Miss traveling and getting to know new cultures, societies, people. Miss the snow and celebrating different important dates (Rosh Hashanah, Thanksgiving, Dragon Boat Festival...).
Miss having four different seasons; thunderstorms, and even the random blizzards in July and tornado watches.
Miss having the time to learn languages, to read academic books for pleasure, to use good public transportation, to visit museums after work for free, to witness spontaneous shows on the street, to be able to leave my bag unattended at a coffee shop to go to the restroom and still find it there when I return...
Miss seeing the world not because I was on vacation, but because it was what I was supposed to do.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Patience
Years ago, I was known for my patience. However, as times passes by, I feel I'm very quickly losing it. I don't know if it's because I'm getting older or if people are becoming more annoying or more idiotic.
I like things done quickly and effectively. If there's a problem, I try to come up with a solution and solve it. I appreciate people asking me questions to know if certain things should be done in this or that way. But it drives me insanely mad if someone comes and asks me something they know the answer to. It drives me even madder when I reply with a "what do you think?" and then they say, well, you don't want that. I just look at them with a "so why do you ask?!" face and try not to throttle them. Those desires would even be assuaged if they told me they were asking because they just wanted to make sure. No, they ask again and expect me to answer to whatever they have already confirmed.
More often than not, I seem to find myself in this kind of situation. I told my mother that my patience is becoming thinner and thinner, and I really don't know if it's me or these people who are slowly driving me insane.
Take for example someone who works for my mother. I expect a work well done. There are steps to follow, instructions posted on every single wall. Even if it was not my job, I wanted to help. I took my time to design a simple layout, to find strategic places so I could place those rules--so to speak--somewhere visible. But people don't follow and just come back asking questions they know the answer to.
I have no pity when I get so pissed off and start lashing out. I've been told I can be cruel with my words, but when it's between that or me literally slapping someone on the face.
I like things done quickly and effectively. If there's a problem, I try to come up with a solution and solve it. I appreciate people asking me questions to know if certain things should be done in this or that way. But it drives me insanely mad if someone comes and asks me something they know the answer to. It drives me even madder when I reply with a "what do you think?" and then they say, well, you don't want that. I just look at them with a "so why do you ask?!" face and try not to throttle them. Those desires would even be assuaged if they told me they were asking because they just wanted to make sure. No, they ask again and expect me to answer to whatever they have already confirmed.
More often than not, I seem to find myself in this kind of situation. I told my mother that my patience is becoming thinner and thinner, and I really don't know if it's me or these people who are slowly driving me insane.
Take for example someone who works for my mother. I expect a work well done. There are steps to follow, instructions posted on every single wall. Even if it was not my job, I wanted to help. I took my time to design a simple layout, to find strategic places so I could place those rules--so to speak--somewhere visible. But people don't follow and just come back asking questions they know the answer to.
I have no pity when I get so pissed off and start lashing out. I've been told I can be cruel with my words, but when it's between that or me literally slapping someone on the face.
Monday, February 6, 2012
How time FLIES
I can't believe I haven't posted in here since August last year. So much has happened since then. For one, I got one job and, well, a half one too?
Full time job is good, though sometimes I still try to figure out my boss and those around me. They're business people. I get it. They earn tons of more money than I do. I get that too. They have more experience in THEIR field. Cool and more power to them. They pretend they know more of something I've studied great part of my adult life without even read/studied/analyzed 1/3 of the stuff I've read/studied/analyzed. That, it's quite difficult to me.
I'm helping them with a research institution. I'm egocentric when it comes to certain things. But really, it drives me mad when they point out at an article and commend it WITHOUT having read it. There are a couple they sent that were a complete, ridiculous hot mess. I basically had to relent and post one because they oh so wanted. I was actually ashamed to do so. I've tried to explain things to my bosses in an indirect, subtle way. I tried to sound civilized, but if this trend continues, I might as well pack my things in one more year or so. My research sensibilities can handle just that much.
On half-job, I'm helping in finishing something for this other organization I compromised myself to BEFORE getting full time job. I'm so stressed out that I can't sleep thinking about it. Just like now.
So that's work-life. Personal life, a very close friend of mine finally came out! Lord, I was so worried about that little head of his. He may not admit it, but I think he lifted some weight off his shoulders. I'm happy for him but I hope he finds the courage to tell his parents--especially his father.
Relationship life, non-existent. I become infatuated too easily and I'm actually sick of hoping for things I know I won't get. On a random note, French jerk contacted me again after more than one year hidden inside his dark hole. I didn't even graced him with an answer. What an idiot.
Now, my poor mother is secretly hoping for grand-kids but siblings and I already told her that will have to wait. Biological clocks and whatever speech about the beauty of young love aside, it's not our priorities. If it comes, it does. If it doesn't, we'll just have to wait. And if still doesn't come, then oh well, there's always cats or other pets, and many modern ways to have kids if we want one or two. Yes, having a family on your own is great. Yes, it's nice to share your life with someone you love and build a new path with this person. But honestly speaking, just as easily as love may happen, it may also leave. Call me a cynic but I haven't found that blinding, soul shattering love yet. When I find it, it may be a different story. For now, just let me be.
Besides that, nothing else to complain/talk/write about. Well, maybe one more thing. I miss the places I've been to/lived in. I miss some of the US, the UK, and even China. Maybe I need a trip...
Full time job is good, though sometimes I still try to figure out my boss and those around me. They're business people. I get it. They earn tons of more money than I do. I get that too. They have more experience in THEIR field. Cool and more power to them. They pretend they know more of something I've studied great part of my adult life without even read/studied/analyzed 1/3 of the stuff I've read/studied/analyzed. That, it's quite difficult to me.
I'm helping them with a research institution. I'm egocentric when it comes to certain things. But really, it drives me mad when they point out at an article and commend it WITHOUT having read it. There are a couple they sent that were a complete, ridiculous hot mess. I basically had to relent and post one because they oh so wanted. I was actually ashamed to do so. I've tried to explain things to my bosses in an indirect, subtle way. I tried to sound civilized, but if this trend continues, I might as well pack my things in one more year or so. My research sensibilities can handle just that much.
On half-job, I'm helping in finishing something for this other organization I compromised myself to BEFORE getting full time job. I'm so stressed out that I can't sleep thinking about it. Just like now.
So that's work-life. Personal life, a very close friend of mine finally came out! Lord, I was so worried about that little head of his. He may not admit it, but I think he lifted some weight off his shoulders. I'm happy for him but I hope he finds the courage to tell his parents--especially his father.
Relationship life, non-existent. I become infatuated too easily and I'm actually sick of hoping for things I know I won't get. On a random note, French jerk contacted me again after more than one year hidden inside his dark hole. I didn't even graced him with an answer. What an idiot.
Now, my poor mother is secretly hoping for grand-kids but siblings and I already told her that will have to wait. Biological clocks and whatever speech about the beauty of young love aside, it's not our priorities. If it comes, it does. If it doesn't, we'll just have to wait. And if still doesn't come, then oh well, there's always cats or other pets, and many modern ways to have kids if we want one or two. Yes, having a family on your own is great. Yes, it's nice to share your life with someone you love and build a new path with this person. But honestly speaking, just as easily as love may happen, it may also leave. Call me a cynic but I haven't found that blinding, soul shattering love yet. When I find it, it may be a different story. For now, just let me be.
Besides that, nothing else to complain/talk/write about. Well, maybe one more thing. I miss the places I've been to/lived in. I miss some of the US, the UK, and even China. Maybe I need a trip...
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
As my heart beats, the world goes on...
As my tears fall, as they eventually dry, time doesn't stop.
As anger blinds me, as callous words come and are not easily forgotten, as pain sits within my soul, seasons arrive and then leave. The earth changes, flowers grow, some people are born and some die.
In my saddest moments, the world seems grey and dark. As I get offended, there's no space to anything but criticism and indignancy. Why should I follow the shadows if I get the chance to light a candle and go on?
I look around and amid small drops of happiness, the world is a confusing and sad place. Why should I contribute to make it sadder?
Laughter is the best medicine for a tired soul. If you can laugh instead of cry, why not try it? Let's start curing everyone with the most simple and yet honest smile. Let's start with ourselves by trying to smile once a day--because in spite of everything, there's another day to live, another day to breathe, to look, to walk, to drink, to share, to love and be loved.
As my tears fall, as they eventually dry, time doesn't stop.
As anger blinds me, as callous words come and are not easily forgotten, as pain sits within my soul, seasons arrive and then leave. The earth changes, flowers grow, some people are born and some die.
In my saddest moments, the world seems grey and dark. As I get offended, there's no space to anything but criticism and indignancy. Why should I follow the shadows if I get the chance to light a candle and go on?
I look around and amid small drops of happiness, the world is a confusing and sad place. Why should I contribute to make it sadder?
Laughter is the best medicine for a tired soul. If you can laugh instead of cry, why not try it? Let's start curing everyone with the most simple and yet honest smile. Let's start with ourselves by trying to smile once a day--because in spite of everything, there's another day to live, another day to breathe, to look, to walk, to drink, to share, to love and be loved.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
I think better in the heat
I've found a yoga studio a little over a month ago. They offer many type of yoga classes but I always opt for bikram yoga. I began practicing it when I was in NY and since then, I'm kind of hooked.
The class consist of 26 poses in a heated room (about 41 Celsius, 105 Fahrenheit). It can be a bit overwhelming and even too suffocating, but the after effects are great. One feels so much better and refreshed. What I like most, however, is the fact that inside that hot room, while I'm trying to stretch, to twist and maintain a pose, my mind goes blank and I'm just thinking about my body, the little goal of reaching to this and that position--it's as if I'm just forgetting about anyone and anything else.
It is during those 90 minutes that I compete against myself, when I push against my limits and feel comfort that I haven't reached some of them yet but will eventually. There's no they but me, the air (or lack thereof) I breath, the point I focus on, the thump of my heart as it accelerates and decelerates with every position, the feeling of sweat running along my brows and head... There's no judging, no why you're doing this right or wrong, but how you can make it better perhaps not now but definitely later.
It is in those few minutes when I don't worry about why I feel like standing in the middle of nowhere. I've been whining and complaining about anything and everything during the last couple of months, about why I can't do or get this and that. But truth to be told, I've also given up and just settled at whatever midpoint in the air I've been floating on.
I give myself goals but perhaps they're too broad, too wide, too big to accomplish by myself. I've been focusing too much on that stain on my white shirt as my yoga instructor says. Instead of hoping for something that could miraculously mask that stain, I should simply take the shirt off, wash it, and put it on again. It's not shameful to admit that I had a stain on it. I should actually feel ashamed for hiding said stain and pretending it would go away without actually doing something about it.
As I came back home and hoped to do great things, I lost my purpose and my sense of direction. My frustration blindsided me. Now, I'm trying to find a new journey, but this time, just like in my yoga class, there's no they I should think about. But me, what makes my heart beat passionately even in the most uncomfortable environments. It's too early to get a straight "right" now. There's a "you can make it better, if not at the moment, then later. But keep trying, push your limits and see where you get first."
The class consist of 26 poses in a heated room (about 41 Celsius, 105 Fahrenheit). It can be a bit overwhelming and even too suffocating, but the after effects are great. One feels so much better and refreshed. What I like most, however, is the fact that inside that hot room, while I'm trying to stretch, to twist and maintain a pose, my mind goes blank and I'm just thinking about my body, the little goal of reaching to this and that position--it's as if I'm just forgetting about anyone and anything else.
It is during those 90 minutes that I compete against myself, when I push against my limits and feel comfort that I haven't reached some of them yet but will eventually. There's no they but me, the air (or lack thereof) I breath, the point I focus on, the thump of my heart as it accelerates and decelerates with every position, the feeling of sweat running along my brows and head... There's no judging, no why you're doing this right or wrong, but how you can make it better perhaps not now but definitely later.
It is in those few minutes when I don't worry about why I feel like standing in the middle of nowhere. I've been whining and complaining about anything and everything during the last couple of months, about why I can't do or get this and that. But truth to be told, I've also given up and just settled at whatever midpoint in the air I've been floating on.
I give myself goals but perhaps they're too broad, too wide, too big to accomplish by myself. I've been focusing too much on that stain on my white shirt as my yoga instructor says. Instead of hoping for something that could miraculously mask that stain, I should simply take the shirt off, wash it, and put it on again. It's not shameful to admit that I had a stain on it. I should actually feel ashamed for hiding said stain and pretending it would go away without actually doing something about it.
As I came back home and hoped to do great things, I lost my purpose and my sense of direction. My frustration blindsided me. Now, I'm trying to find a new journey, but this time, just like in my yoga class, there's no they I should think about. But me, what makes my heart beat passionately even in the most uncomfortable environments. It's too early to get a straight "right" now. There's a "you can make it better, if not at the moment, then later. But keep trying, push your limits and see where you get first."
Monday, July 25, 2011
In which she rants about fashion (sort of)...
I'm not a hip dresser. I'm in fact boring when it comes to my clothes. They're serious, mostly formal, and sometimes too old for my age (or so my more "hip" sisters say). In fact, I usually dress as if I'm inside an office 24/7--which is arguably true.
That said, I do like fashion and am always curious about what other people wear. It's like watching one's mood and life style through his or her clothes. So being the usually curious person I am, I enjoy going through websites that show what other people wear. Namely, I like to visit those so called street-fashion-photographers' websites.
There's one that is particularly popular and it's called The Sartorialist. I'm sure many have heard of this guy. About two years ago, I began to follow his site to check on the pics he took. Some were very interesting; however, as time passed the pics, the styles he portrayed became boring. Not boring like me and my common, formal clothes, but boring because they pretty much depicted how the photographer wished/wanted people to dress like. His so called pics of random fashionable people in the streets became pics of one or two stereotypes. I believe even a newspaper came out with an article about what a person could wear if he or she wanted to catch the sartorialist's attention and be photographed.
I respect people's point of view, their vision of art and fashion... but... if you call yourself a photographer who captures fashionable or interesting trends, shouldn't you be doing that? Instead, I saw photographs of the same styles over and over again. The only difference: the faces, the color of clothing, and maybe one or two accessories. As a result, I stopped visiting the website.
But tonight, after some 12+ months, I decided to visit the website again to see if there was anything new. Who knows, maybe I could be visually inspired or surprised (in a good way).
But nothing changed. It was the same.
In other words, and I'm adding my two unfashionable cents, if you want to be photographed by this guy just check three to five pics from his site and you'll get an idea:
- Dress like a hipster who happens to have a boyfriend/girlfriend who dresses (or tries to) like a boho and take some of his/her accessories.
- If you can, add a fedora hat, wear those thick rimmed glasses and get an old fashioned bike.
- Let's not forget the essential cellphone in your hands (you should pretend to text or talk) and/or a grande coffee cup.
- As for colors, there are differences between the seasons, but if in doubt wear blue, white, red, yellow, or black. If you're adventurous, some flowery stuff could work too (preferably small flowers, not big ones).*
So if you excuse me now, I shall go and burn my clothes and get myself a super cool dark blue blazer, skinny jeans (that can be folded at the bottom, mind you), oxford shoes, and very long necklaces. Oh, and a fedora hat.
*When I speak of the colors, I also speak of their variations
That said, I do like fashion and am always curious about what other people wear. It's like watching one's mood and life style through his or her clothes. So being the usually curious person I am, I enjoy going through websites that show what other people wear. Namely, I like to visit those so called street-fashion-photographers' websites.
There's one that is particularly popular and it's called The Sartorialist. I'm sure many have heard of this guy. About two years ago, I began to follow his site to check on the pics he took. Some were very interesting; however, as time passed the pics, the styles he portrayed became boring. Not boring like me and my common, formal clothes, but boring because they pretty much depicted how the photographer wished/wanted people to dress like. His so called pics of random fashionable people in the streets became pics of one or two stereotypes. I believe even a newspaper came out with an article about what a person could wear if he or she wanted to catch the sartorialist's attention and be photographed.
I respect people's point of view, their vision of art and fashion... but... if you call yourself a photographer who captures fashionable or interesting trends, shouldn't you be doing that? Instead, I saw photographs of the same styles over and over again. The only difference: the faces, the color of clothing, and maybe one or two accessories. As a result, I stopped visiting the website.
But tonight, after some 12+ months, I decided to visit the website again to see if there was anything new. Who knows, maybe I could be visually inspired or surprised (in a good way).
But nothing changed. It was the same.
In other words, and I'm adding my two unfashionable cents, if you want to be photographed by this guy just check three to five pics from his site and you'll get an idea:
- Dress like a hipster who happens to have a boyfriend/girlfriend who dresses (or tries to) like a boho and take some of his/her accessories.
- If you can, add a fedora hat, wear those thick rimmed glasses and get an old fashioned bike.
- Let's not forget the essential cellphone in your hands (you should pretend to text or talk) and/or a grande coffee cup.
- As for colors, there are differences between the seasons, but if in doubt wear blue, white, red, yellow, or black. If you're adventurous, some flowery stuff could work too (preferably small flowers, not big ones).*
So if you excuse me now, I shall go and burn my clothes and get myself a super cool dark blue blazer, skinny jeans (that can be folded at the bottom, mind you), oxford shoes, and very long necklaces. Oh, and a fedora hat.
*When I speak of the colors, I also speak of their variations
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