— the laid.back buddhist —

Little White Lies

I highly recommend Sony VAIOs. Not one has ever failed in my possession. Instead, I failed them.

That’s right, I’ve managed to destroy my 2nd VAIO notebook, this time in less than a year. Needless to say, at probably the busiest time of the semester, I am royally fucked.

It all started as I was walking out of my Judicial office hours and felt water dripping down the side of my right leg. I dumped everything out on the stairwell nearby, trying not to have a panic attack when I saw a sloshing puddle greet me at the very bottom of my bag. As I pulled my laptop out, water from my bottle was literally dripping raining from it. Sad story short, my laptop did eventually turn back on with some blotchy edges around the screen. Other than that, the screen was in surprisingly good condition…plus, everything else worked fine.

Until…well, until I realized that my AC adapter wasn’t actually charging my laptop.

In horrified denial I watched my laptop go from 40% battery life, to 13%, to 5%…(I held out some hope at 2% because, technically, I have my settings so that if it gets that low, it’s supposed to shut down)…but truth stings with a ominous blip that is the sound of my laptop’s last moment. It refused to be resurrected no matter how many times I pressed that damned power ON button.

Right now, I’m just thankful that I am between projects and didn’t lose any major work. Thankful, that the night before I decided to email my 5 page paper earlier than the Tuesday due date (jeez, when does that ever happen? The Inherent Procrastinator in me is thoroughly confused, yet eternally grateful).

…AND uber-thankful that my first VAIO laptop of 4 years, which sustained major injuries last year due to an accidental trip over an ethernet cord, suddenly decided to expand its minimized 2X3 safe mode screen to a normal full-sized one after sitting in my desk drawer for 8 months. I will accept this freak of nature with no questions asked because it means that for the last 2 weeks of the semester, I’ll at least have working internet, email, and the oh-so-cool program that is Wordpad. Yeah, you know you’re jealous about that last one.

The almost eerie coincidence is that my laptop went kaputt! due to the failures of its owner at the exact same time last year, the week right before April 16th. It’s déjà vu that I’ll be without a fully functioning computer again on that day.

The good thing about this is that my 1-year warranty isn’t up until April 19th. The bad is that Sony doesn’t cover water damage…

But hmm…that’s funny, the interesting thing is that I really don’t understand why my laptop suddenly won’t register charging from my AC adapter. Please fix it…?

*fingers crossed*

Facebook’s bitch

This buying and selling of friends is so very sick.

I LOVE it.

And damned if I don’t get all territorial over friends for the nickname rights (uhh, that’s MY Sexybutt thank you very much). I think a relapse into the addiction that is Facebook is creeping back into my life, so help me God Buddha. To be honest, when Facebook first opened up to all these 3^rd party applications, I got so freakin’ annoyed by the build-up request of triple-digit magnitude for all sorts of wacky things. Overdosed, I completely shut it out. Preferring to keep things to a minimum (so, you know, people can actually find my Wall in a timely fashion), I only have 2 applications: graffiti and glassbooth.

Oh, wait—

…and Friends for Sale, of course.

I thought it was as stupid as it sounded, why the hell would I want to own my friends and bombard them with the very same application invites I so detest to get more fake money to buy even more friends?!?!?!

But apparently I do. Very much so.

Because deep down inside (right beside the Jane Austen/Disney Romantic), I’m a seriously Competitive Bitch who gets high off of smack talk. Yeah, the part of me that has been conditioned to second nature ever since I was 8 and fell in love double-teaming with my dad in pick-up basketball.

Now you’ll have to excuse me as I unceremoniously end this here for it’s been almost 4 hrs since my last login and I need to get my next $2,000 ka-ching!…you see, I’m saving up to buy one of my favorite male professors (a currently unaffordable $102,650 that got me hooked into this whole terrible time-waster Friends-for-Sale thing in the first place!).

You can Facebook me, here.

In Pursuit of Happiness

1. I’m now certified to teach Yoga Level 1…and soon will be teaching classes.

2. Kath accepted VT’s offer and so now one of my most favorite people will be here for my last year!!

3. I know exactly where I want to be in 1 year…seriously hope UW decides to accept me again (you were my first choice for undergrad, I swear!!!)

4. ….oh, and acting silly when you’re supposed to be studying. AND, as if it makes any difference, I’m not the one holding that Easter candy lollipop.

Maybe it’s not a u-turn after all

I want to thank you. For your friendship, patience and humor.

Have wanted to express that sentiment for some time now. Like sudden epiphanies—it was wished for sooner, but came not a moment too late. So I thank you, for having made me both deliriously happy and yet ridiculously scared. You brought out some deep insecurities I hadn’t been aware of and some of the boldest courage I didn’t realize I possessed. But that’s not what I’m going to remember you for…

I thank you, for making me realize that I did not find myself once again but am finding out the person I am going to be.

If change is a continual process, then so is acceptance.

For awhile I had to constantly keep reminding myself of that: those things are different…I am a different person today. Like, I’ll take something really mundane. Say, these new shoes I’m wearing—they’re different. So is the ground, that path I walk on as I take the detour around all that new construction going on around here.

It’s those little things, you see. Those subtle changes speak of a major change in my attitude—whether it’s the new hair color (brown instead of red) or body lotion (lavender instead of rose). Because it all points back to me, being becoming different. Things aren’t the same, and a damned good thing they aren’t. It’s like a you-can-do-it mantra you just have to keep repeating whenever you feel yourself slipping back into self-destruct mode. That, or re-watch Enchanted* for an instant pick-me-upper!

As each day brings me closer to the one year mark…the last week of May (with the biggest hurdle probably being April 16^th), I find myself celebrating those small internal victories no one ever knows more and more often.

And so, I thank you. While remembering to give myself a pat on the back, too.

*Becoming Jane, Ratatouille, Over the Hedge, and Little Miss Sunshine are excellent alternatives as well.

Montreal Men

^yuck! okay, am well-aware that the above is a lame-ass excuse for title, quite unfortunately a lame explanation for that awaits you below…

I’m drowning in all the writing papers I’ve been doing and still have left to do…I almost miss my days of only multiple-choice exams. Except THEN you’d hear me lamenting how re-writing my notes to make study guides and/or notecards is killing my hand, hah!

Either way, it’s a lame (yes, I throw at you yet another!) excuse for lagging in my blogging, I know.

I’d try to remedy this and whip up a post beyond rationalizing excuses, or at least disguise it better (as if that ever works). BUT a part (read: most) of my mind is still in Spring Break vacation mode. Speaking of which…!

Montreal men are damned handsome, WOW.

That is when I was able to look up from making sure I didn’t slip up from all the slush on the sidewalk. Which did happen once! And, of course, at a major intersection…but I like to blame the heavy groceries from the Jean-Talon Market for throwing me off balance. I wonder if a person can fall flat on her butt gracefully. The Eternal Optimist in me likes to think so, but I also happen to have the type of family who laughs first before asking if the bananas and I are okay in the same breath.

I really enjoyed my time in Montreal, though. It’s like the Canadian-French version of Kyoto: unforgettable food, clothes to kill for, very clean, a nice mix of old and modern architecture, and expensive-as-hell more expensive than hell. I feel like the city of Montreal is friendlier than Kyoto, but people in Japan are always super-friendly when you speak Japanese, even if it’s as simple of a phrase as “Mizu kudasai!” (Water, please).

So, anyhow. I got to practice my French (this includes blatantly staring in envious wonderment whenever I overhear an Asian converse in fluent French), gorge on amazingly delicious foods (aka gain 5 pounds, aie!), be mistaken for a Japanese family (twice! Even when we spoke in Chinese to each other at the table!), and oh yeah, admire all the well-dressed, gorgeous men in Montreal. Yum. I def. look forward to going back when the US dollar isn’t being clobbered.

On that note, I shall say good-night. And sweet dreams.