hey everybody!

this is cross-posted from my other blog, bao makes_. Yep, I’m telling you the link to it instead of sending you on a wild goose chase. It’s part of a new direction I’m taking, which you can read about if you wish in the content below n_n

the last few months of 2011 were the period with the most online wandering i’ve ever done: in a period of three to four months i moved around from blog to blog, in the same way that i was vacillating in life. in a way i think each blog was a shell of intimacy, and those shells became harder each time i started a new blog. since my virtual persona has always been such a large part of me, thinking about my words, the places where i project my words, and the reasons why i move from place to place online, parallels to thinking about my affective homes in real life, the times i’m silent and the times i’m effusive, and the reasons why i have had to leave certain places behind.

the first blog, lovelylimns, was hosted on wordpress and remained secret except towards the very end of its life. that is truly where all my vespertine cries sounded out into the night, into the silence of virtual space, and where i finally let the people from the past who i was haunted by finally see into me through the lens of my words… and doing that in turn let me see into myself through the lens of the past… it allowed me to connect the past and the present, and suddenly everything clicked: why i was trapped in the present, because i hadn’t yet given myself the opportunity to figure out my past. the relationship i was in, all the people i was pushing away in some form or another – by trying to keep my feelings in check, by telling myself those people weren’t important to me, anyway, etc. – those were all ways for me to  push the past away. but a woman who hasn’t found the thread running from her past to her present is like a stray cat: she’s affectionate and loveable, and might attract people to her because of that, but they don’t know her story, because she herself does not know her story. we women can’t be cats. we have to be people, with our own stories.

so that was the first big move i made, in real life and in virtual life. all that i had kept in secret before, in the only space i was “allowed” to explore myself whilst in that relationship, turned inside out. i wanted to put all of myself on display as a sign of rebellion: i’m not going to hide anymore! the second blog which resulted from this new attitude was mellamobao, also hosted on wordpress. there the level of intimacy was not so close: i had moved on to talking in broad generalities, but still the allusions were connected to my personal life easily enough if you knew me as a person. but it was personal enough that i posted pictures of my outfit, let my sadness show, and talked a bit about my hopes and fears. the extrovert personality of that blog worked, because that blog attracted the most followers i’ve ever had, ever, and with hardly any effort on my part.

(here’s the part of this post that will be hardest to write, since it pertains to the present, which i inescapably have fragmented understanding of – retrovision is the clearest!)

but somewhere along the way, i got tired of being so out there and open. i think some of it had to do with the fact that i had finally gotten past the self-righteous stage of a break-up where i was still declaring to the world, but mostly to myself, that i had made the right choice. i wanted to put on a brave face to help me get through the solitude and depression of my decision…

this blog was meant to be somewhat secret, too. the reason why i moved to blogger was because, due to past experience with their service years and years ago, i thought i wouldn’t have access to anything but the most rudimentary of reader stats, i.e., simply how many readers i got each day, not the links or google searches which referred them here, not the countries they live in, or the internet browser they use – in other words, not too much information about my audience which would fill me with anxiety of influence and of making a good impression.

funny, i moved here from wordpress thinking i’d have peace of mind from all that anxiety, but instead i find they provide even MORE information here now than over at wordpress -_-. i continued with this blog anyway, telling myself that i could be strong and resist, and simply keep writing how and what i felt like writing. plus, i had put in a ton of time thinking about the name of this blog, customizing the layout with care put into every detail, etc. and didn’t want to put all that time to waste!

i think, though, when i’m not in EXTROVERTED, SELF-AFFIRMATION mode, my default mode is to be super inhibited. i tend to think of myself too much from an outsider’s perspective, and i always project disapproving judgment into the minds of others when looking at me… so when in a forum as public as a blog i will be as vague as possible about my life so that i don’t give people much material to work with in hypothetically “judging” me.

one thing i do shamelessly, though, which goes hand in hand with staying vague about my life, is try to be all “mysterious” and “artsy.” i think that’s a trap that a lot of bloggers fall into, they romanticize themselves and their lives too much – just sample some of the most popular lifestyle blogs out there. maybe that’s really how their lives are, full of amazing vintage finds and handmade everything, and they and all of their friends dress really stylishly and/or whimsically, and they go to the beach and on picnics every weekend, etc… if so, well, good for them. my life isn’t like that, though! i am too much of a hermit to ever do those kinds of things on a regular basis, and on the rare occasions i do plan for lunch with friends, and get dressed up, etc. i definitely wouldn’t want to ruin our time together with my self-consciousness, which would DEFINITELY arise if i were consciously planning blogging about it later!

my life isn’t artsy. my life is normal, and full of shit. i rub up against that fact every morning when i lay in bed gathering the willpower i need to get through a day of school followed by work. so why the attempt to romanticize myself online? i think it’s the attempt to distance myself. from everything. from a life full of menial tasks. (i know it’s all leading some idealized future, but why can’t it all be beautiful?) distance myself from people, from the potential of being judged.

but you know what? i don’t want to distance myself from people. this effort i’m making, to regard my internet persona as me, with all the importance and responsibility and vitality that that implies, means that i need to stop regarding this blog as the altar to lain.

besides, art can’t be done self-consciously. i can’t turn the whole of my life into art without losing the natural flow of it. somewhere in life, probably in all of life, there is poetry. but i’m not good at poetry. i am barely starting to get good at living.

i should be good at not caring if i’m judged by now. after all, it turns out that, out of ALL the classes on this campus populated with thirty thousand some people, it just so happens that my EX of all people is in my latin american and brazilian culture class. i didn’t think that could happen unless one of us planned it, and i sure as heck didn’t. but anyway i am awfully good at ignoring him. (okay, i’m sure there are minute changes in my behavior and in my threshold of self-awareness, but… still. i’m functioning just fine at the academic level.)

so, anyway, i just wanted to let everyone know that, from now on, this blog is no longer some lame attempt at self-stylizing. just the inane ramblings of a 21-year old girl who thinks way too much for her own good

mkay you guys

i’ve decided… secret blog, schmeecret blog. there is no point in keeping things secret online. it’s silly to think that if it’s “secret” then i’ll be “truer” to myself. no matter what the medium or the supposed degree of isolation, we are always negotiating our identities through others, even if it is the internalized others of our heads. and there is no “true” me, some sort of static object i can attain full understanding of if i isolate her and study her in some illusory pure form. i’m in a process of constantly becoming.

i’m trying to read schopenhauer’s world as will and representation. i’ve been trying to read it for quite a while now but can’t get past the first two sections, i suppose because i haven’t read the requisite essays he uses as a stepping stone for this book. but the first section, i get. i think. i think i’ve glimpsed, through the trajectory of my own life, parts of his philosophy. here is a passage that especially resonated with me:

That which knows all things and is known by none is the subject. It is accordingly the supporter of the world, the universal condition of all that appears, of all objects, and it is always pre-supposed; for whatever exists, exists only for the subject. Everyone finds himself as this subject, yet only in so far as he knows, not in so far as he is object of knowledge. But his body is already object, and therefore from this point of view we call it representation. For the body is object among objects and is subordinated to the laws of objects, although it is immediate object. Like all objects of perception, it lies within the forms of all knowledge, in time and space through which there is plurality. But the subject, the knower never the known, does not lie within these forms; on the contrary, it is always presupposed by those forms themselves, and hence neither plurality nor its opposite, namely unity, belongs to it. We never know it, but it is precisely that which knows wherever there is knowledge.

basically, what i get out of this – and other passages, too, perhaps – is that we are all subjects, for whom reality exists only as conditioned by our subjective experiences, thus making everything that we perceive, even people who are to themselves subjects, objects of our perception. even we, as subjects, become objects of study when we try to turn our perception inwards and scrutinize. but when we scrutinize we can only study those parts of ourselves which can be rendered inert. only when we have stepped back from our lived experiences, and turned those experiences into specimens with fixity can we study them. to “know” ourselves is only to know ourselves as objects, while the subject, the part of us in the process of scrutinizing is never wholly knowable since we as subjects are always changing, moving.

words are so inadequate. my words are, at least.

anyway. that’s the kind of thinking-out-loud i’m doing on my other blog. i won’t bother posting a link here. i’ll just say this. a google search of certain copy-and-paste tidbits from this blog might lead you to my other one. i don’t know why you’d be interested in reading my inept ramblings, but who knows

goaling

let’s face it. new year’s resolutions don’t work. but living with goals in mind does. i’ve been that person before, that person who spends days and days making plans yet never follows through with them ’cause she never feels “prepared” enough. well, guess what. you can never prepare yourself fully for the hectic helter-skelter of life. you just gotta improvise and try your best with the goals you have in mind! life is what happens when you’re busy planning. so i wanna just focus on the living part! i’m not gonna detail how exactly i’m gonna make each one of my goals happens. i’m just gonna make it happen!

starting with step one: no more escapism.

without further ado, here are my goals, which i am working towards NOW.

1. limit my time on the internet to 2 hours a day, not including the time i spend doing homework.
2. cook all my meals, and eat out only once every two weeks.
3. whittle my waist down to 26″ again. maybe even 25″. the number doesn’t really matter. just how tone i get. i’m shooting to weigh in the 110-115 range.
   • <<my legs will look like this, only BETTER
   • naturally, this goal involves exercise. i’m aiming for three times a week for cardio and strength training, and twice a week for pilates
     
4. budget my money
   • $10/wk for groceries
   • $10/2 wks (or $5/wk) for eating out
   • $40/month for shopping (let’s face it… i’m never gonna be able to give fashion up. but if i limit what i spend, i’ll buy things i really want and will use instead of things that just waste away, taking up space in my closet)
   • $20/month for products i use that aren’t school-related. i suspect this will go mainly towards beauty products.
5. tutor at bvhs and for swap, twice a week for each – at least.

a pixelated dream of reality

after spending all day in bed, laptop propped up on my thigh, i am perplexed. not frustrated. i don’t need to be busy all the time. i prefer a slow pace, actually. i think it creates room for thoughts to expand and explore. but perplexed. because even for me the time i devoted today to this blog is exorbitant, especially with so little to show for it. i don’t know what to make with my time when it comes to doing stuff in the real world. and i ended up spending all day on the internet, making up things to do, most of them involving this blog. (thinking i wanted to write, but not yet knowing what.) i am more concerned with making my virtual space feel home-y to me than i am with my physical space.

it’s always been that way; i never had freedom to customize my reality in the real world. my rooms in ky and phuong’s habitations were littered with other people’s things – exercise equipment, giant subwoofers, old furniture that didn’t belong to me. i occupied every space as a guest: my parents’ house, the government-subsidized housing of all the babysitters i had, my friends’ family activities. i tiptoed through everyone’s lives, not wanting to intrude too much, feeling like a burden. no pictures of my life, like the ones which proliferated on camtu’s walls, hung on mine. no marks of my identity were to be seen in my physical surroundings. not readily anyway. i directed my vision inward. and my mind brimmed with things i had little way of letting out other than through words, through virtual spaces and abstract symbols whose meaning and importance only i cared about. no ventures out in the world, no establishment of anything really lasting in shared realities with other people. i never learned how to navigate the real world, really. just as my body scars easily from the slightest impact with the concrete, my inner self is sensitive to any outside contact.

i never could look at a camera directly, either. i don’t take pictures to share my experiences with people, per se. snapshots of people baring their biggest grins, dressed up, huddled in groups with their friends at a club or bar… that type of picture rarely will feature me. i take pictures just as i use words, to express something about myself, to catch glimpses of what i carry inside when words fall short. so when i’m unhappy with my current circumstances, or uncertain about what actions to take in my life, you will find me dawdling in virtual spaces, trying to inhabit my words and frozen images of reality, preferring representations of life over what is always presencing in life itself (iain mcgilchrist’s term). out of habit, maybe, or insecurity.

stalling on life. i think that’s what i’m doing. because the virtual is where i have found fleeting communities. where i have, by myself, erected flimsy walls of words to call “home.” but no one can join me here. they can only push their faces up against the screen, peer into my loneliness, and comment on the decor.

i think it’s about time for something more real. with the virtual, i’ve escaped a family in which i felt ignored. through the virtual, the real-but-not-quite-real, i’ve escaped a cloistered relationship that allowed me no other outlet. what is there to escape now? there’s nothing left to limit me from living my life how i want to. is that what i’m trying to escape from, after all that i’ve given up, the huge leaps i’ve taken on unstable ground – the power, and the responsibility, of life? a life lived on my own terms… unfamiliar and terrifying. but not something to escape from.

this is not going to be my main blog anymore. it just doesn’t feel right to me. it feels more like a performance, and that’s not what i want life nor my reflection on life to be. to the acquaintances who have commented on my posts, thanks for encouraging me, but i’ve decided this is not the right place to look for community. i have started another, “secret” blog. i’m not intent on keeping it secret, but regard it more as a bottle i send out to sea – and whoever reads it or comments on it doesn’t concern me, as long as they belong to the anonymity of the wide-open internet, so that i’m not censoring myself or putting on an act with a certain audience in mind.

tanya davis, thanks

i was lonely from no love and you showed me what it could do
you showed me what i would do when i had some but it is not to be with you
and i’ve been sad enough and i’ve been mad some but what good does that do
the leaves are not upset that they’re leaving their branches
things change, time passes, death happens
and what happened surely changed me
and the hereafter is full of sadness that is raw and also so sweet
’cause every time a cold heart thaws it sends a river of tears to nourish the ground on the way
to the sea

i bow my head to praise and remember this
look up again to greet my day
this is a eulogy for you and me i won’t forget
still i’ll let go just the same

from her poem, “eulogy for you and me”

Carlos. At the end of the day. Thanks. And you’re welcome. Sorry. And you’re forgiven.

Adios.

My first good day

Today was my first good day, on my terms. No it wasn’t good because I had someone there to assuage my loneliness. No it wasn’t good because I mindlessly did something to occupy myself. It was good because I felt motivated. It was good because I started doing things to make myself more of a real person. Baby steps.

Woke up around 9:30. That in itself was a pleasant surprise. I have been suffering anxiety and have not been able to sleep for more than four hours a night, but my sleep was deep last night, and restful. Then I started cleaning my apartment. Threw out the trash. Hung up all the clothes I left strewn about from a bajillion outfit changes. Cleaned the bathroom. Scrubbed the floor of my kitchen. Did all the dishes. Dusted. Scrubbed the counters. Made my bed. I even ran a lint roller over my sheets, LOL.

By the end of this, it was 12 already.  I had worked up an appetite, so I made myself brunch: a pumpkin buckwheat cake bake which I ate with banana slices and peanut butter. Listened to This American Life as I enjoyed my well-earned meal and cup of coffee. In the middle of it, Carlos’ mom called to arrange dropping off my stuff. She said they’d be by in about forty minutes. I savored the rest of my breakfast, sat on the couch some more listening to NPR, and then hopped in the shower. I had decided I’d be going to apply at a retirement home that is offering positions in their dining hall waitstaff, after Carlos’ parents dropped by. So I was ironing my business casual outfit – a pair of khaki chinos and a collared shirt – when I heard a knock on the door. My meeting with Carlos’ parents was short, a little emotional, but they treated me like an adult. They didn’t challenge my decision, except to caution me with the “hormonal imbalance” problem they always suspect me of having… Right. That is the only possible explanation, my hormones, my body, my brain – it couldn’t possibly be that there was anything wrong with the relationship, because Carlos is the consummate partner. Oh! Let me go back to him now and beg for his forgiveness and understanding. Carlos, it was all my body’s fault this whole time – stupid body, stupid brain, stupid Bao.Yeah, right.

After they left, I gotta admit I cried a little, as I finished ironing. But then I changed. I brushed my teeth, did my makeup. Edited my resumé and printed it out. Wrote a cover letter, printed that otu. Wrote down contact info for references. Packed my purse. And out the door. Had to catch the BOUND and the SKIP, but it was not a long trip, and the retirement home was surprisingly very close to the bus stop, which was great because I was wearing heels that were slightly too big for me and my toes were chafing from all the extra shifting-around room. Turns out when I arrived, there was a choir just about to start their performance in the lobby. So I got to enjoy some Christmas carols as I filled out my application n_n Then turned in my application, and back home. The bus took forever though, as it is Sunday, and it was around 6:30 when I finally got home. Made myself dinner of pork chop seasoned with garlic powder, chili powder, and salt, and a very simple salad (basically just red-leaf lettuce and ranch, haha). Also had an orange and some pineapple. THEN I wrote a very important letter to the scholarship committee that is rooting for me to become a teacher. After doing that, I made myself a cup of chai tea, and now here I am

Everyday life is an adventure to me now. Even the little things we all do everyday means so much more to me, because I’m doing it on my own terms. So sorry if all this sounds very mundane to you, if you even read this far. To me it’s all very exhilarating and encouraging. Because I wasn’t depressed today. I didn’t spend all day in bed. I did productive things with my time.  And I’m proud of myself.

Tags: cooking, food, housekeeping, intuitive eating, job hunting, self-sufficiency

My goals for winter break

1. Find a job.
2. Do cardio and strength exercise three times a week. Not too worried about losing weight, but I’m gonna try a little harder not to gain any more, teehee.
3. Eat moderately, and cook every day.
4. Don’t eat out.
5. Check out books from the library on teaching English as a second language, so that come next semester, I’ll be a better tutor for SWAP
6. Read more.
7. Talk to my friends more. Get to know old friends better. Make new friends, even! n_n
8. Sell clothes and shoes to the Buffalo Exchange or Plato’s Closet. I already have a suitcase of things I’m gonna try to turn into money.
9. Look into the Education Diversity Scholars program, and the education minor option.
10. Leave my pity party of one.
11. Start leading a life I can be proud of.
12. Open myself to possibilities. As Björk sings, “Uncertainty excites me!” No one really knows where life is going to lead them. They just go with their best instincts. I’m gonna embrace uncertainty, and trust my instincts

A few things I’m enjoying lately:

1. Roasted veggies! Broccoli, zucchini, cauliflower, drizzled with olive oil, balsamic vinegar and sea salt. Then, once the veggies have gotten all crispy in the oven, you add some shredded cheese on top and pop it back in for another five minutes so it all melts. DEEEEElicious. My mouth waters every time I think of this dish. I don’t even need meat when veggies are so good! Literally. My pork chops have been sitting in my freezer ignored. Which I guess saves money
2. Blue and orange. Any shade. Light blue with a burnt, deep, almost red, orange. Electric blue works in that combo too. I donno, just something about it fits my mood.
3. Drake’s Take Care album when I’m in a bubbly mood.
4. Grizzly Bear’s Yellow House album when I’m in a contemplative mood.

A few thoughts:

Everyone my age should be scared. It’s even healthy for us be scared. Think about it. Life is full of possibilities right now, and we’re faced with the huge decisions and responsibility of deciding where we want our lives to go. I will even go so far as to say that, if you’re not scared, you’re probably insulating yourself a little too much from the real world – following a neat and tidy life path prescribed to you by someone else, or depending on other people for a safety blanket. Or maybe just stagnating.

Therefore, I’m not going to feel sorry for myself anymore for being in such an uncertain period in my life. I am strong, I am capable. As proof, I only have to look to the fact that I made it this far without guidance from my parents and basically raised myself the best I could psychologically up until now – and I’m in college, not depending on anyone else at all anymore, and doing well. So I’m definitely capable of taking responsibility for my life fully now.

Tags: cooking, exercise, intuitive eating