just great. i need to write a fucking paper criticizing a 2-3 minute news segment with arguments from fucking writers i do not understand and fucking topics that are purely abstract to me. by tuesday. and it's sunday night. i'm tired, i'm directionless. but, the difference between this paper and my american studies paper is that.

yes, fucking good god i care.

and i get to go home in 2 days. but the fucking paper must come first. awww fuck.

i just got a thrill out of typing 'fuck' and the many variations of it. okay, well, one variation.

too many times i've wanted to write down my thoughts but didn't get the chance to - too busy scribbling lecture notes, too busy trying not to avoid the masses of people walking out the bart station, too busy not writing, not jotting down instances that can capture a moment that i can look back on, look towards as a sign of progression, growth, maturity? but this time, perhaps i can get most of it down. i hope i can.

listening to jimmy eat world's "my sundown" always makes me think. especially the lyrics that go "i can be so much more than this (no one cares) i want to be so much more than this (no one cares)" ...

so often these days we always end up discussing what we want to do in life, what we want to be, where we want to live, etc. etc. and some people know this, they know it so well as if they already had it mapped out for them. i mean, i listen to eliza say "i want to have an occupational therapy clinic" (i don't know if i got that one right) and richard reply "i'm going to be cooped up in some microchip lab" and i look at them, wonder if that's what they really want or if that's just what they realistically see themselves doing. because quite honestly - i don't have anything drawn out - idealistically or realistically. well, idealistically, i'd like to make tons and tons of money, who wouldn't, but i have nothing concrete, nothing specific that i want to do. it makes me think of the roads i've taken to be where i am, the rejections of dreams, the acceptances of reality and so forth. i came to berkeley as a stats major solely because i loved ap stats in high school. realizing that math in college is nothing like the ap calc of high school, i declared that i want to study business, thinking that my hatred for econ would miraculously slide. halfway through second semester (with a C in intro econ, mind you) i knew i couldn't do it. i mean, everything was so obvious in front of me that i wasn't cut out for business but i refused to believe it - partly because i figured i could make a decent amount of money studying business and partly because i thought i'd grow to like it. but you don't "grow to like things", you just do. and there are those things that come natural to you and those things that your mind just rejects at first glance. i didn't know what the study of mass communications was all about even after i planned the remainder of my time at berkeley to fit the major. but now, three weeks shy of the first core mass comm class i've ever taken, i love it. i don't know whether i found communications or it found me, either way, i'm glad it ended up in front of me. i don't agree with all of communications study, nor do i think it's the best field out there, but i just like it. and i think back, senior year of high school in ap spanish V where quynh and i would fantasize about our crisp expensive designer pant suits, eating caviar at the marble desk of our corner offices, 23rd floor in the most profitable building of a major city. that'd be so great, but it's not what i want anymore. i don't want to sit in an office all day, staring at my computer full of numbers and spreadsheets. i want to walk around. i want to stand. i want to see my office, but not live in it. i want to have the freedom of traversing a huge sound room, a set, a stage. i want to make phone calls to important people in other places, i want to fly across the united states for conferences and meetings. in short, i want to be mobile. and i want to come home to the comforts of an apartment - a nice living room, a slightly larger kitchen with a small island, perhaps a study, and two bedrooms. because at the end of the day, no matter where i've walked or who i've talked to for hours on end and how many studios i've ran across, i'm going to return to the security of the people i love. so yeah, maybe i've just come up with the idealistic model of my future while babbling on. communication/entertainment industry and my best friend at the end of the day. that sounds about right.

i'm tired, i'm about to fall asleep but my hair's wet and i honestly don't want to do anything so, why not, here's another useless blog.

i used to say that while i'm here - rather, in the next few years - i'd like to get my heart broken. shattered. fall in love, feel pain, jealousy, betrayal, utter and complete pain, fall out of love. i begin to wonder if that idea was incredibly naive, or incredibly desperate because i've come to realize that it doesn't take that head-over-heels in love feeling to be hurt. inevitably, we all get hurt and this pain unites us, makes us human, breaks us and has the ability to make us whole again. i think i'm afraid of change, i think it scares me to death and it's starting to really hit me that that is not a good thing. maybe it has to do with the fact that i've lived in diamond bar for 16 years of my life, seen the same people at school, got to know the people that work at the local albertsons, can drive anywhere within diamond bar blvd and pathfinder with my eyes closed. or perhaps it's because i'm an only child and sadly, i've gotten used to getting everything that i've wanted and when i don't - it not only angers and hurts me to a degree that's far worse than i've imagined but it also terrifies me. more and more i'm beginning to think i have serious underlying issues with all these things about me or whatnot, i don't know but i just know i hurt. and i hate hurting.

and then there are those people that will never leave. pillars of support, iron gates, hearts that reach out to try to save mine. without them i'd be gone. and i can't imagine my life without these kids. i really can't. because at the end of the day, it does help a whole lot when you know that there is always someone there you can turn to. it's a damn good feeling kiddos.

i miss home. i'm sick of school. i've been wasting the past two weeks away that i honestly have forgotten all that i worked so hard (okay maybe not "so hard") to imprint in my memory since the beginning of this semester. and there are so many things to miss at home. i can't even begin.

now i've realized that this was a totally crappy blog that reaffirms my nonexistent writing ability to show my true emotions. i rambled, i apologize, but what's there is there. beneath all the subtext and the horrible colloquialisms, there is a honest part of my heart in there. you just have to look hard to find it.

it only lasted for two, three minutes tops. a beautifully sculpted maze of orange, red, and blue. crafted, almost mechanical. definitely not random like miro, or unprevoked like pollack. maybe a bit of melancholy - light orange melancholy, kind of like monet.

i love sunsets. i love sunsets within the backdrop of the golden gate bridge. they're so damn gorgeous. and it relaxes me, regardless of what mood i'm in, what pain is hitting me, what bittersweet cynicism i feel at the moment.

i'll always be a so cal girl (god that sounds banal) but i have to say, the sun setting behind the golden gate bridge might just give sun sets along the pch a run for their money.

since richard has been pestering me to like blog, and not depressingly blog, here i go. so this is going to be like some stream-of-consciousness blabbering, i apologize if i randomly jump from one subject to another. so yes, let's start with saturday. we took christine to sfo, girlfriend's taking a vacation in penn/new york three weeks before finals, can't believe that woman. but she's so damn smart so it's all good. came back to berkeley, went to the poster store with richie, came back to the apartment and went over to eliza's friend ethan's bbq. stayed there for like an hour and half, ate one rib, and left because eliza had to go to a baby shower. so emili and i went to starbucks, chilled, went back to my place and waited for eliza to call us so we'd all go back to ethan's place to drink (eliza's idea, she wanted to feel happy). yeah so as richie tells it, i turned red like a hot tamale after two shots in five minutes and felt kinda dizzy. richie actually let me sorta kinda lay on his shoulder, i swear i either need to be dying or on the verge of dying for richard to let me touch him, of course this is totally non sexual, eww, richard. hahah, no richie, don't worry you'll find love around the corner soon! but yeah, so eliza got really happy and started acting crazy (emi, rich, and i could not stop laughing) and then we headed over to some house party. there was this annoying stupid chinese boy that would not stop hitting on richard and acting like he knows us as if we were good high school friends or something and i swear, if he had said one more word to me or touched me on the arm i would have smacked the living shit out of him, i was so fucking annoyed. *big sigh* moving on.

as i'm writing this on rich's computer, emili is constantly shrieking - she's watching angel, apparently it's some good shit. haha, i don't think so but i'm not going to say anything out loud, shhh, emi's kinda scary if you know what i mean.

i had a great phone conversation last night with angela. i don't even know what time we started talking but i know we hung up at like 6:30 in the morning. maybe like, an hour or so? but yeah, it was a really good talk. thanks =)

and then emili calls at 10:30 because we planned to go to the supermarket at 11 and i was so damn tired but i got up anyway (this goes along with the being scared of her part) so we went to the market, julie bought enough food to feed a third world country for a week (hahah just kidding), got jack in the box, went to the library (nearly fell asleep three times) and came back, cooked and now i'm just sitting here blogging away without a care of school in the world. all i'm thinking about is the practice at 10, yay!

hmm, oh, and i cleaned our bathroom today. freaking let me just tell you, feeling hair - head hair and pubic hair damnit - against my hand is the grossest feeling in the world. but someone had to clean the bathroom and it was getting out of control. it's so clean now, the mirror is so damn clear, no more water stains and toothpaste remnants!

it is kinda quiet without christine around. i have to admit, girl does make us all laugh and put us in a good mood. oh yeah, if you're reading this cowgirl, have fun in new york and philly. at least one of us is having a good time.

shower time, oh man, this blog sounds like it came from richie.

they were sitting behind me in the movie theatre. between the mazes of screaming children and excited adults, teen fans and college kids with a soft side for hogwarts, they stood out. i managed to pull my head back and look every fifteen or so minutes at them because of the magic i saw. the sheer undying amount of loyalty, compassion, love. i watched the one in red lean to her left, sometimes hitting the shoulder of the one in beige, sometimes her head softly landing on the other's, sometimes her hands grasping onto the other's arm. and i saw the moments when they turned to each other and giggled, laughed to each other, remnants of a shared past and a strong present. and they looked at each other, with such an understanding, with everything that's certain in the world, with all the collective beauty that even the seven wonders of the world can't measure up to.

and suddenly, right then and there, i really missed my best friend.

i look at the two of you and admire what you guys share, who you are, what you guys do for each other. it's not everyday you stumble across a friendship that is so definite and so real that when i do, i get taken aback. in many ways you guys have showed me what true and honest friendship is and taught me so many silent lessons to be a better friend. and i do, a lot of the times, get jealous. because you get to share every minute of your lives right now with that one person you most want to share it with whereas the base of my connection is the phone. but i'm not angry though because really, when it does come down to it, i have someone at the end of the day, to go home to. and that is the best feeling in the world. but i just really miss it right now. i really really miss it.

angela, julie. i meant every word and so much more. thanks you two, you'll always be my girls up here.

i've been emotionally drained and really out of it lately. but no matter what, there were people there to comfort me and talk to me and i don't know how else to say it, but thank you, all of you. angela and i had a really good talk up on memorial glade (berkeley campus is much prettier when you sit down and try to avoid staring at evans and cory and all the other buildings). it was just, one of those...talks that i really needed to pick me up a bit. even though it seems like forever till i will be fully standing again, it helped. thanks bronto, you know i'll be here for you.

i thought i could write a semi-decent blog right now, but i guess i can't. so i'll try to do this later, when i'm in a brighter mood.

party up, it's a friday night.

i'm starting to really really regret not caring about my american studies paper. because i'm terrified of getting it back - i swear to you, this time i'm not lying, it was incredibly utterly completely probably the worst thing i've ever written. or cared about. damn you eri, you should have just cared.

on a side note, a heartfelt thanks for my wonderful roommies who have instilled in me the incapability of sleeping until 4:30 in the morning. remind me to thank you guys, hah.

to my counterpart in san diego: everytime i doubted myself, you told me otherwise. everytime i hated my writing, you gave me the determination i needed to make it better. everytime i didn't do so well on a midterm, you were there to listen to me rant and rave continuously. everytime i fell, you were there to pick me up. everytime i cried, you gave me a shoulder for my tears. everytime i was sad, you made me smile.

and for all the tears to come, for all the memories we will create, for the happiness that is in store for you, for everything and anything that the world will bring upon us, here's to the past two years, everything in between, and all that is to come.

you were there for me. as i will be there for you. make me proud girl. i'm counting on it.

this is going to sound super hypocritical of me but let's just say, erika had quite some fun tonight. it started harmless, emi and christine sipping skyy blue and suddenly julie blurted out "let's take a shot" and of course, i don't know what drugs i was on but i eagerly chirped in an "OKAY!" and then, somehow emi and christine became convinced they wanted a shot and after that, it just spread. somehow i ended up taking shots, emi and christine went a little overboard and even mellow richie took some! (but he's still mellow anyhow)

i had fun guys. even though in the back of my mind, my nonexistent research paper still pounded at my head, it was worth it. i'll just bullshit it all tomorrow. but it was a lot of fun. next week girls? =)

i don't think i said anything really outrageous or did anything really out there, but i sure as hell was a lot more friendly and happy than my usual self. and emi, hahah, for now, it'll be between us (and everyone else in your room). but i got to tell you, it was hilarious.

listen as the wind blows
from across the great divide
voices trapped in yearning
memories trapped in time
night is my companion
and solitude my guide
would i spend forever here
and not be satisfied?

and i would be the one
to hold you down
kiss you so hard
i'll take your breathe away
and after i wipe away the tears
just close your eyes dear

through this world i stumble
so many times betrayed
trying to find a honest word
the truth enslaved
you speak to me in riddles
and you speak me in rhymes
my body aches to breathe your breath
your words keep me alive

so richard just said something along the lines of "i don't understand how anyone can be an alcoholic". and i was sitting there, at our kitchen table preciously holding my cup of water drinking it furiously because i'm incessantly thirsty, not understanding either how alcohol could taste so good or the feeling it generates be so good to someone. ah, weak pathetic erika downed a skyy blue in like five minutes because she was so damn thirsty and ten minutes later, turned red as a cherry tomato and began to feel sick. and now, after she basically passed out for an hour, she's recovering.

god in high school i tried to build my tolerance and liked alcohol. maybe because that was because it was high school. i don't know but i know now that i really don't like it because it doesn't taste any good and it makes me feel like this. like. crap.

so the first time i really got anywhere near drunk was during my cousin's wedding before senior year. i know it started with champagne which my mother gave to me. the it was red wine because good lord they even had it at the kid's table, and moments later, the waiter delievered white wine to our table - did he not see that there were 10 year olds there? and then after a few glasses of that, i distinctly remember one of my cousins, drunk already himself, pull me to the bar for a beer since "you gotta have one of these experiences". and you know, it actually felt good then. being buzzed. and my dad, standing 30 feet away with this classic expression on his face upon seeing me and my cousin laugh holding beck beer bottles.

no i'm not drunk. i would have to be insanely weak to be drunk after one skyy blue.

changing subjects. i think i have like horrible timing or something. because it seems like everytime i venture out to the living room at this hour, my roommates are busy typing away on their computers. and when i leave five minutes later, i hear talking and laughter. and i'm really beginning to wonder - am i that boring? do i not have anything interesting to say? because seriously, i don't think people find it intriguing to talk to me. and if they did talk to me, perhaps they might learn something, something they wouldn't expect. or maybe the image i put out to people begs for silence.

and somehow i lost my train of thought. because i've been interrupted. pardon me.

oh damn rain. make it sunny so it'll motivate me to write my research paper! this is bad. this is really bad. i've never waited until the final weekend to write a research paper. yeah, till now. shows how hard i've been working this semester.

on a different note, let me just say that from now on i'm gonna have to wake up twenty minutes earlier for a lot of blowdrying and a lot of hair waxing. (and this is the part where i wink at you) so. [wink, wink]

i want to. get away. from here.

remember how i was discussing my desk exploding? now enola gay has come yet again to drop another bomb. why? because my desk has become richard's desk. his credit card bill has been sitting in the same place for about a week now and once i bring him his new bills and various assortments of stuff, it just doesn't seem to leave my desk.

i'm so tired. and 8 o'clock tomorrow morning? noooo. considering not going. that's one thing i can pride myself on. (not that it helps me get good grades, but nonetheless) fall semester? yeah, i attended every single 8 o'clock discussion i had, tuesdays and thursdays, oh yay, i'm on top of the world.

i had something meaningful to say. that was before, when i was driving richie's good ol' previa around and it felt so good to drive! i think i miss my car so much even the previa started to feel like a 4runner. it's supposed to rain tomorrow. damn, i hate rain. but well, it brings snow which hopefully means fresh powder and cold weather means being able to dress up in long winter coats and scarves! i kinda actually like this experiencing the seasons change kinda thing.

felicity time. a big thanks to my roommate who bought the season I dvd's!

i promised myself i would post something insightful one of these days like christine (i said your given name, mind you, but we all know her true name begins with a 'chunk' and ends with a 'ster'). today's not it though, moving on.

i miss home. don't laugh at me, it's been three weeks! after awhile you just want to go some place where berkeley doesn't exist and well, in diamond bar, the only trace of berkeley is us, all ten or so of us. i just suddenly got that pang of missing home when i was trying to wipe the grease off our stove. it freaking wouldn't come all the way off but if i were home, not only would it had come off, but my dad would have cleaned it anyway! it's so clean at home, i swear my parents are anal. if you think i'm bad, meet mr. and mrs. clean-shao. seriously. i talked to my mom on the phone today, she called like three different times. i told her what classes i registered for and hope to register for and she gave me the usual, "i know you'll do well" and "oh, what is that about?" and "well, i said already you can do what you want but remember you need to specialize later on" and blahblahblah. remember, this is all a melange of chinese and english so indeed it sounds even more motherly. at least it's a change from whenever my dad calls. most the time it's usually "how's it goin dude?" to "it snowed in mammoth" or "are you still a psycho major?" i'm serious, my dad thinks i'm the biggest failure in the world. the two dreams he had for me really never existed. one, i quit softball after 6th grade (now i don't seem to truly understand why) so there went his dream of me being an all-american at stanford, ucla, arizona state, whatever the best softball team is in the pac10. two, i don't ever remember being interested in science so i could have never found the cure for aids. what good ol' daddy's gonna get is just some psycho comm major who will ultimately find some remote way of making him proud. maybe i'll devote my life to snowboarding. that oughta stir him up a bit.

digression! oh well, i'll call it the erika stream of consciousness for the day.

my desk has exploded on me. i look at it and it kind of depresses me. because a couple months ago if it even got a little cluttered and a bit unorganized, i would have immediately restored it back into place. but now, papers are scattered, random things still making their home in the growing pile of dust layered over everything. looking at it more, it's really getting to me. i'm just going to blame it on richard making his home in my room. stupid boy, too lazy to fix his ethernet card that broke like two weeks ago. i woke up this morning to him snickering. isn't that sad? i was merely sprawled out on my stomach and he snickers loud enough to wake me up.

i have a damn anthro test tuesday and i don't think i can handle it anymore. all this monkey business and memorizing stuff i had to memorize like in 6th grade science! hello precambrian era, hello paleozoic. okay, perhaps it's not that horrible. i think it's just my teacher. he's got this nasal monotonous voice and speaks to us like we're in the fourth grade. i've given up going to lecture. all right, back to the platyrrhinis - the flat nosed new world monkeys. oh joy.

her heart pounding, she quickly wipes the sweat that has started to creep down her brow. breathing a deep sigh, giving her brand new dkny midnight blue suit one last tug (quickly she wonders why she even made such a purchase), regripping her briefcase, she finally gets the courage to take a step forward and enter the fifty story building in the heart of century city. in the elevator she nearly drops her project proposals five times. sweat begins to linger upon her neck. her heart won't stop racing. jesus, when did she think she could even go this far?

it's april, 2008. she's 25. she came back to LA four years ago, welcomed the comforts of sunshine, smog, horrible traffic back into her life. visits her parents at least once every two weeks and everyone else that has found their way back to LA. fell for some sweet talking bastard, again. wallowed in disappointment, failed an essential communication law test and spent the rest of the semester living at the library to finally attain a B plus. spent countless hours in the law library frantically searching for cases, doing research for a law professor. even slept once there, waking up to the janitor's boom box. knew what real studying finally meant, not skimming books, reviewing notes but reading textbooks twice, scrutinizing each and every word the professor said hoping it would be imprinted in her hippocampus for at least the next day. and perhaps she found love manifested in that boy with the intense eyes who sat across from her in her global policy class. and it was real, he was real, and soon enough, he left. broke her heart. but gave her every reason to believe that there is something concrete out there, something so simple that it had to be love.

so she remembered that boy while she was in the elevator. remembered his soft touch, his warm embrace. the way he'd stoke her hair in the moments they stole while sprawled on the living room floor, textbook after textbook opened, papers scattered. and what he said to her, under that huge oak tree in front of the library, that touched even the darkest corners of her heart, previously uncharted. she remembered all this as she went up thirty eight stories. and as the elevator door swung open, she was smiling.

---- my rather romanticized and idealistic way of how my life will turn out. gives me something to believe in right?