This will be my first drunken post ever. I've come to realize a couple things about myself. Thing the first: I'm a whiney stupid bitch that needs to suck it up. Thing the second: I'm an attractive, smart, talented and mature person and I really need to stop feeling sorry for myself all the time.
I keep on comparing myself to other people and I've only just realized how stupid that is. I have a lot of issues with my height even though I'm not really that short. Apparently a lot of people would go for me if I was just a little bit taller.
But you know what? Fuck that shit! So what if I'm like two inches shorter than ideal. All those tall fuckers in the world don't have nearly as much to offer as I do other than their height. I may not be as big as all the guys that everyone falls over, but I'm still cute and I'm one hell of a good lay. (If you were ever in the sack with me and wasn't that impressed, it's probably cuz I didn't think you were that cute.)
Wow, I type really fast when I'm drunk. It's amazing. Anyway, this no sex pact I have with myself is kinda good. I feel a lot better about myself in general now that I'm not whoring my body out for tiny tiny droplets of self-respect.
I'm really drunk, but my punctuation is still on point. Nerd.
6.30.2006
6.28.2006
Last January.
Last January, Katy asked me to do her a favor. She said, every day, before I went to sleep to write out 3 things that I did well or 3 things that I liked about myself. After laughing at her, I told her that it could never happen... that each day it was hard for me to even find one thing that I liked much less 3 whole things.
But I was thinking about it just now and I have 3 things, so here go.
1. I'm kind of a nutcase. But when I become disgustingly famous, it will complement my gifts. Like Mozart, Howard Hughes or Mariah Carey, at the mention of my name, people will say, "He's really talented... but also a bit crazy."
2. Everytime I try to close my iTunes, I get a message saying that someone is connected to my shared music. Last month, in the dormitory lobby, I guy came up to me and asked me if it was my library that he listened to, and then complemented my taste in music. Later, I hit on him.
3. MY GAME ≤ ZERO. Sometimes it frustrates me to no end that I don't know how to hit on guys. But this is probably a good thing. The less men I sucessfully take home, the less likely I am to contract HIV.
(Katy: See how hard that last one was to come up with?)
But I was thinking about it just now and I have 3 things, so here go.
1. I'm kind of a nutcase. But when I become disgustingly famous, it will complement my gifts. Like Mozart, Howard Hughes or Mariah Carey, at the mention of my name, people will say, "He's really talented... but also a bit crazy."
2. Everytime I try to close my iTunes, I get a message saying that someone is connected to my shared music. Last month, in the dormitory lobby, I guy came up to me and asked me if it was my library that he listened to, and then complemented my taste in music. Later, I hit on him.
3. MY GAME ≤ ZERO. Sometimes it frustrates me to no end that I don't know how to hit on guys. But this is probably a good thing. The less men I sucessfully take home, the less likely I am to contract HIV.
(Katy: See how hard that last one was to come up with?)
6.26.2006
Everything happens for a reason.
Sometimes it seems like the worst things happen to you. I like to think that they happen for a reason... either to prevent you from doing something worse or to teach you a lesson. Natalia told me last year she believed the same thing, and that I should just put my problems exactly where the were--in the past--and move on. It's the same thing that christians are referring to when they say "god has a plan".
I'm sitting in a Coffee Bean trying to study for my final tomorrow. A guy comes up and speaks to me in chinese. He holds out two flash drives. I tell him I don't understand what he wants me to do. He talks some more, and then I tell him I don't speak chinese. At this point I realize he's not gonna leave me alone, so I transfer his damn files for him.
Before I came to Shanghai I thought there was a big plan for me. That everything that happened to me over the past had happened for a reason and it was all pointing me to Shanghai. I thought that Arthur broke up with me because if he didn't I might've stayed for him. I thought I was always depressed because fate wanted me to be able to comfort other people with their problems. In Shanghai, I would find that part of me that I was looking for. Maybe I'd fall in love. Maybe I'd learn to love myself. Maybe I'd get over my depression.
I'm going back home in less than a week, and none of this stuff has really happened. I'll be back in Shanghai in two months. I've come to the conclusion that things happen for a reason, but it's always up to me to figure out why. I think it's about time I grew up and stopped relying on fate to put me in the right direction.
Forrest Gump said it was a little of both. I think everyone is destined to end up somewhere, but it's up to us to decide how we get there.
I shave my head in the summers in the years that I want change the most. Hair has always been symbolic for me. Having no hair means less time in the mirror fixing up my appearance. Less time in the mirror means more time in the rest of the world.
I know where I'm gonna end up in the future. One day I'm going to truly be happy with myself, and I'm not going to need a boy by my side to tell me that I'm lovable and capable of loving other people. I'm going to have a place somewhere and stroll the streets in my off-time walking my puppy through my neighborhood. My boyfriend will run up behind me wrap me in his arms and ask me to guess who. I'll reply "Jay Chou?" I'll love him, but no more than I'll love having my sanity. When my friends visit I'll show them my meticulously decorated apartment and serve them tea or beer; Eve or Rick. I'll ride my bike through the streets and hear the jazz in my head bouncing off the building walls.
One day... I'm going to stop wanting change. But if things ever do change from there, I won't try to get in the way.
I'm sitting in a Coffee Bean trying to study for my final tomorrow. A guy comes up and speaks to me in chinese. He holds out two flash drives. I tell him I don't understand what he wants me to do. He talks some more, and then I tell him I don't speak chinese. At this point I realize he's not gonna leave me alone, so I transfer his damn files for him.
Before I came to Shanghai I thought there was a big plan for me. That everything that happened to me over the past had happened for a reason and it was all pointing me to Shanghai. I thought that Arthur broke up with me because if he didn't I might've stayed for him. I thought I was always depressed because fate wanted me to be able to comfort other people with their problems. In Shanghai, I would find that part of me that I was looking for. Maybe I'd fall in love. Maybe I'd learn to love myself. Maybe I'd get over my depression.
I'm going back home in less than a week, and none of this stuff has really happened. I'll be back in Shanghai in two months. I've come to the conclusion that things happen for a reason, but it's always up to me to figure out why. I think it's about time I grew up and stopped relying on fate to put me in the right direction.
Forrest Gump said it was a little of both. I think everyone is destined to end up somewhere, but it's up to us to decide how we get there.
I shave my head in the summers in the years that I want change the most. Hair has always been symbolic for me. Having no hair means less time in the mirror fixing up my appearance. Less time in the mirror means more time in the rest of the world.
I know where I'm gonna end up in the future. One day I'm going to truly be happy with myself, and I'm not going to need a boy by my side to tell me that I'm lovable and capable of loving other people. I'm going to have a place somewhere and stroll the streets in my off-time walking my puppy through my neighborhood. My boyfriend will run up behind me wrap me in his arms and ask me to guess who. I'll reply "Jay Chou?" I'll love him, but no more than I'll love having my sanity. When my friends visit I'll show them my meticulously decorated apartment and serve them tea or beer; Eve or Rick. I'll ride my bike through the streets and hear the jazz in my head bouncing off the building walls.
One day... I'm going to stop wanting change. But if things ever do change from there, I won't try to get in the way.
6.25.2006
Growth is a kind of love.
I think I've finally come to a point in my life when I'm ready to make sacrifices in order to be the way that I want to be. For a very long time now, I've measured my self-worth by the frequency of sex I've had... as if I'm only as good as I am sexually desired.
So I made a contract with myself, a promise on paper.
No more sex for at least 6 months and afterwards, I can only have sex with someone who considers himself to be my boyfriend... AND we have to have been together for at least 3 months. So realistically looking at this, I will probably be celibate for about a year, maybe less, maybe more.
I talked with some friends about this and they all thought it was a good idea. Annalyn once told me a couple years back that I was addicted to sex, but I didn't really understand what it meant. I didn't take it seriously, because I know I didn't have that much sex. But now I realize it's not so much about how often it happens. It's more about what it means to you and how you use it to escape the world.
It's my heroine, my crack cocaine. I start to feel bad about myself and the world and I go and find sex with the next moving thing. Yesterday I did it again. I didn't even know him and afterward, I felt numb and empty... but I still think it felt better than sad and unstable. Within the past couple of weeks, the zoloft has completely left my body, and I'm back where I was November 2005 or February 2002 or October 2001.
These months aren't when it was worst. They're right before they got worse.
So I get to make a decision again. Do I let history repeat? Do I fall until I can barely stand to pick up the scattered pieces and find myself another niche in the world--full of people who don't know about me? Or do I make a decisive move and grow up? I'm 23 right now, and I feel like a child. Ridiculous tantrums dressed up with all the words and sentence structures I learned to use throughout my college years. But in the end, maybe I am just a baby... crying the minute someone leaves the room, because I really can't stand to be by myself.
I came to Shanghai to learn to love myself again. But I realize now that it's going to be really hard, because I'm not sure if the word "again" applies. Was there ever a time when I really did? Probably not. If I remember my life by months and years, then maybe sometime in 2008 or 2009, I could look back on June 2006 and remember it as the month when things started getting better. For good.
So I made a contract with myself, a promise on paper.
No more sex for at least 6 months and afterwards, I can only have sex with someone who considers himself to be my boyfriend... AND we have to have been together for at least 3 months. So realistically looking at this, I will probably be celibate for about a year, maybe less, maybe more.
I talked with some friends about this and they all thought it was a good idea. Annalyn once told me a couple years back that I was addicted to sex, but I didn't really understand what it meant. I didn't take it seriously, because I know I didn't have that much sex. But now I realize it's not so much about how often it happens. It's more about what it means to you and how you use it to escape the world.
It's my heroine, my crack cocaine. I start to feel bad about myself and the world and I go and find sex with the next moving thing. Yesterday I did it again. I didn't even know him and afterward, I felt numb and empty... but I still think it felt better than sad and unstable. Within the past couple of weeks, the zoloft has completely left my body, and I'm back where I was November 2005 or February 2002 or October 2001.
These months aren't when it was worst. They're right before they got worse.
So I get to make a decision again. Do I let history repeat? Do I fall until I can barely stand to pick up the scattered pieces and find myself another niche in the world--full of people who don't know about me? Or do I make a decisive move and grow up? I'm 23 right now, and I feel like a child. Ridiculous tantrums dressed up with all the words and sentence structures I learned to use throughout my college years. But in the end, maybe I am just a baby... crying the minute someone leaves the room, because I really can't stand to be by myself.
I came to Shanghai to learn to love myself again. But I realize now that it's going to be really hard, because I'm not sure if the word "again" applies. Was there ever a time when I really did? Probably not. If I remember my life by months and years, then maybe sometime in 2008 or 2009, I could look back on June 2006 and remember it as the month when things started getting better. For good.
6.14.2006
Get lost.
I walk down the street, with all my focus buried in the attention of my cell phone. I need minutes, and badly. As I listen to the automated voice instruct me in broken english, I wonder if I'm at the point in my studies where I can start pressing 1 on my touch tone keypad for Mandarin. Two boys come out of the storefront up ahead, one with his arm around the other. I think to myself, "how cute". The other boy's arm reaches up to the small of his back, as if he were trying to reach a higher hetero-appropriate area. His hand then falls to the other guy's right buttcheek and gives it a long hard squeeze... then I think to myself, "how long has it been since you got laid?"
I've been working in front of the computer for several hours trying to get this contract graphic design business of mine going. Two weeks = two customers = $600 US = 2 mo. rent in Shanghai. But it's not enough. As good as it sounds right now, I can only live off the gap between the US dollar and Chinese RMB for so long. I need consistent work and a good profile. Plus, by this time next year, I want an apartment with a hot tub. Yeah, that's right... hot tub.
I think maybe I can be one of those really sought after designers like Paul Rand. He designed logos for ABC, IBM and NeXT among all his big corporations. I just like the idea of being paid literally hundreds of dollars per hour to sit and think. I could go in the park, wander around and wonder if I should use circles or squares, serif or sans serif. This would all be great if my designs didn't suck ass. But I guess it's ok for now and not having any formal design education.
If I can support myself doing this, I can use the spare time to go on auditions for random things. When I return to Shanghai in August I'll be bringing a flugelhorn with me. Maybe I can get into a jazz band or something here. Then I won't actually have to speak chinese. I'm going to meet Coco Zhao Ke this weekend hopefully, who is a famous shanghainese jazz singer, also gay. Supposedly his stuff is good but I wouldn't know where to find his CD.
Regardless, I can't help but feel like such an idiot here. I was supposed to start my business 3 months ago. If I had, I would have plenty of money for a new place. I see all the material things that I want and kick myself in the butt just a little bit for not already having them.
And in regards to relationships, haven't found one worth talking about yet. I think it'll be a long time coming though. For now I'm happy with the occasional lay, which will hopefully come more often once I have my own place. I think it's about time that I really raised my standards for men. I've noticed that since I've arrived in Shanghai that I've been pretty good about that. Whoever this guy is... the one that I'm going to meet and know that I'll want to be with for a very long time, I'm sure he's on his way to Shanghai within the next 5 years. I'm thinking that he'll come for the jazz.
I've been working in front of the computer for several hours trying to get this contract graphic design business of mine going. Two weeks = two customers = $600 US = 2 mo. rent in Shanghai. But it's not enough. As good as it sounds right now, I can only live off the gap between the US dollar and Chinese RMB for so long. I need consistent work and a good profile. Plus, by this time next year, I want an apartment with a hot tub. Yeah, that's right... hot tub.
I think maybe I can be one of those really sought after designers like Paul Rand. He designed logos for ABC, IBM and NeXT among all his big corporations. I just like the idea of being paid literally hundreds of dollars per hour to sit and think. I could go in the park, wander around and wonder if I should use circles or squares, serif or sans serif. This would all be great if my designs didn't suck ass. But I guess it's ok for now and not having any formal design education.
If I can support myself doing this, I can use the spare time to go on auditions for random things. When I return to Shanghai in August I'll be bringing a flugelhorn with me. Maybe I can get into a jazz band or something here. Then I won't actually have to speak chinese. I'm going to meet Coco Zhao Ke this weekend hopefully, who is a famous shanghainese jazz singer, also gay. Supposedly his stuff is good but I wouldn't know where to find his CD.
Regardless, I can't help but feel like such an idiot here. I was supposed to start my business 3 months ago. If I had, I would have plenty of money for a new place. I see all the material things that I want and kick myself in the butt just a little bit for not already having them.
And in regards to relationships, haven't found one worth talking about yet. I think it'll be a long time coming though. For now I'm happy with the occasional lay, which will hopefully come more often once I have my own place. I think it's about time that I really raised my standards for men. I've noticed that since I've arrived in Shanghai that I've been pretty good about that. Whoever this guy is... the one that I'm going to meet and know that I'll want to be with for a very long time, I'm sure he's on his way to Shanghai within the next 5 years. I'm thinking that he'll come for the jazz.
6.04.2006
Let's get serious.
Standing outside of the ridiculously named Frangipani, he stands still as I pace in circles around him. Playfully, stand-off-ish... I question his motives. And then I tell him, "I'm nothing special". I lie, because I know I am. Looking into his eyes melts my heart, though. It's like looking into a mirror.
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