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I've moved! http://www.psuperfluous.blogspot.com
I thought of publicizing all the entries here, but instead I am leaving up those I enjoyed writing and those with amusing comments. I also thought I would finish all that before writing this post, but turns out 5 years is a lot to sift through so the trudge continues. I've only dented the 2005 entries, but most of the reading has been entertaining to say the least. Though speaking of, why was I never asleep? Every entry was at 3am. Anyway, I'm glad to close this chapter, and thanks to everyone who's read so faithfully. This is turning out to be a very odd post. I'm sure I'll speak to you all some time soon. Au revoir!
Love,
ph
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| I can't believe Christmas is next Tuesday or that it's even December to begin with. I've been in such a lull for the past couple of weeks. I don't even want to wrap presents or send out cards. Maybe the holidays are just depressing this year with all the forced happiness. I just want to be left alone to wallow, though over what I have no idea. Everything's been going my way and life is finally coming together. But still, I feel something's missing. I do so much and yet still feel unproductive. Maybe I just need more coffee though I can't even find my favorite and ridiculously expensive coffee thermos. I also created a new blogsite. I'll link to it next time. Happy holidays everyone. Read good books.
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| 12:38am
I just got back from a wonderful evening with my sweetheart at the Hollywood Bowl where we saw Pink Martini, Carol Channing, and a firework show afterwards. The music was amazing, and we had a really good time though the weather was a bit nippy. Before then, we roamed around Pasadena where we saw a $3 million house poorly, or rather too richly, decorated but with very, very comfortable bedrooms. Funny how that conventional feeling of wanting to settle down and just be happy with someone eventually steals over even the best of us.
I'm visiting San Diego this weekend and expecting to be busy for the new few weeks so I don't think I'll be updating very much. I'd like to revamp this website when I have some time if anyone has tips. Or maybe I'll move the URL altogether, who knows. I also don't know what to write anymore. My daily life? Sporadic updates? Emotional rambles? Tragic epiphanies? I feel my posts becoming skewed in some direction. What do you think I should write about?
In the meantime, something I wrote but was too lazy to upload a few days ago:
September 14, 7:42pm
I'm actually sitting in the backyard with some iced water enjoying the breeze on a summer evening; they've been very few this year. I've managed to have an irritating day though nothing substantial has happened, and I haven't even been outside until now.
I went to a wedding a few weeks ago for a guy I grew up with and hadn't talked to for 12 years. I remember going to his house with a friend when I was 8. He sat on the floor hunched over the coffee table, shaggy haired and wearing a faded purple t-shirt. He was taping a jigsaw puzzle together to frame and was the first person I'd seen do that. I remember thinking how weird it was as I always did my puzzles again and again that I could finish my 1000 pieces before 2 episodes of "Doug" had ended. What a waste of a puzzle, I thought. I stood in front of the restaurant, waiting for my parents to finish gabbing with some people they'd run into. Outside was this giant picture of the couple on a beach, her running away in a giant white dress and him chasing after her in less of an "I love you forever" sort of way and more of a "please don't leave me on our wedding day" manner. Why on earth would you choose this pose? And then to blow it up and display at the entrance? Immediately inside was a table of skinny grinning girls wearing all the makeup they owned. Behind was a scurry of people, talking and walking around shaking this hand and that. I stood alone and somewhat overwhelmed that I'll ask the groom where the groom is. I don't even know what he looks like. In fact, I don't even remember his last name. Then a guy came out of my periphery and before I could even say anything, he hugged me and said, "her name's Phuong too". I was touched that he even remembered me. We had several small conversations throughout the night as he nudged me playfully, but that was it. I left without saying goodbye. We never exchanged numbers, and I'll probably never see him again. For most of my life, I've been a surprisingly sentimental person. I keep people in my life and in my thoughts for the sake of once strong friendships, but I've accepted that sometimes people grow away and apart. And that's okay. It doesn't make you a bad friend or a bad person. You obviously didn't have some steel-forged friendship, but you still had a good one and in the long run, I think that's enough.
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| I've started this about 20 times and have either failed to finish or produced something completely useless. My motivation to write has gone on vacation and methinks it may be extending the trip.
Thuyet, I'm sorry we couldn't hang out one last time before I left LA and Sonia, I hope you're enjoying your stay in India.
I've occupied all my time with recreational reading and discovered I'm quite the ambitious reader during long idle summers. I create this race with myself to finish as many books as I can, and I'm not too sure it's healthy for me. I'm currently working on Anita Rau Badami's The Hero's Walk, which was recommended by Suvir, but before that, it was Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal as told by Christopher Moore, who is rapidly becoming my hero of sorts. I almost never rave about contemporary literature and when I do, it's always a book, never an author, but this man has a rare talent in my eyes and that is the unique ability to blend the structured with the personal in writing. My senior year in high school, I struggled with writing and Kriesel (my teacher) told me I was trying too hard to be someone I'm not. I've come to realize the biggest, most difficult challenge in writing is not the grammar nor the rhetoric. It is not so much the search for prosaic meter or your place in literary heritage but rather just the rhythm of your own voice. At the risk of sounding like a hippie or fanatic, I think most people write without ever really feeling it, and you sense the disconnect between author and pen. The ability to write well according to standards and the blend of wit, of personality, that's something I find so rare and hard to achieve. Yes, the books all seem to have a silly subject matter and you oftentimes find yourself greeting inappropriate jokes, but his characters are more whole and real than most I've ever come across. I think he writes with skill and without pretention, and I've come to admire his work immensely. My two cents.
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japanese gum - her space holiday
the first PostSecret that touched me:
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Lifetime
