blue skies, broken hearts

"Sometimes we expect more from others because we would be willing to do that much for them."

I don't know where this quote originated from, but there are about 30,000 people liking it on Facebook currently.

We were sitting in my room a few weeks ago, having one of those conversations that would either be the end of us or would mend what had been broken. Thankfully, we're on the road toward mending, but she'd spoken of expectations, and how she'd learned not to expect things out of people. That way everything was under your own control, and I guess, you wouldn't blame others or resent others for when things didn't go as you'd thought they would. That way you'd hold yourself accountable. It makes sense.

I've always been a fairly good friend. Despite my faults. I'm the kind of person who'll wake up at 3 a.m. to help a drunk friend in the house, or pick you up from D.C., the kind of friend who'd pick you up from the airport so you wouldn't have to take public transportation, the kind of friend who'll try to bake you cookies even though they suck or listen to you cry over an ex-boyfriend time and time again. And so, I've always expected the same out of the people who I choose to be in my life, the people whom I proudly call my friends. And trust me, I choose them carefully. And I'm aware, we choose our friends, knowing what we're getting into, knowing how they are, what they're capable of, and the kind of friend they're able to be.

But it's still sad sometimes, really sad, when you realize, as much as you love them, you're just no longer okay with that much less than you'd give.

How Did it Feel

I thought about it. How would it feel. How would I feel. In a moment, you came to your senses, and you figured it out, that I wasn't right, and you decided, the one who was right, was someone else. So I thought about it. How would it feel. How would it feel. Even though, I'm aware you are not it. How would it feel. And I knew I couldn't do this. I've always known. I don't believe this works. The whole, friends with benefits. I knew I couldn't do it more than once without getting emotionally attached. I'd be fine. More fine than you, perhaps, if it were reversed. But, I never had the emotional capacity for this kind of thing. It was difficult before. To hurt someone, to be hurt, to get over. Ruins the idea of everything.

"Broke ass ballin"

We were talking today, just us girls around the dining room table. About guys and marriage. Somehow it seems to come up a lot lately, even though half of us still have never managed to keep that relationship thing.

We're Asian-American, our parents were refugees from Cambodia and Vietnam, after the war. They came here, made a life for themselves from the ground up, and have managed to provide a fairly comfortable standard of living for their children. And to their astonishment, we're now grown, pursuing dreams based on this pursuit of happiness and not necessarily on the worth of a dollar. Because they've provided us with this life, where we never really had to worry about money.

broken contracts

It's 2 a.m., and you're here. You've broken every rule you've made for me, he said.

Actually, I think that was your rule.

But I do make these rules, that I never seem to stick to. I don't really know what the point is, maybe it's just part of this game. This game we're always playing.

Just friends, huh.

I guess so.

Somehow, this is always how events transpire. No wonder I have no idea how to date. You're twenty-five kid, make the guy take you on a proper date, that's how it's supposed to be, that's how you know it'll turn into something worth anything, that's what convention says, and then I think, fuck it, I'm twenty-five, things are how they are, and I really can't sit around and have convention work itself out. I kind of just have to do what I want, even if it fucks me over (or vice versa). Why bother? Because I think, one of these days, one of these days, it'll work out.

I could be wrong, there's always room to be wrong.

on my religion

via @CodyBrown Just read David Foster Wallace's Comencement Speech. Holy. Shit. http://bit.ly/9CDgKv Thanks for the link @joecoscarelli @timsteno

"Of course the main requirement of speeches like this is that I'm supposed to talk about your liberal arts education's meaning, to try to explain why the degree you are about to receive has actual human value instead of just a material payoff. So let's talk about the single most pervasive cliché in the commencement speech genre, which is that a liberal arts education is not so much about filling you up with knowledge as it is about quote teaching you how to think....the really significant education in thinking that we're supposed to get in a place like this isn't really about the capacity to think, but rather about the choice of what to think about."

And here's to you.

The days are less than numbered now it feels. I was having a fit today, and to cheer me up, Caitlin, Leigh and Carol cut off pieces of their hair and gave them to me as a gift. haha. And oddly enough, it really cheered me up. It's been...a day.

Rest in peace Michael Jackson.

Who would've thought days like these would come more often.

It's not like we planned it

This photograph was taken 9 months ago. 9 months ago my life was nothing like it is now. I can say, I'm probably not the same. How could I be? I fell in love with this city. And in the process, I met strangers who have become family, and it hurts my heart to know I have to leave this life in 2 weeks time. Ah, but what else is new with me? At least that hasn't changed. I fall in love, and I have trouble letting go, and I hate leaving people. I really adore people. And in the past year, I traveled to Prague where even under the fall of snow the city was freezing, and we slid down 2 feet covered snowy mountains in search of a miniature museum that we never found, and I ended up throwing up outside a cab and on the side of a building as a result of losing in the game of "drink to drink & irish car bombs" with Paul, I attempted to smoke for the first time in Amsterdam while checking g-mail in the middle of it and finding out I had gotten on the short list for a fellowship, and the other day I smoked my first cigarette ever - I was that drunk. And I've never wanted to smoke cigarettes. My entire life I've complained to my father about his habits, to the point where he now automatically goes outside our house to do it. And, I think smoking that cigarette under my state of utter intoxication may have me thinking more 'damnit' than that time I lost my virginity. But, hey, at this point, I only get one life, so fuck it. And the men, oh the men. I'm tired of random hook ups. I really am. But I've been tired of it for awhile now I think. Ah.

So on the train ride home from Cinque terre last night.

Ilk: So what would you do, if you were going to die tomorrow? If you only had 24 hours. And you only had the resources you currently have.
Leigh: I would e-mail everyone I loved, tell them I'm dying, and they can drive the 4 hours to come see me. And I would get on a plane and go home.

Truth.

I realized, if I were to die tomorrow, there are people I have loved for years on the other side of this world. And despite how depressed I'm going to be when I leave Italia, the thing is, I still have a home elsewhere. And so, it'll be okay. This is life isn't it.