Random thoughts from a Friday night
I never hit Publish now, so this is a bit old, but took the time to write it so here goes:
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I haven’t written in a diary in ages. Tonight I’m actually writing on my laptop that Helen Cho gave me when I was in need. This is the first entry in my new electronic diary—no more dilly dallying with silly paper diary books. More importantly than writing to you from the laptop, I am writing to you from my first second part-time job ever in my life. I have never been able to commit to doing anything “extra” in life than what is required of me. I really shirk responsibility consciously. When I don’t realize it, I may take on extra things in life, but nothing that I can’t back away from on a whim and especially at the last minute.
Looking back on it, I used to aspire to more in life. Before I cared about the opinions of others—no wait, that’s not right. I was thinking about the time that I was a child and tried to do extra things with my time—learn to dance, get into science (loved looking at the stars and into microscopes) –still, I did care about what people thought of me.
At the time, I didn’t care so much about my peers but about authority: mom, older sisters (not really), but above all—my teachers. People use to think that I was teacher’s pet because I tried so hard to please. I didn’t think it was so much to actually complete your assignments on time and with gusto. Somehow, something went wrong and I stopped caring about the teachers and assignments.
Wow. I just had to stop writing this because of 2 things: returning Peeper’s call and calling the cops on this guy who looked like the DC Laundry Room rapist—how funny! Turns out that the rapist was arrested in New Jersey two weeks ago! Oh well. At least I found a way to kill a half hour.
Okay. What was I saying? Oh yeah—when did I stop being ambitious? Why did I stop being ambitious? I notice that when I first undertake projects, I start with a lot of steam and eventually simmer down. Perhaps the first couple of years of my life marked the “steam” phase one of my education. The only thing consistent in my life—that the passion has been unwavering—is my passion for music/dance/entertaining. Now it manifests itself in a growing CD collection—I know, pretty lame. I wish I had more to account for this passion. I also have a passion (obsession?) for men, sex, and appearances—but I was trained to think like this, I think. As a woman, these are the ultimate things in life to care about. I really wish I had a passion for grammar and proper punctuation.
Writing this is so embarrassing. Oddly enough, I used to have a passion for spelling! Now that’s thrown out the window, the only thing I have for this brief phase in my youth is a memory of becoming the second place best speller in the second grade—Eddie Suh? Was that his name? I was so nervous because Shawn Buffington, one grade older (and with a Mohawk!), who was also the love of my life at the time, came into the assembly room with all the other kids in the 1-3 grade half of the elementary, and I was SO nervous. I found myself fumbling with the spelling of the word “easy” EASY! E-A-C… E-A-…S? E-A-C-Y. Easy. FUUUUUUCK! That came out of a girl who knew how to spell soldier and other such complicated words. Easy? Fuck! It haunts me still.
New thought:
At the beginning of this entry, I thought that I hadn’t written in my journal for ages, but POPPY-COCK and oi oi OI! Indeed, I have been keeping a diary of sorts. Each email I’ve written to my british lover boy, my “British Pen-pal”—which is what most of my friends know him by—has been an assortment of my thoughts and the goings-on in my life, like a diary. You know, the thought just hit me—there’s something special about looking back at your diary books and seeing how your writing has changed. Perhaps my writing hasn’t changed much over time, but one big negative about this hear “electronic” diary is that I won’t be able to see this difference and change over time. The only thing I will see with an electronic version are the spelling errors.
Anyway, long story short: my daily emails to Andreas can serve as a journal entry. Perhaps I should copy/paste into this here diary!? Aha! Another plus for internet/electronic technology. This job sucks. It feels like an eternity and I’m only an hour into my shift. I hate skinny people. Just thought I would throw that in as I watch a skinny white bitch, er tenant, leave the building with two cute boys. At least I’m not white.
Oh and another random thought—ABC news (perhaps not a news story?) is showing a huge half hour special on this one Muslim comedian who isn’t that funny. I hear him give his routine and find funnier punch lines and more hilarious jokes. He says he gets people acting all strange around him at airports, punch line: these dudes are like, laughing and say ‘hey man, funny thing, I thought you were going to kill us all”. FLAT. MY punch line: I hate going on flights, I get jumped every time I do everything. It’s like “leave me alone, man. I’m just trying to tie my shoelaces. BACK off!” What do you think? Am I just as lame as this mofo. You know, it’s all about the delivery too. A lot of attitude goes a long long way.
Shit. I gotta take a dump. 
Signing out from utter boredom on a Friday night. Clocking out at 12:02am. Oh, and this is definitely going in my friendster blog!
