Archive for the ‘Emo’ Category

Remember Me…


Ghandi said that whatever you do in life will be insignificant, but it’s very important that you do it ’cause nobody else will. Like when someone comes into your life and half of you says: “You’re nowhere near ready”. And the other half says: “Make her yours forever”.


Caroline asked me what would I say if I knew you could hear me. I said: “I do know. I love you. God, I miss you, and I forgive you”.


You once told me our fingerprints don’t fade from the lives that we touch. Is that true for everybody? Or was it just poetic bullshit?


This girl, her life slipped into me.


I guess that’s the lesson: don’t leave anything misunderstood, don’t postpone what you want… Because just like that… it could end.


Someone’s been trying to tell me something…”Make her yours forever.” I’m working on the forever part.

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Fix You



The passion, the music, the choreography. Allison is an amazing dancer, and Robert was phenomenal in this one. I especially loved the last few seconds of the piece, where Robert nudges Allison to take a step–to move forward. And when she could not do it on her own, I loved how he came up behind her, put her arm around his shoulders, lifted her and walked for her. It reminds me of that proverb: Footprints in the Sand.The person looked back at his life and noticed that in the hardest, saddest moments only one set of footprints were on the sand. He asked the Lord why He had abandoned him, but this was the reply:

I love you and I would never, never leave you
during your times of trial and suffering.
“When you saw only one set of footprints,
it was then that I carried you.”

Anyway, this contemporary piece choreographed by Travis Wall, totally made me cry because I have been in Robert’s shoes before. I have been around and loved people who have been broken before: emotionally, physically, medically, or psychologically. Sometimes, there’s nothing more that you can do for these people but to try…to look them in the eye and pledge your love and commitment.

My mother once said, “If you love someone, there is no such thing as sacrifice. You simply do everything in your power to protect the people you love. You carry their burdens and you love them more.”

So when the people you love are broken, you tell them to put all their weight on your shoulders. You pick them up when they are down even if it will mean you won’t be able to get up either. You hold them. You protect them. You love them. You tell them, “I will try to fix you.”

Most times, you can’t. No one can. Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away. Most of the time, even after having given it your all, you’re still left behind with nothing but the tears streaming down your face and the weariness of trying. But you don’t regret it–at least I don’t. How can you ever regret doing everything you could for someone that you loved?

Fix You by Coldplay

When you try your best, but you don’t succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can’t replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below
When you’re too in love to let it go
But if you never try you’ll never know
Just what you’re worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down on your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down on your face
And on your face I…

Tears stream down on your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down on your face
And on your face I…

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you


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Okay, okay…maybe not. I mean, I’m not a lawyer…yet.

But at least I’m making money again. And I’m busy again. And I’m feeling productive again.

There’s waitressing (yeah, don’t judge, you know it’s a noble profession *coughs*), tutoring (it’s rewarding, okay…), document reviewing, and researching/writing. So what if I have four bosses and I’m scheduled back-to-back-to-back?

I’m totally lovin’ it.

Like I told PMaster, I feel like my life has purpose again.

I love waking up in the morning feeling like I immediately have to get out of bed and work. I love that sense of direction and knowing what to do next. Yes, I’m going to miss waking up at 9 or 10, and even 11 on a few days, but nothing beats waking up and knowing that you’re getting something done today.

Love it.

Plus, I get free food from one job, interaction with kids at another, legal networking at another, and legal research at the other. Heck, I even get to wear a tie (and an apron). Once my schedule becomes much more settled and clearer, I’m also jonesing to start doing volunteer legal work at the SFBar Association. More networking, more of my foot (and hopefully a leg and an arm) in the door, and hopefully a job when (yes, when–i’m being optimistic here) I pass the bar.

Handsome H says he admires my moxie.

In reality, it was more of a near-fatal combination of boredom and the desperate need to do something more than stay at home all day.

Either way, I’m baaack in bidniz. Sort of.

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You guys are my poster children for how Love is Patient and Conquers All.

I was so excited to be there at your elopement in Vegas (you made me all emotional and happy and cry)…and I am equally excited for the upcoming wedding. It’s awesome to know that you’ve been together for over a decade, and still look at each other with stars in your eyes.


You keep me believing in True Love and Soulmates.

Thank you.

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I’ve been trying to figure out this strange restlessness in me, wondering when I’m going to “get there.” This blog entry pretty much nailed it. All the short-term pleasures are exactly that: short-term. I find myself wallowing in the troughs between the peaks of indulgence and wondering why I’m not “happy” at those times.

He calls it self-actualization–and I’ve been calling it my search for a “deeper meaning.”

I don’t know what to do yet. I am certainly still playing the “waiting game” of “when I get that job” then I can start figuring out the rest of my life.

But at least I know I’m not the only one trying to define happiness that lasts.

What is happiness anyway? It hit me across the back of the head like an angry parent. There I was, minding my own business, wallowing about in a mopey state of woe at my dissatisfaction with my own life, when reality bit me fair on the butt. Hard. I regularly bang on (and on, and on) about the importance of independence, that is, not seeking a partner to complete ones-self, but rather, ones who complements us. I rant on about the importance of goals, incremental personal … Read More

via View from Wit's End

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For someone unemployed, I seem to have even less time on my hands than when I was employed, or attending law school, or studying for the bar.

How is that possible?

Well, here’s what I’ve done so far:

Week 1 after the bar:

(1) Party

(2) Vegas

(3) More Vegas

(4) Pack Up

(5) Move back to NorCal

Week 2:

(1) Unpack

(2) Hang out with Handsome H

(3) Hang out with Diggles

(4) Hang out with the entire Pagan Fam (minus the Youngest ‘Un, I never see him).

(5) Unpack

(6) Hang out with Golds, Chewie & Celim

On the side:

I’ve applied to a bunch of jobs, finished two books (I’ve started on The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, though in the back of my mind, I keep thinking I should finish the Harry Potter series), and watched three full seasons of the X-Files (am now on Episode 1 of S4).

Yes, I am a nerd.

In addition:

I’ve even taken up gardening…somewhat. If lopping off tree branches and shaping hedges count as gardening. I’ve gotten the sprinkler system in the backyard to work, and I’m contemplating on what to do with the apples on the apple tree. Eating them sounds like a good idea, though I’ve never picked an apple off a tree before and then just eating it. I mean, what if there’s a worm in there?!? But it’s just sitting there in our backyard, taunting me with its abundance. It will happen one of these days. I’ve also managed to wrangle with the rose bushes in the backyard. I fell on it and got my ass pricked. Hey, those thorns…they’re kind of substantial. Almost as funny as the time I fell and sat on an upside down pin cushion in Home Ec class. Thank Kolleen, my then-bestfriend- for shoving me. Her punishment? She had to go to the girls restroom with me and pull needles and pins out of my ass. Damn right. True friendship.

Carpentry is on the list as well, as I’ve modified a bunch of Ikea products to fit certain household needs. Did you know that it’s ridiculously hard to saw through wood? Or maybe I’m just doing it wrong. I’ve put up a couple of crooked shelves, too. But if you put a bunch of stuff on it, you’d never know it was crooked. I’m not that bad.

Interior Design might also be an added skill, seeing as I’ve remodeled my room three times in one week trying to decide what I like best. I think I’m done for now.

Home Economics have also made a come back. I’ve sewn and hemmed my mother’s curtains and cooked several meals. I might take up cross-stitch, too. *Rolls eyes*


I look forward to doing:

1. finish reading The Girl with The Dragon Tattoo (then watch the movie)

2. finish reading Books 5, 6, and 7 of HP series

3. finish my writing sample so I can possibly get a “writing” position (yeah, pipe dream, but so what?)

4. of course, get a job, DUH.

and  yeah, there’s that tiny little thing called Passing the Bar. I can’t decide if I want November to be here sooner or never.

And that is all the time I have for now. Back to doing stuff. Here’s to Week 3 of Post-Bar unemployment.

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You tried to make cranberry sauce.

This was one of those lines from a story that I read that really just stayed with me. I read it sometime in 2006 and I come back to that story every now and then for something to make me smile.

It’s a short story written for a Thanksgiving Day writing challenge. It’s the last line in the story and it’s the answer the girl gives the guy when he asks her why she just hugged him. Their relationship had always been somewhat antagonistic, but in this little scene, there was tenderness, understanding, and a hug. Because he tried to make cranberry sauce.

I don’t expect you all to get the story, just the message behind the story. It reminds me all the time that it’s really the small things in life that add up to make you love someone. It’s the small things in life that make up a larger whole. It’s the little effort that matters. It’s the trying that counts.

Many times you will fail. But it also reminds me that it’s good to have people in your life who won’t just see your failure, but be able to look around at the disaster in the kitchen and realize that you tried your darnedest to make cranberry sauce. And then be able to give you a hug and appreciate it.

I go back to this story at least once or twice a year and every time it makes me smile. I hope I never get to a point where I have become so jaded that someone’s effort–though disastrous–no longer matters.  Everything is made up of the little things. I notice the little things, and yes, they do count.

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I’ve been watching Criminal Minds a lot lately. There’s just really nothing much on TV late at night, but there are some Criminal Minds reruns. There was a scene where they go through an “Un-Sub’s” (Unknown Subject) belongings. The Behavioral Analysis Unit goes through this guy’s stuff and makes all these assumptions about who he was, or what made him the way he was, or what the “trigger” was.

I looked around my room. What can someone tell about me based on the items in my room? Based on the books i have in my bookshelf, the kinds of shoes I have, my clothes, what’s in my bathroom, the pictures in the frames, the mix of neatness and order with hurried disarray.

They figured out the guy based on the minute and drastic changes in his drawings. I wonder (since I can’t draw to save my life) if they can figure me out based on my writings. Can you find my “trigger”? What drives me? What motivates me? Could they really tell from the stories that I write that I’ve changed?

It’s so interesting that there are people who can look at everything that surrounds the person and build a context of the life that person had. I look at my life and I can’t figure out how they would do it. I almost want to ask someone who works for the BAU to profile me. Just so I know who I am.

When you look at the people, the things you have and the things you create in your life…do you think they reflect who you think you are?

Go Team Jacob!

Go Lizard Repellent! Are You Only Available in India?

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Last Tuesday, I had my first-honest-to-goodness Bar-prep breakdown.

I was working on three essays, working on keeping everything under three hours. On the third hour, I realized the essay was on Torts. I had worked on Torts in the first week of bar prep. I was able to spot all the issues, but for the life of me, I just couldn’t get anything coherent onto paper.

I burst into tears.


I thought about how I could have possibly spent so much time on torts and not have remembered anything. I was probably being melodramatic at one point and going, “Why, God, whyyyy???” Then I wallowed in the piteous thought of how I would wake up everyday only to start the day over. My eyes would open and I’d think, “Aw, fudge, I have to study?” I mean, how bad does it have to be that I actually look forward to something really mundane like going to the post office to mail a letter just because it wasn’t studying. Then I get sad thinking about all the repercussions and consequences of what would happen if I failed this bar exam. I mean, the sacrifices my family has made, the faith people have in me, my own self-esteem… I can’t fail!

I have to be like Yoda on this one. Do or do not. There is no try.

But Yoda never said anything about liking it. And so, bursts forth more tears. I actually have a box of tissues next to me now, in case I ever have another Tuesday breakdown.


I’m definitely not one to just breakdown and cry over work or stress. I’m a workaholic to the very core of that definition. When I was working professionally, if my bosses didn’t tell me to go home, I would have stayed in the office all night.  Most of the time, I didn’t really care that I was still at work. I do like working. It gives me purpose in life.

So…this whole crying over work was really weird for me. I kind of just looked around my big empty apartment and it just made me even more sad. I had an instructor on TV in the living room and I thought how utterly defeating it was that I would have a lecture on just so I can hear someone else talking to me.

Although, I would probably have to warn you that last Tuesday, I went to bed at 2 AM and woke up at 5 AM, drove all the way to the city of Taft in Kern County to take care of my speeding ticket. I had already driven for five hours that day, and was in the last hour of a three hour self-imposed practice exam. I pretty much already had a full eight hours under my belt

Probably not the wisest move on my part.

I was just exhausted and crashing so fast by mid-afternoon so that by the time I realized I didn’t know jack about products liability, I burst into tears.

I looked at the clock. Dear Lord, it was only 2:13 PM. I still had hours of studying ahead of me. And because I had gone to court in the morning, I had to allocate my work-out and dinner time towards that. I didn’t feel like I had a break in sight. I was feeling very sorry for myself at this point.

Pillows Don't Hug Back Either

So then, I hugged myself.

At which point, I cried even harder. I just wanted a hug and there was no one around to give me one! WAAAH!!!

I went over to my room, threw myself onto my bed and laid out all my pillows (I have a LOT of pillows…I’m kind of a pillow-whore) around me so I was cocooned in soft warm goodness. I felt better. It made me think of those autistic kids and the hug machines that they had. I think I should perhaps invest in one, at least for the duration of Bar Prep.

I think what scares me the most is that sometimes I need emotional support (I mean, who doesn’t?) when I feel like…well, when I feel like Tuesdays. I don’t mean I want to be coddled or be told things I already know. I don’t want blind faith in my ability to pass this exam, and I don’t want to hear how you understand that it’s horrible. Because really, I think it’s horrible for different people in different ways.  What I do need is a hug. I miss big bear hugs that just make you feel safe and sheltered from the big bad world out there. And I need laughter. Lots and lots of laughter.

If you know me at all, you know that I believe laughing is the best thing on earth. I will always gravitate towards the people who make me laugh (and who will laugh at my extremely lame jokes in return).

However, with Bar Prep, all of my best friends are kind of gone. We are all locked away in our individual ivory towers of solitude and studyhood. It’s almost impossible to find a moment of impromptu laughter. I miss that so bad.

So you know what I did? I got out of my cocoon of pillow hugs, grabbed my laptop, stuck my tongue out at my products liability essay, and went online.

Then I watched Modern Family.

If there was one tv show that could genuinely make me laugh out loud, it’s Modern Family. I mean, not to be disloyal to Big Bang Theory or anything (because Sheldon, I do love you), but ABC actually posts full episodes of MF, while CBS doesn’t post any full episodes of BBT (but the short clips still have me in stitches!)  But, I seriously suggest you check Modern Family out. It’s such a good stress reliever. After a half-hour of laughing, you really feel like you can conquer the world.  After that fix, I got back on to work.

Life was well. Sort of. I mean, I still had to study.

And um… on a final note:

Pretty Please?

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