to the person who's providing it. Call me mean-spirited, but I need the warmth and safety - I don't really need my dad. To put it even more bluntly, I like the fact that he's my dad - I love him for being so and I truly appreciate all the efforts he's gone to in order to assume that role so seamlessly - but I'm not sure I like the man. I certainly don't like the man when he takes every opportunity to ensure that I am not content with who I am and what my life is currently like. I don't like the man when he constantly compares me to my brother and makes me feel like I failed somehow just because I didn't choose an equally concrete path, one that, by mere coincidence, happens to lead to stability and more direct monetary reward in this current society. When I graduated from college, I didn't get a "Congratulations" or a "Good Job" or even a slightly surprised, "Hey, you did it!" Instead, I got constant disparaging remarks that I chose the lesser school when I had the chance to go to a better one. Instead, despite my academic success and satisfaction with what I chose to do in college, extracurricular and otherwise, I got an attitude more closely resembling: "Is that all?" And honestly, why am I even surprised? Isn't this what I've gotten my whole life growing up? Insinuations that because of the nature of my studies/work and that because I am a girl, I am somehow not good enough?

A more revealing example: When I landed the Sierra internship, I was ecstatic. Sure, it doesn't pay anything other than the stipend that covers transportation, and I'm sure it's not what every grad - even a liberal arts grad - dreams of when they first step outside of the ivory tower of academia. Yet it was something I managed to get on my own, in the direction of the field I wish to pursue. In my eyes, it's a milestone, a door-opener and more importantly, it's representative of the very work that I find meaningful - in the utmost sense of the word. To me, it's something that matters. And it was something I had to work for. It wasn't because of who I knew or who I talked to. Maybe I'm kidding myself - maybe I was simply in the right place at the right time - but I'd like to believe that skill, experience, and enthusiasm were what ultimately pulled me through. In any case, I didn't bother to tell either of my parents about the internship. They know about my part-time job tutoring, but I have no desire to share this news with them. Why should I? I know they won't be proud. I know they won't even be close. If anything, they'll find the one thing to say that will trigger any doubts, anxieties, or fears I have about this opportunity. And that will be one more opportunity that I'd have let them suck the enthusiasm out of.

Why do I respect my teachers so much? It's not just that they were good educators, even though that was important. It was because they were the one source of authority in my life that always held belief in my aspirations and my accomplishments. In terms of my emotional growth, they were my surrogate parents. And sometimes, I'll admit, I wish they had been my real parents as well. They provided me with the encouragement and the understanding that my parents never did. Never once have my teachers told me, directly or indirectly, that I wasn't good enough. On the contrary, they told me I could do whatever I set my mind to do and gave me meaning during those dark days of puberty where nothing made sense (and in many respects, nothing still does). How much of my success and of my personality do I really owe to them? I guess I'll never know.

I think I just figured out a small piece of my future - a significant, albeit small, victory in the raging war of post-grad doubt and fear. I think I'm beginning to realize, finally, that I have a lot more options than I thought I did. Behold the joy of having the option to see options.

Also, very enlightening moment today with my best bud: "Don't worry about which friends you're going to lose once distance gets in the way; the ones that matter are always going to be there." Yeah. I agree 100%. The Remedy - I won't worry.

10 minutes of pity, go

no time
no energy
no passion
no direction
nowhere to run
no one to turn to
no strings to pull
i am who i am
even when i don't want to be


Sometimes I'm really afraid I won't make it.

Where did the time go? Some oldies.

I miss visiting friends at work.

I miss old friends who no longer live in California.

I miss fighting for the tennis courts at Cabello Elementary.

I miss engaging in silly competition.

I miss friends from middle school.

I miss carrying out ridiculous plans.

I miss random visits from favorite cousins.

I miss being the only girl in my family.

I miss breathing in Mission Peak.

I miss the journeys you go on with friends.

I miss teachers who change your life.

I miss taking the BART to Berkeley.

I miss my dad.

I miss taking awkward pictures with the dork who always needs a haircut.

I miss their cheesy smiles.

I miss Delaine Eastin and all the joy and laughter that came with it.

I miss us.

I miss San Francisco on a rainy day.

I miss the old crew.

I miss Hedrick 7 North.

I miss silly anecdotes that years later don't make a difference.

I miss living in the dorms.

I miss the sense of kinship among those striving for the same thing.

I miss Relay for Life.

I miss lounging around with old buddies on a hot summer day.

I miss the dessert places in SF.

I miss the Bleeding Giraffes. Number one!

I miss a wonderful weekend in San Diego.

I miss moments that should be on TV sitcoms.

I miss planning surprise birthday parties at my house.

I miss the graduates of '07.

I miss the teachers you can go to for advice.

I miss serious conversations about life, love, and everything in-between.

I miss France.

I miss weird shenanigans with the roomies.

I miss holidays spent at home.

I miss my best friend.

I miss holiday parties.

I miss late nights at Tapioca Express.

I miss the girls of PSN.

I miss being in a group where you feel like you belong.

I miss this.

Watch the horizon go

Screw self-pity. I'm going to allow myself exactly 10 minutes of self-degradation and frustration every day. Then it's time to move on.

On a much happier note, the Los Angeles Times Book Festival is coming up on the weekend of April 25-26. As always I'm beyond excited...I love the fact that I go to school that not only has one of the best film schools in the nation, but is also conveniently located in a city where people actually congregate out of their love for the written word. Seriously, how awesome is that?

I still remember going to the festival for the first time my freshman year. Sitting there listening to Ray Bradbury spill his words of wisdom across the open stage of students, families, and kids all listening in rapture, I pretty much fell in love with UCLA for the first time. Every year I go I always have a wonderful time and I'm so grateful that I get to experience it. I'm going to miss things like this when I graduate. Which, thankfully, is not next year.

It's a hum-dinger

Sometimes I question why I do certain things even when in my heart I know they're right.

I got myself into too much this quarter. It's not that I don't have confidence in myself and my abilities but it's all becoming a little too much and I've only finished with the first week. I don't know how I pulled off a good grade in my English class last quarter when I didn't finish four of the twelve novels and completely missed a question on the final exam (as in, forgot to go back and answer it), but it's not going to fly for Elizabethan literature. It's not so much the grade I care about but the fact that I'm not going to learn anything. The class is just a dead-weight in my overloaded schedule. I want to drop it. But no can do...

What to do! I can't quit anything once I've already committed to it, nothing bothers me more than backing out at the last minute. But everyone's right, I can't do it all and still stay sane. This year I'm more tired than I've ever been in my entire life, and I'm not sure if I'm even doing it for the right reasons. If I were, I wouldn't be constantly questioning myself. But what are the right reasons? Even that is unclear.

If this keeps up I'll either have to become a complete recluse, or be hospitalized for exhaustion, or both. I'm trying to maintain a healthier lifestyle by going to sleep on time and eating right and getting regular exercise but it's not working, I still feel tired all the time and I can't escape the tenacious hold of my own vicious thoughts.

Everything is a haze and I can't see straight. I need some direction.

I'll sleep. Everything always looks better in the morning. Most of the time.

Bummer.

It's funny how people you've known pretty much your whole life can suddenly disappear. Not literally but in other ways. I've always believed that certain friendships could survive the distance but in many ways I was wrong - or just incredibly naive, which is strange because I'm usually not an optimist when it comes to these things. And it's not due to a lack of effort from either party, no one is to blame. Sometimes things just happen and that's how it is. I have come to accept the fact that there are things in life I simply cannot control and I'm okay with that. Or I will be okay. It takes a lot to break the human spirit. It's not something I can comprehend nor do I really want to. I guess what doesn't kill you does make you stronger.

But ouch. Those curve balls life throws at you? Sometimes you just don't see them coming until they hit you right where it hurts.

Tough Love

You know what annoys the hell out of me?

When people get all worked up over a fucking grade. I.e. when people make statements such as "OH MY GOD I'M FAILING ___ CLASS AND THE WORLD IS COMING TO AN END AND EVERYTHING AROUND ME SUCKS OH MY GOD."

Seriously. Shut up. The world does not revolve around you. If you didn't do so well the first time around, fucking study harder the next time and do better. Do whatever it takes to get the results you want. Or if you're just not cut out for whatever it is that's giving you that much grief, find something else to do - find something that you're actually passionate about. Find something that you have respect for and actually want to work towards. Maybe then you won't be so fucking whiny. I have no respect for people who make themselves miserable by forcing themselves to continue doing something that they clearly get no enjoyment out of. Yes, life is sometimes about fulfilling obligations and there are times when we have to make sacrifices for the greater good (yada yada - it's not the speech that bothers me, it's the people making it - using it as an excuse to avoid taking responsibility as well as initiative), but not when it comes to your livelihood. Not when it comes to something that you'll be doing for the REST OF YOUR FUCKING LIFE. So please, please FOR THE LOVE OF GOD or whoever the hell you want to reference - get passionate about something. And do it fast. Because life is short and we're all going to die. So whatever it is that's reducing you to a sniveling, pathetic, sorry excuse for a human being, get over it, move on, and do something with your life. How many people would kill to be in your spot right now? That's right. Think about that before you start crying on other people's shoulders. Not that I'm against that but sooner or later you're going to have to wake up (on your own) and face reality (on your own), girlfriend, and it ain't pretty. And honestly, it doesn't get any better than this.

Some of the best advice someone's ever given me: "Do what you love, and sooner or later you'll be kicking everyone else's ass."

I don't care if you don't kick ass. That's your business. Just don't get your ass kicked and fucking complain about it.

Sometimes, it's enough.

I think one of the reasons why this quarter is going by so fast is because I feel like I'm constantly swamped in work and things to do. As soon as I manage to get one thing out of the way, I feel like ten others still need to be done. It's a perpetual cycle that never ends.

Which is why I think it would be valuable for me to slow down and take some time to smell the roses, as cliche as that actually is. I should remember that no matter what kind of activities I choose to pursue over the course of the next few weeks, I'm here first and foremost to get an education. It's not as serious as it actually sounds. Getting an education could mean a lot of things. As long as I'm learning something - whether it's from books, from people, from running around like a hamster caught on an exercise wheel - I consider it to be part of my education. So it's not strictly book-related; I don't always have to be reading to be learning. But it does mean that I have to handle my time better, because there are only so many hours in a day, in a quarter even, to pursue those scholarly interests.

But that's not the point of this post. I don't feel like lamenting on the inevitable fact that life will always be perpetually busy and sometimes tiring, because that's been said and done too many times already.

I need to remember that as tough as handling things within a limited amount of time can sometimes get, really when it comes down to it, it's all a matter of perspective. One of those key things they teach you in an introductory psychology class is whether or not you view upcoming events, most likely those that keep you up at night worrying about how you're going to get them done, as either threats or challenges. If it's the latter you'd probably fare a lot better, and that's what I intend to do. It's what I gotta do. Otherwise I'd have to live with the fact that I'm a quitter, and that's ten times harder to do than anything I gotta get through right now.

I also need to remember that I'm at a pretty good place in my life right now. I know I'm not the most positive of people when it comes to looking ahead into the future, and I do sometimes fall into the trap of wanting what I don't have, but I gotta admit, I don't have much, if anything, to complain about right now. I'm doing things I'm interested in and even passionate about, I have good people in my life, a family that, while not on the most affectionate of terms, has never failed to show love in their own quirky, deep-under-the-surface ways, and a good peace of mind. A couple days ago I got to talk to my best friend who's halfway across the world and she's having an awesome time abroad. As much as I miss having her around, I'm really happy that she gets this chance to be somewhere she's always dreamed of being. Recently I started playing piano again, and that's been amazing. You never really know how much you miss doing something until you start it up again after a long absence. I've forgotten how the weight of the keys under my fingers could be such a soothing experience, even if most of the time I don't really hear what I'm playing (perhaps that's best). Sometimes it's not about how you do something - just that you do it. And that you love it, of course, because what is life without love?

Who's to say what tomorrow will bring but for now I am content. I don't think I'll ever be too old for Dr. Seuss when he says, "Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened." No need to hold nostalgia for the past or a warped optimism for the future, but always have an appreciation for today and what's there in the moment.

Someday. :)

Recently I've been thinking a lot about the future. Sometimes I wonder if I do it just to freak myself out, like a masochistic kind of thing. But really, I've thought about so many things recently...

And I'm beginning to have some doubts. Like, would I really be happy in New York? Could I handle going there by myself, learning to do everything by myself, be capable of making a semi-independent living (more independent than what I'm used to now, anyway) by myself? They say New York's the loneliest place to be if you don't have anybody, and I'm sure that's true to some extent. I'll have family nearby, of course, but it wouldn't be the same as staying in California. It would be a challenge. Am I up for it?

It also crossed my mind to apply for the Peace Corps. I was talking to someone about it and you know what, if there were a time and place to do such a thing, to go out there and see the world and maybe do a little good along the way, that would be now. Now as in soon, not now as in right this minute. But within the next year or so. Now is ideal because I have no commitments - no romantic commitments, no familial commitments, no children to raise and no financial troubles to worry about - not yet, anyway. I have a little time and I'm pretty much free to do what I want to do and go where I want to go. Who knows if I'll ever be this free again? It's an incredible feeling, this freedom. A little daunting too, in terms of the opportunities available.

Because as little as I know about my concrete plans regarding the next couple of years, I do know what I DON'T want. And that is to be stuck in the domesticity of family life. Which is not to say that I don't ever want to get married or have kids, but currently that's as far from my mind as more unusual things are. I mean, sorry Mom and Dad, as much as I love you and want you to be proud of me, I also realize that I only have one life to live and I gotta live it in a way that works for me. This is not to say I'm not willing to make sacrifices, when and if the time arises. But I'm not going to be that girl who gives up her hopes and dreams for what are considered more traditional norms in society. I'm not going to be the kind of girl who lives only for her family when she hasn't even figured out what she herself wants yet. Because right now it isn't 'till death do us part.' I'm not thinking about eternal things. I'm thinking about now.

To put it bluntly, I don't want to follow in my mom's footsteps, not even for love. She obviously loved my dad when she married him. Nobody forced her to do anything. And yet, why is it that for most of my childhood all I remember hearing was strictly about what she lost? Among other things - her intelligence, her youth, her sense of adventure. She didn't like raising kids, that much I know. And I've had so many conversations that begin with "You are not your mom" and "Not all marriages fail" but that's not the point. In the end, it's not about her, really. My thoughts are my own. And as jaded and cynical as they might be, I'm also not dumb enough to use my parents' situation or the past as an excuse.

Out of Boredom

Dislikes:

1. People who are full of themselves
2. When people don't take marriage seriously and see it as one big fun frivolous game
3. People who feel sorry for themselves and don't do anything to change their situation
4. Girls whose entire lives revolve around their boyfriends
5. Guys whose entire lives revolve around their girlfriends
6. Girls who dumb themselves down to impress a guy
7. Girls/guys whose entire personalities seem like one big cliche
8. Couch potatoes
9. Thoughtlessness
10. People who waste things
11. Sleazy old men
12. Sexism
13. People who are born wealthy and coast their way through life without any real drive or motivation
14. Burning books
15. When people interrupt others to talk about themselves
16. People who think they got you all figured out
17. Happy, unrealistic endings
18. Loud obnoxious people
19. People with a one-track mind
20. FLAKY PEOPLE
21. Making promises and not following through with them
22. When people kiss ass and it's very obvious
23. Extreme PDA (small things, not so much)
24. Uptight Puritan-like thinking
25. When people think that they should get married or have kids simply because they have reached a certain age and everyone else seems to be doing it

Likes:

1. Rain
2. Snow
3. Solitude
4. Laughter
5. Spontaneity
6. Seeing bizarre things
7. Swings
8. Watching parents play with their kids
9. Words
10. Pictures
11. Music as a process, not necessarily a product
12. Watching people when they're doing something they really love
13. Learning something completely useless and random about someone else
14. Open landscapes
15. Things you can't define
16. Good conversations
17. Sleeping in on a rainy day
18. Running in the rain
19. Big cities in the rain
20. Hearing other languages
21. A sense of community among strangers
22. Seeing people interact with animals
23. Losing all sense of time
24. Finishing a really hard task
25. Hearing both sides of the same story
26. The little details about a person that make them who they are
27. Any form of self-expression
28. Fruitful arguments about a difficult issue
29. Really long roads that don't seem to lead anywhere
30. Drinking something warm on a cold day
31. Beautiful lies
32. People you can count on
33. The truth
34. Retribution delivered poetically
35. Complexity
36. Genuine smiles
37. Not knowing how it's going to end
38. Adrenaline
39. Contemplation
40. The process
41. Earning money
42. Old movie theaters
43. Complex villains
44. Tortured heroes
45. The writing on the wall
46. The smell of someone you love
47. Long walks
48. Libraries
49. Stories
50. Working hard


Qualities I Admire In Other People:

1. Compassion
2. Integrity
3. Resilience
4. Independence
5. Desire to learn
6. Literacy
7. Modesty
8. Ability to take initiative
9. Willingness to try new things
10. Education
11. Ability to laugh
12. Ability to listen

Flaws:

1. I'm selfish.
2. I hold grudges.
3. I am easily bored.
4. I don't always appreciate what I have.
5. I compare myself to other people.
6. I'm cruel.
7. I'm more inclined to see people's weaknesses as opposed to their strengths.
8. Sometimes I can't stand to be around other people. Not even certain people, just people in general.
9. I think messed up thoughts.
10. I overanalyze.
11. I exaggerate.
12. I blow things out of proportion.
13. I read too much into things.
14. I don't feel close to those I love.
15. I have a very bad sense of direction.
16. I put things off.
17. I have very high expectations.
18. I can be extremely critical.
19. I am my own worst critic.
20. I get lethargic.
21. I'm not good at expressing what I feel.
22. I don't like it when other people act immature but I can be pretty immature myself.
23. When I'm angry, I say things without thinking, things I later regret.
24. I don't like to ask for help.
25. I have a temper.
26. I let fear prevent me from what I want to do. Not all the time, but sometimes.
27. I'm easily jealous.
28. I don't like to admit that I'm wrong.
29. I have trouble accepting compliments.
30. I'm not very good at self-control.
31. Sometimes I feel that the world is just fucked up.
32. Sometimes I feel like I'm full of shit.
33. I can be very judgmental.
34. I can let one bad/unhappy situation fuck up the state of my mind.
35. I don't believe in love that lasts forever.
36. I remember the things that don't matter and forget the things that do.
37. I have a hard time trusting people.

You know, I've been thinking.

If something happened and I died tomorrow, I don't think it would be that bad.

Okay, that came out wrong. Let me try to clarify.

If I died tomorrow, would it suck that I never got the chance to do all the things I've always wanted to do and see all the things I've wanted to see? Yes. Absolutely. That would really suck.

If I died tomorrow, would there be people that I'd miss in a way that words couldn't possibly begin to describe? Yes. Surprisingly so. I don't usually consider myself a very sentimental person (EXCEPT when reading a really, really sad book - then I'm worse than most) but for sure there are people in my life that it'd be difficult saying good-bye to.

Would I prefer to die tomorrow? No, of course not. I prefer to live, and to live as long as possible.

BUT, the thought of me dying doesn't freak me out. And that's a little surprising.

Dare I say that...I don't fear death?

I'm not sure if that's what I'm going for. It was just a passing thought. Maybe I just jinxed myself. Hmm. Not sure how I feel about that.

Dude I am freaking out.

Phone call of doom

My phone rings. It's an unknown number. I'm stupid and I answer it.

Me: Who is this?

Person on the other end: Your favorite person in the whole world.

Me: (thinks) Who is...?

Person on the other end: Your favorite person.

Me: Okay who is this really?

Person: Your boss, Jose.

Me: (thinking: crap!) Oh hi, what's up?

Boss: Ha, now you sound all polite. What are you doing tomorrow morning?

Me: Tomorrow morning is really not a good time.

B: But what are you doing?

Me: I have class at 10.

B: What about from 8 to 10?

Me: Um, sleeping?

B: So...

Me: I have a lot of work to do tonight so I'm probably going to be sleeping late. I don't think I can work tomorrow morning.

B: So why aren't you doing your work now? Why are you talking to me on the phone?

Me: Well, because the phone rang and when the phone rings you normally answer it.

B: (grilling) What work do you have?

Me: I have to fill out an application and I have a lot of schoolwork.

B: An application? You already have a job.

Me: (and what a greeeeeat job that is) Not for a job, for this newspaper thing.

B: Come on, you really can't come in for 2 hours?

Me: (exasperated) There's a reason I only asked for 4 hours this quarter!

B: No, you asked for 5 hours. I gave you 4. And you know why? To show you some love. So come on, do me this favor.

Me: (trying to sound forceful) But YOU made that choice. I'm sorry but I really don't think I can work tomorrow [and still function like a normal human being afterwards].

B: Okay fine. I'll bug you later in the week. I might need you for a closing shift.

DAMMIT. I knew I shouldn't have put all 10 digits correctly.

Go find some marbles to put in your happy wagon.

How it goes

Happy Things:

1. I'm more healthy than sick. Not so cold anymore.

Unhappy Things:

1. Found out some pretty shocking news today and can't sleep now thinking about it.

The Book Thief - READ IT!

The Book Thief is a phenomenal book. I know I probably say this about a lot of books (not loosely though - I do mean it every time I say it), but seriously, this is a must-read. No matter what your subject interest is, no matter what genre you prefer, no matter books you're used to reading and enjoying, I believe that anyone and everyone can get something out of this book.

Let me provide a little backdrop for what this book is about.

First notable detail: The Book Thief is told through the point of view of Death. First off, that's really ambitious. Using first-person in the form of death - how many books do that? I can't even name one right now.

Some other characters:

-The book thief herself
-Her dead brother
-Her best friend
-Her foster parents
-The Fuhrer (Hitler)
-A Jew
-Eleven stolen books
-The German town of Himmel (meaning "Heaven")

In the first scene Death witnesses the Book Thief for the first time. She is stealing her first book, The Gravedigger's Handbook. Throughout the course of the book, Death and the book thief only meet three times, the last time occurring at the very end. He is intrigued by her, but I can't say why without spoiling the crux of the story. All you gotta know is, she's an intriguing character, one of the best I've known.

The story takes place during 1939 in Nazi Germany, mostly in Himmel. On the cover of the book is a spiral-shaped row of dominoes about to be knocked over by an index finger located in the corner. The review from New York Times reads, "BRILLIANT and hugely ambitious. It's the kind of book that can be LIFE CHANGING." I say, screw the New York Times. Read this book and decide for yourself whether it can be life changing or not.

Here is my favorite quote from the book:

"There was once a strange, small man. But there was also a word shaker, too."

I guess you can argue that the book is about a lot of things - least of all the tragedy that took place during World War II, a massive black tear in the shredded fabric of human history: the Holocaust.

You can argue that the book is about the unfailing importance of human compassion - the kind that took root during Hitler's persecution and refused to let go against all odds. The kind that divided families and got people beaten and killed on a regular basis. Who knew that compassion and cruelty could exist in the same time-space continuum, and in such close quarters? There is a scene where the book thief's father, the kind of person who can't witness injustice without having himself react, tries to help an old Jewish man stand up after he has fallen, following days of dehydration and fatigue. The German guard who is in charge of marching the Jews catches sight of them and whips the father thoroughly in front of his family and the rest of the town. Yet afterwards, despite the red welts forming across his back, his only thought goes for the Jew hiding in his basement, whom they will surely find after he has established himself a traitor to the Third Reich, and not for himself.

You can argue that the book is about the shitty things that humans do to one another in times of fear and coercion. The old man who cringes helplessly as a giant rock is hurled through his store window by antisemitic neighbors. The father who is forced to go into war after refusing to send his son to Nazi Camp. A 12-year old who is buried in rubble after the building collapses, only to be sought by his mother minutes later. The constant bombings on Himmel Street. The many, many deaths. The Jew who sketches terrible scenes in his notebook in the corner of the basement he is forced to hide in. The little girl who watches him unfailingly as he falls sick and lies in a coma for fourteen days. And above all, Death as a witness. Death watching from afar, waiting from afar, ready to take the billions of souls lost during this time of destruction.

But personally, I think what this book is really about is the importance of words. Most people think of the Holocaust in terms of the concrete cruelties that the Nazis felt obligated to push through. Concentration camps, gas chambers, full-fledged starvation, barbed wire, guns and dogs and steel. But they tend to forget where all this monstrosity originated from. How did Hitler build his empire in the first place? How did he convince hordes of seemingly harmless, normally upstanding German citizens to rise up to his cause, even at the expense of injustice and cold-blooded murder?

There's a good chance that Hitler never even fired one gun during the time of the Third Reich. He didn't have to. He had people to do it for him, again and again and again. And why? How? Because of words. He took the power of words and used them to fit his own agenda. Hitler wasn't a stupid man. He knew what words could do to crowds and to the nation as a whole. He knew their potential. And he used it to fuel his hatred, their hatred. He used it to construct a life-crushing empire - you're either with us or you're against us. Choose your words wisely.

And so does the Book Thief. This is why she steals books. When she steals her first book, she's illiterate. She can't even attempt to read what she's picked up. But even then, she feels drawn to the book, captivated by the words on the pages lying before her. Death understands this. He watches her debate in her mind whether or not to pick up the book. And later on, she steals so that she can practice reading. This is what kills me about this book. A girl who loves to read so much that she makes it her purpose to steal books. Come on. Tell me this doesn't get to you at least a little bit.

Just imagine. A scrawny little twelve-year old hoisting herself through the window of the mayor's library (technically the mayor's wife, but let's not go into specifics) in order to steal a BOOK. She's starving, she's cold, she's tired - but she's going through a whole lot of trouble in order to steal a couple of pages. Because that's how much she loves reading, how much she loves the words. Can you picturing that happening in today's world? Certainly not in America, where reading is becoming a dead art faster than you can say, "Pick up a book, idiot! Read before you forget how to!" (Yeah, honestly, do you ever wonder why this generation of kids seems so much dumber?)

Words fuel everything in this book, and not just in the literal sense. Words shape the characters (their reaction to words manages to reveal a lot about them already), they build the momentum, they break and form relationships, they perpetrate power, the kind used to hurt and the kind used to heal, but most of all - they linger. Read it (hell, just READ) and you'll see what I mean when I say this. There's nothing more powerful than words in The Book Thief. Nothing. Not the Book Thief. Not Hitler. Not the bombs and the soldiers and the whips. Not even death.

Understand the importance of words and you're set for life. I honestly believe that. Yes, nothing beats experience. Nothing beats going out there and doing the thing yourself, whatever it may be. But after all is said and done, what remains? What are memories made of? Where do dreams go after you've dreamed them? What preserves life and love and experience in all its temporary, faded glory? How are you going to be remembered after you die?

"There was once a small, strange man. But there was a word shaker, too."

Now there's something you won't forget.

My uncle and my grandpa look and talk exactly alike. It's really cute.


So I'm looking outside right now and it's totally SUNNY, isn't that weird?


Christmas always reminds me of the Home Alone movies. Man, I loved those as a kid.

Emotionally Fraught

I finished an amazing book today. I would talk about it but it's late and I don't have the mental energy, especially since I think I have a fever as I'm writing this...

It's Christmas and raining outside. Usually these two things alone would be enough to make me smile, but for some reason I'm not feeling very Christmas-y. Maybe I'm too old for such things. I just find the whole gift-exchanging process so lame and tiring, unless it's someone you REALLY like and must express your love for in the form of something tangible and materialistic - but even then, gifts aren't a necessity. I would much rather have people give me their time, their talk, and their faces. A simple phone call, a written card - whatever happened to the sanctity of price-free, good old wholesome communication? A little contact goes a long way, and I'm not talking about posting on someone's wall using Facebook. You and me, we're a little more intimate than that, or so I'd like to think, so why not indulge in the relationship every now and then? But even during the holiday season, when you are automatically obligated to spend time with loved ones, this seems hard to arrange. I'm just going to say it outright - this makes me extremely sad. Sometimes I feel like I'm trying to keep in touch with people who really don't give a shit. I hate that excuse - "no time." Such a sad, pathetic excuse. It's like giving someone the middle finger without actually having to give it. Mark my words, I would never say this to someone I truly cared about.

The bottom line is this: If you are important to me even in the slightest, I WILL MAKE THE TIME AND EFFORT TO SPEND TIME WITH YOU. And not just when it's convenient or out of sheer boredom. Period. No ifs, ands, or buts. Life is too short to do otherwise. And if you don't feel the same way, at least have the decency to let me know in a truthful manner. I don't want to have to wade through layers of bullshitting in order to understand where you're coming from. If you don't see me as a friend, at least see me as, oh I don't know, someone human perhaps? Not a little voice mailbox that you can shovel petty messages into. Goddamn. Humanity disappoints thoroughly at times. Or at least certain people do.

I have been trying to work on my temper and pessimism over the past year but certain individuals like to push the limits...

I've been pretty sick these past couple of days and spending six hours in rainy and freezing San Francisco yesterday wasn't exactly the smartest idea. Everywhere I went there were NO TISSUES! It was crazy. My runny nose was bothering me the whole time I was on BART. But it was good to catch up with people, nonetheless. Sometimes I feel like even if I had all the time in the world I couldn't see all the people I want to see - at times this makes me sad, other times I couldn't care less.

Oh no, my sore throat is coming back. A bad sign. The cold is sneaking back up on me. I should get off the internet and go to sleep. For some reason I kinda want to throw up too. Gross. My body's so weak. It used to be able to handle the cold weather just fine but ever since I went to LA it's all been downhill from there, health-wise. I don't tend to get sick at school but whenever I come home it seems inevitable. Oh Bay Area, I do love you in all your gray dreariness, so why not have a little mercy on me?

I can't remember the last time I wasn't cold.