5:34am First Over-Night

spent the whole night re-laying out my website. making sure that everything is tip-top right. 

pixels by pixel. 

listening to Stateless "Prism"

tired enough to be dreaming about going home for a split second to flirt with the bed, get up and go to work. 

no more countdowns for two days. 'cause it annoys people. and it makes them anxious. where I was a few weeks ago. 

that 18 hour day was good. I didn't die, and now I know it's possible. feasible. 

almost had dinner with mom and sis. but the train wasn't running accordingly. so that didn't happen. 

and something something about expectations. ja. 

time to ready myself and go. 

fight girl battle world. some nice things happening. hill country and down to W4th. 

5:39am

1:44am OSD o-eight.

make sure I wake up at 6 so I'm on time. do radio judging. a breeze. would've liked to meet the judges.

k. k. should be better.

design judging was a trial in itself. the point is that it's been a long day. talked to both drivers. one said it's shit. the other said it's a better job. and a $40,000 computer in his car? that doesn't make sense now. maybe $4,000. but the extra zero is just absurd.

among other things. I don't see mom for 2 or three days straight. and she misses me. this is going to be one of those moments I'll remember.

because I wrote it down.

and keep on keeping on tomorrow. nice.

this post needs to be mended.

3:35am Work-ork-ork.

OSD tomorrow.

35 days until May 5th.

'bout twelve hours 'til Ji's class. homework.

'tis cold.

read about Steve Jobs. how charismatic he is. in an inspiring sense only if you can meet his standards and go his way. otherwise, you're a jerk-face, scum-bag.

interesting thing to learn.

he was a millionaire by 25. I have two more years.

not that it's about the money, but you know, it'd be nice. if you factor in the rate of inflation, I probably need to be a multimillionare to catch up.

not that it's about catching up, but that it'd be nice. it'd be.

idbe.

set up for OSD. class for sal was cancelled and no one bothers to tell me. nice.

research more than execution. not that my executions are exceptional.

while reading the article on Steve, there were quite a few words that weren't in my daily vocab bucket. which makes me think that I should read more. higher level things.

and while I might not use the words daily, I felt what they mean.

and speaking of designing. yea. not for me. not in that sense. but in a different sense.

and with that. it's 3:40.

0:38 my titles don't mean much

that's what I realized while looking at my livejournal archives.

work today. it's work every day. at the library. they start playing live jazz in the back. WTF? it's the library.

some things I wrote while on my way back home tonight:

everyone writes autobiographies, this is me getting an early start.

undisciplined writing is what I do. I thrash the keyboard around.. it hangs by the cord. pick up loose keys, and rearrange them into words. might be messy. but it's worked so far.

"the truth is..." and I couldn't read what she was writing in her diary any more. it was on the 6 train and I was getting off. it's different from reading over someone's shoulder. slightly.

about living life. I enjoy reading. currently reading "born standing up" steve martin's biography. good stuff.

things learned so far. just do things. do what I love. at this moment in time. it's not to do an ad for sapporo beer. I want to stay up and finish that book. read through the night. 'til my eyes tear up.

read 'til I need glasses. (which I currently don't wear; important distinction).

it's hot. I'm tired. but there are only 37 days left.

don't know why I'm counting down. no idea why. it's destructive obsession.

0:46am. bam. 4:45am wake up. maybe I should stay up all night. might be better for morale.

1:06

mother.

sis spent the whole day with her at the hospital. a check up.

but it's unnerving. you never know what's going to happen. something can happen. anything. and it will.

good thing nothing happened. waiting for half the day until their turn. finally come home to see mom sleeping. with the bandage around her right hand. where they stick the needle thing in.

so she tells me how everything went. retelling it twice as if the first time didn't count. and it's the most that we ever talk about.

so I'm sitting by, and listening. and this image of mom laying on a hospital bed comes into my mind. and I have momentary flash of how horrible it'd be if she was weaker, and it was the hospital and she was talking as if there isn't much time for anything else.

as if something bad did happen.

and that sucks.

death worries me. I don't know how I'd deal with it. I can't see beyond that point. it's my opaque glass ceiling. can't go past it. can't see past it.

not until it's here and I have to experience it. and I dread it. it's beyond my control.

the only thing I can do is anything before that moment arrives. but I'm too busy with school.

god, how I'd regret it if I miss out on anything important because school was blocking my view. it wouldn't be worth it and I'd quit graphic design. I'd put down my x-acto knife away for good.

how different is a scalpel from an x-acto knife? probably not too far. distant cousins or fraternal twins (just wikipediaed it).

never knew, now I know.

death worries me. mother's and sis's and maybe dad's. yeah. and mine. time is running out.

I'll say it again until I can improve on it. if I could only live one life, what would I do?

you only live once. which should be more than enough. it isn't.

I look forward to no more schooling, but twenty-four-seven learning. should be the best summer yet. has to be.

00:45

Things I can only tell you when you're not here.

moral of the day. figure out what you want. figure out what I want.

that's half the battle. the non-violent kind.

I was writing to an imaginary audience before, now I know there's at least one reader. besides me. and the future me.

worked today. then tried to do some layouts. but ended up half-working half talking. half-showing my past work. previous portfolio. things that I had done already and were of no interest to me except to see some reaction from dah-yee looking at it.

hmm. mouth is healing along. had a burrito when I should've had soup. hale'n'hearty would've been heavenly. but I wasn't thinking.

spent the day uploading data that could've been done in a quarter of the time had they wanted to. but that's what they pay me for and there are other things to worry about.

feeling for today: tired. but that's always. it wasn't hard to get up. so that was okay. it's barely 1am, and I'm tired.

there's a long list of things to do.

thought about how this'd be a great way for me to keep in touch with you if you had time to read it. but chances are that I'm overthinking things and you're busy hanging out with your roomates and this, that, and the other thing. yes. the other thing.

so we have to talk again. which reminds me of breaking up with someone with a post-it. sex and the city, right?

but this isn't HBO. we're not breaking up, and I'm whispering things into a hole like in 2046.

whispering is metaphorically, of course.

I've been yearning for some digital device where I can store my life. write long and short forms. look things up online. and if I had this magical device that had a full size keyboard yet fit into my front pocket, life would be bliss.

everything would be alright. red-carpet unfurls as I float by, and flower petals rise from the subway track.

I'd have everything in one place. schedules, to-dos. brilliant ideas. everything.

my laptop is too heavy. too big. too expensive to whip out in the middle of rush hour to write down, "email frank" or better yet. look for that text that I need to send him.

except there's no wi-fi on the N, or R. nor any other train for that matter.

if I want a new phone. 2-year jail sentence comes standard. why do you need to lock me up when I just want some form of imaginary freedom? let it sync and life is good.

eighty a month is crazy enough, and I keep on giving it to you. that's fine. no. I don't think it'd work, I need me full size keyboard to think.

If you could only live one life, what would you do?

0:23 I wish I could.

write every day.

every. day. and maybe twice a day. that'd be amazing. or very good for my soul. though I don't know if I would really have much to write about if I just spent my day writing life away.

watching the simpsons halloween special V. with the commentaries on. I'd like to watch the entire series on DVD with commentaries and deleted scenes. but that'd require some effort and time that I probably won't have again 'til school's out. then I can just buy the whole set for 200 bucks.

It'd be worth it.

wisdom wound is better now. had actual food today. carefully. writing in silence. under the glow of the screen. it's 0:42am now.

good stuff.

good. so what am I going to editorialize about today? about what? what? what?

wake up at 1pm. eat. head to school. try to do some work. not much gets done. talk about the reject show with suckzoo. slight change of plans.

I doubt whether we can pull it off. but this plan seems more sensible.

received feedback from ji. relationships drive me crazy. I'm not good at them at all.

random random.

also emails back from matt. and wayne. but no words back from debbie or david. which is lame. if you want to say no. why not say no instead of saying no by omission?

what kind of a world do we live in? why is it so much easier to not do anything instead of outright rejection?

don't people know that not knowing isn't a nice feeling?

read about Leo Burnett and Bill Bernbach and Greg something. and a bit on David Ogilvy.

so my thoughts are:

they didn't plan on being in advertising. in order to be interesting, you have to be interested. plain and simple.

so all these immortals that didn't have it in their childhood dreams to become admen, have. what does this say about my generation of schooled ad-kids? shouldn't I be diving into the unknown where I can do whatever I want through stumbling through doors?

make my own way. because the ad industry is too established already.

or just move out and go somewhere else. go where chance will lead me. and live that way. things aren't planned out nicely.

I already don't like having an open blog, 'cause people will read. and I can't be honest. this sucks already. already. already.

lame.

did I learn anything today?

it's saturday night and I'm about to go to sleep. it's barely 1am. eeking midnight out.

I'm switching over to filtering things out. there is no audience anyway.

3:10am

I don't know why I'm up at three in the morning. The days are in hyper-drive-space travel-mode now. Feels like I just wrote yesterday, but that was thursday.

maybe because I'm doing so many things that it feels as if there is no white space between the acts themselves.

and spring break is over.

on friday I spent the day working. better yet. on thursday I spent the day working. when I say working, I mean for money. as opposed to doing homework. which is also for money, but that's in the long run.

Thursday at the office entering data. until 7pm. then I don't remember what I did. it's all blank.

Maybe I came home. maybe I went to school and tried working on things. I think I went to school.

Then Friday was here. I was hoping that going in to work and seeing the OC crew would make me feel better. but for some reason, I was cranky all day.

and I'm never cranky. felt like a fifth grader throwing wooden toy-tantrums for the sake of calling attention to myself. or because I knew that others would tolerate it because it's so infrequent.

rolling and cutting paper. talking about why I'm tired even though I've been not sleeping enough for the past two weeks. spring break is here. and that's irrelevant.

ordered lunch. chinese, which I didn't want to begin with. but I didn't want to be the jerk with a bowl of salad while everyone else was eating family style.

when lunch finally arrives, my order is somehow not present. so everyone pities little old me and offers their food.

I was finally having "one of those days" that people have. it's just one of those days. ah. I get it. I don't want to have it any more. maybe this is what's it's like to PMS. without the cramping. and extra mess.

left a bit early. went to BN on fourteenth. browsed. read how, which isn't that great of a magazine at all. saw some computer magazines with nice tutorials and methods of packaging a DVD within the mag.

met up with suckzoo and rachel for wontons in chinatown. which wasn't enough food for me. and I get hungry at night. friday night trying to figure things out online. replying to posts on craigslist for my website project. get spam. and other offers.

I don't know why I'm stressing over this thing. it's killing me. I'm wilting.

reading "designing interfaces." great book.

headache. have to get up at 6am. that's in 2.5 hours. not even three. why am I up and writing?

because I didn't yesterday. and if I don't do this, I might go insane in the brain.

upset at how I'm speedwalking everywhere. it gives me a sense of purpose. I'm permanently stuck on fast-mode. it's jammed and I don't see why I should fix it before may 2nd.

went to the MoMA yesterday, I want to go again. too many people looking at the elastic mind exhibition. mondays and fridays. sweet. except I work those two days.

I'll figure something out. I want to go to the Guggenheim.

didn't get to see everything I want to because I was late and still residually cranky from everything. suckzoo and dahyee. photos. went to eat in chinatown. bought red duck-tape and kung-fu shoes. I was high from inspiration. felt that I could make anything with duck-tape. there has to be a story for naming it "duck-tape"

ate. not really enough food. hung out at the park. watching old people at the park gather and play chinese chess. smoke and talk. pass the day.

the geriatric hang out spot.

mom calls. left her keys at home. I meet her. go home. and I pass out at 6pm 'til 12am. wake up and work on my website 'til 5:45am pass out again and wake at 1pm. eat and some more website. then head out to the office again for data entry at 5:30pm 'til 1:15am. and now I'm back home writing about my inconsequential days.

it's almost over. that's why I have to be stuck on hypersuperdrive. damn it. I'm not enjoying this.

but maybe I'll look back at this and learn something. be glad that I was this stupid and myopic about everything.

listened to more design matters. didn't know how far into the first season I had listened to, so I'm working my way backwards. learned some things. still fun. reduces my productivity. but makes working so much more tolerable. my first official multitasking.

came home. preparing for tomorrow. have to return the camera I didn't really do much with. I shouldn't check it out any more unless I have specific plans to use it.

I hope I'm not late tomorrow. wake up at 6am. leave at 7. get there at 8am. I should've rescheduled. too late now. it's in a couple of hours.

there I go being cryptic again.

3:34am. my fingertips are cold.

2:39am

First post in a long time.

First post for this blog.

Decided that I want to share my writing. Because my fanbase is clamoring to read my thoughts, and I'm a generous person.

and because if I'm going to put down "copywriter" on my resume, I should at least pretend to know some English.

and when I was thinking about this in the library today, I thought about the things I would filter out. because this won't be like my other hidden blog. where no one gets to read it. unless you hack into blogger.

and that led to other thoughts. mainly, how much do we know anyone? people spend half their life married to strangers that turn out to be gay.

suddenly, your father is gay. your mother is a lesbian. your husband was the way he was because of all this.

and these are the people we're married to. live with under the same roof. share the same bed.

so. how much can you really know anyone? what about yourself? you sure must know yourself if you're going to know anyone, right?

but what are mid-life crises? isn't it when you're reevaluating your life because it's not what you wanted it to be? but how'd you get there? what do you want?

things I thought about. it's okay if other people read these posts. 'cause most people won't. most people are allergic to words.

they'd rather hang out with images. visual candy for your sweet-tooth.

words require effort. and you can't be sure that you'll be rewarded after trudging through that slog of serifed letters.

you might get tired of it. and come out empty handed with no refund for your time.

and I didn't want this to be me blabbering about my day. maybe it could be substantial. some topic that I pick every day. write about. and bam. publish more sophisticated writing. more polished. and actually capitalize the beginning of my sentences.

but when writing becomes a must, it loses that magical feeling for me. that escape. I want to just write the way some people just want to smoke pot. do coke. drink beer. have sex.

it's a release from my day. I vent and things are digitized. I don't have to worry about storing them. they are already stored. the wonders of technology.

what's wrong with venting about my day? it doesn't matter that forty thousand other people write about themselves. this is a vain venture into myself. about myself. and for me. if others want to tag along. that's fine with me.

no goals in mind. except to write every day. for at least thirty minutes. that's the minimum, right?

that way, I can trick myself into sitting down, recapping my thoughts and maybe write something meaningful.

I wanted to get up at 6am this morning to go run on a treadmill for 2 miles or 20 minutes. whichever one brought on the stitches first. but I got up at 1pm. had lunch. went to school. and worked on things. went to the library and checked out books.

saw annie and anna working together. which makes me sad that I haven't had the chance to work with everyone in my year. and makes me wonder how much more fun the rest of the year could be.

I'd spend all day at the library with a laptop reading and surfing and writing. I would. ::le sigh:: one of these days. maybe right after graduation I'll do that.

read, absorb, and write.

tried to figure out how to use movable type. couldn't completely figure it out. not even partially. then went to the Office and entered data for four hours. listened to debbie on design matters. emily oberman. michael bierut. jessica helfand. carin goldberg. I think those were it.

thoroughly enjoyed each one. the insights and thoughts from listening to them was inspiring. they were all different. different types of thoughts.

emily was slightly different from what I imagined her to be. it was cute when she talked about Paul and their arguments during collaboration. how inspiring he is to her. the same with jessica helfand and her husband. they were pretty awesome in critiquing the design community and the education we receive as students.

oh. and brian collins. definitely stuck on high energy all the time.

hmm. maybe for the first couple of posts I'll write responses to design matters.

they all talk about lack of feedback in the work that they do. so this will be my response. bam. done.

came home at 1:40am while reading designing interfaces on the train. already some insights as to understanding your user and what they expect.

it's time to go. almost. I need ten more minutes of blabbering.

while listening to debbie, I thought about whether it'd be possible for me to be a writer about design/advertising issues and topics. are they out there already? feels like I'd need writing classes. rigorous routines in writing and rhetoric.

be more focused instead of wandering through the prairie.

haven't been doing any homework for the last couple of days. I really don't know why. where has the time disappeared to?

annie and anna said I lost weight. my eyes were puffy from pot. and I see the puffy pot-eyes. not sure about the thinness. maybe it's because I haven't been sleeping enough. it drains me internally without my consent. and I loose weight.

these past ten days have been blurred. the week glides and blends. gradients into night and day. nothing really separates A from B. they're ligatured.

I need to sit down and do nothing for a day. but the count down has already started. May 2nd. and in a sense. May 1st is our last day.

May 16th graduation. commencement exercises. and then the rest of my life begins.

my hands are drier than usual. lotion and water?

read an interesting movement trying to rebrand tap water. to make it cool again. that bottled water isn't any better than tap. and it's true. research confirms it. and I believe it. so why even buy bottled water? convenience?

all that recyclable plastic never is. they end up in landfills.

my neck hurts. shoulder and neck. don't know why. lack of sleep. poor posture? this definitely constitutes as rambling. how many words are we at now? way too many.

maybe the goal will be to sustain one thought for half an hour. that'd be nice.

saw Du's video and it's weird to watch someone's voice-over while they're standing in front of the camera silently.

slightly surreal.

made me feel nostalgic about this year already. I'm going to be 25 in two years. that's insane. quarter of my life spent. and where am I headed? where is anything headed?

to end on a random note: es un gato con una pipa!