Sunlight.

Yesterday was my one year with Daniel, and though it probably wasn't altogether fulfilling for him, I feel happy - and an even better word meaning the same thing - content. We split a large pizza with mushrooms, pineapples, and sausage - and I'm still feeling the side-effects. I am stuffed, hours after the pizza guzzling. The gifts I got him were a futuristic, NASA-inspired ant farm to keep its ant inhabitants thriving without the need for food or water (he liked this), a handmade card (that took forever and was very laborious), and a tape recording (since he prefers hearing things versus reading things). He gave me another Woot shirt, which I'm beginning to realize is a trend, which I really like; it has two fish swimming upstream on one side (I'm the red one and he's the blue one) and he also gave me a really cool old-looking box with a weird Cubix-like toy shaped into a heart inside, surrounded by rose peddles. Reflecting back on it, I realize we're huge nerds. But I really liked my gifts, now I'm simply waiting for my letter and a few other things he got me, which I'm assuming I'll get once I come home. In his words, he's lagging it. Which is fine since I'm lagging it with his mixed CD. I only wish he could have stayed...alas, it was not to be. His car, a Nissan of course, broke down multiple times while he was here. Him driving home was...scary to think about. But he made it. Thank the Lord. Santa Barbara really doesn't like him...or his car.

It seems like this past year flew by in the blink of an eye, and yet, when you really think about it, so, so, incredibly slowly. Like when you think about being ten and realize how fast time flies, except now the memories are fresh and it seems like that year seemed to just drag on and on and on. I know I'll have those same feelings of this year for the rest of my life - of it just dragging on and on and on. I remember the times where I thought the school year would never come to an end, and I'd feel like balling until I couldn't produce any more tears. Good thing those days are behind me because I wouldn't be able to handle any more of them. I'm finally leaving this dreadful school to be reunited with my one true love and family and real people, not identical clones. I've never been more excited for anything in my life. And that's saying a lot.

Destination: Fontana
Allotted time: 12 days

Take Me Away.

I just might have an anger management problem...or at least developed one while here. Today, after my women's studies class, I got on my bike and started riding back to my dorm. In front of me, not too far away, was a girl (also in my women's studies class) who is a bit heavyset and rides a scooter around school. I call her Scooter Girl. Since we were in IV, or douchebag central, there were a surplus of cars; it's almost like playing a game of Frogger - except you don't have unlimited lives to spare. I was passing her up when the car who had been making its way down the street rolled their window down and started laughing at her - directly at her....

I can't even...I really can't even express how much...complete and utter disgust I felt....

I was so pissed off. So...angry. I started yelling at them...and I honestly don't know what I said...and then I chased them on my bike, their laughs directed towards me now. I must have looked crazy...in fact, I think I did go a little crazy.

I'm getting really scared...staying here is...I really don't think it's good for me, mentally. I just lost it today. If they would've gotten out of their cars...I really think that I would have tried to fight them...

What is happening to me?

What is wrong with people? Why do they have to be such assholes? How could you keep laughing after you saw that girl's face? How much more damage have you done to her insecurity at this Goddamn all-about-looks-school by doing that? Why are people...

...I can't even find the words. They don't exist.

Title and Registration.

I had the most awkward phone conversation with my boyfriend not too long ago. Not the kind where there are some moments or even minutes of silence, but of uncomfortable and completely awkward silence. Comfortable silence I like, but when there's uncomfortable silence....Let's just say it got under my skin, and lead to a floodgate.

I feel...aggravated. This always happens once I come back to Santa Barbara. ALWAYS. We get into these...tiffs. Grace has less than a month left here, so let's try and fit in as many relationship upsets as possible before then. Today's game plan? How about an awkward/annoying conversation?

I just feel like screaming, "COME ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!! Come on!!!" and shaking my fists and slamming them into something nice and unbreakable.

I mean, c'mon, really? You kiddin' me?

It isn't really the awkward/annoying conversation that bothers me (though the uncomfortable silence does to some extent), it's more the accumulation of all these tiffs we've had since my being here. I knew it wasn't going to be easy. But Coldplay got it right when they sang, "Nobody ever said it would be this hard." I've cried. A lot. And that pisses me off. Because I hate it, another reminder that I no longer have control over myself. But it pisses me off a million times more because I get so incredibly sad I can't do anything - literally. I'm more than happy about coming home, being reunited and starting things off the way they should have been, but I'm also extremely apprehensive. I'm scared shitless, actually.

I look at couples I know. Some are even farther apart than Daniel and I and have hardly gotten into tiffs (by "tiffs" I mean stupid arguments) since being here. They're those couples that you look at and you know that they're going to end up together indefinitely. Now, that's not what I'm asking for. But it makes me wonder...what is it about our relationship that makes us get into so many tiffs? If distance is the factor, why isn't it for those couples? Are we faulty?....

Every time we get upset at each other it makes me question these things. I know that stupid arguments are unavoidable and even necessary at times, but this many?...No. Why can't we handle it? Is it that I can't, or that he can't even more? Is it an imbalance? I don't know. I DON'T KNOW. I hate it. When I go home, will everything really be okay? What if we realize, no, this isn't going to work. This whole year...all that hardship...only to find out that everything's changed?

Will I be learning another lesson?

I'll be playing "Title and Registration" until I fall asleep.

Nyc.

"Nyc" by Interpol has been my song of choice for the past week and a half now. My second favorite song by Interpol I decided, next to "Public Pervert" (remixed version cannot be replaced). This song gets me in the mood to travel, and I'm finding myself missing the city. By that I mean I'm missing The Big Apple, New York City. There's something so...magical about it. So exciting. You can never be bored, there's always something to do. It's so culturally diverse, you find yourself swimming in its ethnic stew as soon as you step off the plane. It's dangerous, it's a thrill. I haven't been to New York since my sophomore year, and only once before when I was eleven. Both times I stayed a week. I've only been in New York for two weeks total. More than most people, less than a lot of people. They say if you can make it in New York, you can make it anywhere. This I believe wholeheartedly. I miss the excitement that city produced within me. It's so big, so daunting, so...alive.

The city is alive.

That's the best way to describe it. In a way so much more spectacular than Los Angeles, so much more "classy." Don't get me wrong, I love L.A. I love Los Angeles like a cholo who has its initials inked on his back, but I love NYC indefinitely more. Right now, that's where I wish I was - out at a corner cafe, sipping coffee, staring out at the lights that, despite its example of wasteful energy, provide breathtaking man-made scenery. So there is something we can (somewhat) do right.

More than that, I wish I were in New York with the people I miss the most. My best friends, my boyfriend. Imagine the fun we'd have.

I smile just thinking about it, because that's all I can do. But I smile more because maybe, just maybe, one day it will happen.

I came back to Santa Barbara this morning after spending Mother's Day weekend at home. It's terrible because I'm actually getting used to coming back, it's still difficult, but now that the end of the year is approaching the sadness lasted only seconds. I'll be back home very soon. In fact, in less than a month. As for what I did this weekend, nothing too explosive, though thoroughly enjoyable.

On Saturday my boyfriend and I saw the movies Star Trek and Earth. I'm not going to talk about Earth because, quite frankly, it's not worth it. But I will happily talk about Star Trek. What a pleasant, pleasant surprise that movie turned out to be. I was expecting the worst (as I usually do), figuring Abrams wouldn't be able to execute the brilliant fantasy that is Star Trek as well as Lucas did with the first four Star Wars films (yes, I just included Star Trek and Star Wars in one sentence AND I compared them), but, like I sometimes am, I was enjoyably wrong. So much so that I highly recommend everyone see it if they're looking for a good time. It has the right amount of action, a fun plot, and the original Spock makes an appearance - how much more do you want from a fantasy film? It's just an all-around fun movie. I'm not saying it's groundbreaking, but they did outdo themselves I must admit. "Two thumbs up!" I predict.

Other than a movie, I spent Mother's Day lunching on chachamyung, or brown noodles, which is simply a bowl of noodles mixed with special brown sauce (usually includes onions and thin, vertical cucumber slices for an added crunch, with bits of marinated meat) - one word: Delicious! We also shared sweet, fried shrimp and a big bowl of rice. Afterward, we went to Handel's (BEST ice cream on the west coast if I do say so myself) where we shared Banana Cream Pie ice cream in a waffle cone for $4 (we couldn't even finish it). Conveniently, there was a little spa about three stores down from Handel's and we had ourselves a pedicure, her choice of color being red and mine being pearly white. It was a fun day having my mom lovingly lecture me about anything and everything - I didn't mind, I missed the woman incredibly. And I could tell she missed me by how much she lectured me. Our own way of expressing deep emotion. I just wish I had executed the holiday a bit better...my dad always outshines me in the gift department - he bought her flowers AND gave her money! I thought I was the one who was supposed to do the gift-buying? Alas, I do feel bad. I had a shipment order I told my mom to look out for and I stupidly forgot that that upcoming weekend was Mother's Day. She thought it was for her. It must have been slightly upsetting when I tore open the box only to reveal the gifts I had gotten Guido for his birthday - I don't think sometimes. How do I know she was a little upset? She told me, and my dad. So, I guess he felt bad and bought her flowers to one-up me and gave us lunch money. At least her husband is thoughtful. I really need to think things through and not be as spontaneous so much; it's not always a good thing. I have poor planning when it comes to holidays, birthdays, etc. Particularly anniversaries. I only mention this because Daniel and I's one year is coming up, and I have all my ideas stored in my mind, but no way in which to execute them correctly. I really need to get started on that. I just see things, get a great idea, purchase, then rethink it and realize that, maybe, it wasn't such a "great" idea after all. I'll tell you how that goes, though.

But, anyway, Extravaganza '09 is coming up this weekend, May 16, and I'm getting a bit excited about it. Cold War Kids, Girl Talk, and The Cool Kids are among the top performers I want to see...even though Ludacris is the headliner of the event. Whatever, I like me some Luda, I'll get down and shake my money maker. I'm not sure if it's only for UCSB attendees or not, but if it turns out not to be I'll make a note of it. That's about it for today, I'm off to go to the gym and maybe watch Y Tu Mama Tambien with Joana, energy permitting.

How to Disappear Completely.

It was bound to happen eventually. The appearance of my first bad blog. Today has just been a horrible day. From last night to this morning. Radiohead, is there a way to disappear completely? Like those colorful particles that disappear when you close your eyes after they've flickered across its black canvas? I feel like doing that today. The whole entire day. Closing my eyes and concentrating on those lines of color and listening to that song, sinking myself into the fascinations staring at your own eyelids can conjure and marveling at the imagination. Today has worn me out. Emotionally, physically - any other -ally you can name - I've had enough. I want peace. To forget about everything, everyone in my life. I feel like talking to God today. And I'm such an asshole for it. The only time I ever do is when I feel like complete shit. For that, I am the most sorry of anything I have ever done or am to do. I keep telling myself everything is going to be okay. "I know everything will be okay" is my mantra. But I'm scared on the inside, deep down, I'm scared. I called CSU San Bernardino today about my admission, and I had to leave a message for a lady who sounded like she smoked a hundred packs of cigarettes a day. I called my boss who had a busy line. Yet again. I need to call again soon....Then my boyfriend told me he had dreams of physical and emotional infidelity. Again.

Why?

Right after a stress attack last night thanks to an over-analytical mind.

At this point I feel like throwing up my hands and giving up. Like I always do. But I know I won't. Because I can't. No matter how much I tell myself I'm going to, no matter how much I try...I can't. Me, myself, and I won't allow it.

How fucking frustrating.

I know that this is a good thing - believe me. But I wish I could trick myself into completely giving up for one day. At least one day. ONE DAY, GRACE. Please.

I wonder about my future more than my past or my present, a big contributor to my stress factor. I daydream too damn much. But now it isn't about flying or how it would be if I could actually sit on a cloud, looking down from my own sanctuary in the sky. Now it's about what I'm going to be doing in four or five years. Where I'll be living. If I'll be happy.

How dull.

I want to join the Peace Corps. because it will be an experience of a lifetime. I want to because I want to help and meet amazing people that will give light to the human race. I want to because it gives me something to look forward to. It gives me a comforting thought. It inspires me. It's my own little bubble of happiness. I want to because it will teach me something - something more valuable than anything I can think of. I'm going to join. One day. I'm going to. It might not be right after graduation, but I will be in a different country after I've graduated. You can count on that. I won't be here anymore.

"It's time that we grow old and do some shit."

"Lover's Spit" has got to be my favorite song by Feist (or at least cover by Feist, the song originally by Broken Social Scene). That's exactly what I'm aiming towards. I'm going to do some shit. Exactly.

I'm a restless soul. And I can never be satisfied except by a psalm or a prayer. What a comfort to have when all else fails. I know I have no tribulations, I'm not so vain as to think I do. There's only so much I can take, but I know He only gives you what you can handle.

So, I need to handle it. I'm off to take a walk with God.

THE COOL KIDS and Cinco de Mayo.

Today I downloaded The Cool Kids' debut album, "Gone Fishing," a 21-track compilation of mad beats and smooth rhymin' - all for the wondrous price of absolutely...FREE! You can do the same at http://www.megaupload.com/?d=ZAL31UHJ. I was ecstatic upon hearing news of a free album by the catchy-as-a-pop-song Cool Kids, a personal favorite rap duo. Lord knows I've only been waiting an entire year for it. Not only does the new album include one of my favorite songs, "Pennies," the updated remix, but the song "Gold Links" spits the words or, rather, word "riff-raff." You have to be pretty damn awesome to incorporate the word "riff-raff" in a style as peanut buttery smooth as Mickey Rocks and Chuck Inglish manage to do within a poignantly hip hop sound. The greatest thing is that they're going to be at UCSB's Extravaganza '09 - check it!

Other than my genuine joy of having downloaded "Gone Fishing," today is Cinco de Mayo, a.k.a. another excuse to throw a party and get wasted. I think it's more celebrated by white people than Mexicans by the looks of it at my school. I've seen at least two people sport a sombrero just on my way back from class as well as a handful of what my friend Leslie refers to as "Eskihoes" (booty short, Ugg wearing gals) drunk off their asses. I think it's funny that in Mexico they hardly celebrate Cinco de Mayo, if at all, and it gets so much hype here. They celebrate on September 16, which is Mexico's actual Independence Day. What other explanation can there be for Cinco de Mayo besides the mass sale of chips, salsa, tequila and an excuse to say we celebrate Mexican diversity in the U.S. so that we don't look like racist assholes?

I say we at least switch the date of celebration to a time when school is not in session, or Mexico's true Independence Day. That way I don't have to deal with these idiots parading around in sombreros making a racket about how drunk they're going to get tonight (or already are) and have to complain about how nauseous people here make me.

All I can say is thank-you Cool Kids!

I'm going to add to this by saying that the grandiose Oprah is giving away free KFC coupons valid for two pieces of grilled chicken, two sides, and two biscuits. Don't ask me why, just go to oprah.com and print it out. Ask questions later.

Nice Dream.

Sleep refuses to bless me with her otherworldly touch tonight.

And I'm pissed about it.

I slept late last night talking to my boyfriend of nearly a year, Daniel, via instant messenger trying to work out a few kinks in our relatively perfect-in-my-eyes relationship. By the time I got off AIM I was groggy-eyed and emotionally drained, slightly annoyed but ready to hit the pillows in utter exhaustion. Sleep came to me. But in the creepiest of ways.

I had a dream. A dream about a liquefied chicken. Yes, I know these don't exist, but my dreams teeter on the extreme. I was at some carnival with my mom (of all people) and we decided to hit up a game booth. My mom won me a prize: the liquefied chicken. I remember thinking, "Oh, man, I hate chickens" but thought nothing of the fact that my prize was nonexistent and plain out bizarre, only that I couldn't tell my hyped up mom that "chicken" was code for "devil's spawn." The liquefied chicken was actually a plastic mold of a chicken with a yellow, jello-y filling on the inside. The "cool" thing about it was that if you sprinkled food (which looked like fish pellets) inside of the mold that the chicken would come alive. So, I proceeded to do so. From the yellow substance came a real life, clucking chicken. I was slightly amused, but not amazed. The chicken started pecking at the ground and while I turned around to express my fake enthusiasm at owning a chicken to my mom, the bastard started running away! So, I started chasing it, afraid it would run out into the street (which, now that I reflect upon it, is quite funny). Instead, it ran towards a massive trash dumpster where another chicken had somehow shown up, both running in circles clucking hysterically. I was pissed off at having to chase my chicken, and now I had to figure out which one was mine. Eventually, I caught it and somehow converted it back into its original jello form. And took it home.

...I really need to go to sleep earlier.

Flashing Lights.

After forking over my old Casio Exilim to my mom who started to use it religiously, my search for the perfect camera at a reasonable price has ended with the Canon PowerShot XS10 IS Digital Camera. To sum it up in the words of the Canon company:

"Whether the action is fast or slow, close up or far away, you'll always get the shot you want with the PowerShot SX10 IS. This camera puts you on the cutting edge of advanced technology, with an incredibly powerful 20x Optical Zoom, 10-megapixel resolution, and new DIGIC 4 Image Processor for high-performance face and motion detection."

All for the internet-researched price of $219. Originally, I was going to buy a Nikon CoolPix for the same price at Costco, but I knew I'd regret buying it. Besides, I've wanted to try a Canon for a while now, it was only a matter of time before I bought myself a legend. Although this particular camera isn't the best, keep in mind that I am a poor college student and, also, not a professional photographer. But, believe me, if I could I'd buy the new Rebel T1 in a heartbeat.

I've always liked taking pictures of everything and anything, but I never gave the ever-popular art form of photography much thought. Thanks to a friend of mine, Ioana, I've really come to enjoy photography. She recently showed me a website that I think is especially cute and amazing called theoneswelove.org in which select photographers were asked to take six pictures of the ones they loved (hence the website's name) and write a short reasoning as to why they did. Just go to the category of "Photographers" and click on a name. I particularly like Anna-Liisa Liiver.

With my new Canon, I'm hoping to not only be able to take pictures of the ones I love, the places I go, the things I do, but inspire myself and have fun with the endless possibilities a camera holds. In short, I'm excited!

Keep your eyes peeled for upcoming photos.

Prelude.

Blogging. I never thought I'd actually get into this so much, but here I am with my very own blog. First off, I'd like to say (or reiterate) that this is really for my own personal enjoyment, as I know blogging implies. On account of my being the laziest person I know, the ideal dream of owning a journal with cute little pictures and swirly handwriting has been dashed by such extreme laborious penmanship that a blog has become its solution. I've always wanted a diary ever since I read The Diary of a Young Girl: Anne Frank in the fifth grade. But why not settle for a blog? Sure, the drawbacks include not being able to gaze at my horrid all caps handwriting and crossed out messiness that cuts down my paragraphs into two or three sentences, but just look at the pros:

You get to read it.

Of course, you don't have to comment my entries. I simply want some kind of personal documentation that I existed on this planet, and since it's on the world wide web, I know it's pretty much a given that my blog will remain in cyberspace forever (creepy echo). Instead of leaving my kids a bound-up journal which they would have to decipher like a plumber looking at a wall of hieroglyphics, I'll leave them with a website. Presumptuous of me to determine how long I'll live, but if I do live long enough to be Grandma Grace, I'll leave this world a hipster.

With that said and done, I conclude my prelude.