Why is it ever so difficult to know what another person is thinking? Why is it particularly difficult if that other person happens to be a girl and you wonder if that person is interested in you or not?

She’s talking to you, showing interest or so it seems she is, but you can never tell. Is she talking to you because she’s just that nice, or is there something else?

Did she want something from you or is she actually interested in you? I can never tell. I don’t think many men can tell.

I’m no genius. Let’s just get that out of the way already. I’m not. I’m pretty dumb actually, especially about girls.

I can never read the signs. They are too subtle for me. They always fly over my head.

A girl can be dropping hints that she’s interested in me and wants me to ask her out and I’ll be clueless. Why do these girls insist on playing these types of games? Don’t they realize that we aren’t that smart in reading them? C’mon, give us guys a break.

If we talk and we banter, is that interest or is that just banter? If you touch me on the shoulder or make any physical contact, is it because you are nice, or are you saying, “hey, I made contact, it’s okay for you to touch me now”. I could never tell.

I’ll talk and flirt and bicker and all that great stuff. It seems that we are getting along just dandy, but I will never jump to the conclusion that the girl is interested in me, ’cause I just don’t know.

Girls are just weird. They are a mystery….and I’m not a smart man.

See, us guys, guys like me, we need total blunt trauma to realize that something is happening. If you are interested in me, don’t play around, come out and say it. Knock me upside the head with a frying pan and put a sign in front of my face as I come to that reads: “Hey Dork, I’m interested in you. Ask me out.”

And even then, I would have to think twice. Not because you just knocked me out; no, but because I will surely be having a concussion and I can’t believe everything I read.

Us guys are a helpless bunch. Just DUMB.

So, again, give us a break. Throw us a bone. I’m not good a reading between the lines, especially an analytical guy like me. I will over think everything, taking up so much time that you think I’m not interested because I haven’t responded yet. It’s not that I’m not interested. Surely I am, not unless you can tell that I’m not interested. No, it’s just that I have no idea that you are showing me interest.

Like, do you always remember the drinks of your regulars? Large Jasmine Green Tea, no boba. Week in and week out I would go there and order that. There are days where you see me and you know. You would have it ready before I even get to the counter. There are days where you will charge me less than what the regular price is. Why these favors for me when I’m not asking for them.

Are you just being efficient, because that’s who you are or are you trying to tell me something? I can never tell.

I talk with guys and they tell me that she’s interested. I talk with girls and I get a mixed bag. She may be interested…no, she’s just doing her job…no, she’s just efficient. Now, what is it?

Why can’t you all just come out and say it? You girls have to know that us men are dumb right? We aren’t bright when it comes to these types of things; especially when you are as green as I am in all things girls.

I can never read you. You girls are in relationships, yet it seems that you are talking with me, having fun with me, flirting with me, showing interest in me. Why? You girls are with someone. See, this plays with my head. I think too much.

This makes me think that you girls are just friendly people who are very playful. Nothing more. You girls are not interested in me. You girls are just nice. Why would you show interest in a third party when you are already seeing someone? It just doesn’t make sense to me…so I just think that you girls are just nice sweet girls and I leave it at that.

I’d seen you twice before and really talked only once. That first day we’ve met. We talked about nothing important as I walked you to your car with your new fax machine. Nothing important, nothing mind-blowing. It was barely a get to know you thing; just small talk really.

I see you again a few weeks back, the first time since our first time. You spot me and I spot you. We smiled and said our “hi’s” as I walk by. Our eyes connect in that brief moment as we pass, yet I could still feel your eyes on me as I head in. Or was that my imagination?

A week later, I see you again. I notice you and you notice me. We greeted each other with our smiles and our “hi’s”, but then you did something unexpected; something that made me scratch my head and say “huh?”.

As you walk by, you gently put your hand on my shoulder and said that you’ll be there next time. Where did that come from? I didn’t ask you to touch me and I didn’t think that we’ve reach that level of friendship yet.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love being touched, especially by pretty girls, but that was just unexpected. Even now, as I type this recollection, I cannot figure out what it means.

I asked around and two girls say that maybe you want a toy on the side. Is that true? You are seeing someone right? How can you want a toy on the side? Just unbelievable.

I guess I’m just too naive to understand the inner working minds of women. They are just unreadable and incomprehensible. Mysteries.

I just have to see what happens when we meet again on Monday.

Again, can’t we all just keep things simple, and just tell me if you are interested in me.

Fuck all this signs shit. I’m sure I missed every single sign that was passed my way. I stare it directly in the face and acknowledge it as what the facade is and am none the wiser of its true intention.

I’m a lost cause, a hopeless hopeless.

* * *

Looking back it’s been a little over 10 years ago that I’ve graduated from High School. A few classmates have organized the 10 year reunion back up in Tacoma. It is on Friday, September 28th. And I won’t be going.

There’s a part of me that wants to go and there’s a bigger part that doesn’t. Why? I hardly keep in touch with any of these friends, through college or even now. At the moment, I only keep in touch with one and that is sporadic at best.

I remember a few years ago it was decided that I would meet two of my friends that I kept in touch with at the 10 year reunion. Things fizzle with one of the friends and again, I only keep in touch with the other sporadically.

Sure, there’s a part of me that wouldn’t mind going back and catching up and seeing how everyone is doing and all that bullshit. Another part would like them to see how much I’ve changed since high school. I’m not that alienated antisocial quiet nerd anymore.

I’m less alienated and somewhat antisocial now. You get me on a comfortable and a good day, you wouldn’t be able to get me to stop rambling. I’m much more of a smart ass and I actually feel comfortable in my skin. I’m a changed man since my high school days, a different person.

But, why would I even bother. I don’t know those people. I never knew them well in high school and why would I even be interested in getting to know them now. I’m sure there might be a few “strangers” that I would click with and what not, but I don’t know, I feel so ambivalent about the whole thing.

I probably would have gone back if I didn’t make plans already.

I’m going to China in October and that is pretty much all my vacation time. I’m sure it will be fun, but I’m not the type of person that mingles with a bunch of “strangers” talking about old times in high school that I never had with them, reminiscing on things that I never took part in.

Maybe I’ll feel awkward. I always hated that feeling; always being that odd man out of a conversation because the whole conversation revolves about something I know nothing about or have interest in. I would much rather be home alone then be out and about and be alone.

It’s just funny. Maybe I’m just making excuses of not being there, of not wanting to be there. I don’t know. It’s just another high school event that I’ll miss. I’ve missed many already, why not another one. Hey, there will always be my 20th.

It’s just weird looking at all my old schoolmates’ profiles on myspace. I’m trying to match faces to names and vice versa. Looking at the profiles I see people I knew and hung out with and total strangers that I don’t even recognize.

I didn’t know my class was so big, but then again I was in the honors track. It was the same 60-70 students all the time. So my circle was small.

Looking at them now, many are married and with children. They’ve all grown up and settled down and I don’t know, I feel like the odd man out again. Single and just being.

They have families and I’m all alone. I’m not wallowing in self pity, it’s just I can’t even imagine being married at the moment.

It’s funny, during that time, in high school, I’ve always wished that I would marry and have kids and have a nice family; the American dream. Now, I can’t see myself getting married, even though I do want kids. My how things changed? It’s just funny.

Maybe if my life in high school was different than what actually transpired I would probably made a effort in going back.

High school was a depressing, wretched, lonely, and horrendous experience for me. It was just bad, starting with Sophomore year. Junior year was the beginning of my manic years and Senior year was the worst.

My moods would usually be gloomy and wallow-y for months and months on end. Only one day out of weeks would I just feel “normal”.

Ha, I came a long way. A very long way.

* * *

A few weeks ago an old friend of mine that I had a falling out with emailed me and asked if I was going to go to the reunion. It was a simple email; just the question. And I replied simply: no.

I was surprised that she emailed me. Very surprised. I haven’t spoken or had any contact with her since that day we had the falling out.

I was so angry at what transpired between us. Very angry. I couldn’t believe it actually. But, it happened and there’s no taking it back.

As time passed, I realized that I didn’t care anymore that we drifted apart. I had no desire to get in touch with her, none at all. Sure from time to time she’ll pop back in my head but it all leads back to what happened and I just let it be.

There’s a big part of me that just doesn’t care that our long friendship since middle school just ended like that. None at all. Even now, I have no desire to talk to her or try to rekindle things. What’s the point?

If we were such good friends, we wouldn’t have had that falling out in the first place. I guess we weren’t that good of friends.

I’m not saying that I didn’t do anything wrong and I’m not going to say that she did everything wrong. We both made mistakes that night, but I do have to say that my intentions weren’t even close to what she accused me of doing.

I couldn’t believe it. Not at all.

I think the thing for me, the thing that really got under my skin, besides the accusations was that it didn’t seem like she was going to tell me that she was having problems with me or with what I did. I had to force it out of her. She was giving me the cold shoulder, the icy silence.

I sent her an email and then she finally talked to me. If we were friends, she should have just come out and say it, but again, it’s in the past and that’s it.

I don’t think I’ve ever written about the matter in public. There maybe one or two private entries in here about the matter, but that’s it.

It was just another event in my life that I lived through.

Do I regret it? I don’t know. Again, thinking about it, it got to a point where I didn’t care that I lost an old friend. Not one bit.

Of course after my answer, she never replied. I don’t expect her to.

I guess she’s just wondering if I was going, so maybe she can decide if she wants to go or not. Maybe she just doesn’t want to bump into me and have it be all awkward. I could understand.

Maybe she just wants to start over, try things over again. I don’t know. I honestly don’t. If that’s the case, she could have always emailed me. ‘Cause I know I’m not going to email her. I’m too stubborn to and I think she knows that too.

I wonder from time to time if she still reads this journal and if so, what would she think of me now and what I just wrote about her? But I highly doubt that she’s keeping tabs on me.

Who is this that stares back at me in the morning? Who is this person that I have become? The face is familiar, so is the body, but there is something that is just off about him. There is something different that I can’t pinpoint. What is it?

Who is this stranger?

He seems familiar, a lost soul that I was connected to long ago. Or is he someone that came from the future, a self that I haven’t found? I don’t know, but there is comfort there, seeing him, watching him mimicking my movements.

He stands tall, much taller than I’ve ever stood before. The smile that always shines on his face is something that I can only muster on special occasions and they surely don’t come often enough.

The eyes that squint back at me glimmers with hope and confidence; something that I’ve lost long ago.

Who is this mystery man?

Watching him go about his business, it just seems so easy. How come I can never do that? What is holding me back?

It seems he doesn’t have the insecurities that I’ve grown up with; the flaws that stick out like a sore thumb.

He’s the perfect me. He’s the person that I strive to be.

Looking at him gives me hope of the future. Things shine brighter in my day ever since I’ve gotten to see him. Now, I have something to strive for; something to work towards.

Why hasn’t he come sooner? Why hasn’t he appeared when I needed him the most?

I think back and see where I had come from and what I’d overcome. I sure could had used him along the way, but he was never there.

It just seems that when I’m almost fixed; when I don’t need people like him, that he shows up and guides me. Why is that always the case?

Why indeed?

How I imagine myself to be him, how I do wish I was him. Things would go much easier, smoother. I would know the things to say, the quick witty retort that would take me days, if not weeks, to come up with will come in a split second.

I’m sure he would have come up with the “not as sweet as you” line much quicker than I did. He would have used it and charmed his way to a name and maybe a conversation and constant flirting.

Instead, it was just a smile and a thank you that lead to a shy smile and look of “you dropped the ball dumbass” and me going to my table with my tail between my legs to write my little ditty.

But I’m left with me, the beginnings of this man that stares back at me. I see him and see what I must become, what I will become. Just a little more time for me to fine tune the things that haunts my securities.

I have hope, a direction in where I need to go. It’s just going to be a slow process getting there.

Slow

* * *

Falling back; fading in the mist
Tumbling across time

Disappearing from myself
Flaws that hinder

Problems shrink
As do caring

Nothing but liberty
Freedom to BE

Playing with openness
Heart grows wild; untamed

Fearless
Adventurous

No worries
No pain

The Child in Me
Never Never Land

Tick tock
Time Flies

Up we go
Circling the star

Taller higher
Problems mistakes

Cares
Responsibilities

Less free
More tamed

Me
I

Decisions
Choices

Left
Right

Leaping Forward; fading in emptiness
Tumbling across time

2007-08-23

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything in this journal. It’s been well over a month of my obsession with the Twins, but now I think that I should put them to rest…well, at least on this blog and start something new.

It seems that nothing much has changed in the past couple of weeks. My obsession with the Twins still live on of course, but I haven’t stayed up in the night looking for their youtube videos in a while.

It’s just been a focus on work and on my writing.

I am currently in my first draft of A Ghost Story of Some Kind, my adaption of Tsui Hark’s A Chinese Ghost Story. I am at my local writing spot, trying to come up with my four pages that I need to make the writing bet for this session. Just four pages and I am currently stuck.

I’m about 24 pages in and the story is off to a good start, strong and hard. This is very streamlined, for 24 pages into the story, our hero, Leslie, is already looking for the mysterious Beautiful Woman already in the haunted woods. What will come next? I don’t know. If I did, I would be writing it right now, but I am at a lost on how to proceed. I am lost.

Maybe I need to watch the original again to see how they approach it. I have to make sure that I need to make this movie my own, but it is getting difficult to see clearly. Maybe I’m just tired today. I don’t know what it is. Maybe tomorrow will be better. All I know is that my body is yelling at me to get some much needed rest.
* * *

It was the company ditch day yesterday. Knott’s Berry farm again. It was a lightning speed scavenger hunt again, with minimal rides. I didn’t care. I was out of the office, having a good time. It wasn’t bad. But boy am I beat.

The happy hour was the thing to look forward to. Getting drunk and talking about the girls in our office with the other guys. Who’s the hottest? Who do we find attractive? Just typical guys stuff. Just guys being guys. Just guys bullshitting.

Fun.

Tired. Fatigued. Body hates me. Maybe I’m coming down with something. I don’t know. I don’t know what it is.
* * *

Everyone says that once you start exercising that you should have all of this energy and what not. It’s a lie. I’ve been exercising every day. I’ve been running my run with Pickles in the morning, and my weight routine and then my abs routine, which I haven’t been doing. I should be bouncing off the wall with energy and not feel this fatigue.

I’ve changed my diet also. It’s so changed. Breakfast, snacks, lunch, and dinner. It’s changed so much from my usual “one meal a day”, that it’s not funny anymore. With all of this food intake, one should think that I have tons of energy. All lies.

I would still go home and nap. I find it funny. I am so old.

So, I ask myself what all of this exercising have done for me.

I don’t’ know.

A few weeks ago, a few coworkers have complimented on how good I look. That, I must have done something different, because I am quite attractive. I laugh. HA!

It started with the annoying girl at work. She made a comment if I got laid recently, which we all know is not the case. Something’s changed. Something’s different. There’s something about me that makes her take notice. Not that she hasn’t taken notice before.

So, lemmesee what I’ve done recently. I grew out my hair and I have been exercising. Could the combination of the two do it in for me? I don’t’ know what it is.

Maybe it’s because of my speed dating experience and the “confidence” that I’ve gathered from that. Who knows?

But I’ve changed.

Another coworker commented on the same thing. I was walking in the kitchen and she looked at me and as I walked by she made a comment to the other girls in the office. That there’s something about me that makes me more attractive than usual.

Now keep in mind this is all happening in a span of a few weeks. Just a few weeks.

A few days later, another comment from another coworker. We’re at the copy machine and she softly touch my arm. “You’re so handsome”. I blush and laugh.

What is it? I barely notice anything different physically, because I’m still not toned as I want to be. Not at all. I just have no muscle mass. Just weird. Strange.
* * *

It’s been a while since I’ve flirted with anyone. Once in a blue moon, I’ll flirt with my old coworkers, because I have nothing better to do, and I’m just playful like that. But most of the times, I just joke and do whatever.

I don’t know what it is. Girls have been noticing me more or they are just being nice.

The girls at Volcano Tea would give me discounts on their tea, and one in particular would remember my drink. Maybe I am that much of a regular. Who knows?

I just know that I suck and I don’t know what I’m doing. I can’t even ask my usual boba girl’s name. I just have no game.
* * *

Tired, lazy eyes are just staring in the screen while my twisted brain thinks of something for my fingers to do.

I just don’t know what has gotten into me lately. I’m just so tired. I go through my routine of working and coming home and working and coming home and going out once in a while. That is life. I don’t dream of it being more than what it is. I don’t know. I’m just feel that I’m in a strange time in my life.

Now don’t get me wrong, things are good. Nothing that is out of the ordinary for me. There is nothing to complain much about. Maybe that’s it; I just don’t have much to complain about.

Looking back at some of my earlier posts of this year and even from a few years ago, it just seems that I have lost something in my writing. It just seems that my blog writings in my yesteryear came so easily to me. Now I’m stretching to come up with something to write; something to say.

Maybe my well has dried up and there’s no more ink. There’s just nothing there anymore to write about.

I don’t know. I just look back and think of things and nothing comes to me. Nothing at all. It’s all just mindless rambling and ramblings that don’t make sense or come to a point. Life is life.

Tired and sore. Fatigued and semi-conscious.

I’m old. Just old.

I’m having twins. I was just told that I’m having twins.

Okay, that’s a lie. I would need to have sex first to have twins…well, at least recently, within the past 9 months at least. So, I am not having twins. Darn!

Again, for some reason around July of last year, I had this funny fascination with Chinese music. I guess I wrote in this blog of mine about me going back to my Chinese roots with me getting into books by Chinese authors and watching the television shows that I grew up with.

So pretty much for the past year, I have been listening to Chinese music steadily. This includes Chinese classics by Theresa Teng and Hong Kong pop singers like Andy Lau, Jacky Cheung, and Twins, and some old music that my dad listens to.

I don’t understand why I am having these fits of Chinese music. It’s just weird. That’s one thing I can’t shake. I could go weeks and months without watching any of the television shows that I grew up with, but daily I would need to get my daily dose of Chinese music.

I have my designated playlists of Chinese music and Twins in my ipod and itunes. And every day I would listen to the whole playlist while I’m at work. Throughout the year the Chinese playlist would grow and grow with random Chinese songs that I would get from myspace or whatever download site I can find that would allow me to download the music.

Even now, as I listen to Twins, I’m not sick of it. Some days I would just do my random shuffle play on my lovely ipod and I would get antsy because my Chinese music isn’t coming up as often as I would like. I would get withdrawal symptoms. It’s weird.

But, Twins or Twins. Gillian Chung. Charlene Choi. The Hong Kong pop sensation. I for some reason have a unreasonable obsession with them. I don’t know where it stems from…actually I do know where it stem from (More on this later). Here are pics of them.

Gillian Chung Charlene Choi
Twins

For the past couple of weeks, they’ve been all I am listening to mostly. Again, I’m not sure why I have such a fascination with Chinese music and especially their music. They have some great catchy songs not unlike any other addictive cantopop and they sure have their bunch of crappy ones.

It all started about the end of the year last year when I downloaded a particular song of theirs, The Mice Loves Big Rice(Literal Translation). It’s a Mandarin song, which means I don’t understand much of it….and it’s not like I understand any Cantonese songs either, but for some reason, it became one of my favorite songs. It’s just so catchy and innocent and I don’t understand much of it. But I looked up the video for it and bam it was a mixture of Cantonese and Mandarin and I was smitten.

I showed my friend Susan and she could understood why I liked the song…that they are cute Chinese girls helped. I didn’t even notice it until she told me. They are cute. Very cute.

I know that they are big pop stars in Hong Kong and made many movies, so I rented one of their first that drew tons of attention because it was coined a “Twins’ Movie”. It is called Twins Effect or The Vampire Effect. Just let me get my mini review out of the way…two words: IT SUCKED.

But, there was this lovely beautiful girl in it, one of the twins. Gillian Chung. I was smitten.

Then came an onslaught of movies upon movies and research upon research on them and who they are. I’ve watched everything that Netflix had to offer with these two ladies. Everything.

Overall, I’m surprised by their acting on the actually good movies. They do have some bad movies. I think out of the many movies they have at Netflix that I’ve seen, there is only one that I’m gaga over and it’s just plain and simple and I love it more for the story than anything else. Just One Look…it’s a coming-of-age story about first loves, heart ache, and add a little Cinemaparadisio to it and what is there not to love?

I was really blown away by their acting, especially that of Charlene. She’s very subdued and natural. Not over the top at all, and the same can be said with Gillian, but it was Charlene’s delivery and acting that made an impression.

As I watcched more and more of their movies, I did notice that Charlene was growing on me too. I know, I’m a dork, stupid, and fickle. Sue me. But Gillian is the prettier one and Charlene is the outgoing one.

Charlene has a very playful and outgoing personality. They both are quite funny, but Charlene has a better personality, where as Gillian is very reserved. I believe that she’s loosened up quite a bit…so I’ve been told.

Anywho, again, unhealthy obsession with these two Chinese girls.

On a side note, I have a severe case of Yellow Fever right now. It’s not funny.

For the longest time I have never been an addict of youtube and watching videos online but again I’m obsessed. For the past couple of weeks, when I should be writing at home, all I’ve been doing has been watching anything that had to do with Twins and Gillian and Charlene. This consists of music videos and interviews and skits and what not that involved one or the other.

Through this I get to see their personality, especially during the interviews. Charlene is the outgoing, talkative, funny one and Gillian is the shy and reserved one. But, in recent interviews she has become more and more talkative and outgoing.

They are both cute, each in their own way.

Unhealthy fascination.

Now, through watching their music videos and listening to their songs I’ve made another observation. Charlene has the better voice, but again, Gillian is prettier (I’m shallow, I know. I suck).

Since this unhealthy obsession erupted, I have bought two albums Ho Hoo Tan and Our Love – 6th Anniversary. Our Love – 6th Anniversary is a greatest hits album, and there I found some of my favorite Chinese songs.

I would love to sit and write more about this unhealthy, unhealthy, sick and just wrong obsession about my new found crushes, but I have to leave.

Look for the dream that keeps coming back. It is your destiny oh said the little fortune cookie I had with my dinner last night. It’s just the funniest thing.

As you all know from my earlier post, I have a particular dream that keeps recurring and it is about the fair lady Kate. Now, it is just too ridiculous to believe that she is my destiny, so I’m not even going to think about that. It’s over, she’s gone and out of my life, not that she was ever in it.

The dream that keeps recurring, I don’t know what it is. Just because I wrote about my flickering mind movies of Kate recurring, doesn’t mean that those are the dreams that keep recurring that the fortune cookie is referring about. No, not at all. It is something else…or it could just be the general theme of those dreams.

Direction. I know where I’m going; I know what I’m doing. I belong. I’m just doing my own thing. I’ve been having these dreams concurrent with my dreams of Kate (which haven’t happened in a good week now). That seems to be a strong theme in my dreams of late.

I remember when I was younger, in high school and in college; I would have all these dreams where I’m just wandering aimlessly around places. I would always be lost or I lost something and I’m just trying to find what it is that I was trying to find or that I’ll be chased by bad guys. I wouldn’t ever interact with any people unless it is to ask for directions or anything. That was when I was younger, and boy, were those dreams quite fitting of my life back then. Directionless, lost, miserable and alone.

Now, things are different. There seems to be no rush in my dreams. I have directions, I’m doing what I’m doing and I don’t care. Whether it was hanging with family or going somewhere and exploring. I have purpose. I have a feeling that I belong and that I know what I’m doing. That is my life…in my dreams. I’m not lost anymore. I have a place in my dreams, as I have a place in my life here. It’s just funny how literal dreams can be. I’m always going off alone, doing something, that I’m supposed to be doing and I’m having fun with it. I don’t care that I’m alone, because there will always be people that I interact with…family and friends. I have a place.

Maybe that is my destiny. I’m off alone just living life and doing things. I’m going places and exploring. I’m just doing my own thing and not caring what other people think. I’m not lost, I’m exploring. I’m not afraid anymore. Life.

That is my destiny. To live life and living the life in my own terms and not others.

It’s been a long journey that I’ve taken to get where I am today. A really long one. It really does seem that I have found my place in my life. I have found a certain peace. Now, again, life isn’t perfect and full of roses. It’s far from that, but it’s light years from where I was in the lost days.

My destiny. Il destino.

Now if you want to think that the actual “recurring” dreams of Kate are my true destiny, then it has to be something else. I don’t think we can take that literally. I believe it has to do with me finding a partner…finding that particular girl in my life that makes me feel alive, that pushes me, that I feel comfortable with where I never felt comfortable before.

That’s one thing I had with Kate…I never was secure with myself to talk with her. She always intimidated me and for the life of me I never understood why. Maybe it’s because she’s just very attractive and just out of my league. Who knows? But, it seems, according to my dreams, I’m comfortable with her, just flirting, just being.

If my destiny has to be the recurring dreams of Kate, then that is what it is. It’s about time that I meet someone.

* * *

Not to scare anyone, maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I’ve been having these chest pains recently. They are small dull pains in my chest, my heart. I don’t know what it is. I know it’s been a while since I’ve gone for a checkup; since right after my dad’s passing that I’ve gone. It’s been a little over four years that I went for a checkup. And now, I’m having chest pains.

I’m most definitely sure that I am fine. I’m sure that these chest pains are just indigestion or heart burn. IT IS NOTHING SERIOUS.

I have gone to the doctor to get my physical and get my blood work. I will get my results in a couple of weeks. I’m sure it will be fine.

I’m just worried that my cholesterol is high. I’ve been eating my usual one meal a day for the most party, but they have been mostly healthy, but again, I do love my fried chicken.

But, maybe it is the heart pain (whether I’m still mourning my dad’s passing or it’s actually physical pain or I’m just having emotional problems subconsciously), I have decided to start exercising.

Starting July 1st is when I will change. I will strive to eat more healthily, which means more snacks throughout the day; more fruits and vegetables; and more exercise.

I’m going to buy a small weight set to help me tone my body. I’m going to start running again and hopefully stick to it. I’m going to do more pushups and crunches. I’m going to be healthy. I’m going to change my body, my health.

Again, maybe it is the heart pain that is making me do this. Again, maybe the pain is due to some physical heart problem or some mental heart problem. I’m doing this.

It’s been pretty much a year since I broke up with Sheilah. If it is not on this day, then it is in the next two or three days that I did break up with Sheilah. It’s been a year. A year since my first and last real relationship. I’m not counting Star, because that wasn’t a relationship.

But, it’s been a year. I told myself and Sheilah that after her, I’m done. I’m done looking. I’m done with relationships, and I guess for the most part I am. I think my dreams of me being on my own, being comfortable with it and me doing my own thing is proof of that.

But I told myself that I was going to take the year off after Sheilah and the year is over. I guess this is another reason why I’m making these changes. I’m growing my hair out because I do look better with longer hair and I was bored with my buzz cut. I’m going to start watching my health. I’m going to be more responsible with my life. It is time for me to focus and get my life back in shape again, not just my body, but my life.

I’ve noticed that as I got older, my slacking on my responsibilities. I’m not studying when I should. I’m not cleaning when I should. I’m not taking care of myself when I should. It is time. I just hope I stick with it.

* * *

There’s still that large part of me that is feeling antisocial. A large part, but again, maybe with my life changing I’m making an effort to go out more. I’m making an effort to put myself out there.

I am going out tomorrow for dinner with a coworker and then poker. Saturday I’m going to go to dinner with my cousin, Yen.

Yen and I are going to go speed dating in Santa Monica in the next few weeks. I never went speed dating before. Sure there’s a part of me that would find it fun and interesting and there’s a part of me that is nervous, but I don’t know, there’s just a large part of me that just doesn’t care.

There’s a large part of me that wants to be myself during the speed dating, to be myself. This translates to being an ass. Maybe it will work. Maybe I’ll find my future wife there (I highly doubt it), but maybe it will work. All in all, I think it will be fun and it will be an experience.

My life is picking up speed from here on out. It was stuck in first gear for a while as I learned the ropes, getting my feet wet. Now, I’m on my own, comfortable and bored with that pace and know that for me to get anywhere, I need to step on the gas.

Let’s see how fast this baby can go.

I’ve been wanting to write for a while. Thoughts just hang in my head wanting to get an out, but I never cave into the desire to put them into words. I just think about putting them into words, but never act on it. I think tonight might be the night when it comes to fruition and take part in my little blog.

May has come and almost gone. It just crept up on me like most everything else. Out of surprise. The day came and went and I didn’t feel anything. I didn’t even remember the day until a week or so later. I remember it like a passing thought. In and out of my head and nothing more. I never acted on it, not during that time. But, eventually my heart has a mind of it’s own.

About two weeks ago, I got really moody. I couldn’t pinpoint where that particular mood was coming from. All I know was that I’m moody. Everyone at work could tell that I’m not all there, stuck in my angst. The look on my face tells it all. I get easily frustrated and annoyed. It has finally happen. It was that time of year. I took it hard, not depressed as in last year, but just an anger filled week or two as I silently mourn my father’s passing.

Again, the day came and went. I paid it no thought, but maybe when I remember I just subconsciously mourn and get in the funky funk that I’m known to getting into.

I’m not going to lie and say that I’m over his death. That is not the case, and I don’t think it would be the case for quite a long time. He’s still there in my heart and my thoughts. I still tear up time to time when some thoughts of him creep up in my mind. I can’t help it. I miss my dad. I sorely do.

Once I figured out what was making me grumpy, the anger and the “depression” went away. It just subsided. I finally accepted that it was that, a little episode of mourning. I had every right to it. After recognition, it was gone. Lifted. I was back to my playful self, and even my coworkers notice the change. I guess I’m just not that complicated after all.

So, as May comes and goes, so does another year that my father isn’t with me anymore. I do wonder when will I actually get through a May without any problems. I still remember last May, I was with Sheilah and I broke down in front of her about it. May 2005, I had a fit with Isela. I guess I could count on getting moody around that time of the year. It’s the most logical explanation why I’m moody.

* * *

Maybe it is because it is around the time of my father’s death that I’m not feeling really social lately. Maybe I just need the time by myself to silent mourn and go through my yearly ritual of depression. I wrote in this blog just a few weeks ago about me wanting to be a hermit again. It could all be that. I don’t know what the reason really is on why I’m feeling this way. I do love the idea of being alone; being the total loner that I am, but is that really the explanation? I don’t know. Let’s just say it is and leave it at that.

* * *

Mind movies of the night. I’ve been having a recurring one lately. I still can’t figure out why I’m having this particular dream, or have this particular subject come up repeatedly. I think I had these “similar” dreams about three or four times now. They all involve an old friend of mine from my Roxbury days, Kate. I haven’t seen her since the end of October of last year, when I was still playing basketball with her. And even before then, I don’t think we were ever “close” to use that term.

I mean, we don’t keep in touch and we rarely talk while playing basketball. There were times of small talk and catching up, but nothing serious. Other than that, she seemed more like an acquaintance rather than the friend that I made at Roxbury.

But my flickering mind movies were about her. Again, there were a series of them, and they would be simple scenarios. We would meet up for whatever reason; waiting in line at the grocery store, running into each other on the streets, etc…and the weirdest thing is that we would flirt with each other. I would hold her and she would flirt back. There was a particular dream that we kissed and boy did I actually feel the kiss. She was actually surprised that I was a good kisser. In the dream of course…not that we kissed in real life.

Again, I haven’t seen her since last October and I hardly think about her. I mean once in a blue moon she would pop in my head as I go through my myspace page and see her as my friend, but other than that, out-of-sight out-of-mind. But she would continuously pop up in my dreams, in those particular situations.

I couldn’t make head or tails out of it. Dreams are very subjective; open to interpretation, and yet, I couldn’t figure it out. I couldn’t figure out how it applied to my life now. I thought and thought about it and no cigar. It couldn’t be that I met someone, because I haven’t. If it is something to do with relationships and intimacy, I couldn’t understand why it would be her because we never shared those. Sheilah would have made a better subject. So, call me baffled.

Along with the first of these recurring dreams of Kate, there was another one that followed. I knew I should have jotted these down, but I totally flaked. It was about Kimster. I don’t remember the exact details, but I believe it went a little like this. She called me up out of the blue and we were chatting and I was being charming. I don’t know whether it was I who made the suggestion that we should get together or if it was her, but we both agreed that we should get together. I, of course asked her if she was serious and she said she was. That was that. That was the dream. There was another dream in this about another girl, whom I forgot, but it was similar theme, me hitting on them and it going well. Strange. Strange indeed.

To this day, I don’t know what these dreams mean. I have my theories, but I really don’t understand what they mean. To me, I see these girls as very attractive girls. Girls I wouldn’t mind to getting to know more. One would think, or I thought that they were out of my league. Well at least with Kate I did, especially when I knew her during Roxbury. So that might have something to do with it. Maybe it is telling me that I have the confidence to find a girl that I thought was out of my league. All in all, these dreams demonstrated that I got the confidence to have them say yes, or flirt with me. Maybe it was my subconscious telling me that. Who knows? Maybe I am ready to go out and socialize and find someone. I really can’t say.

It also could mean that I’m really lonely and really horny and that I need some attention and some relationship goodies. Who knows?

Another theory is that I miss flirting. I’m not flirting with anyone now. No one at all. Before I had Isela, and then I had Star and Sheilah to play my little games. Then there was Dalia there for a bit, out of desperation or maybe because she was there, but then there is no one. No one at all. And one thing I know about my relationship with Kate, especially during our Roxbury days was that we would flirt and flirt and flirt. Maybe I just miss flirting. I miss the chase and that I need to go out there and find someone to chase. I don’t know what it is, but it seems likely that that is the case. Who honestly knows what my subconscious is trying to tell me. I for one have no idea. None at all.

* * *

I thought that this blog would have been what I wanted to write here tonight, but I don’t know, but for some reason it turned out differently than how I planned. I honestly don’t know what it is with me lately and me writing in this journal. There are other things on my mind, but I think I’ll wait until another time to get them down. Maybe something new would come up in the dream front….maybe something will come up in the real life front. Maybe.

Be still! My beating heart
Keep the steady pace that drives you
There are no strings that pull you to and fro
Wings clipped to little useless stubs
You will flutter no more like the butterflies in my stomach
You are just the muscle that drives my existence
Steady as a drum, keeping the rhythm
No one there that will make you flutter
No one. So, do as I say, Be Still!

* * *

There is nothing like going on without anyone in your life. There is nothing like going on being on your own, being comfortable with the loneliness that is you, nothing wrong with having your best friend and only friend be you for the most part. Nothing wrong at all.

Here I sit in this little new café that is now my preferred writing spot on my free weekend mornings to write down my thoughts, my new adventures, or my new visions. I come out here just sit with my headphones on as the tv blares and the two employees sit and mutter their own little Chinese that I barely understand. I have no problem with this.

Again, I have come to the conclusion that I am not built to be in a relationship. Not now atleast. My friends pinned me right. I’m just too selfish. But I guess that comes with me being alone for so long. It’s hard to think of anyone else. I love my free time. I love being the lazy butt that just sits and lays on his futon watching television. Whether it is a show I’ve seen before or a movie that I’ve watched over 20+ times. I have no problem with that. It’s my life. I could go hours if not days not saying a word to anyone, or interacting with anyone. I don’t mind. I am just a solitary being that it doesn’t phase me anymore.

Friends would ask during our normal catch up since the last time we’ve seen how things are going in my life, and I honestly tell them that things are going GOOD. Because they are. The conversation would eventually lead up to the girls in my life and if there any prospects. Of course there isn’t. Like I told Luis, I don’t put myself out there to meet any of them. I don’t go out and socialize. As he puts it, I don’t have to go out and work at it, but just join a club or go out and do something that might help me meet new people.

I know I know, eventually I will get there where I will be able to do that. But, like I told him, I’m done. I’m finished. It’s over. I’m too selfish; I’m too into myself to think of another person. I can’t make the compromise with that significant other. I know it is a matter of meeting that right girl that I would want to make that commitment to and hopefully then I would be able to make that compromise. But I know for sure, at this moment in my life. I’m not. I can’t imagine myself doing that. Darn being a solitary figure.

So I am crawling back into my cave, my comfort zone. I am going into the woods and locking myself out there in my own little shack, shunning people and civilization. I need to be with myself again, mind and body, so I can regain my focus on what it is that I need to do. Perfect my skills, my hobbies, and myself.

I am perfect as anyone can be. I am perfect in the sense that I am comfortable in my own skin and I know myself inside and out. My flaws don’t haunt me anymore, as I look at them as character building aspects of my life. I’m stubborn, I know, but that makes me strong with conviction. I’m hard to bend, strong is my thoughts and personality. I am the ass that would say anything that would get a laugh, no matter how incorrect it maybe or how offensive. That’s me. Bring on the critics and the judgmental eyes. I don’t care. This is who I am and I’ve welcomed him in this world for a couple of years now.

Maybe it’s my world weariness or maybe it’s just because I’m older, but it seems that I’ve been giving a lot of advice to my younger cousins. Whether it was Ly or Michael, and now with Kent, especially during their high school days; but I don’t know what it is that makes them come to me for the advice. My advice is sound and it is right, but maybe I’m bias because I’m giving it. I am world weary, looking at it with cynical eyes, seeing all the gears and pulleys that make the world spin. I understand the mechanisms that make life go on.

I don’t know why I am like this. Maybe it was in high school where I was so depressed that I couldn’t escape it. Maybe it is that I’ve overcome my demons, finally and am ready to just go on with life, living it a day at a time. I don’t know. I just know that I’m living it, even though many do say I haven’t really lived.

What is the definition of living? Trying out new things to see what you do and do not like? Going out and gaining new experiences? I’ve gone out, I’ve tried new things, and I know what it is that I like or don’t like.

The only thing that I don’t know is what I want when it comes to my social life. Whether it is that I want to be alone or in a relationship? I really don’t know what it is that I want. A large part of me wouldn’t mind being in that dream relationship, but again, that is only a dream. Another part of me doesn’t think I can give up this loner lifestyle that I’ve grown so accustomed to. Who knows what my future holds? Who knows.

A blank white open canvas. Perfect pristine, unflecked with any marks. BLANK. Blank indeed.

Lost and gone are the words that come out so naturally just a year or two ago. I am only left with the yearning for the poetry that I was once able to write; the lyrical jibjab of nonsensical riff raff that graced this journal of mine. With each rambling there was a focused subject that I would be able to comeback to and focus on, so there would be a sense of purpose in the nonsense.

It is gone. Gone gone gone. I have no words to write. No problems to solve. I have lost my touch, gone gone gone. So sad. Indeed, so sad.

I went out searching for my words, but they are ever so elusive. They have their own flight of fancy that comes and goes. When I feel that I have secured them in my head and they are on their way through my fingers to do their little tap dancing performance, they stop and freeze from stage fright. Lost and gone.

Lost and gone are my “T’s” when I try to write the word “Lost”, so they come out as “los”. Strange indeed as my fingers try to fall back into habit of writing freely without the strict rules of screenwriting and making sense of story.

I have a lot of stories to tell so I’ve been told. Fun and fascinating stories of one-liners that make up the fact about a certain event. Fun indeed as they are just merely facts instead of “stories” from the writer that I am trying to be. Oh, how I fit in so well with so many people and how I just miss with others.

Getting back to the ones and zeroes that come from my little buds, they are becoming more and more foreign. I’m falling back to my language of birth and becoming more and more chinese.

Again, I feel that I am Chinese, not Chinese American or Asian American. Even though I do fit that category, for the life of me I would like to consider myself Chinese rather than a combination of both. Maybe it is just because of the technicality that I’m not a mutt or that I wasn’t born in the “America” that the term so reference. I am Chinese. That is from my blood, my heritage, my ethnicity.

Why would I consider myself a Chinese American when I don’t even consider myself Vietnamese? I was born in Vietnam, but I am not Vietnamese. Again, the blood in me is that of the Hans. So there is no American in me. None.

Funny because most of the elders in my family consider me American. I have taken up many of their cultures and ways. I grew up a mixture of American and Chinese. I did.

I think I am a good balance of both. But, I’m still Chinese. It’s all symnatics, I know, but still, it makes sense to me.

I’m Chinese.

* * *

All is lost, all is gone. NOthing comes and nothing comes. I have nothing left to say. Maybe it is the brightness of day that prevents me from writing these diatribes that I was so good at. I don’t know has gotten into me. I have no clue what happened. I usually write in the dark, the blackness of light.

Those were the days before pickles. Now, it seems I only write during the days mostly, unless I am forced to write at night, due to the pressures of dealines.

This is fun writing to keep me on my game. I guess I don’t do fun things anymore, but only do things that I am required to do.

What are fun things? Socializing or being the hermit that I am. Though my dear cousin doesn’t see me as the hermit and antisocial person that I so proclaim. She seems me as the social butterfly. Why? Because I get along with her well. I tell her my stories of going out and drunkeness. They come few and far between.

True there is a part of me that is a butterfly flapping its wings in socialness, but you can’t beat nature. I am the hermit. I like being on my own, doing my own thing, doing whatever it is that I want to do and that is to stay home and sleep, watch tv or movies. I love it. It’s such a relaxing boring life that I live and yearn to live. I love it.

I’m a lazy butt. I know it. My mom knows it and I’m sure my dad knew it. But, I don’t know. I guess all in all, I have no problem not talking with anyone, especially when I have nothing to say. Why say anything when you have nothing to say. Nothing is as bad as forced conversations. What is that? Awkwardness.

Maybe with more time and more thoughts in my head, these blank endless space of my journal will become filled once again. I have no more writing assignments to do. Not yet atleast. I just need to come up with my new idea. A short, a feature. A homage to A Chinese Ghost Story. I don’t know what my next project will be, but I am sure that I will have another next project. It will only be in time. Time.

I’ve come here time and time again before doing work that was important to me. Now I just sit here listening the the familiar foreign language of my life coming through my head phones to push out the sound of the chopping, sizzling, and useless talk that fills the air.

I don’t know is happening to me lately. I just sit on and actually enjoy that my life is just passing me by. I go to work day in and day out, come home, walk the dog, surf the web, cook dinner, and just relax. I have no qualms that I’m single and not going out to meet new people. I’m not in a rush to get married to do the things that society and family push me to do. I’m a hermit. I’m falling back to my hermitude. Hermitude.

Going home this past weekend and being around family and all these little cousins and kids; of course the question would come up. “When are you going to get married?” I don’t know. I honestly can’t answer that because, sure it is in my head as to when, but I do not really think about it. I guess I have truly adopted the philosphy, “it’ll happen when it happens.”

There is no rush. What is the rush? I’m 28. I’m 28. I’m still moderately young, though many believe that I’m too old to get married. It’s just a piece of paper, a formality more than anything else.

Family. I love them. I miss them. Being back there, it just made me realize how I fit in for the most part with some family members and others. Those who understand me I get along great. I get along with the elders great. I would like to think they understand me for the most part.

I would have to say that I’ve been the most smart ass with them this time. Especially when it comes to the issue of marriage. I would beat around the bush and play games; telling them what they want to hear; telling them what they don’t want to hear; never giving a straight answer.

I brought up issues of race and orientation and if it really matters. Of course, it really doesn’t, atleast not with me. With some family members it obviously do; but not with me. I’m so open minded that I should worry about my mind falling out of my head.

Well, I guess to my mom, race doesn’t matter much to her at all. She’s not against Tu’s marriage to her black fiancé even though Tu’s parents are. What’s the big deal?

Also, it seems that 5th uncle is totally against me marrying a black girl too. Honestly, I don’t see what the big deal is. As long as we love each other, I really think that is the only thing that matters. But again, I’m just too open minded and idealistic in that matter.

As to the issue of homosexuality, I know it’s a big deal in our familly and that it is a big no no, even thought Big Auntie says it doesn’t matter. I know it does. The elders of my family is a little too traditional to accept homosexuality. They just are.