It was past 3 AM and they were on skype. He was speaking, but she felt the need to type her responses instead. For some strange reason, she always preferred it that way. "You would," he'd said. "But it's okay, I think it's cute." Offhanded comments, as if he knew her. I believe in you. He said things like that often. As if their relationship was based on a past, a past where he knew her, a past where he understood her, a past filled with endless late night conversations over nothing. They'd met in a basement bar, near close, in a hostel in Vienna a few months back. He'd been trying to hit on her friend, offered the friend a shot of tequila, but somehow the friend got caught up in a shaggy haired aspiring film maker from LA instead. So, by accident, they got lost in conversation, and she decided he was all right. All right for the evening, entertaining enough.

She came home, with dreams of Paris. A city she never cared for, but he was studying there. It was never a coincidence, nothing ever really is. An aspiring architect. She equated the occupation to that of a writer. Creator of things, makers of something out of nothing versus most ordinary occupations, imitators, a life's work of regurgitation, money makers. Nothing with weight is ever a coincidence, and assigning weight is our choice. "When are you visiting Paris? You should come," he'd said. But she had changed her mind. She got scared. These ideas were always fun to toy with. To get lost in. It's funny how the state of intoxication allows people to dream and hope to live with reckless abandon, but in the light of the morning, we all retreat back into our ordinary shells, for fear, of everything. Their conversations operated with a sense of depth on the surface, but underneath it all, she knew she didn't feel it. She couldn't feel it.

"I think your writing style is quite sad but maintains such honesty that it doesn't read as pathetic."

It's almost ironic. It makes me laugh out loud, literally. I never say that unless it actually happens, never understood people that did. No, you can't laugh out loud inside. No.

I hate it when I take a nap and wake up feeling like rip van fucking winkle because things have happened while I was asleep. This is why I sometimes find sleep bothersome, because inevitably you miss out on things.

So I was thinking, aside from the fact that even while living among people, constantly surrounded by people, you can perhaps go by weeks at a time without any human touch. It's kind of a weird concept isn't it? People who didn't have a lot of friends, a lot of human connections used to make me sad because I hate seeing people lonely. But in a recent conversation with Caitlin, when she mentioned she didn't like being touched really, it actually made me think of when the last time I had physical human contact, beyond a handshake. or even that. You know? I mean, shit like this has got to effect you somehow, when you don't even really think of it because you're constantly surrounded by people. And we place so much emphasis sometimes on the extreme physical, sex and what not, that no one ever really talks about when the last time you hugged someone was or just slept next to someone. I think that's what I'm missing these days.

I was thinking living in the palazzo is kind of like the Lord of the Flies. If this program didn't end at the end of June, someone would probably end up dead on a stick. With my friends at home, even my closest ones, there are things about everyone that will bother me. That's normal, but it's just in this situation where we're constantly around each other, these little bothersome things that in ordinary life wouldn't matter so much, become more than they are, seem to matter more than they should, and it's just this snow ball effect where it seems to just consume. At this point, I really hope they don't ruin some of the more than decent foundations upon which they have been built. Because that would just be a waste. But we all have a choice in this matter, don't we?

YOUR LIFE HAS ALWAYS AND WILL ALWAYS BE YOUR CHOICE.

dreamers

Dialogues between friends. Momentary ruminations. I always had a soft spot for frank candidness.

5:28 AM: move in with me
5:28 AM: it's mutually beneficial
5:28 AM: we would both have a blast!


3:02:32 AM: there is alot of cool stuff i wanna show you
3:02:56 AM: like little bars and restaurants
3:03:11 AM: wanna go to the beach
3:03:18 AM: va beach is only 1hr and 30 minutes away
3:03:32 AM: just me and you
3:03:44 AM: lets do that for a weekend
3:06:02 AM: we should make a date
3:06:25 AM: i usually dont plan ahead
3:06:30 AM: but i kinda want to for this
3:07:47 AM: im marking it on my icalender
3:08:04 AM: "romantic getaway

3:08:16 AM Kim Ha: ew
3:08:18 AM Kim Ha: don't make me puke
3:08:21 AM Kim Ha: dont call it that
3:08:22 AM Kim Ha: hahah

3:08:25 AM: HAHAHA
3:08:49 AM: "lovers retreat"

3:08:56 AM Kim Ha: ew.
3:08:57 AM Kim Ha: no

I got you for another year.

Real life decisions.


This is one of those nights when I miss everyone and everything that was, that is, that could have been.

And to be honest, I have no idea why I'm going to American next year. Aside from not wanting to find a job, not wanting to face disappointment, not wanting to put out the effort. I can't give you one real reason.

You know what kind of amazes me? People who can write complete fantasy novels well.

Life as I know it.

Californication.

I have trouble writing here sometimes because it doesn't feel so personal. Sometimes I spend more time worrying about the lay out, the font size, the main photograph, then I do about the diction and syntax.

Sometimes I miss when it was just the spiral notebook with pasted photographs, the bic pen. Ink to paper. The only issue I had then was how the specific pen felt on the specific paper. At the cost of less than $0.50 at Walmart. And that was all I needed.


Now I'm attached to Mac and the Internet like I'm a coke addict.

I was flipping through photographs last night on facebook. And I was surprised at how big he's gotten. He's almost two now I guess. For some reason I thought he was still younger. And then I just started to feel old, and you'd said.

"yeah i still remember running around your house as lil girls.. where has the time gone?"

And I remember those days as if they were yesterday, and I remember how my parents, particularly my mom and your mom would sit at the kitchen table and talk as we'd run around the house. I remember they'd always say things like, they grow up so fast don't they.


------

so when did we become strangers?

and when did he decide he knew me at all?


and how come, this may all be just okay.

I became obsessed with Maroon 5 in April of 2003, after I got back from Spring break senior year of high school. Christine was obsessed so she burned me a copy of their CD and made me give them a second try. So I listened to "She Will Be Loved" and had the CD on repeat for months, years after.

We've taken over the TV room in light of the semi-work we have to do the rest of the year. Cait, Leigh, Ilk, Carol and I mostly with Paul coming in from time to time when he eats and Matt from time to time to make random comments from the doorway.

We started The Wrestler again and The Reader & Marisa Tomei is hot, especially for a 40 year old. The annoying thing is, we've watched parts of these movies and they're so effing good, but they're on a usb and connected to our dvd player and part way through they started skipping and crap, so we gave up. Now I have to figure out how to finish all these movies I've half started.

Marvin (the penis) is growing.

What has my life come to these days?

I was on skype with my mom today, and she was telling me about my parents' trip to Vietnam and how proud my dad was of me. He talks a lot, I think he's a good bullshitter, and he's a proud man. He was telling the family about me, about how smart I was, about everything I was doing, and he exaggerated a lot. But mostly, it made me want to cry. Because this man that I've known and loved for most of my life, my dad, often makes me wish I never had the memories of another father. Makes me wish it was all a dream I somehow confused with truth. He's the complete opposite of my mother. She's always been the calculative one, paranoid, controlling, slightly uptight. My father though is often unselfishly kind to others, generous especially with money, and a hardworker. He'd always say, when he got older, all he needed was some friends, some beer, a pool table and his guitar.

I always hoped some of these things had rubbed off on me.

Currently the most eventful thing about my life is probably the mushy penis we have growing in a too large pot of water in the kitchen. He started out as about an inch long, but now he's a good 4 inches long and pretty decent girth. And it's only been 24 hours! Apparently he takes 72 hours to grow to full size. Will have before and after photographs later.


Today's movie listings

The Unbearable Lightness of Being
American Psycho
Wrestlers, which we started but stopped 15 minutes in because it was too depressing
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
The Interpreter


I should really add on the minor of film watching to my M.A.

How much is too much information these days? I'm really wondering because I mean, I know my blog is used at my own discretion. I've always written whatever the hell I wanted to write, which was often too much information for some. But a lot of people do that, I feel. It's easier because half the time you don't think anyone's ever going to read it anyway, and even if people do, you don't see their reactions. So it's kind of like having a space to confide in. But lately I find people who I'm merely acquainted with revealing semi to pretty much once upon a time personal information to me through the internet. Mostly of the facebook variety. Messages, chats. It's kind of weird. I mean I don't mind, it just surprises me that people, in entirely sober circumstances would tell me these details about their lovers or parents. As part of normal everyday conversation. Hmmm, so are we becoming a more open society? Or am I just easy to talk to? Or am I closer to these people than I had thought?

Gee Brain, what are we going to do tonight?
The same thing we do every night Pinky. Try to take over the world.


So a number of people I know lately have met people over Match.com. Really weird huh? My friends who are my age, far from desperate are meeting significant others through an internet dating site. Oddly enough, my one friend, the girl he met, they went to the same undergrad, but never knew each other. So anyway, after he told me that, I decided to go see what it was about, and made a profile. But they asked too many questions, and I didn't have the patience. I half assed it and then upon looking at the selection of men they had, deleted my profile. I hope it's deleted anyway. Damn. I think I'm going to stick to real life for now.

Matt as he's mushing avocados with his hands for guacamole he sniffs his hands: "This smells like splooge"
well something to that effect, I forget his actual words
I responded, "Maybe it's your hands."

Though I didn't mean to be funny at all, but I got a point in our sparing game of life.

And I just heard Ilk throw up in the bathroom. Our walls are PAPER, PAPER I TELL YOU.

And I just had a conversation with a dood born in 1989. We had an 80's party tonight. I remember the 80's. He was a pea. But he's 20. Hmm, guess it just reflects how old I'm really getting.

And speaking of. Young.



I had this uploaded and then I kept looking at it because I realized how young I looked. This was taken today though, at twenty-four years, I look like I could be in High School.

And Steven confirmed my suspicions.

myfavwpn: man
i cant look at this picture anymore
i feel like a perv
xing out right now

Anyway, tonight was one of the most awkward nights I've had in a long long time. But hey, life, can't win, can't lose.


xoxo _people have been signing shit like that to me a lot lately_

Cominciando un altro semestre in mio caffè favorito a Firenze: La Cite.



Funny where inspiration comes from ;]

Though, I will probably hate these songs by next week because of my tendency for the repeat button.

I was at the corner place (this place with paninis, etc in Santo Spirito where I live) this afternoon getting a pizza and they were playing Had a Bad Day and it made me miss being home in the spring with my sun roof open driving through the city. And lately I find myself missing Dubai and with this new obsession with the Middle East. I want to see Damascus and Beirut and Israel and Palestine and India and I want to know what it's like to live there, just for a little while. Though that may never happen. I still haven't even gotten my ass to Istanbul or Kuala Lumpur, Saigon, Beijing, Bangkok, Hong Kong and the list goes on.

I always have my IPod on when we land or take off, it relieves my nerves, though I know I'm not supposed to have it on because my IPod could cause the plane to crash, but I did it once by accident, so now I don't really care since I survived. Since September I've been on 25 flights, countless trains, through 3 continents and roughly 12 cities. I realized my chances of dying by plane crash is probably far higher than the average persons, but then I think about flight attendants and their stats and it makes me feel a bit better.

And today, while I was in the corner place and this American song came on I found myself thinking of how much I missed home, but how much I would miss Florence all at once, and how strikingly different these places were. I could never have both for life. It's funny how I love Florence for the vegetable people in the square in the mornings, the strictly Italian food, walking to bars and walking home over the River Arno, piazza della Republica and for everything that it lacks, it offers a world which can't be found at home. And then I find myself missing the diverse culture, my honda accord, the people I've loved for years and walking to Starbucks in the middle of a sweltering summer, getting dressed up in 4 inch heels to the bars in Adams Morgan and Georgetown. Life here is so much simpler. I can't have both, and I will choose the world I grew up in, but god, I will miss the time that I have spent here dearly.

I got on the short list for fellowships with BNA and USAToday a few weeks ago. I didn't end up getting either, which wasn't entirely a surprise to me. I've never been good at interviews. Public speaking, articulation, confidence, I've always had trouble with these things. But I was thinking about it, and it's probably for the best I didn't get them because when they asked me what I wanted out of it all, I wasn't entirely honest. I said I wanted to be a journalist, to cover Capitol Hill, to cover the EU in Brussels. And though my resume may be conducive to all these things, at the end of the day, I'd be incredibly happy with my own column in the lifestyle section of some newspaper in some city I adored. And that would be enough for me. I think. But I never give that answer because I'm afraid it sounds superficial, not important enough. But who knows, with my dreams of traveling through the Middle East and Asia still need to be taken care of, I have to find a route to accomplish those things somehow.

I'm twenty-four and a half years old. I have never had a 'real' job.

I thank my parents every single day for everything that they've given me to delay the real world for as long as I have, to figure out what I want. They've given me everything they never had the chance to attain, and I owe them a lot for that.

ATMs spitting 2500 dirhams

April 15 - 22, 2009
Dubai, United Arab Emirates

While we were in Dubai, we met this DJ at Chi@theLodge and we went out the next night to Zinc at the Crowne Hotel where he was djing. It's funny, while we were at Chi, surrounded by weirdos, I had said to Carol, I wish he could DJ at my wedding. And then somehow this stranger became our friend. At Zinc there was Karyl, a filipino from Sweden. Who knew? She had been living in Dubai for over a year, as a flight attendant. There are a lot of flight attendants in the city, I noticed. And there was Ayesha and her boyfriend, the music producer. They were probably one of the cutest couples I had seen in awhile. And there was Khalid, whose glasses I adored, whose name I've taken to. And a slew of other kind people. It's weird. The city was filled with either straight up creepers or really hospitable people. Far nicer than I would be at home to strangers I had just met.

Speaking of creepers, two of the men who'd approached us at Chi were Lebanese, living and working in Dubai. They preferred home, but anyway they looked like Ben Stiller from Zoolander. In dark skinny jeans, blazer and black dress shirt unbuttoned half way. Stiller #2 was more exaggerated with eyeliner top and bottom, ears out to who knows where, and both had really spiked up hair. While the first dood was talking to us, his friend was in the corner, trying to drink the foam off his newly bought heineken before dropping some crushed substance in it. Incredibly bizarre. He shook our hands after and I could feel the remnants.

But anyway, after Zinc we went out to eat with DJ Dany and his friends, and being around the careless banter of people who are comfortable around each other made me miss my friends back home.

And like Dee had said. She'd moved from London to Dubai and had been living there for 5 years. She missed the city and didn't prefer this place, but she'd said, if you meet the right people then it's alright. And I could see that it was. And I knew then, I could probably live anywhere if I had friendships like that wherever I was.

We all gotta make a home somewhere.

oh, oh, oh, here we go. Round #2.

American University Class of 2010.

I think when people get Masters degrees they should be called Master So and So. Like Doctor so and so. Master Ha. No?

Matters of the heart

The past two years I've lived my life on this idea of oh fuck it, I'm only young once, I can have my fun just like everyone else seems to be able to. That coupled with my inability for self-control, and there were days when I feared I was becoming some sort of slut. I try not to judge others for this reason because I mean, as long as you can handle it, then why not live your life however the hell you want to? But anyway, in my case, I've learned that I cannot handle it, and at this point it's not really getting me anywhere. I can't just have fun because emotional attachments sometimes develop even if they weren't there before, or it's vice versa which makes me feel like shit as well. So this method I've chosen the past two years, clearly isn't working and it isn't healthy for my emotional capacity. So I've decided a change. No hooking up with men, random or not unless it's going to go somewhere. I've never been the girl to sit around and wait for a guy. If I like someone, I tell them, I can't help it because I always think, what do I have to lose? Nothing really, and I'm used to embarrasing myself. And I've always hated the idea of sitting around and waiting for some guy to ask you out because the only guys that ever seem to approach me are ones who I have absolutely no interest in. But anyway, my method of going after men have done nothing for me up to this point, so I'm going to try this self-control & restraint method. It's going pretty well right now, but then again, I have no interest in anyone currently.

We'll see how this goes. This sitting around waiting for a man. The idea makes me sick. But oh well.

April 19, 2009

Safari through the desert in the United Arab Emirates. My life is fucking cool. I've never had so many people be jealous of my life before, and will probably never again. It's kind of weird. I'm living it for all it's worth.

Halfway through this ride though my motion sickness kicked in and I had to regurgitate into a bag. I hadn't had much to eat so it was just me gagging out liquid, gross. But it was still pretty damn amazing.

I graduated from JMU 2 years ago and now this random ass photograph has decided to pop up on the home page. I don't like the picture, but hey it's kind of cool. Anyway, thanks JMU, you've given me a lot to be thankful for, even until now. From Newman Lake to sledding down ISAT hill to peruvian chicken to Thursday's at Highlawn to figuring myself out to studying abroad in London and to this life in Firenze.

town by the sea

April 12, 2009

Brighton, United Kingdom

missing the big big sky

I'm writing this at 5:07 AM from my hotel lobby in Dubai, UAE. I fell asleep around midnight and woke up around 1:30 AM and haven't been able to fall back asleep. I've had a lot of time to think the past week, without school getting in the way. Perhaps too much time, I'm not sure. People are already awake getting the hotel up and running. It's kind of insane. I'm glad I don't have to wake up at 5 AM to do work.

So we landed on Wednesday, and I'm not sure I've taken to this city. I guess that's bound to happen sometimes. It's just perhaps because of some combination of smog, the sky is not clear here. Rather, almost non existent. I'm actually not sure I've seen it. And it's making me feel eerily claustrophobic. Funny the things we take for granted.

I was laying in bed with all these thoughts running through my mind. American University, USA TODAY, how come not talking to you is easier than talking to you, but now I kind of just want to talk to you again because you're home and I'm missing that now, but I realized I can't keep pulling that switch on you, or on myself, and I find myself missing New York City lately, but that's ironic considering I've never even really taken to that city, and ever since I left Firenze last week, I've found myself missing it incredibly because the inevitability of leaving so soon is really getting to me, and months ago when I first arrived I remember laying in bed trying to calm myself down, wondering what the hell I got myself into for a year of my life with these strangers, who have now become like some dysfunctional sort of family who I adore all at once, and this city that was strange and annoying and lacking, I've now fallen in love with somehow, somewhere, when I wasn't even paying attention, well I guess you can learn to fall in love, maybe that's how love works sometimes. But today I'm missing everything that is real, the big blue sky, and the people I've loved for years, months, weeks.

I wondered how come I always have to miss everything and everyone, but then if I didn't, that would mean I didn't enoy the people or experiences, so I guess I've lead one lucky life, and on the plane ride here, I thought my life was too good. You ever get that feeling? Like everything is just too good, it's almost scary. And it is terrifying, to have almost everything I've ever wanted and have life work out this way.

As for this city, at first sight it seems to be a replica of everything that is, the West self-imposed in the Middle East. But hey, I guess I can't judge too quickly because we all make a home somewhere, and there's goodness everywhere. The ATM did spit an extra $600 at me for no reason.

Rough draft.

I hadn't seen you in months. The last time I had been back to visit after graduation, I hadn't had the time to drop by. Rather, it was too much trouble for me. Now it was Spring. Almost a year after we had donned that cap and gown, done the whole dance, and received that diploma that was supposed to have meant something. We were grown up. At least, that's what we were told. But hell, somehow it didn't feel that much different.

"You got a boyfriend or anything these days?" He asked sitting down on the sidewalk beside me, his bottle clinking against the pavement.
"No. I've been hanging out with this guy, but he's kinda intolerable," I said. "Kind of reminds me of you actually."
"Cause I'm intolerable?"
"Nah. Cause he's kind of depressing, and sort of an asshole. I don't even know why I'm hanging out with him actually. He's got this self-deprecating thing going on."
"I see the resemblance already," he said wryly. "So why are you hanging out with this kid?"
"It's actually kind of depressing," I admitted. "I'm not sure why I'm hanging out with him. He's never going to matter. Maybe that's why."
"What's sad is I remind you of an asshole."
I laughed. "You know that's not what I meant. You're gonna end up breaking that bottle."
"Don't worry. I got it. I'm not that drunk yet," he replied. "So what's with you and assholes?"
"What do you mean?"
"That one night you came over, and you were crying over that frat boy."

"Why are you here?" he had asked me.
I couldn't answer then because I couldn't understand why he was asking me this question.
"Because I didn't have anywhere else to go." It was a lame reply.
"That's not true," he'd said, shaking his head.
And it wasn't.

"God I miss this place sometimes," I said.




I borrowed this CD from your car a few years ago, and of course I still have it...somewhere. You'd dropped me off at my apartment after class, and it had been one of those hot, completely beautiful spring days.

Subject: Invisible nutcase #1

This is a quiet night outside our palazzo in Santo Spirito. I tried to find the woman singing, but I could not locate her. I think she was hiding from me. She's been out there singing like she's in an opera the past few nights, usually around 3 AM though. She had an early show tonight.

30 hours and counting

On 12 days of misery, the last round of European Union cohesion policy and future enlargement with the accession of Croatia, the former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia and (of course) Turkey.

Watch 22 dvds and several seasons of Felicity and Friends, check
Sit through tremors of an earthquake, check
Sleep through hobos and crackhead italians singing in falsetto at 3am, check
Eat 2 boxes of heart cookies, check
Play tricks, check
Procrastinate on Facebook, check
Laugh a lot, check
Shower, check
Mac, check
Trek to the European University Institute, check
Have lunch, check
Cappuccino, check
Water, check
Brain music

check.

7,000 words away from happy time

After College

It is not a question of possibility, but rather.... How badly do you want it? What are you willing to give up for it? Because you see, your life has always been your choice.

A 6.3 magnitude Earthquake occurred in L'Aquila at 3:32 AM
L'Aquila is 363 km from Firenze - 225 miles

Prior at around 10:20 PM a 4.6 magnitude earthquake had occurred outside of Bologna.

Me, Leigh and Caitlin were doing work in the TV room when Leigh started banging on the wall adjacent to the kitchen because she thought someone was stomping around. Minor tremors reached Firenze, and of course sitting next to them, I didn't feel anything.

I wish I were a balla

So Italy is not a diverse country, in terms of food and ethnic diversity. In fact, I miss peruvian chicken and pho so bad all the time, especially on morning afters.

But anyway, the only 'Black' guys we ever see around here are North African. And they come into the pubs, get in our face, literally, and try to sell us things like ripped dvds, roses and sometimes tissues. So as me, Leigh and Ilk were walking home from the bus stop by the Duomo yesterday through Piazza della Republica we walk by these 4 black guys. And one of them points to the piazza and goes:

"What you wanna do?"
"Do you wanna be a balla?"
"A shot calla?"

Haha. They were AMERICAN!!! And they are probably the first African Americans I've ever come across while traveling abroad. Anyway, I forgot how much I missed African American men. And now I wish we had a token black guy in the house.


Matt: agreed. i wish we had a token black dude in the house
Matt: they would be funny
Matt: and they'd do the kim voice with me
Matt: and we would act out kim'isms
Matt: and then he'd be like shit son
Kim Ha: just cause you're tall, doesn't mean he'd be your bff
Matt: and we'd fist pound
Matt: yeah huh
Matt: if your skin is brown you respect people who are tall
Matt: thats the way it works

And I guess it would give Matt a little man friend he seems to be missing.

La vita e bella

The sunset over Firenze from the European University Institute in Fiesole. I still have trouble believing this is my life. I can't wait until summer, driving through Tuscany. First, must figure out how to rent a car.
On the way to the EUI we noticed this new plaque on the ledge of our bridge prohibiting climbing or sitting on the triangular shaped ledges which you can climb over onto. It's kind of dangerous since you could fall into the Arno since there are no barriers, but I was kind of sad they put up that sign. Because this means, no more possibility for peeing into the Arno, or writing postcards sitting against the bridge. As me and Leigh were commenting about it this old man stopped by us and saw we spoke English and he started ranting about teenagers, mostly American students who graffiti the bridges and climb over the edges for late night parties.
"Write things like I love Giovanni. Where is Giovanni? I want to find Giovanni and throw him into the Arno!" As he continuosly spits on Leigh. "Two years ago these American students had parties on the ledge and one fell in. Well, they didn't fish him out until two days later and he drowned. I'm glad he drowned!" omg. It would not be a day in Firenze without running into some kind of weirdo. That's the one sure thing about this city, aside from it's beauty, it's filled with nutcases. Mind you it's 70 degrees out.


I recently moved my desk to the middle of my room. Sometimes Caitlin or Ilk or basically randoms will come into my room and entertain me. I feel kind of like it's my office, like I'm a psychologist or something.

Childs Play

On writing thousands of useless words which will probably never amount to anything.

Leigh: "I need a drink, drink until I can't feel feelings."

The Streets of Philadelphia.

She said you left them. She said you're still making the same mistakes, the same ones that made her leave you all those years ago. But she's always had a habit of lying to me. Telling me things she thinks I'd rather hear. And this time I hope she's lying. I hope she's lying because wherever you are today, I hope you are happy. I really hope you are happy and have learned from your mistakes and have people who love you and children who have grown up to adore you. I really hope so.


We made something out of nothing. We made a mess of this place, and now there's nowhere to go. To everything that is, and to everything that will never be.

Validation

I applied on a whim without believing I was anywhere near qualified. And now that I'm so close, I find myself wanting it pretty badly.

As if this will never end.

I have 14,000 words to write by hopefully the end of next Wednesday. Ambitious is the word. And Firenze is making it painstakingly difficult because of this gorgeous spring weather we've been having. It's weird, the Florentines are still wearing massive coats and scarves, and we've already packed our sweaters away. Allison wanted to go on a walk today, so me and Leigh went to Esselunga, the 'biggest' grocery store around us. And our conversation consisted mostly of our "crazy psycho bitch" moments, and it suddenly occurred to me that I kind of have to give men a little credit for dealing with it. Cause we're all like this when we really like a guy and he's not entirely into us and then we get insecure and sometimes drunk and that just makes the normal pent up crazy come out. This perpetual cycle. Intoxicated nights, over reactions, aim conversations, useless arguments and all the while the guy pretty much has no idea why we've defriended them and say things like "get the fuck out of my life, I never want to see you again." And in the sober light of the next morning, all we can really say is fuck my life and apologize because the truth is, we said those things because we have feelings for them and we're upset and frustrated.

So sometimes it starts like this. You guys are friends, and you hang out all the time. And then one day things escalate. And then they continue. And then you get attached and insecure, and when he doesn't call one day, you freak out and wonder "why hasn't he called me?" To which you never would've cared before. And of course you can't tell the guy any of these thoughts because you guys aren't dating. To which he will point out when you do freak out on him. And it never occurs to the guy that any signals were mixed because as Leigh's male friend summed up.

"We live our life by the day. We do what we want on that day. And if a guy is really into you, then he will show you that every day."

Otherwise, he's just not that into you.

And it's a bit tragic and entirely confusing and complicated because even though we are aware of this truth, we can't help reacting the way we do anyway.

But hey, at least we live in Firenze and get to see the world for a bit.

Since when did cancer decide it had the authority to take everyone's life?

I heard the news today

I can’t really believe a part of me still wishes things had worked out. How badly I had wanted it to work out. How badly it did not work out. How awful it all was for you, for me. On paper, you would've been it. Everything my parents had always hassled me about. The one in medicine, the one who would take care of me, the one who would get on a plane to come see me-a girl he barely knew. But then I remember how little you really knew me, and how I would never be the image of the girl you had in your mind. And I know, I did what I had to do.

It has always been weird to me, to make something out of nothing. To meet someone and decide you’d like them to be a part of your life. And then they start to gain weight in the story. Late night conversations, banter, your tongue in my mouth, my hand in yours. And then events transpire. And for some reason, sometimes, we make the decision not to have them in our life anymore. And at the end, I always wondered-How did I get here? At what point was the only acceptable solution distance and silence.

The Adventures of Matt and Kim

Damn. I only wish my adventures were this much fun.

Happy overdoses circa the 80's

Shit like this warms my heart.

DG DEV: It rubs the lotion on its skin

It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again.

So I've never seen Silence of the Lambs but back in January when our DG group was up until 10 a.m. Matthew decided to show me this video somewhere around 3 a.m. And it's the most amazing thing I've ever seen to date. It's just so funny, so smartly done. I've been obsessed ever since.

Reality Bites.

In light of the massive amount of work I have to do this week, I've been overdosing on movies because they make me more productive.

Food Mart. My favorite shot.

1981 fashion at its finest.

A flannel for my face?

Rainy Sundays.

The time changed last night, and we lost an hour. I fell asleep at 5 a.m. and woke up at 6 a.m. in a massive sweat. I don't know why, and I can't recall how my dreams went.

I have these massive papers to write, and a week and a half to do them.

To be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about you, since currently I feel nothing but perhaps frustration. But the thing is, the thought of starting conversation with you again is exhausting to me. And I guess it's really as simple as that. I don't have any interest in adding any more weight to my life at present time. And maybe that makes me a bitch. Maybe that makes me complicated in this attempt to uncomplicate my life. But it is what it is, isn't it?

Patterns of consistency in the inconsistent

I have stopped talking to a number of men over the course of my twenty-four years. I've stopped talking to these men because I decided I had feelings for them and then things got complicated between us. Sometimes they were assholes, sometimes they weren't, but either way, I usually decided I didn't have the emotional capacity to have them in my life anymore. So I cut all ties, and they usually left me alone, but then a few months would pass and it never fails. I'm just astonished by this.

Are all men like this? It will hit the 3-6 month mark of when I threw them out of my life and they come back with the EXACT SAME LINE. "I miss talking to you."

Is there some manual that teaches men these opening lines? Is this what happens in locker rooms?

Without fail, every single time. I'm bewildered. Am I that good of a conversationalist? And by this time they think it's okay to approach me with this because they think I should've gotten over whatever complications I had by then.

For the life of me, I don't understand why men do this. When a guy stops talking to me, even when we're good friends, I generally leave him alone. Because there was an obvious reason for him to do that. Even if I miss him, I leave him alone. Because I understand he needs space.

I mean, I guess it's nice to know a man still wants to talk to me after I pull the crazy psycho asshole gig on him. So, I don't know, maybe I should feel glad? I'm just perplexed that they never seem to understand where I'm coming from. I stopped talking to them for a reason. I understand they miss talking to me, but when they ask this of me, it seems a bit selfish on their part. It's like dood, just leave me alone. When I'm ready, I will talk to you again if I choose.

Am I unreasonable? I do not understand, and I'm just frustrated. Your lack of understanding trivializes everything, and that really kind of makes me feel foolish. As if I have no basis for feeling the way I do.

And it took forever to reach

Over a year ago, I stepped into the USATODAY building in Mclean, Virginia for the first time to take an exam for my application to Columbia’s Journalism school. I’d never been to or seen the building before, and I remember loving the large glass window panes, the architectural style of the whole structure. And I wondered, if one day I could somehow work here, that’d be pretty sweet. But it was a long shot, one of those muses where you never actually think will come to be in reality.

I didn’t get accepted into Columbia last year, so I bought a one-way ticket to Florence, Italy to pursue a one year masters program in European Union Policy. Solely to leave home and live a year abroad. Three years ago, while spending a summer in London studying, living abroad an entire year became a life goal. And now it’s almost done. making my random muses into reality has really come to fore lately. I remember sophomore year of college, Ben first told me about the UAE and how they had all these ridiculous man made islands. And I thought in passing, how wonderful it would be to see one day. And in three weeks I will be in Dubai. And I never really thought I would make any of these muses real. But here I am, checking off my life to do list as if they were items on a grocery list.

Leaving undergrad behind, I was ready because for once I wasn’t binded within institutional confines. The world was mine-I could do whatever I chose with my time, my life. And here I am. Two years pass, and I’m just that close to making everything I’ve ever wanted a reality.

Food, Fountains, Lions, Smashing Pumpkins and Procrastination

Last Monday, after Michele's class when we realized we were pretty much fucked for the semester, me, Leigh and Ilk decided to go get a drink to release our stress. Btw, graduate school has definitely lead me to drink more, and it's mostly due to the fact that I'm constantly stressed. As we were walking down the stairs out of the palazzo.

Someone: We have so much work to do and we're going to drink.
Kim: Whatever, we're fucked anyway.
Leigh: We're already fucked so we might as well keep fucking ourselves

Our professor appears behind us as we open the front door. Smiles awkwardly and walks in the opposite direction, even though he was headed to the bus stop which was in our direction.

But anywho, Monday nights at the Lions Fountain. They accept American dollars and for every beer you buy, you also get a free shot. We met Dan, this random New Yorker who'd just come from Lebanon. And later there was Alex from San Diego at the bar. Who I mentioned after I returned to our table, and Alex happened to have been Dan's random drinking partner all week. So Alex came over, he wore converses and his jeans were fine, so we accepted him. We all happened to be political science majors. Weird.

Of course then, he gets on a rant about the Smashing Pumpkins and why he couldn't understand why Leigh didn't care for them. Personally I've always enjoyed the music at this bar. But anyway, Leigh later determined his converses were too clean and the knots on his shoelaces were all wrong. Needless to say, he has not been Facebook friended.




Smashing Pumpkins. 1979.


Speaking of Lions.

We were on a class trip to Brussels 03.09.09 - 03.13.09. Ilk, our lone Iranian, wanted to take us to this authentic Middle Eastern tea house. We were the only ones in the establishment and the woman had long black hair with a mole-ish face looked like she could've tortured us slowly. There were three teas listed on the menu. Um, and this lovely one was Lipton tea from none other than Food Lion.

Needless to say, Ilk was not too happy with the events which ensued. Ah, but alas, it's moments like these which make life any fun.

Moments unforgettable.

Another Episode of Matt and Kim

Lately we all play this game where we ask each other how much would it cost for us to do this or that activity.

And this came up at the most opportune time. We finally figured out Matt's asking price.

On having his credit card fucked by Greece.
Matt: I'd rather get fucked in the butt.
Kim: So your asking price is 899 euro?
Matt: Yes. Actually yes.


And on the complexities of ethnicity.

Matt: Aren't you white by injection? Because you only bang white guys?


False, but well played. Well played.

Point Count: Matt 6, Kim 5.

On self-worth

“What? Which one am i?”
“The one that pushes guys away,” she’d said.
“When they get close.”
“Duh.”

Ironic, considering the chain of last nights conversation with you.

“What is your problem?” You had asked.
“Er, I don’t really have a problem.”

And I was annoyed you never seemed to take a moment for me.

“I’m really bad at getting back to people,” you’d said.

I proceeded on a self-deprecating rant on how it didn’t matter to me whether I mattered to you or not.

“Are you done?” And you'd said it as if it were a statement. You'd waited patiently for me to finish.

“Why does everything have to be so complicated with you.”
“You can’t push me away.”

And how do you seem to know me so well, when you really shouldn’t know me at all.

La dolce vita

It’s that time again. I have 3 months and less than 2 weeks left in this beautiful city. It’s weird. I was taking a walk across the arno, somewhere, recently, when it suddenly occurred to me how much I’m going to miss living here. It suddenly dawned on me that this place has become home. After long weeks away traveling, I find the only place I want to be is in my bed in my bedroom, here.

And of course, I’m always prematurely sad by the thought of leaving anywhere I’ve grown accustomed to. The time has come again. We were sitting outside the Old Stove, this bar, actually this bar that we had discovered when we had first arrived in the city over six months ago. We never go there anymore because we’ve discovered other places, but somehow on this Wednesday, after an entire day in the Palazzo Vecchio successful completing an EU simulation, we ended up there. The weather was almost as warm as it had been when we arrived last summer, and I thought, it’s going to be so weird when I’m sitting in some other bar on the other side in a few months. And how much I’m going to yearn for this city, these people. Because regardless of everything we have been through-at each other’s throats, driving one another crazy-they’re pretty much my family by now. When this ride we’re on ends, after we part, even if I never cross paths with some of them again, we had this time-now, here. And fuck, it was one amazing ride.

As I’m writing this, my future’s being decided. Do I deserve this fellowship? I don’t know. Compared to the people currently in the running, I’m probably grossly underqualified. But then again, I always suffer from underestimation and lack of assertiveness. Mental note: must work on that.

But if I got it, well. I can’t believe I was even considered, so it was an honor sir, nonetheless.

From an attic hostel in Praha

It’s snowing in Prague. The city from the Charles Bridge looks like some Disney fairy tale. I was in Piazza San Marco last week and I really can’t believe this is my life.

I’ve lost track of the days, I wondered last night, in the middle of all of this, when was the last time I was happy. The last time I laughed until my stomach hurt. Conversation without strained sentences, without forced smiles, forced regard. Without having to watch the cracks in the distance. I’ve been missing home since I left and it’s only been a little over a month. I’m not sure my heart is here right now. And it’s ridiculous because this city is so beautiful, it could bring you to tears. But I’m not sure my heart is here. And I will probably never return.

I was having a hazlenut latte for the first time in awhile. It reminded me of home-of getting off the metro at Farrugut West at 9 a.m. and stopping by Starbucks on K st on one of those endless sunny mornings where the air is crisp. And I miss it terribly. I do.

Venice, Italy

"We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be." - Kurt Vonnegut

Epic snowstorms in our fair London

The biggest ‘snowstorm’ in 18 years rendered the city useless. Transportation lines came to a halt, airports shut down leaving travelers stranded, shops in central London closed down because workers could not make the commute. Missing class and life in Florence while stuck in London-priceless.

London, United Kingdom

You don't know me that well.

I'm leaving in three days and my life somehow just got a bit more complicated. Of my own volition. But I guess, once I get on that plane, whatever complications currently exist will cease to. Won't they?

I was wondering, in this process of getting to know you again, if my curiosity arose from the fact of who you are today, of who I'm knowing, or if I'm mixing it all up in whoever I knew, whoever you knew, when we were younger. Cause let's face it, neither of us could possibly be the same people now. But it's often hard to separate the past and the present, especially in events which never were.

So, i think, it's been brought to my attention from several cases, that I have an issue with communication what I feel. And it's weird, cause I never really thought of myself as someone who had issues with communicating that, but it's been brought up more than once now, so maybe I do?

I'm twenty-four, and I'm not getting any younger, but that's really only made me pickier. And honestly, I really don't think it's because I don't know what I want. I think it's because I know exactly what I want. For the long run. And I'm basically incapable of taking anything less. Even if emotional attachments do arise to some degree.

"You ever wonder if, the idea of settling may not actually be settling at all. But maybe it is what it is?"
"Maybe. I mean you wouldn't actually be settling unless you actually thought you were. If you don't think about it that way, then you're not settling."
"But if you do, then you are. Or maybe you're not, but you just think you are?"
"Doesn't that mean you are. Settling is subjective no?"


At some point, some people do settle, for one reason or another. But should we really have to?

Sometimes I wonder what i'm afraid of more: settling or an actual relationship.

"Isn't it pretty to think so?" masochistly numbing

"Well that's the spirit of Christmas."
"What is?"
"Mysterious txt message that lets you know there's less hate in your life."


For the first time, I'm making a new years resolution this year. A real one. None of that 'I have to eat healthier, exercise more (or at all)' because I never keep those.

(On these course of events, and others like it, my emotional capacity is done). At least for 2009.


Anyway.


Whatever your intent was, I don't really know. But on my side of the line, I'm saying thank you, whatever that's worth.

The price of worth. Diction without care.

"The future is only an indifferent void no one cares about, but the past is filled with life, and its countenance is irritating, repellent, wounding, to the point that we want to destroy or repaint it. we want to be masters of the future only for the power to change the past." -Milan Kundera

At twenty-one, I learned the reality of the everlong cliche of broken hearts, emotions heightened to anger, hate, bitterness and regret without sacrifice, without discretion: it was what it was.

At twenty-two, I learned the price of self-worth and perhaps the most difficult things in life are the truths for which we cannot control: time, cancer, the choices of others

At twenty-three, I learned the reality and repercussions of the choices we choose to make, the price of momentary desires

At twenty-four, I learned some things are never meant to be reconciled: perhaps it's not whether someone else will forgive you for your actions, but rather if you can forgive yourself.

My existence these days can only be summed up as surreal. Loss of sanity, happiness as momentary leaps dotting the horizon.

I am from planet earth, of this I'm sure. Of only this I'm sure.

For the sake of religion

"Tell me one person who it's worked out for."
"What? You want me to name someone? You want like a name? Oh god, the pressure of a name...I got it...Cinderfuckin'rella."

Las Vegas, Nevada

If I had to choose.

Even if things end up a bit too heavy

For some reason modest mouse has been an anthem for the past week. I was supposed to wake up at 9am today to go to the museum since it's free on Sunday's apparently. Well now it's noon and that totally didn't happen and it never does happen but I feel good about today. I'm going to get ready for the day in a minor second after I jot this down.

So in between freakouts about school work, failing out, being too stupid for this course in life. I asked, why the hell did I come here? I still don't know what I really want to do with my life, in between searching for internships in Italy, I really wondered why i came here. A large motivating factor was it was in Italy, it was only a year, in a sense, the opportunity of a life time. And I've learned a lot, and I am interested in the topic matter, but in the realistic sense I don't know if I'm ever going to use it in the path I choose.

I’m expecting a lot out of this experience. I’m expecting to find something. I'm expecting this life to make more sense. And I’m praying for understanding in a lot of other ways.

I'm not sure if I'm going to find what I was looking for in the way that I expected. But either way, this will be worth it.

It has to be worth it.

This life will be different.

Free fallin'

In two weeks time I'm going to be dreadfully homesick. It's protocol. Hopefully it only lasts a day. I know I'm always forcing these changes on myself cause I can't stand being in one place for too long. Drives me a little bit crazy, but god damn I hate goodbyes. I've always held on too tight. And then I kind of just jump at the last minute, when I have to, and I always land on my feet, but I'm scared nonetheless.

I got a macbook last week, and I'm in love with it.

He's coming to visit me. He's really going to get on this airplane and fly here. Halfway across the country. And didn't I write that once, that I'd love it if someone would do that for me? But I didn't think anyone ever would, you know? And I've just been sitting here in disbelief, repeatedly asking, "Is he crazy?" in my head.

And we don't have anything in common really. We never talk about anything real. Nothing real. And I tell him this and he doesn't get what I mean. He says I'm crazy. Maybe I am. maybe I am.

But I'm too aware of what is missing.

but i'm always too aware of any problems, or anything that might resemble a problem.

i'm scared of commitment. i'm scared of hurting someone. i don't like hurting people.

we'll see how it all turns out.

i'm having dinner with an old friend. who i haven't seen in what i could say to be years. almost. i just wanted to see what it'd be like to sit in a room with him, after the storm. to see if we came out okay. or if i came out okay anyway.


i'm gonna go to italy and i'm going to come home and this life will be different.

Santeria

"you don't seem self conscious at all," she'd said.

i looked at her completely surprised.

guess i must play it off well or something.



i want soft soft fine sand. the kind people use to clean diamonds with. and i want my friends. sitting by the beach, as the sun sets.

can we? oh please.


this summer is filled with too many farewells and not nearly enough play time.

Adieu

i think about you around the clock. and what's funny is, neither of us were even sure how it all started. and it's weird cause i don't know you all that well, but for some reason it doesn't matter. and never in my life has it ever been this uncomplicated. well, except for that one fact of space and time. and im starting to get really kinda scared. you can't hurt me yet, but you could put me through some serious withdrawal. and if it continues to go at this pace, when i leave for italy, not only will i have to readjust myself, get through the homesickness, but then i have to get used to not talking with you, not hearing your voice, every single day.

it's never supposed to be this simple.

so of course, this will all get very complicated very soon.

the timing is all wrong.

the location is all wrong.

you shook my hand.

i noticed a pattern.

and like the last time, i don't know exactly where anything fell.

i have all these insecurities, and they surface when i feel like i have something on the line. and then i couldn't get why you kept talking to me. and you spoiled me with the calls. the 2 a.m. calls that i knew, i know, is proof of nothing. nothing. and you said it was, in your casual half teasing manner. in my head i knew it to mean nothing. could all still end badly. and now they've more or less ceased. and im taking it as a sign. and im kinda scared, you know?

i can comfort myself in saying, well, maybe if that were the case, it'd be better cause i'm leaving anyway.

but another part of me just wants to say fuck italy. i wouldn't mind just you.

but that would never be enough. and moments like these i wish i was leaving now. today. instead of one month from today. so i could just get away from you, let go of you, before i really fall for you and then it just gets too complicated, too difficult for me to grasp and the only thing i can see are my insecurities.