I stopped writing in this blog because I switched to paper journals. I wanted to keep my life in paper and be able to tote them around in boxes for the rest of my life. I wanted to be able to read my life, bled black and blue on the parchment skin. I wanted to remember everything in a space that I just for me (even though no one ever read this space and it too was just for me).

I need a place to feel that seems real. I need a way that makes everything in my life seem real. I stopped writing this when I needed things to be private and now I feel like I am rapped in my mind and trapped in my past.

The People All Call Her Alaska

For the last three days, I've heard the song "Stephanie Says" by Velvet Underground more times than I have previously in my entire life. I think I heard it twice before, and on Friday it came on my MGMT/Magnetic Fields station on Pandora. Since then, I've heard it at least three in stores, on a friend's mixed CD and once more on my pandora. I think it was trying to tell me something.

Stephanie says that she wants to know
Why she's given half her life, to people she hates now
Stephanie says when answering the phone
What country shall I say is calling from across the world

I never understood the song the first time I heard it. In fact, I don't think I understood it the first couple times I heard it. With lines like "The people all call her Alaska" what is it supposed to mean other than the obvious cold, frigid bitch meaning (because we're all a little more creative than that).

But then later you have the lines:
"Stephanie says that she wants to know
Why it is though she's the door She can't be the room"

It made me realize that song I'd never thought about before (but always been intrigued by due to the mention of my name) was really about someone who was in the "in between" stage in her life. She is connected to her old life, but never part of it nor part of her new life. She is constantly the mediator, the middle and the in between.

This brings me to the Alaska reference. It's not only the cold of Alaska, but how distant it is from it's connections. Alaska has so much more in common based on culture, climate, lifestyle etc with Canada and Russia, yet it holds those same threads of connection with the United States based on tradition, comfort and the fact that life is just easier that way. Alaska is just taken and cold because of that purposeful distancing.

Perhaps I just need to find someone a little bit more like Canada: someone with the same lifestyle, same ambitions and same desires. But more than that, Canada was originally part of the British Commonwealth. It knows how difficult it is to feel so separated from everyone, how difficult it is to be the doorway and how necessary it is to sometimes break away. Perhaps I just need to find someone a little bit more like Canada.

And maybe then it won't be so cold in Alaska

Stephanie Says...

Stephanie says
that she wants to know
Why she's given half her life
to people she hates now

Stephanie says (Stephanie says)
when answering the phone (answering the phone)
What country shall I say is calling
from across the world

But she's not afraid to die
the people all call her Alaska
Between worlds so the people ask her
'Cause it's all in her mind
it's all in her mind

Stephanie says (Stephanie says)
that she wants to know (she wants to know)
Why it is though she's the door
she can't leave the room

Stephanie says (Stephanie says)
but doesn't hang up the phone (hang up the phone)
What sea shell say is calling
from across the world

But she's not afraid to die
the people all call her Alaska
Between worlds so the people ask her
'Cause it's all in her mind
it's all in her mind

They're asking is it good or bad
It's such an icy feeling

It's so cold in Alaska (Stephanie says)
it's so cold in Alaska (Stephanie says)
It's so cold in Alaska (Stephanie says)

-Velvet Underground

On Advertising, Personal Lives, and Style

In this industry, you never make it home in time for dinner. You live with a multitude of broken promises and a personal life that frequently seems to come second. We check our emotional bags at the door when we get into the office and we pick them up when we leave (as well as any other unfinished work from the day).

Last night, in the wee hours of the morning, I spoke with a friend who had recently broken up with his girlfriend (or, rather, she broke up with him) for the reasons I just described. We shared a pot of tea while I edited site maps and he did some engineering computations that my tiny brain cannot fathom. “You’d better find an understanding woman,” I joked.

“Or at least one with my same level of ambition,” he responded.

(Insert sideways glance, coy smile and “what if”s here before both parties awkwardly say goodnight and shuffle off to bed in their respective rooms)

~~~~~~

I wrote this post on the 9th of this month in the "anti blog" at our company, an antique typewriter that is supposed to hold the secrets within our minds--the subtle creativity that occasionally needs to come screaming out.

When i write in the anti blog, it's an amalgamation of every day. No entry is fully truthful in its details and they occurred, but each is fully truthful insomuch as they are of utmost importance to me. I wear my heart on my sleeve, I write with sheer meaning and I am slowly learning how to let myself feel with every fiber of my being.

It sucks sometimes, in short.

Today is Today

Today is Today
Yesterday is Today
Tomorrow is Today

This was a poem that sensei Matsumoto, visiting from Berkeley Buddhist Church, read this afternoon at our Hatsubon ceremony, the starting ceremony of the Obon festival to celebrate the souls of those who have died in the past year. Immediately after gassho and oshoko, the sensei began telling the story of how he came across this poem, how simple it sounds and how complicated it is to actually live life in this fashion.

Today is today, but who really lives each day for itself. Who doesn't think "god this service is taking so long, I'm hungry and want lunch" or "I can't believe how much work i have left on my desk"

Yesterday is today, meaning that every yesterday has shaped every moment of every day.

Tomorrow is today, meaning that every instant today and every decision will shape every tomorrow.

We must remember our ancestors and our history. We must remember our traditions and how heavily each day influences our lives. We must keep in mind that every day is today.

I have come to the conclusion that the "Iron and Wine" station on Pandora is possibly the most depressing thing ever.

That is all.

Sad and fascinating--tragic and rejuvenating...

Every day I sit down with the intention of writing a blog post about life and loss and sheer meaning. I've had "meaningful blog post" on my to do list for the last three days, and I have yet to write anything. I want to find the inspiration to write something meaningful.

Last week, one of my good friends ended up in the hospital after a seizure and complications from other medications. He's fine now and will be returning home shortly. I returned home to visit my family because I needed to get away from the fast pace of my life in Berkeley.

For the last 5 years, I always remember my grandmother telling me she wanted me to look through her jewelry and pick out what I wanted after she died. This weekend I discovered why she has always said that. Turns out she has had breast cancer for the last 10 years (at least) and has never told anyone until now because she has never wanted treatment. She only started chemo 4 days ago because the cancer has become ulcerated and she is no longer able to move her right arm without serious pain. I learned this Thursday evening after I had been a pain in the ass all day for having to spend the day with my family after an entire day of work and about 2.5 hours of travel time.

Apparently the only people who knew were my grandfather and her sister. My grandfather always thought he'd outlive her (funny now, in retrospect) and my grandmother only told my father after he noticed blood on her shirt the day of my grandfather's memorial service at the end of March. She asked him not to tell anyone as well and not to make her get treatment. He agreed, and only told me when she said it was okay and after she had agreed to get chemo.

More than sadness or worry or any other emotions one would expect me to feel, I have a greater sense of astonishment. I am amazed that the human body can produce a mutant cell that dominates everything else to effectively, but more than that, I am amazed it can resist that mutation for 10-12 years through largely willpower and self imposed feelings of guilt/unimportance/not wanting to burden your family with your problems.

It's sad and fascinating. It's tragic and awe inspiring. It's rejuvenating and soul-crushing at the same time...