It’s been so long since I’ve posted that I could barely remember my password. At times, I dislike being at home because that’s when I’m the least productive. But of course, the comfort from just being with supportive family and friends is what the holidays are all about. I’m sorely missing June and her wild antics and though we do keep in touch, I’d still rather be with her. She seems to be doing well at home, giving me raspberries over the phone and enjoying making me jealous of her familial cohesiveness.

Yesterday, I went to Jordan Brewer’s house for this random reunion of sorts and it was pretty great to see all those old codgers around. Jordan looks a bit more in shape, perhaps due to the influence of his frat brothers but otherwise, everyone’s still the same. Kyle is still his old jolly self and still dating that Tiffany girl. Fred seems to be enjoying his “I’m really much younger than I look” look as he’s working for the Obama camp in San Antonio. Yvonne even came over from Houston to pay a visit, which was pretty cool. Everyone seems to be doing more or less great and their old usual selves as Nate and co. were quick to show the fabled 2girls1cup to everybody. Sadly, the reactions were actually more entertaining than that that rancid video. Whatever happened to those online “I’m over 18” consent forms? I’m still shuddering.

So I’m home and bundled up like one of those ridiculous little children you see waddling around in wintercoats. Whatever, I’m thinking that the sickness welling up in my eyes is making my writing a bit dark, depressed, and weary even though I’m totally fine. I’m pretty stoked since I did just dandy this semester though my extracurriculars were a bit lacking. I guess I’ll start volunteering this coming semester and I’ll have to take a serious look at going to Africa. It’s a big bummer because my parents are ardently opposed to anything associated with Africa since they think it’s incredibly dangerous which it might well could be. Sadly, I don’t think that showing them movies like Blood Diamond or The Last King of Scotland would help either.

I can’t wait to get back to Houston and finally be able to exchange gifts and such. The anticipation is pretty exciting although I worry that my highly coveted items won’t come in time. Still, I miss my little darling like no other.

Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can’t remember the last thing you said as you were leavin’
Now the days go by so fast

And it’s one more day up in the canyons
And it’s one more night in Hollywood
If you think that I could be forgiven... I wish you would

The smell of hospitals in winter summer
And the feeling that it’s all a lot of oysters, but no pearls
All at once you look across a crowded room
To see the way that light attaches to a the girl

And it’s one more day up in the canyons
And it’s one more night in Hollywood
If you think you might come to California... I think you should

Drove up to the Hillside Manor sometime after two a.m.
And talked a little while about the year
I guess the winter makes you laugh a little slower,
Makes you talk a little lower about the things you could not show her

And it’s been a long December and there’s no reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better that the last
I can’t remember all the times I tried to tell myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass

And it’s one more day up in the canyon
And it’s one more night in Hollywood
It’s been so long since I’ve seen the ocean... I guess I should 

Here's a link to those who don't have the song:
http://www.reddirtscene.com/music/Counting%20Crows/Live%20from%20the%2010%20Spot/A%20Long%20December.mp3

I gave this song to my wonderful girlfriend of one year and one month and still counting as part of a ninth month anniverssary present to help her get through the winter in which we couldn't see each other. As I listen back on the songs that i've given her, this one stands out and reaches out to me for some peculiar reason. When I listened to the song, I seemed to omit the words that I didn't quite like. I looked up the lyrics and I was surprised. Though I recognize that it's only human that we pull in what happens in media (tv, plays, lyrics) and apply them to our own lives, I still thought this song was pretty freakin' poignant. Now, ironically, it's helping me through parts of the summer which are particularly tough. I suppose it's all about how we look at something, but I know it's going to get tougher and as much as I hate to admit it as a guy, I'm pretty attached to this wonderful girl. I used to think that some parts of the song were annoying in that it seems to drag on but now I enjoy the song in it's entirety. 

Now, that was much ado about just a song.  Well, beyond the usual drama it's fine I suppose but I know it could always be better. So my english professor e-mails me and basically tells me that my last essay for the class was so vastly improved that she didn't think I wrote it. I e-mailed her back with angry pleas but I still haven't heard from her. Today, I went to dinner with some family friends and Don who took his girlfriend who he's taking to China with him. We talked about our dreams and how he wants to work 80 hours a week for two years doing investment banking. Then, we just chatted over a game of pool. That was good and fun, but bigger things were on my mind.

It's depressing because I so deeply want to be there for her but at the same time I have to be there for my family. We had a 'family talk today'. It was one of those that you dread but you know it's for the good of cohesion. We talked about the housing business which my mom has a hard time getting used to. She is more rigid and prefers strict rules for business while my dad is softer and more lenient in the business. Today, they argued like little kids and only after a while did they realize it. I hope things will get better.  After today, I find myself once again cautiously optimistic about my future with June. She's an incredibly charming girl whose needs I entirely understand. I understand the things that she's going through and I regret that I can't physically be there to comfort her when I want to. Things were simpler before.

Anyways, I'm going to stop before I start to really ramble.

I'm going to learn how to play that damned song on the piano, too.

I really regret the fact that I only use Livejournal to rant and rave about my pretty mundane life. I guess right now, my mood isn't the greatest for countless reasons. For these reasons, I hope no one will take offense to what I might write. Oohhh, the pen, oh so dangerous.

It's really when you don't have much that you realize how good life was in the past. I'm in San Antonio right now since Rice got out pretty darned early. I've spent the past few days slightly miserable while helping my parents move to another house here. I guess I'll miss the old place given that I've been here for so long.

So here I am, stuck in the jittery cycle of randomly checking grades on Esther or Owlspace. Half a year has gone by since the summer and things have never been more different. I feel that everyone I know has matured or changed somehow, whether they are more jaded, lively, or simply just more wise. It still comes with some sweet sorrow in realizing we’re not those kids that loafed around in malls and hung out all day. It’s hard to believe that it’s already going to be my fourth semester next year. With the new semester comes a relatively fresh slate. Perhaps this is the time to make my new year’s resolutions.

I went on five day cruise to the sunny white sanded beaches of Cozumel. The trip was overall a low-key and boring but I suppose it was an overall positive bonding experience. I met up with kids whom I haven’t seen in the longest time. Their apparent youth and liveliness made me feel like an old codger. Of course, they asked me about my girlfriend and I answered whatever curious questions they conjured which made me miss that little lady even more. Codger, by the way, is a funny word, and I like to use it. On a different note, I thought it was funny how my parent’s bed intermittently vibrated for no reason, but they didn’t find such an annoyance amusing. The cruise ship seemed to be a big smoke filled tub losing its 80’s panache. By the second day at sea, I grew tired of the neon lights and smoke filled bars that dotted the interior. The cruise ship seemed like a big floating shitty version of Las Vegas. They even had ‘Vegas’ styled shows complete with second rate dancers who probably got rejected from the actual Las Vegas. Secretly, I hoped the ship would rock and one of them would topple over.  The ship was staffed with foreign nationals who spoke English which made the trip somewhat interesting. Strangely, the staff didn’t consist of many western Europeans save the ship’s officers who were all Italian and the chefs/maître d who were French. I wondered if they hired people from Lithuania and Nigeria because they could pay them less and threaten deportation, but that’s just the pessimistic side of me talking.

The port of Cozumel was dotted by both little shops and big name shops like Versace. There was two other cruise ships docked which made the island seem more and more like a tourist trap. There were Mexicans dressed as Indians which reminded me of an anthropology class I took as a freshman. It outlined how some peoples, in taking advantage of foreign tourism, make themselves seem more primitive such that a cultural façade exists to mask their real culture. But the ‘Mayan’ Indians were fun and my mom pretended to be horrified of them. A jeep tour of a Mayan temple, a lighthouse, and then the beach awaited us. The Mayan temple turned out to be a five foot tall stone building with doors two feet high. The diminutive little structure seemed like an outhouse built for midgets but the guides called it a watchtower for the roads. I couldn’t help but think how the trip would have been more interesting if June came along. She would have loved the fine sand of Cozumel in contrast with the glass shards of Galveston but perhaps not so much the cloudless skies since she’s a fob.

After the cruise, we drove back to San Antonio after spending some time in Chinatown. Apparently, there are two Chinatowns in Houston according to Justin. There is apparently one on Bellaire and one downtown somewhere. The trip back was thankfully uneventful. I’ve spent the past few days getting in touch with old friends and actually doing some late holiday shopping and enjoying the evening chat with June. But alas, I am making… something special.

I’ve come to yet more conclusions. This time, I've noticed that I need a break or at least I need to somehow manage my time more efficiently. Memory is such a weird thing. Today, I stumbled upon old conversations saved on my computer. A torrent of strange, warm, and perhaps even bittersweet emotion formed a deluge of warmth over my weary little head. This amalgamation of random thoughts collected over time may not make sense to you, but who writes, with the exception of warm and endearing letters of course, for other people anyways?

I hope I’m not the only one who feels a lost sense of longing when lost relics of nostalgia are brought into mind. I truly cherish and long for those days of youth when I could play for hours on end without the big gorilla of reality knocking on the door. Quite simply, I yearn for an easier time, more linear, when I could ride my bike and dare to break bones. Sadly, I remember the warm and toasty mornings of youth when I could vegetate for hours doing nothing in particular, shielded by the blurring fires of childhood. But now, the fires are dwindling and one day we’ll be ejected from the ever translucent womb that we call college.

I for one would hope to be a doctor or go to grad school if I didn’t make cuts. But with any of these wondrous not-so-youthful desires, there exists the necessity to excel. It’s not merely a desire or a want but an absolute necessity.  So somehow to me, I cannot merely amble along. We’re young, bright, and fortunate; we can do anything with our lives and we must do everything we can. I refuse to settle for less. My childhood whimpered but I squashed it like a rebellion in the USSR. Gone were the hours of carefree play and summer vacation. The weight of the world burdens us all but we must bear it and persevere.

But that’s my pessimistic side talking. A wise Korean once said, “No worries, one day at a time”. Surprisingly, I feel more upbeat about pretty much everything even though this year’s workload is much worse.

Favourites:
Dramatic flair of books.
A little (feisty) cat.
Little things in general, except weird little people.
Midday massages, or giving them at least.
Skipping class on a whim.
Not worrying because you’re doing everything you can to mitigate it.

Anti-Favourites:
Dramatic flair of books experienced first person.
Beaver faces.
Not-so-little Japanese people named Matsuda.
Midday carbons.
Worrying because you’re not doing enough.

So, summer has pretty much rounded off and it has amounted to so little and yet still so much. I’ve done so little yet so much has happened. The lab’s still getting set up and research is progressing a bit slowly and I’ve somewhat tamed a tiger into a lynx.

With the coffee wearing off, I’m beset by some form of fatigue which reminds me of the sleep filled days of senior year. I remember that I could fall asleep in all my classes yet somehow ace all my tests. It could be that high school was easier, that I was smarter, or that I’m exaggerating about my academic prowess. Anyways, I find myself truly having to exert effort to merely survive which brings the veil covering reality slightly more transparent. It merely surprises me that in a few years we’ll be off on our own, flying free yet constrained by the obligations of reality.

So, I have pretty much passed on being DK this summer but rather have cultivated a slightly more cultured self, sounding so arrogant as I announce it. Somebody once said that I seemed the same except that I write in complete sentences and bigger words so I started wondering if that was actually true; it was so surgically concise. In a sense, I suppose it’s true that I have not changed much in humor but rather have changed in that I write more introspectively now. I still enjoy crude jokes, low blows, making fun of stereotypes, and being inappropriate in general. I remember Olivia telling me how surprising that I didn’t come back from college to be some intellectual pansy but rather my same former self. So judging from these contrasting opinions, I’m left with one conclusion: measuring someone’s progress or decay is useless except in a comical context so rather, we should focus on the now.

Though I may seem pissed off, depressive, or swirling in an eyes-glazed nostalgia, I’m actually feeling light-hearted. I’m excited about the hustle/bustle of downtown life, Rice in general, and taking my little lady back to San Antonio, perhaps. It’s through a series of fortunate events that I am dating this unbelievably fantastic girl and even more fortunate that I have superb lunch dates with her. By unbelievably fantastic, I mean how unbelievably quick she hits me with unbelievable energy in inappropriate times and places unexpectedly, among other grand things. It’s strange to think how things would have turned out if I had to lab wench in San Antonio. I most definitely would not have this deep rooting appreciation and *ghasp* attachment that to my amazement, I am not fighting nor repulsed with. She’s grown on me in such a way that I don’t mind spoiling her with massages, repartees, and low blows.

Favourites:
Playful spite.
Red things, freely flowing red things including but not limited to cranberry juice.
Vigor, because sloth is a deadly sin.
Stability and calm through dreaded shaky moments, because everybody needs somebody sometime.
Incomplete sentances. Just because and out of spite.

Antifavourites:
Fantasies and dreams so vividly described dangling just out of reach, because they suck.

So quite a while ago, I realized that I don’t particularly like a noticeable portion of the music on the radio and that it’s increasingly harder to find similar bands that I like. Could I for once be developing my own personal tastes instead of what popular culture feeds to me? I remember the days in middle school when I liked everything that was on the radio. Because I reveled in the shape of an “L” on her forehead when I met Virginia, of losing yourself, in da club, and because of how the stars shine for you. But realistically, I think I’m just getting old. I was thinking about the conundrum one day and I realized how and when our parents must have come along to the same ends. It’s like skating on an iceberg that’s slowly breaking off bit by bit, something out of a dream. And so, I think I’m getting old but as one would put it, I’m getting better. Even my parents say I’m getting grey hairs which I attribute to being a diligent worker or just being plain handsome – in an aged way.

So, for another perhaps fleeting moment of my life despite the petty feeling of losing touch with some aspects of popular culture, I do feel somewhat complacent. It’s the inkling in you mind that suggests that just for a moment, nothing has gone completely awry in your life. It’s like how an egg is perfectly round before it’s cracked by either the chick hatching from within or by something else’s hunger. My life thus far has always told me to cherish familiarity because it is just an illusion that’s more devastating than the one of free time. For instance, it’s like the feeling you get when being snug about figuring something out only to have part of the equation fall apart, or worse when you think the Pistons will do well but they get owned by San Antonio.

But instead of letting minor pessimism get in the way of my smugness, I’ll celebrate although I know it isn’t right, but it feels so good. By the way, it’s going to be four months since I’ve dated June tomorrow, more if you consider earlier. Usually it’s the girl that remembers this but I was blessed with a decent memory. Now I’ll be wrong if I said that she didn’t exceeded any inconsequential expectation I’ve had of her. She’s as unexpected as a curveball in the batting cages but considerably more enjoyable as company.

For now, I’m complacent out of familiarity out of dependability, almost as good as anger out of frustration out of attraction.

… comes something good.”

Whoever can figure out where that quote came from deserves a prize.

Now I know if I were asked, I could provide an entire dossier on why I adore my splendid little darling. For now, I have simply decided to focus on the small but wondrously delectable sandwiches which are her lips. But before you get any ideas, I am not a horribly messy kisser and here’s a punch in the shoulder for Travis, I’m not talking about those lips buddy. There’s something intangibly adorable in the way she conveys the minutiae of expression through her lips that drives me wild. From the simple curve that reveals her pearly whites to the asymmetrical biting of the bottom lip accompanied shortly by a devastating grin, I desire every bit. The best, however, would have to be the playful pouting lips shown when there’s something just barely out of reach. In fact, I think I saw all three today. Ultimately, I know that this most avid description is useless – it’s like imitating Chopin with a harmonica.

And so, work these days has been the same thing over and over. Research is agonizingly slow since I can’t seem to get my PCR reaction to work. It’s frustrating because I follow the darned protocol rigidly close and it still doesn’t work. It’s strange, I find myself each day looking forward to the solace that is lunch and getting out an hour before I’m supposed to. I enjoy putting my girl’s insecurities to rest so she can bask – simply bask.

Oh crap, eureka! I was just thinking about it. I don’t think there’s a problem with the PCR reaction but rather the DNA that I isolated considering the Western Blots that I did didn’t resolve well at all.

Oh, and favourites:
Crackwhores, albeit at 11:20ish now instead of 2 am because they are getting old.
Snow Patrol.
People who don’t like pine nuts (ie. me).

Well, I've come to the conclusion that I'm irreverently attracted to and enjoy songs with great melodies but crappy lyrics. An example would be the one that I'm listening to right now. Sometimes, I let my guard down and let the morose music get the best of me. Among other reasons it has gotten to me today. Last year, it was Death Cab for Cutie and now, it's Counting Crows. Gee, the throes of depressing music, not that all Counting Crows songs are as depressing compared to the emo-ish spectrum that is Death Cab. Oh my, I do believe I'm turning into John minus the video games, fuzzy hair, and strange livejournal icons.

Well work is becoming increasingly tedious. Today, as I was walking back to my car, I thought about whether I could actually follow through with this job for long. I compared my thought processes as an Intern with lifeguarding. I take my job at Baylor much more seriously than I took my job lifeguarding, which is a horrible way of doing things because you're actually responsible for lives directly when you're lifeguarding. Anyways, I guess the novelty is wearing but still this train of thought isn't healthy. I might as well abandon it.

I think every now and then I have this odd fantasy of being jet set, of havingac a yacht and being able to travel randomly to sail in the mediterranean. It's one of my many flaws.

Catch a plane to Barcelona because the city's a drag. The only line I like.

So, I’m in a phase where I can close my eyes and enjoy a perfect pleasant feeling that soothes my tired eyes and rests weary mind. Some would call it the product of sleep depravation but others, mainly lazy cats, tend to call complacency. I wake up at 7 to go to work and get back home almost every day at 7:30 and I don’t seem to mind at all. It’s not that I absolutely love my job; I mean saving the children of the future is an exciting thing to talk about but not all that glorious in reality. My lab is greatly understaffed at the moment actually since I’m actually the only other person besides my supervisor who is working in the lab. I get to do all the fun labor work.

Anyways, my happiness and relative ease is due to none other than a multitude of things. Well, I have a decently paying career advancing job, my health, good music, hopes for the future, and other things I could sing a million praises for. Perhaps most importantly and previously mentioned is my loving lazy cat who is June Hu. Okay, so she’s not really a cat but certain mannerisms remind me of such, mostly the seeming lazy part. Well fine, she’s not really lazy, most of the time anyways. I think of endearing little things that involve random bits of charming perhaps slightly embarrassing details about our past and the serious things that we’ve been through not to mention I’ve found somebody who also has an innate fondness for libraries. Well, maybe I’m in over my head but I still find her ravishing, frustrating (less so than before), and somewhat mysterious - I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So I got off of work early today using my sniffling nose and sneezing, all of which were products of a night of inadequate sleep, as symptoms of a cold. I was done with all my work anyways so I left. I received a phone call from her, something about a rain check on our evening plans but it didn’t bother me too much. I knew of her situation and decided not to push it. So we met up and walked down to the light rail station talking about everything, and nothing. Her random innately adorable sputtering amused even a biking med student and put a smile across yet another face. I made a mental note of her intoxicating scent and incandescent eyes as she sat in my lap as we waited for the train. She gave me this whimsical look, remarking about how she wasn’t the least bit small when I remarked about "clutching the small figure...". But she is and she knows it, playing prim and humble. So the train came and I cursed it for being inordinately on time. We sat in and passed the time by conversing, enjoying each other’s similar yet diverging senses of humor. I basked in perfect comfort as I slipped my arm around her and she rested her head on the part of my chest where shoulders, breast, and neck adjoin. For the moment, I felt oblivious of anything surrounding us except for the pending destination which threatened to pinch me out of this most ostensibly real dream. Inevitably, our destination came and it was time to part ways. So she slipped her arms around my neck, slightly on the tips of her toes as I’m slightly taller than she. Our foreheads touched for a few seconds as I remarked about how incredibly bright eyed she was. With my arms in a snug lock against the small of her back, I pulled her close and smothered her with a barrage of kisses. In parting, being myself, I could not help but look back.

Anyways, writing is not my forte but for the moment it’s okay to throw the caution to the wind. And now, I’m happy basking in my simple little bubble, perhaps weary of anything that might disturb it, but nonetheless perfectly serene.

So I’m sitting here in a comfortable fake leather office chair behind a red tinted cherry wood desk under a comfortable yellow tinted desk light with the intention to write and nothing/everything comes to mind. It's a deluge of a strange garble of memories, events, and hopes for the future.

During my sophomore year, I'd get rides back to school every day from John Cletus Hakert whom I haven't seen in a while. What a character. He was athletic and eccentric, and was unyieldingly loyal behind his mask of dark sarcasm. I miss the likes of that kid and it pains me that he doesn't have a Facebook. Those were the days when my second breakfast always consisted of ham and HEB bread sandwiches with two hard broiled eggs that inevitably stunk up the foyer. Those were the seemingly carefree days when we'd revel at Derek Forrester's seemingly innocuous ability to lick his own nipple, the days of lazily making fun of the weak tennis players although they had better tans than we did. Cletus Hakert, I miss that kid.

So one day in that rickety old truck of his, he played some Counting Crows songs one of which stuck in my head - American Girls. Well it didn't mean much to me back then because Travis playfully inserted "Asian girls" into the song. Though the generalization of "American" can be widely interpreted, the song reminds me of my current amorous love affair and I wouldn't have it any other way. In a sense, this is the roguish Rhett Butler (yes, I flatter myself) in myself admitting it's existence but hopefully the whole thing won't degenerate into high-tension dramatics.

I remember my more nascent days of doing slightly illegal things Brian, my partner in crime. I remember driving without a license, after which he squirted himself in the eyes with a perfume bottle trying to flirt with Yang. I even remember random times the gang lovingly toilet papered a number of houses, including Karmelo's - who still doesn't know it was us.

Perhaps the reason such reminiscing isn't because I'm not having great times now, which believe me I am, but because of the seeming lack of freedom I have while living with my disciplinarian-like mother. I miss having being so free spirited, unhindered, being with my dad who was alright with wherever I went as long as I woke up for breakfast the next day. Well, I'm also not the least bit unhappy. Perhaps I'm growing, maturing? Getting older or getting better? I'm feeling old at 19 but itching for what the rest life has to offer.

Well, there's a week in old San Antonio before I settle again in Sugarland, yearning for the days of pasta at noon, the guest bed, and coldplaying to a loving lazy cat.

And so, after much harried searching, I've finally found a job at the Baylor College of Medicine's Children's Nutrition Research Center. Well, I'm sorry to say that there are no children with which to work with at the CNRC, mostly rats of which we pretend to be pretentious little toddlers. They are fed voraciously. Since the job, I've grown to hate the Houston road system more and more. It's such a huge sprawling piece of shit, honestly. My job pays better than the same job would in San Antonio but everything is more expensive here so it doesn't amount to anything. Parking is incredibly expensive, going up to 10 dollars a day and the detours due to construction are mindbogglingly retarded. I thought I could find highway 59 by following the ingenious signs, but was wrong. Also, he genuis who was responsible for erecting temporary road signs decided to put a few behind other signs and trees... great. Well, working at BCM is actually pretty cool. I got a neat little badge, a prox card, and free parking at the building that I work at. In addition, I look pretty fobby in a labcoat.

And so, I'll be spending this weekend in San Antonio with the parents and then comming back Sunday night, which is the same night my little communist gets back from China. I hope nothing's changed much. I don't know what I would do if June somehow forgot english, dropped out of school, and renounced capitalism.

Will type more later.

I have this inevitable feeling of growing old. I'll talk about it later.

You don't have to be on your own.

So I lied, and will continue to lie. Contrary to what I say, I'm not actually running right now. Today, the weight of things took its toll on me. I'll be honest; I have many problems which I don't care to enumerate. It’s the same stressed feeling I've felt many times in my youth, where as now I am simply an old boy. It felt the same when I got my grades back at Hobby Middle School, when I was sent to the director's office of PREP as a sixth grader, when I’d lie to my parents. It's the slow pain that eats at your mind, the agony that you might get caught, the uneasy feeling when something hangs by a thread, or the feeling of uncertainty.

Realizing I had a dearth of new music, I decided to play some old favorites like Coldplay and such. In it all, I still find comfort in music and thus, Coldplay – A Message:

And I'm not gonna stand and wait
Not gonna leave it until its much too late
On a platform I'm gonna stand and say
That I'm nothing on my own
And I love you, please come home

My song is love, is love unknown
And I've got to get that message home

And so, a feeling of déjà vu has set in. June is ditching me for an amazing foray into newly modernized and snobby China while I’ll probably be mulling about in San Antonio helping my dad run errands and manage his houses. Two months ago, I would have deemed any long distance relationship with June impossible. But now, I feel the opposite. I find some degree of comfort in her quirks, sarcasm, and seeming unpredictability. Seeing her in the morning does wonders for the rest of the day as she’s incredibly bright eyed.

This time, I’ll dare to be optimistic.

And so, to mitigate a lie, I am off to run.

Sometimes, I’d like to daydream about the future. It’s actually frightening in how little I can see. After all, I don’t even know whether I’m going to be in Houston or San Antonio for the rest of the summer. Everything seems so uncertain, even transient. So thus, I’ve set an accord for myself to stabilized myself somehow.

The summer has officially begun and I’m dreading potentially lazy summer days I once fantasized so endearingly about. For the first time, I’ve realized that I’m living in an alien city that is Houston. I’m growing increasingly homesick for the soothing dry air of San Antonio only to be awakened from my daydream by the locale of horrible traffic, crappy drivers, and soggy humidity. I suppose I don’t notice these things when I’m at Rice everyday because everything is so nicely air-conditioned, the gym is only a run away, and everybody is so close. But here in my mom’s purposely poorly circulated home, I am struggling. I’m beginning to feel like a prisoner since my main means of transportation hinges on whether my mother needs her car for business or not. I need to find a job here in Houston so I can drive my car up from SA.

Well on the flipside, not everything is lifeless, painful, and excruciating. Last week, I took June to eat lunch with her sister who is still a rookie in elementary school, but nonetheless incredibly bright. I began to ask her random chemistry questions like “What’s the first element?” and “What’s the one after that?”. She actually knew a handful of them but didn’t even know what the heaviest naturally occurring element was. Her guise of intelligence couldn’t last for long as I saw right through it.

And so, in accordance to my resolution, I’m off.

So it was on some day of finals, because all of the days of finals are the same: weary, slurred, monotonous. Roy and I had this grand idea of going to the gym and playing some basketball. I had the slight satisfaction of being in somewhat decent shape against the two skimpy guys from Lovett that nevertheless beat us. It was the first time I’ve played basketball in what seemed to be, and probably was, years. The fresh feeling of competitive exertion broke the singular grind of lifting weights and running on the treadmill. I felt alive but in a strange way sentimental. I remembered my old childhood memories of playing basketball with my dad. We would go at it for hours and he would always let me win (I was a crybaby). We had an old metal prop-up hoop that is still with us today albeit sad from disuse. My dad and I played basketball together more in the old Kimes Park house than the Ashton Audrey house, signs of us slowly growing apart. All this random nostalgia culminated when Roy and I sat on the curb waiting for the shuttle. I saw and always will see Roy not as anime Roy, stumpy Roy, fuzzy Roy, just simply Roy. To me, he’s one of those rare childhood friends that haven’t grown to grind away at your nerves. We jested about where we saw ourselves as old men, that maybe fourty years from now, we might still be sitting there, sitting on the weathered curb that is “bus stop”. For a second I envisioned that everything around us, no doubt, would be changed but we would hopefully still be ourselves- old boys.

Packing is such sweet sorrow. I’m no longer a freshman. I don’t feel as glorious as others may claim themselves to be. My mother came today to pick me up from school. I should have asked for more boxes as we ended up making countless trips hauling random plastic and papered bags of nothing. Saying goodbye to everyone’s a weird feeling. My fingers are growing weary. My suitcase is packed, phone/mp3 player charging, mind is set.

Let’s go to Florida.

And so, finals week is about to start and I am still horribly afflicted by the disease that is procrastination. I find it hard to write because I’ll write a few sentences, erase them and form new thoughts. It’s for this reason that I believe I’m crazy.

Well, life is currently peachy sans the fact that my roommate is irked at me for hogging the room so much. Someone once said that there’s always a silver lining in the clouds. However, there’s always a cloud to a silver lining as well. I’m glad for unsaid reasons that he’s in New Orleans for the weekend. It seems that time is the most precious commodity people have. There’s only a week or so of finals after which Florida begins, after which is all unplanned. I know from experience that you don’t cherish or ache for something until it’s gone and I have my qualms. For now, I’m happy basking in my little bubble.

I feel like a kid again for some reason. Like a child playing in the cold crisp sunny air. Those are the dreams of my childhood that I remember, the bright aura of childhood. We’re watching some idealized hospital show on TV and I’m wondering whether if this is actually what being a doctor is like. They seem to have plenty of time to flirt and deal with life’s seemingly unimportant things. Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of, that as I grow up and mature I’ll lose sight of the ostensibly mundane things in life for I relish in them right now.

Well, school is about to ramp up again.

Bittersweet I could taste in my mouth
Silver line in the cloud.

I'm shocked at how little knowledge of Texas history I possess. So Sid had this party entitled “Seven Flags Over Sid”. What’s bad was that I had no idea what the original “Six Flags Over Texas” meant. The tower party was not as good as I thought it would be and resulted in a rather mild drama which thankfully did not progress into something worse. I'm constantly discovering things about myself as well as other people, which results in interesting things whether good or bad.

Now Bacchanalia was entirely off the wall. Peter and I opened up my room for the revelries. Although I did most of the furniture moving and bartending, it was fun nonetheless. The room tinted itself green and red while the stereo finally found a use for itself. It’s surprising the amount of people you meet while bartending as there were these crazy people from other universities goading everybody into even more good-hearted debauchery. There were, however, four or so fights that broke out at random times, one involving a good friend named Arif. Omar gave a most amusing account of the fight which involved Arif open handedly slapping and choking some poor kid. The public party was ingeniously decorated by Megan/Betsy/Phil, my favorite being Caesar’s throne. As always, June was amazing and still continues to surprise me. She made this incredible looking dress somehow and pulled off an amazing presentation. So after few hours of serving, I became bored but was then fortunately distracted by June for the rest of the night. Although the band at the public party didn’t play dancing music, it was great music nonetheless and included the likes of Maroon 5 and others. It seems that everybody I knew had an absolutely great time. A buddy, who I will leave unnamed, woke me up with his rowdy speech. I couldn’t sleep because he was constantly making out with June’s roommate, of which the sound was quite disturbing. It seems like everybody had such an amazing time and I tend to agree. My roommate, being the Latin seducer that he is, got pretty rowdy as well. So in party-proofing our room, we ghetto-bunked our beds by turning one bed over and aligning the pegs on another bed. So apparently, somebody passed out on the top bunk and walked away before the morning came. Poor room, it’s sad because its floor is so dirty. I’m hoping the steam cleaners come soon.

So, in short, I had an excellent weekend. I’m glad no one stepped on my toga, as I discovered that part of it got safety pinned to my undies.

Phew, now for a week of academic sodomy.

So spring recess passed and I have little to show for it. I spent the entire break at Rice just relaxing and meandering about, not doing too much work. I lost to sloth and this fun-filled week is the result. What's worse is that some big campus parties are this weekend, making it harder to get work done. Maybe I'll be selective and only go to one, which would have to be Bacchanalia.

Well, I suppose it's been a bit since I've last posted but I have many reasons. First, a bunch of crazy random things happened which caused me a bit of distress. I'll continue to be my unspecific self and not describe it in further detail. Mostly, things are better now and we'll see where I go. Secondly, there is no secondly.

On a side note, I find the Ataris to a perfect summer mix of music albeit most the songs sound the same. It reminds me of the trip I took to Brownsville the summer of junior year with Brian. Those were such carefree days, days of summer school and Junior team. I miss old-man Coach Swanson and his random assorted proverbs including but not limited to "Sometimes you just have to put your balls on the anvil and hammer." and "Testicular fortitude." I admire him in his intense and anti-bullshit attitude. Great guy.

Well, I have some vague idea as to why I'm dreaming about summer days and nights. I caught myself having random fantasies of the perpetual orange sun of summer, laying in hammocks, whipping around in and on the water, and general complacency. I'm looking up; Florida is almost here.

I'm looking up.

So today, I spent hours in ecology lab amongst the trees along buffalo bayou cataloging and measuring relative elevations. The experience left me drained as the humidity and sheer dullness of the lab sapped my strength. On the other hand, Dr. Sullender is a hard-ass and a very insightful professor. I suppose you grow up with certain habits and conceptions as a farm boy such as he. I suppose the overall experience wasn’t too bad.

I think I’ve realized another one of my major faults. Well, I don’t tell anybody anything about my personal life and it’s often a cause of shock. For instance, a few days ago, I talked to Alex for the first time in weeks. She was somewhat surprised what has changed in my life since we last talked. I’m horrible at networking and staying in touch! The more I think about it the further I sink into anti-social trains of thought. I think I’ve kept too many people misinformed concerning too many things but I wonder when it’s right to just announce something or whether it would be announced at all. Possibilities concerning misinformation frighten the hell out of me. What if I was to move to Houston and my friends randomly show up to my house in San Antonio only to find some strange tenant?

Well, I don’t know where I’m going with this but I’ve given up on my chemistry/physics homework and had a few minutes of free time left before I drifted away to sleep. As of now, I question my morals and motives. I’m feeling absolutely contemplative and a bit restless.