Sunday, June 16, 2013

My Life as a Cat Slave

How I know its time to go to bed.


  1. One of my cats scratches at the door, usually the little one who likes to sleep with me whom I call Kitty Princess.
  2. She makes the rounds then sits at the foot of my chair and meows until I put her on my lap.
  3. I hit up the ususals of my internet browsing, email, Facebook, National Geographic, then the never ending Tumblr. 
  4. After 20-30 minutes of that its off of my lap then a flurry of fur sprints to the bathroom where I follow and confirm that there is food and water as I had confirmed for her a few hours earlier.
  5. While she munches I brush my teeth wash my face and glasses then get into bed.
  6. Just as I am falling asleep she leaps up onto my chest. 
  7. Purring loudly for the next few hours she stays there and keeps me quite toasty.

How I wake up.

  1. Little Kitty Princess as I call her, sleeps peacefully on my chest.
  2. One of my other cats, usually the one my mom calls Blackie scratches on the screen outside my door, at 2 am.
  3. She proceeds to do this until I let her in, Blackie takes about 5 tv minutes to make the three foot trip. She wants to look out for the other cat Big Whiney as she will hit her in the face if she can.
  4. Once she is in I can go back to sleep, for a while.
  5. 20 minutes later Kitty Princess decides once again I am the optimum sleeping perch and I am awoken by a pounce on the chest.
  6. Then my mom wakes me up at 9 with "Why are you still in bed," with Kitty Princess still sleeping on my chest...
ehh its vacation im not going to complain that much...

Monday, May 27, 2013

Coulda Shoulda, Happy I didn't. I


In less than 36 hours I will go home for two months.

The last time I went home was for 10 days for Christmas, and the time before that was the Christmas before that.

Needless to say I am excited.

This post was originally about how much I love my family and how going home is important no matter how old you are or how long you have been away, but we have all seen enough bad Christmas movies that tell that  tale.

No this is about the future that wasnt.

Three years ago I got a letter.

The type of letter that makes or breaks lives, a college acceptance letter.

When I applied for college I got all my application fees waived so I applied to every school I could, I applied to my local Sac State, all the UC's, and a bunch of art schools. How that happened can be read here.

And like hundreds of thousands of students around the globe I applied to the Ivy league. Its kinda one of those things you do just because every one else does, not actually because you think it will amount to any thing, its like asking the hottest girl in school out, if she says no its no, but if she says yes ohhh you could be in for something most only dream of.

Well I applied along with other members of my class, and then promptly forgot about it.

But someone else didnt.

Friday, May 3, 2013

Crit Week

crit week is killing me...

 I haven't slept this little since I left the department,
     but I haven been sleeping because Ive been working on stuff down in the fashion department...

Its a vicious cycle.

Be a perfectionist-
     get no sleep making things perfect.

Go to bed and live with less than perfect work-
     get no satisfying sleep due to worrying about sloppiness...

So id rather not sleep and be perfect, or try to be perfect because perfectionism is an unfortunate illusion.

Ah I cant wait to finish my shoes and go to sleep.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Now

I want to go to the forrest.
I want to sleep among wooden giants.
I want to see the stars,
 to see the moon,
 and the planets,

To escape the city, just for a night just for a moment.

Just to get away from the everlasting hum of fluorescent bulbs
 to escape the hard unforgiving concrete that surrounds me
 to inhale and smell the earths soft breath

to finally release the tension
set betwixt my shoulder blades

I want to open my eyes and see stars not concrete

I want to inhale the moon, suck up the sea and lay on the rivers lonely coast
to shed the iron flakes that have settled where sunshine once rose, to awaken to a day on a lawn of freshly borne stones still warm from the womb of the earth

Yet here lay in my bed trapped by 17 floors of pure civilization

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Untitled

Sometimes I cant speak.
I can't say what I want. Im thinking the words, they are there in my throat, but I wont let them out. I sit silently listening to you. Im thinking of responses but trapping them in my throat and swallowing them down. You talk to me, telling me your hopes and dreams, but I swallow mine.

I sometimes feel words cannot explain me. I am an intangible catatharsis of self that can only be spoken in a language I don't yet know. So I swallow my words.

As you open your self up to me your words fill my pores, and all I want to do is to reassure you and tell you I feel the same way but words don't let me express my feelings.

I know I need time to meditate on your expressions of self, to find time to discover the language that fits the gap between your words and my feelings. I wish I could just use the words in my head but they don't fully convey the feelings in my soul. I need to find new ones to fit the gap.

So if I don't reply its not that I don't care, Its that I care so much I must explore words to find the perfect language of the birds, to find the words to bridge the gap.

I think I once knew this language, but those who came before you drained it from my self. So I'm left to find something new.

I want to hold your hands and have you know, and have every thing fall into place, but the world doesn't work like that.

Even if it did, everything would fall through the gaps.

So it may take me a while but give me time and eventually Ill find the words and in return maybe you will let me fill you, the way you fill me.

Friday, March 29, 2013

Religion and Food Part III


      I also found my self spending my evenings cooking more and more elaborate dishes. I went from watching Meet Joe Black and eating Mac n' Cheese, to watching the Dalai Lama speak on TED and cooking roast chicken with glazed sweet potatoes and fresh lemonade. I remember watching one of his talks and wishing one of my friends from home would call, and hearing him say "if we all just treated each other the way we want to be treated the world would be a much better place" or something to that effect.
     After hearing that I wondered why don't we apply that idea to more of our lives? Why do we only think of that when we some one who is homeless, or when we see benefit programs to support people in a disaster situation. Why don't we apply that when we are waiting for someone to call, why don't we apply that when we see a friend who you can tell wants to say something but can't. Why don't we empower our selves to call, why don't we tell our friends I can see you want to say something, whatever it is I care about you and always will. Why do we let cultural manners dictate how we conduct our feelings and how we function among others. We don't determine what station we are born into, why discriminate those who were born a different race, nationality, or ability. We don't like being discriminated against why discriminate others.

     I let that moment, the one where I was sitting in my tiny apartment window ledge huddled over a plate of roast chicken and sweet potatoes, to be my epiphany.

     I took it upon my self to let that simple phase be my guiding light:
   
Treat others how you want to be treated

     This simple phase can be applied to everything from helping those in need, to taking a shift for a coworker, to simple things that can make someones day; like buying the meal for the person behind you in the drive through, spending the day watching movies with a sick friend, calling some one you haven't heard from in months, accepting the fact that people make mistakes and letting things go, buying an unexpected gift for a friend or even a stranger.

     While the phrase is simple the idea can be difficult. Sometimes I can't believe the things that people do and I want to get so very very angry, but I remember how hard it is to take responsibility for your mistakes and I let go, if my anger and work towards a solution I can put my energy to better use.

     While this is an idea expressed in Buddhism its only one of the many views. However I am not a true Buddhist. Im not exactly ok with the whole reincarnation idea, I think there is something after death, but Im not sure if its heaven. But the levels to enlightenment thing Buddhists believe in is a little hard to believe in. I believe more in the teachings of the Dalai Lama than Buddhism. He has a really good talk about all paths to god which I am a believer in. I don't care what you believe in, whether it is science, or islam or paganism, or whatever, as long as you strive to do good without hurting others and allow others to believe in whatever they want its good with me.

      So once a week when some people take time out to to to church, or temple or pray with their families, I sit in my apartment cook something delicious and I feed my soul as well as my body. I sit, enjoy the food I am lucky to have, and dedicate an hour or so to fill my soul with positivity. It might be a TED talk or a sermon streaming from the Dalai Lama, an empowering documentary, a youtube clip, whatever. Its not always religious, but it always presents a new perspective or idea.

     So once I fed my soul as a result of feeding my body, but I have come to a place where I feeding my body has just become part of the ritual of feeding my soul.

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Religion and Food Part II


     When I first left home for college I was so excited. Within hours I had best friends and I was totally ready for the freedom of it all and leaving Cali behind for a new adventure. My freshman year was great. I had good friends, great professors, easy classes, and no responsibilities.

     But the one thing I knew I wanted at the end of it all was to be an RA. I had a great RA he was really aware of the students on his floor and took time to get to know us as people. I wanted to be able to open up and be real with people the way he was with us. So I applied, and I didn't get it.

     I was crushed. But I knew the worst thing a person can tell you is No. But, no is just a yes if you are patient. So I looked at my options and I applied to be a summer RA. I got the job but that meant staying the whole summer in Chicago and no seeing any of my friends or family.

     The summer was really hard on me I had fun but I ached for the people I loved and hadn't seen. I felt lost without them. Most of my new college friends left and my friends from home were home so it was just me. There were other summer RA's and we bonded and became friends but there was still ample time for me to sit and wallow in my loneliness.

     I became very depressed. When I am sad and depressed there are only two things that make me happy, good food and good movies. So naturally I watched hundreds of hours of Netflix. I some how stumbled upon this fabulous documentary about the Dalai Lama. It was fascinating. It told the story of his life how he was plucked from childhood to be a living god, and how he used his powers to speak to the world on equality, and morals.
   
     He taught the ideas of Buddhism and how the main world religions have very similar ethical codes, but are taught in different ways. This was a revelation for me.

     My main issue with Christianity was all the ideas veiled in stories, and how it claimed to be the reason for meaning in the world. After more research on the Dalai Lama I learned more about Buddhism the pillars, and the stories. I am not a fan of all of these ethical stories, every religion has them, but id rather the message be straight up, why hide the fact that people should treat each other with fairness and love, why do we need to hide that?