Dive

I found myself in the bottom of the age rut.

It's a government-issued-well-lit-with-fluorescent-lights type of room equipped with standard metal desks and matching muted file cabinets. Everything is laid out in perfect order - all you have to do is cross the T's and dot the I's. Simple, mindless... boring.

We go along in our bodies like robots. We are told that our "good girl" days abruptly end at puberty which is the time to start the rebellion. This anti-parental uproar lasts well into our teen years, only to be re-directed at The Man after the age of eighteen. Our second decade of life is supposed to be filled with alcohol, drugs, casual sex with random strangers, sexual experimentation, and late night confessions with girlfriends over fast food. This time is also supposed to be filled with an insatiable thirst for knowledge, and built in perseverance to make it through college and or grad school. We are supposed to find our soul mate during this decade and have a predetermined cookie cutter wedding in our families' choice of religion while working on starting pop out kids before the big 3-0.

Once we hit that sudden decade shift, things are supposed to change. Wrinkles form, flesh sags, and backs get sore. We're also supposed to have figured it all out by then - know what we want to spend the rest of our lives doing, be a house owner, maybe pop another kid out. We're expected to live the Great American Dream of having a family life while balancing a social one. The rest of our lives are considered not to be our own, but revolving around our children which become the soul purpose of our lives (generally filled with soccer games, PTA meetings, and incessant whining). We are instilled to think that we must pass down the familial dreams and beliefs that we bestowed upon us.

And yet, here I am, twenty three with a brain-wracking history of mental health issues, self-fulfilling prophecies, and $6.43 in my bank account. While all my former peers are checking off items on those age lists, here I am sitting on a cliff of fear, wonder, and shame. Why do we hold ourselves to these mandated age lists? What is the function of words like "should", "expected" and "supposed to"? Why are there all these unspoken age limit rules about MY life? And more than that, why do these things prey on my gullibility to believe that this is real? Why do I hold MYSELF to these standards?

The alternative life is beyond that aforementioned cliff. It is past the paperwork, and the dim, flickering fluorescent lights. It is past the lines of my peers with indifferent and passive facial expressions, matching their approach to life. It takes unspeakable amounts of courage to plunge into the dark abyss of the future unknown.

So here I go, feebly tossing my fragile human ego into the deep journey downwards. I'm going to learn things along the way - like motivation, confidence, and ultimately self-acceptance. I've taken a trip in the right direction - living a simpler life and coming to terms with that. I am going to be proud of working at a corporate grocery chain, giving helpful customer service while earning minimum wage, even though I hold a flimsy piece of paper saying that I know a bunch of shit about accounting. This is how it starts. And maybe one day I'll be proud I'm not sitting at a government-issued desk, checking off things on an outdated age list. I think I'll just make a new one.

OHHHHHHHMMM

So, in about 64 hours, i'll be on a plane (hopefully in first class) headed to California to spend some time with my aunty. This is kind of a last-vacation-i'll-get-where-i-can-dick-around-and-do-whatever trip before I start my アルバイト (job). Since i've started up watching strange anime again, i've been brushing up on my にほんご(Japanese). すみません、おれがへんです (Don't mind me, i'm weird).

Anyway, next week is also thanksgiving, and my anniversary. I am taking almost two weeks off starting Saturday to really think about the things I cherish most in my life. I have to re-align myself internally to fix things externally. I'm going to be doing a lot of thinking on this trip regardless of what I actually do (stay up late chitter chattering, playing with dogs, ripping my muscles YEAH FISTPUMP).

Also, i'm excited because this time of the year means the mainland gets cold! I can't wait to feel what "cold" is. さむいーくん (Cold-kun)!どうぞよろしくおねがいします(It's nice to meet you, please take care of me)!

What I should be doing:

What I probably will be doing:

In the off chance that you don't read hiragana, the first picture says "OHHHHHM" and the second one says "Zumba! Shall we go? Um... it's cold, isn't it?... It's warm right here... I can't get up" :) The thing next to the dog says "Echo-chan" and the thing next to my hand says "Glove". :3

I probably won't be around for thanksgiving, so... Happy Thanksgiving! :)

LALALALALALA~

So........ since I don't have anything of real substance to write about right now, here is a list of things I should do today to make myself a productive member of society:

1. Laundry. I tend to wait and wait and WAIT until I have absolutely NOTHING to wear. Flip underwear inside out or go commando. Use sports bras and ugly tops and shorts that no longer fit me. Be uncool for a week. Or simply, just not go out. I do all of this before I actually do laundry. I'd like to think that if I had one of those in-unit washer and dryers, i'd do laundry a lot more often. But the laundry machines are only one flight of stairs below me. When I moved here, I thought i'd be doing laundry ALL the time since I didn't have to drive to a laundromat. I was wrong. :)

2. Dishes. I usually try to pass this job off to Michael, which usually works - it's pretty much the only thing I ask him to do around the house (other than earn income, that is). But my sink is now typically overflowing with dishes and we have no utensils to use anymore. Our sink backs up now (we think our landlord may have forgotten to warn us about maybe emptying the trap? It looks like it used to be a disposal system, but there are no blades or switches), which makes doing dishes FAAAAABULOUS. I love the smell of rotting food and soap. Yum. So i've been diligently avoiding the dishes, too.

3. Pay my phone bill. I could call this in, but I do everything online. This would be seemingly easy, but you don't UNDERSTAND. Once I open the internet, my brain goes into ADD overdrive.
"Okay, I have to go to Verizon's web page to pay my bill. Okay. Oh, I should check if they sent me an e-mail first."
*checks e-mail*
"OMG these shoes are hella cute from DSW. I should checkout their website later. AFTER Verizon. Okay."
*log onto Verizon website, accidentally clicks bookmark to imgur*
"LOL that is sooo funny... I should post this on facebook"
*87324987 pages later...*
"What was I doing again? Hmm."
*Logs onto forums, chat chat chat*
"Ah, i'm tired."
*Play with bunny and nap*

4. Go for a walk. I should do it. Buttttttt there is just so much left that I haven't done at home! The aforementioned few, and also a billion bajillion things on the internet. I have to do ALL the things. Also, i'm lazy. And I don't want to go out. I'll have to - i've gotta bring Michael to work. Maybe i'll go for a drive after that. But for now, I'm really stoked I have internet, cereal, and PJs at the same time, and I shall rejoice in my pantsless, milky wonder. :)

Life. Right now.

There have been so many times i've wanted to write something on this blog in the last few months, but I just couldn't find the right words to say. I was afraid of all the possible things people might say ' "She's crazy" or "She's just looking for attention". But I think i've come to the point where i'm ready to whisper all the things that have been inside my brain over the last few months. I guess the question then becomes, are you ready to listen?

I get a lot of mixed responses from people when I tell them I've had an anxiety disorder for about as long as I can remember. It ranges from "What? really? I would have never guessed." to "Ahhh, so THAT'S why you do that!". When I was 11 years old, my life changed forever in ways that I cannot even begin to describe. Long story short, I went to see some doctors that diagnosed me with an anxiety disorder, along with ADD (primarily inattentive type, not hyperactive). The doctor's gave us a report of my assessment in 1999, saying that I was also predisposed to having depression, because I had also previously shown signs of it starting from age 9. However, this is not some sob story about my life. Every single neurotic tendency of mine shaped me into who I am today. I have family and friends that love and support me, so I am forced to take these diagnoses with a grain of salt. If I truly was a terrible person, I would have friends that love me as much as they do. This says something about my character. Despite having irrational fears and a serious lack in self-esteem, people love me for me. Though it's really hard for me to accept that, it's the truth. I am loved and have good reasons to be.

The truth about helping myself is a hard lesson for me. Deep down, underneath logic lives a monster inside of me. That monster whispers things like "You are crazy for seeing a therapist" or "You don't deserve to be happy". But even though it is saying these things, it's like a whisper in some other language that only my heart can understand. I don't know why this monster exists, but I need to accept that it's there for a reason - or at least accept that I created it and let it into my soul to protect me. It's like it was once a blanket - soft and fluffy - that shielded me from the world and it's evil. It was comfort. Over time, I grew up, so that blanket tried to morph itself to grow up like me. It sprouted legs and arms; eyes and ears. And although it remained close to my heart, it didn't actually grow with me, it mutated in me. But underneath the scary eyes and the sharp claws is a seed of ultimate comfort, which is why it's so hard to face and defeat this monster who was once my only friend.

I'll admit, i've judged others for not following the preset path for all people my age. But now i'm starting to understand that maybe it's not so important anymore. I am taking this time in my life for growth and correction. I am seeking help. I am enlisting an army to help me fight this boss-monster in me. I have two choices. Fight or run. But there comes a point when running from myself only results in my untimely death. So, it's fight or die. And there are things that I still want to experience. Marriage, kids (someday), finding a career that I love. Seeing different parts of the world. So I am choosing to fight. My arsenal doesn't consist of guns and manpower, but therapy and medication instead. This is where the judgement comes in. But in the end, ignorance will always be fear and shame covered by ego. I am getting help for myself and my future. What are you doing for yourself by labeling me?

Imagine a life without limitations. Money, fear, obligation, social stigma and ignorance don't matter. What would you do? Aren't you worth taking that chance? It's been a long time since I realized this. I feel like i'm only now coming out of a long sleep, where everything was hazy and nightmarish. I feel like i'm thinking clearly, like I'm normal again. Medication holds an enormous amount of power and risk, but for me it holds a huge payoff. For the first time in over a decade, I feel normal. I feel confident, happy, and balanced. And most of all I don't feel crippling anxiety. I am at the bottom of my little hole. I can only progress upward, slowly grasping one brick at a time, pulling myself up and out, leaving behind shame and guilt for not being perfect to my unachievable standards. There have been so many hands along the way to help me up and even though I don't want to accept those hands for fear of getting them dirty, or pulling them down from the sheer weight, they always surprise me. They can pull, too.

Right Outside My Apartment

4:45 am. I'm rolling over, trying to find a good spot in my bed. My shoulder hurts from being in one position all night. What woke me up? Oh, that quickly approaching siren. Wait a second, it stopped right outside my apartment. I wonder what's going on? Is it someone in my building? I open my eyes, and see blue flashing lights dancing on the walls of my room. I get up, put a shirt on, and open the jealousy on my front door. Wow, there are a lot of cops outside. I count five cop cars and one firetruck. What's going on? I see the firemen and a few cops huddled over something... a body? I can't see, where are my glasses? After some rummaging, I find my glasses and resume my watch. An ambulance has arrived. Should I go down there to get a closer look? That's probably disrespectful. But I open my door and watch from the safety of my balcony anyway. It's right there. That person is lying on the crosswalk right there. I just walked there yesterday. I don't see a damaged car, so I conclude that it was a hit-and-run. Scum of the earth, I think. Hit-and-runners belong with deadbeat parents, drug addicts and the like - too scared to take responsibility. The ground must be wet from the rain. Is the person alive? Is my brain just making up a story that isn't true? Maybe it's just a minor laceration or a concussion. But the person isn't moving. And they're lying down. It must be bad. The two paramedics are next to the person now, opening their bag and moving quickly. It looks like they're doing something that uses movement. Are they doing CPR? It's right outside my apartment. Someone is dying right outside my apartment. If it was yesterday, or tomorrow, i'd be on my way to boot camp. It could have been me. I could have seen it. I could have done something, maybe. I see them lift the person up onto the gurney. They wrap him up in the white sheets, but don't cover his face. I exhale a sigh of relief. So he's not dead. I can't see if he's intubated, or if that person is even a he. They close the ambulance doors. There's a man and a woman (I thought she was a child at first) near the crime scene (which is less than 10 feet away from my car). I don't know if they know the person, or maybe they're just being good samaritans. When the ambulance door closes, they walk away, talking to someone in a car that just drove up across the street. I don't think they know the person, but i'm glad they were there to call help. I wonder what will happen now? The ambulance takes off, and one by one the police cars leave. I wonder what the story was? I walk back inside to the still life of my apartment, shutting the door silently behind me. My bunny is sipping on some water as I head back to bed. It's 5:03 am now, what am I doing awake? I debate whether I'm sleepy enough to rejoin my fiance in bed, or just stay awake. I slip beneath the blanket next to a warm body, still alive, still breathing, and thank my lucky stars that it wasn't us on that wet pavement right outside my apartment.

I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.

The end of an era has come, and it's so bittersweet.

I saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 last night, and it was awesome. Not only was the movie awesome, but the people were too. It was sort of like Halloween for dorks like me, minus the candy, plus the popcorn. I was lucky enough to get invited by Michael's college friends with access to reserved seating. They are the sweetest bunch of Harry Potter dorks that I could nerdrage with. :)


We started the night off with butterbeer jello shots which were awesome, might I add. Making our way through the crowd and making the journey to Starbucks let me get to know some of these people. Reika was older than she looked (older in age + cosplay = hella cool! I hope i'm still nerdy like this when I hit that age too), Amanda is the awesomest for making her Auror jacket herself, and Tash can apparate (lolololol). Also, I met Sam tonight and recognized her from elementary school! It's a small island.


We made our way back, took some pictures, and got everyone situated to go inside. There was a ginormous line, snaking up the stairs and lined up all the way around the block. I've never been so happy to have reserved seating. Michael and I stood in line for our obligatory enslavement to theater popcorn (and mochi crunch!), and found ourselves behind a guy that had "I DID NOT READ THE BOOKS" on his hat. Ah, that guy was sure missing out on life.

The movie itself was awesome, as all Harry Potter movies go. I won't spoil anything, but I did get a little misty-eyed during Snape's part. Oh, poor Snape. The underdog. Anyway, I thought the movie was great, but the ending was a little of a let down. They did change a few things, but they were understandable. My butt was numb from sitting there for just 2.5 hours. After the movie, we stuck around a little bit and said our goodbyes.

A decade has gone by, and I can't believe the journey is over. Harry Potter was my age when I started reading the books, and I sort of feel like I grew with him. Granted, i'm not a witch, but it's a true testament to how books can really take you anywhere. It's sad that we'll never see another Harry Potter film again, or read another book, but I hope that the future generations have something to become enthralled with beyond Twilight (i'm such a hater, lol). Something beyond romantic love stories - something substantial about good and evil, right and wrong, friends and enemies.


And in tribute -

... Mischief managed.

Skinny, Crispy, Nori-less Spam Musubi

It's been too long since i've written something meaningful, and trust me i've tried to rectify that. But this is not that post. Instead, I am going to let you peek into my kitchen and give you a quick, cheap, authentic local delicacy.

SPAM.

I'm sure if you live in Hawaii, you know what this is and have had a million different kinds of musubi. It would be weird if you didn't know what it was. But I bet you've probably never had it without nori.

Now, a lot of people will argue with me, saying it's not a "real" musubi without the nori. They think it's basically spam and rice, just molded into a little ball thing. Well, yeah, sure. But it's still a "real" musubi. What about musubi with ume in the center? I've seen many "plain" ones without a shred of seaweed. And technically, this musubi is nori-less, but NOT seaweed-less.

Ingredients:
- 1 can of SPAM (I like to use the less sodium version, since there will be lots of flavor added)
- Teriyaki Sauce (You can buy it bought, or make your own with soy sauce, sugar, and mirin (optional))
- 3 cups of white rice (You can substitute brown rice if you'd like, but the original recipe calls for white)(This yields 12 musubi)
-Furikake (I use the Mishima brand Nori Komi Furikake, which has sesame seeds in it)
- Saran Wrap
- Musubi maker (optional)

Prepare:
- Tear and lay 15 slices of saran wrap (5 inch x 5 inch pieces... though that may be too big, I just kind of wing it).
- Cut the spam into thin slices (about 12-15). This is where the "skinny" part comes in. These musubi will be flatter than the average spam musubi.
- Cook 3 cups of rice.
- Make the teriyaki sauce, and pour it into a bowl.
- Dip each slice into the sauce, and let it marinate for a few seconds, to a minute.

Directions:
- Fry the spam until crispy and browned (I do like mine slightly burned).
- While frying, empty the rice into a large bowl to cool off.


- Rinse your musubi maker (this helps the rice not to get stuck to it).
- Set up your musubi maker in the spot on the saran wrap where you'll want to place the musubi. I chose the right side, in the middle, but now that I think about it, the left side would have probably been better.


- Remove the spam from the pan/griddle after they are cooked and put them on a plate.


- Take a handful (or scoopful) of rice, and load it into the molder. I use less rice than most, contributing to the skinny factor. Since I have skinny slices, the rice should be proportionate. Mess around with it and make it how you like it.


- PRESS HARD. You do not want your musubi falling apart, especially because you have no nori holding it together.


- Take a spoonful of the leftover teriyaki sauce in your bowl, and dabble some on the rice for extra flavor.



- Sprinkle some furikake on the rice over the sauce.


- Put a piece of spam on top and wrap (or enjoy!).


I don't make this too often because the nutritional value isn't great, but it's nice to get back to childhood sometimes. Having a spam musubi just the way I like it transports me through time and space, back to fun summers, friends, and family. Live aloha. :)

I'm... Engaged?

"There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged, to find the ways in which you, yourself, have altered." - Nelson Mandela

This weekend was AMAZING. Unexpected, yet anticipated, my boyfriend of eight years proposed to me on Friday evening.

I don't want to go into the details of the proposal. I didn't take any pictures of the things that were done. I want that moment to be sealed forever in his and my thoughts, alone. It was something special, and intimate, and even though key people will know how it happened, I didn't want any pictures from these few special days (other than the obligatory ring and hand pictures).

Of course, I wanted this to happen. I knew many years ago that I wanted this to happen. Many people aren't surprised, but i'm more surprised in myself than I thought I would be. I expected to feel overjoyed and happy, then go back to our lives, plain and simple. Technically, what would change? We're sporting rings on our finger (yes, him too) but that's the only difference. We'll go back to work, we'll go back to school, we'll go back to our apartment and live life how we've always been living it. But, it's different.

I can't tell you the ways in which it's different. I look at Michael differently. I look at our lives differently. Sure, it's only been a few days, but this feeling isn't even slightly tapering yet. Maybe it will in a week, a month, a year, but really, are we the same people? I don't think we are. We've entered into a transitional time, of sealing our bond with each other. Sure, i've known for a long time that he's "the one" but these rings make it so different, beyond any words I can describe.

We were at Barnes and Nobles yesterday in the Manga section, and there was a kid there (can't have been older than 18) that said "Wow, adults in the Manga section! That's cool." and I couldn't help but laugh and feel slightly appalled. Wait now, who's the adult here? I swear to god i'm still fourteen. Or sixteen. Or even nineteen! Suddenly I feel toooo old, WAY too old. Did he notice the rings on our fingers or was it just us? I'm pretty sure he didn't notice, and that means we LOOK like adults? What?

Here's to the next couple years. Here's to the beginnings of a great time, a stressful time, an important time in our lives.

Ganbarimasu.

Woe is me and all that jazz.

So, (I swear to god I always start my posts off with "so") I've neglected this blog worse than a Christmas fruitcake around mid February. My poor SEOTS blog was SEOTSed by the SEOTSer. I am indeed a terrible person.

I'd like to say that I was working on some grand project, taking all of my time, earning me loads of cash. I'd also like to say that I was some kind of FBI agent, working undercover, booking the bad guys and saving the world. I'd love to share that I was actually sent back through time, chatting it up with the brontosauruses (they're actually assholes) and living it up with the cavemen (not as scruffy as you think, in fact, they could be the first metrosexuals). And as much as i'd like to tell you about all these things, I can't. They sadly didn't happen (I never stop wishing though!).

Since the last post, a whole lot of nothing happened. School, work, life. Life happened. Stuff happened. Shit happened. To tell you the truth, if I narrated the last few months in my blog here, it will bore you to death. On a personal level, i've learned a lot. I'm in a different mindset. I'm eventually gonna change my mindset. So i'm not gonna tell you about that.

Things you probably don't need to know about me, but i'm gonna tell you anyway:

- Still in school, and drowning miserably.
- Still nuts.
- Still working full time (and earning petty cash =/).
- Still a smarmosaur.
- Still loving nail polish (moving onto decals soon, omg).
- Still fighting acne, but it's getting better! :)
- Still trying to gain blog readers (please feed me your souls? pretty please?)
- Still making lists (like this one!).

And to conclude this unnecessary blog post, I just want to sincerely apologize to all my friends. I've been avoiding pretty much everyone (for good reason), and i'll explain why later (I'm a zombie, I don't want to infect you). Please bear with me for the next few months, and i'm sure things will get better (they seem to have found the antidote).

Still living the SEOTSed life,

PinkStar26

Tips for my Consciousness-Deficient Fellow Desk Job-ers

I'm not a particularly frequent napper. I usually sleep well at night, anywhere from 7-9 hours, so I generally don't need a nap during the day.

However, it's been rainy lately, so my sweater tops and hoodies make their yearly debut out of my closet 'round this time. These items are soft, and warm... and feel particularly comforting when it's cold out.

Also, my schedule consists of school in the morning, then work from noonish to around 9pm. It's quite a boring job - but i'm not complaining. During downtime I have moments to "surf the web" (gawd, does anyone still use that term anymore?), pick at my nails, and study. After I become satisfied with the state of my cuticles, I usually get quite bored, and start to get rather sleepy. Sometimes I can feign off slumber, but sometimes it just becomes a necessary evil.

On this particular Thursday, I have a headache, and the overcast sky outside my window is extremely bright, causing me to squint more often than not. This makes for a deadly combo. I usually don't get headaches, because I think i'm teething today. I usually just sleep off the headache, but it's much more difficult here at work.

Some tips for the awake-challenged people at work:

1. Try running in circles like a maniac to get your heart pumping. If that doesn't work (or freaks people out), proceed immediately to step #2.

2. Two words: Starbucks Doubleshot. But only once in a while, or it's potency will be ineffective. Use the force wisely!

3. NEVER put your head on your desk, unless you're at a workplace that's cool about sleeping. If you are at a workplace that's cool like that, please message me the company info, and alert me if they're hiring.

4. Do not lean back in your chair for a snooze. You're kind of just asking for it. Especially if you lose control of your jaw function, a sneaky co-worker ninja could come by and slip a warhead into your mouth or something. Maybe a bug. That would be mean. Also, it's the wrong trajectory for your eyelids. You need to be looking DOWN to pretend you're awake.

5. If you MUST sleep, you have to remember to hide your snoring. Play some music (rock or maybe hip hop) to hide your palatal noises.

6. Put down an important-looking document, or a book in front of you on the desk. Put your elbow on the desk, and put your chin/jaw area on your palm. Position your head as if you are reading the paper. If available, use your bangs (fringe) over your eyes and snooze away. You may become so relaxed that your head starts to loll around on your neck, causing that gradual sinkage, and the jerk-y snap back up. As long as no one sees this you're fine. If you're in a shared office, make this motion very small and undetectable.

7. While in the aforementioned position, I constantly like to switch it up and put my four fingers on my forehead, and my thumb on my temple, and hold my head up that way because it looks like i'm focusing really hard, and that my work is stressing me out. Brownie points! My side bang also helps.

8. If the desk situation isn't working out for you, you can always take a snooze on the toilet. It's kinda like multitasking. Personally I don't wanna sleep where I shit.

9. If you have a break coming up, or maybe a lunch, you can always opt for sleeping in your car. If you don't have a car, you can sleep in someone else's car. Someone is bound to have one. Or perhaps a bench somewhere, but then you risk looking like a bum. Also, benches are getting all anti-bum nowdays. They have those separators now. Poor bums.

10. Have a mirror close to your desk. If someone comes in and needs you to be conscious, you should always be aware of any red, tired looking eyes, or red marks from your hand anywhere on your face. You can cover those up with makeup if you're a girl, or make up some hilarious god-awful story like "ohhh ummm an alien seagull uhhh smacked me in the face while I was uhhh doing this spreadsheet! yeah, totally rude, man!".

That last line always works, I tell you.

PinkStar26