10 Things I Learned This Weekend
1. In a pinch, mango salsa in place of hot sauce is not bad with Vietnamese spring rolls.
2. What HMOs are.
3. Newport Beach is a charming and scenic part of Orange County, although I don't know yet what "The OC" means to say by making it its home city.
4. Fabric softener, if left on a shelf for 2 or more years, will coagulate.
5. Too much fried chicken sometimes makes you want to vomit.
6. A Mercedes is a fantastic kind of car.
7. During World War II, there were a number of exquisite female spies who slept with high-ranking officials to steal secrets for their governments, and they were quite successful.
8. Sitting close to a bonfire can be hazardous for your eyes.
9. Nothing really roasts well over a bonfire except marshmallows.
10. Keep French or ciabatta bread in a tupperware container if you don't want it to harden too fast.
Reinventing Myself
You really can't care what other people think, you know what I mean? It's the fastest way to slow you down. You can care about people liking you, but only safely in a superficial, topical sense... like you hope that it will happen but don't apply any special effort in getting there. In other words, you want them to like you without you trying -- so they like the real you.
I'm just going to the gym now when I can. I can't beat myself up over not making it there or closely calculating what days I've missed and what days I have to make up. People deserve a day of rest, now and then, or a day to reorganize your apartment, or go out just to find the little something to add that splash of color or panache to brighten up your living space. Or a day to sit and read that book you never get to read, or look at old magazines to remember that first "ooh" you breathed when you saw it on the newsstand and couldn't help blowing $4. Or have time to make lemonade with the last lemon that in a few days will be way too soft. It's all a part of reinventing myself.
God, I'm Starving Right Now!
I mean, seriously!
Bluer
Jose told me last night that, while waiting to fix my dad's computer at my house, he had an unexpectedly deep conversation with my mom. In that discussion, my mother told Jose that a real caveat of traveling so much, as he does, is that you very easily end up disillusioned with your own life back home. And then he start to relate less and less to those people around you because your norm is constantly changing. It makes sense: the reason that we're usually happy where we are is because we are content, because the values in our immediate society become our own, because we're part of a community fabric. But if you're always going off on your own, every place starts to feel foreign, and no place is home. And the home that you could once call your own is just some sort of artificial stopping ground as you inevitably grow restless and feel your wings clipped.
I'm sure my mother didn't mean for either me or Jose to extract so much from her simple statements. Maybe she was just doling out the kind of general, filler advice we're all so wont to propound when we're having casual conversations. Maybe she just wanted Jose to think about something as he munched on his apple. But it's one of those things that make you think -- especially in cases like mine and Jose's. We are always telling ourselves how fortunate we are that we have the luxury to travel and expand those damn horizons; and yet we always lament to each other how inexplicably depressed we are when we're at home.
I, myself, have been trying to figure out why I've been so down these days. There's no real reason. Academically and professionally, I'm where I should be. My usual preoccupations about my body are meritless at present because I'm too busy to either eat or obsess over the usual minutiae. Friends are pretty supportive, family is always receptive, money woes nonexistent. So why am I so spiritless?
I just don't want to be here. Is it what they call a slump, a funk, a rut? I'm starting to envision a life ahead of me filled with paperwork and deadlines, clockwatching and suit-wearing, scheduling and networking. The kind of shit Aaron Spelling likes to glamorize. Well, it's also the kind of shit I can no longer convince myself I was meant for. I used to think that doing that all day was worth it if it meant you could have Sunday brunch in a terribly posh sidewalk cafe and could afford all the Tod's bags your budget allowed. But life, unfortunately, is not all about earning and spending.
I have that feeling like... I wouldn't want to be anywhere but here, but I don't want to be here right now. What's talking right now -- youth, naivete, or candor? Is this sensible?
I always remember that moment last summer, or some moment the summer before, where I was enjoying life a little bit too much in some foreign country, and then having that urge to go home and make lots of dough so that I could have that feeling so many more times throughout my life. I remember thinking, "Well, this is some kind of ultimate high, and don't love it too much, because it's all downhill from here." You can't keep those moments forever; you can't even revisit them in your mind. They are like drugs or toxins that enter your bloodstream... that tease you and make you wanting more... but which lose their effect if taken in excess.
What am I saying here? That I need a vacation? A boyfriend, a house? To turn back time or accelerate it? Maybe just some guidance. Or a haircut. I need everything, and nothing at all.
Here, There, and Everywhere
I've got friends scattered all over the place right now. The one from Huntington Beach who I met in Los Angeles and now lives in Washington, D.C. just flew back to Huntington. The one who is from Portland and who I met in San Diego but moved to Laguna Beach just moved to New York City. The one who is from Walnut but now lives in Chicago just flew back to Walnut. The one from New Jersey who I met in San Diego but is now back in New Jersey is also flying back to San Diego, supposedly today. The one from Diamond Bar but who moved to Chicago but is in West Covina right now is flying back to Chicago in 2 weeks. The one who is from Minneapolis but now lives in San Diego is leaving soon for a tour.
Movers and shakers, all of them. Sort of hard to keep up with, and taking a step back, puzzling to make sense of why they're all displaced at the same time. I think tonight I'll put out one of those elementary school maps of the country and put color coded push pins on the spots where each are supposed to be right now, along with angular lines charting their exact itineraries. I'd like to be accurate about this.
Lunch And Other Ponderous Thoughts
There is this great little overpriced Thai place down the hill from where I work, called Saffron. Most central San Diegans know it. Their rotisserie chicken is scrumptious and fried noodle dishes fiery. When I'm having a sluggish day at work, I can very reliably be perked up by a midday visit there.
I wonder, however, how much of my patronage is due to the owner having posted up pictures of her and Martha Stewart together on the restaurant walls. By now, most close friends should know that I am some kind of sucker for Martha Stewart. She has made a total Attention K-Mart Shopper out of me, and you'd think that my apartment had a toxic mold problem, so verdantly decorated in green it is. So the real inquiry here is, what do I love more? Martha Stewart or Thai food? Ooh, that's a close one.
Speaking of Marthas, I saw that German movie last night, "Mostly Martha." It was charming, delightful, and very real. The overall theme of the movie was, "Germans are obsessive compulsive, and Italians know how to live life." Nothing I didn't already subscribe to; nice to see a self-deprecating take on it.
Congratulations to those law students of the Class of 2002 who just finished taking the Bar. I'm so proud of you that I'll get drunk with you tonight.
