heart my cavies

Why is Dora the Explorer a Pillow Pet?

2012-01-27T05:15:00.000-08:00

Dora is a pillow pet right alongside monkeys, bears, dogs, etc. There's a message here somewhere...

I'm still alive

2011-12-04T21:32:00.000-08:00

I am here.

I have been skimming by my undergraduate life, trying to graduate on time and all of that...
Starting online projects, blogs, and random things...
Not really ready to grow up or do anything useful yet...

Maybe I'll post a real update during Christmas break. Maybe I'll even post pictures. Maybe.

today was fun

2011-07-27T17:53:00.001-07:00

you know, if you don't consider the four hours of testing

I had a dream

2011-06-22T09:13:00.000-07:00

Last night I dreamt that I was shooting zombies (maybe it had started out as a video game) but they suddenly stopped trying to rip me open. Eventually I realized that I myself had become some sort of zombie ghost. But I eat regular human food, so I joined a freeloading ghost clan. We were invisible to most humans, so we snuck into this house where my zombie ghost clan had a friend. He was setting up dinner for his uncle but came to us for a second to talk and his uncle freaked out and complained about him not making the table so he could not eat his pizza. The nephew exploded (not literally) and hacked at the uncle and the other random guy sitting at the table until they both died. I think I was disturbed by this scene - albeit I am a zombie - because I quickly left this dream.

Then I dreamt of random dreams that are really not as important -

Oh, no! There was a dream in which I was in a video game with friends and had to battle monsters. I could switch into the bodies with my teammate and pressing the next button - except I didn't have a controller. Maybe this WAS the zombie clan. I am not sure but I think we won because I threw someone down the stairs. I also am not sure of the order my story - or if there is any order at all. Maybe I lived out all my dreams simultaneously. Why not?

Some people have very sensible dreams. Maybe mine are semi- but my retelling butchers it because my memory is so bad that I literally forget parts of the dream every second. I now only remember my memory and retelling of the dream and not the actual dream at all.

Also: my neck is in so much pain so maybe someone threw me down the stairs.

things i eat

2011-03-21T12:16:00.000-07:00

things i plan to do this summer

2011-03-11T18:56:00.000-08:00

1. Complete my community service project: educate kids, etc.
2. Start my food blog: pictures of food I eat and places I go to eat.
3. Get some sort of job related to my future career.

less realistic goals:
1. Lose weight and become athletic.
2. Read and learn a lot; become a genius.

deb, this summer

2011-02-28T20:40:00.000-08:00

I have to do a service project for this scholarship thing. Let's do good things together!
And I'm really looking forward to hanging out with you.

I don't think I like how much I've changed since college. It isn't that I had much substance to lose in the first place, but I don't think I've progressed. Just the opposite actually. Not in all areas - but nearly three years spent without anything worth mentioning. Am I living or just slowly deteriorating? If I have to question it... I should probably get up and make some changes. Rock ~~the~~ my world a little.

update summary

2011-02-07T14:19:00.000-08:00

I went home for Chinese New Years and went to a temple with my mom. =)
The people were very nice and the food was delicious. Best vegetarian food in the world. I actually went to two different temples on Sunday. One was new and had very few people attending and helping out. The other one was very popular and had 821038203 million people helping. I really wish people would consider helping out at the temple that needs the help instead of the popular one where they can meet lots of friends and get a lot of attention. I feel sorry for the monk at that cold, unpopular temple. I think I want to help.

Fernando Torres moved from Liverpool to rival team Chelsea and I am mad. =(
Why didn't you go back to Spain, Nando? Anywhere else would be fine. Why would you leave us to join the rival club? On the bright side, Chelsea paid a lot of money for him. Torres is like the most expensive player in England now.

Nando lost his first game against Liverpool. =)
Well deserved.

Steelers lost to Packers. =)

I have a 10 page lab report to write tonight. =(

I have not been on Skype. =(
I have no excuses. I'm sorry.

I regained all the weight I loss over the Summer. =(
Salads. Eat salads.

First Post of 2011

2011-01-07T16:14:00.000-08:00

I have been slacking. I miss you, Deb. I don't feel like leaving the house to meet anyone but you. I wish you were here so we could get coffee and chocolate and talk and pretend we are making a difference and changing the world. I like to live in that little bubble downtown. I am so comfortable hanging out with you. Doing other things is just troublesome. It's too cold to go anywhere. Sometimes I think I'm lonely - but I realize I don't like hanging out with people at all.

I hate resolutions because I never fulfill them. I want to write more, get better grades and lose weight. I say that every year but every year I repeat myself. What is the point? This year, I set no goals for myself. I want nothing. Just let me live my life the way I have always lived. Don't take anything I have away. That is all.

Debbie, come back early. Finish school quickly and hurry back. Bring my happy thing.

i don't know what to write

2010-12-21T20:07:00.000-08:00

I don't think I am a very honest person. I never tell myself the truth.

I looked through an old box in my room today and found some things I've forgotten, including some photos and a Tamagotchi. I don't know what to do with these things. I don't know if they're worth anything to me anymore.

@Debbie: Julia, Nia, Brit and I hung out yesterday. Wish you could have been there! We ate at Little Pete's, went to that old German Christmas hut/area, watched the light show at Macy's and went to Lush for hand treatments. Miss you. It isn't the same without you.

Xabi Alonso for DT Magazine

2010-11-04T22:47:00.000-07:00

These images hit the internet last week but I've been so preoccupied with my silly pathetic life that I've only noticed them now! Someone needs to get her priorities straightened out. I am unable to express my joy through words, so I will show you by bringing joy to your life:

He'd be perfect if he could be mine. But being unattainable is not really a flaw, is it?

I head home tomorrow evening. Can't wait to eat rice and hang out with the family! Exams, papers, etc? I need not worry about them since they'll be here waiting for me when I get back. YUMMY FOOD, here I come!

I am always waiting (and I am sick of it)

2010-10-26T16:29:00.000-07:00

I am procrastinating again. I am not giving my best. I don't have the willpower. I just want to fast forward to the future, but I'm afraid to look.

my joy.

I don't feel okay today

2010-10-10T21:56:00.000-07:00

I just don't.

It's not too bad, but it hurts. I should stop thinking about it and let myself forget the hurt rather than regret my decision. Be decisive for once. Be strong. Be someone.

I have so many things to do, yet I keep looking for little things to keep myself busy. I think this is just a mixture of stress, sadness, nostalgia and laziness. On the bright side, I'll have eliminated at least one or two of those things in about two weeks.

a little bit of happiness reblogged

Xabi Alonso Twitter

2010-08-28T18:54:00.000-07:00

Xabi finally made a twitter account! Just weeks ago I was spamming Real Madrid to make Xabi a twitter/facebook. And here it finally is: http://twitter.com/XabiAlonso. I doubt he will tweet much (because he is too classy for twitter), but it is nice to know that at some point in my life I may have the fortune of having Xabi respond to my fifteenbillionspamtweetsfrommymadeforxabitwitter.

School? Oh, it is awful. I have labs everyday. I say I will spend at least 30 hours a week in some sort of lab. That is in addition to regular Physics, P-chem, BMB and English classes. :( But it is okay because Xabi has a twitter.

The Truth About Iker Casillas

2010-08-21T01:26:00.000-07:00

For some time now, I've wondered what it is about Iker Casillas that leaves me breathless. Of course St. Iker has a perfectly sculpted face, killer jawline and a heart-melting (mind-blowing) smile, but surely there must be something more to the captain of the Spanish National Team and Real Madrid CF; to this loving boyfriend and best goalkeeper in the world. There must be more to it because sometimes when I gaze upon his face, I swear I can almost feel the flutter of my heart, the heart that belongs only to the perfection that is my Xabi Alonso.

Today, it finally struck me. Iker has the most amazing eyebrows in the world: so dark, so manly, so defined. Look how they perfectly frame his perfect face. Eyebrow fetish?

Dear Deb:

2010-08-20T16:44:00.000-07:00

Let's write football slash. I have always been obsessed with football slash, yet I've never thought of actually writing slash. How could you have allowed me to spend my summer (my life) without slash? No matter how bad our writing may turn out, it will still be slashy! We should attempt it. When I am not wasting my time studying the thermodynamics of chemistry, I will devote my attention to the thermodynamics and chemistry of Xabi and Stevie G.

Anyway, to update you on my life: I've been hounding LJ like a madman, reading fanfics after fanfics. I think I've come to fully appreciate it for the greatness that it is. And I want more. There aren't enough S/X slash fics for me. I am contemplating finding fics about other people and using Word's "find and replace" option to change the characters to Xabi and Stevie. Is that wrong? It'll only be for my pleasure. I just can't bare reading about other people. Unless it's Nando. I think he makes such a cute, slashy and whorish character. I don't want real people anymore. I don't care for reality.

I have fallen back into that little world inside my head. I wish I had found it sooner this summer. I don't want to go back to college. I want to stay with my Xabi and Stevie and Nando. I don't want to walk alone!

peter pan, are you there? we can be friends now

2010-08-11T16:02:00.000-07:00

I've been talking to people in my sleep. I am not sure with whom I have been having these conversations, but I've had them. I didn't even know I had been dreaming until now. Heck, I don't know if I ever was dreaming. I just feel like I've been talking to someone about various topics I can barely remember. I've had no one to talk to, so it mustn't be real. Though maybe I never even had those dreams. I often make up scenarios and conversations in my mind, so maybe it's all in my head. Not even in an alternate dreamland. Just my mind. I may need someone to talk to, but I don't have anything to say. There is nothing to contribute, to connect and nothing to inform. How do you show someone something that isn't there? I want to wake up.

that time of the year again

2010-08-10T01:25:00.000-07:00

I have to return to school in less than two weeks and I'm getting that nervous, anxious feeling in my stomach again. You know, that feeling that makes me feel like a total failure. Yea, that one. I'll get over it once I get to SC.

By time anger is calmed, happiness dwindled and sadness cured. But guilt never lifts. Not until it's over. I say it's the worst thing to feel. So cheer up, sad one. Yes, you.

For Deb, if Fernando Torres still matters to you

2010-08-06T00:22:00.000-07:00

There is no Xabi in this interview, but your Nando answers most of the questions. =)

2. Movies or TV series?
Torres: I’ve stolen all the series I have from Xabi Alonso, who has an assortment. I’ve had time to watch so many that I’ve finished with Lost and Prison Break, and I’ve started Californication, Boston Legal, and The O.C. My favorite ones are those two that I finished, but I didn’t like their endings

9. And your worst characteristic that you would like to change?
Torres: I have to learn to listen and I’m very absentminded. I forget a lot of things, and I’m horrible at remembering faces and names. When I meet people, I don’t even remember later on that I met them. And then I don’t greet them later on simply because I forgot, not for anything else. [Interviewer: and your shyness?] That’s not a bad characteristic, it’s good in some ways, but in other ways I see it more as a good part of my personality.

10. A vice that you confess to.
Torres: I love all types of candy.

I thought this was cute:

19. A symbol of Spain.
Villa: Iker Casillas. =)

Source: http://community.livejournal.com/spain_de_futbol/527139.html

Real in LA

2010-08-04T17:25:00.000-07:00

I lied. They are all in LA right now practicing in the fields of UCLA. I so want to be there. I want to touch Xabi, Iker and all of Real. :(

I know my blogging has been boring as of late but I really have not been doing anything exciting or thinking much for that matter. I will resume thinking and living soon. For now, I live vicariously through my lovely hot ones.

Madrid in the US

2010-08-02T21:14:00.000-07:00

The Real Madrid team is in Los Angeles right now. They are playing a game Saturday: http://www.lagalaxy.com/realmadridtickets

I was in LA just last month! Oh why must fate separate us like this? Cristiano Ronaldo is there and all over the news with his face. I wish he weren't so full of himself. He is so good looking that I can't stand hating him, but boy is his head big. I guess I never forgave him for being mean to Xabi Alonso that one time. No one messes with my man.

I try to tell myself not to worry that millions of fan girls get to meet Real while I rot here on the east coast. Xabi Alonso and Iker Casillas are not there. Why would it matter, right? They probably don't need the big guys to pown LA Galaxy. (Where's the patriotism, Kat?) Kaka wasn't even supposed to be there, but I read on twitter that he is there now. And no, Kaka has not responded to me yet. I will give him another night before I blast more tweets his way.

Twitter

2010-08-01T21:58:00.000-07:00

I don't tweet because I can't keep up with it - and I dislike the immediateness of the updates. Everything seems so invasive and interactive. *hides*

But yesterday I made a Twitter for the sole purpose of talking to famous people. Is that silly? Yes, but I have seen (verified) Ricardo Kaka respond to random fan girls. He even told one girl that he would visit her in Japan one day! I am going to make him respond to me. I am going to make him talk to me and love me forever. I just asked him whether he was coming to the US for the Brazil friendly on August 10th. I am now constantly checking my Twitter (that contains one tweet) to see if he has responded.

I can't find a verified Iker Casillas, Xabi Alonso, Steven Gerrard or any of the other good stuff. Maybe they don't exist on Twitter. The search goes on.

Soccer Envy

2010-07-31T10:24:00.000-07:00

Eva Longoria with Iker Casillas and his girlfriend (and other people)

Eva Longoria is so lucky. She gets to spend time with Casillas. I want to lure him to my house to hang out with him and take pictures of him too.

Did I mention that Steven Gerrard is not moving to Real Madrid? Well, at least Kaka is not leaving Madrid. I don't know what I want for Xabi Alonso. I hope he never leaves Real Madrid except for Liverpool to be with Gerrard. That that would be a downgrade for his career but oh the upgrade for his romantic life.

dear netherlands

2010-07-30T19:37:00.000-07:00

This Summer and TV Series

2010-07-25T22:37:00.000-07:00

I have watched a lot of TV this Summer. Even though all the good shows come out during the Fall, I managed to find some shows I have not seen for the Summer. Once fall comes, I go back to watching Family Guy, How I Met Your Mother, Community, Modern Family, House, etc.

The Office. To start off, I spent my first two weeks of Summer watching all the seasons of The Office. I love it. Why have I not realized sooner that it is an amazing show? And I am usually not a huge fan of comedy. This is my kind of humor. Plus, Jim and Pam are so cute together. I never thought I would like Dwite, but I have grown to love him.

Lost. I expected too much and was disappointed. I thought everything was weaved together skillfully from the beginning. I thought that everything had a meaning and purpose. The truth is, they just try to impress and wow us. Some things are just there for the sake of being there. People interpret what needs not be interpreted. It is a good show, but I expected too much from it. I don't like the characters very much.

Pretty Little Liars. Yes, I watch this. And I like it a lot. I have never read the books, but I spoiled myself a little by skimming Wikipedia. I know I am a bad person but it just feels so right. And I feel so knowledgeable now. The girls are so cute and its fun to watch. Waiting for one episode a week is awful though.

Greek. I didn't finish this one. I just couldn't deal with all the drama. It made me nervous and unhappy. Will they ever be happy? I did enjoy this show though. It's a lot of sorority, fraternity drama exaggeration etc. I feel like I am living in Greek life.

Castle. I didn't like it that much at first because it is kind of ordinary. A writer following a cop around? It was just murder mystery after mystery without any real moving plot. The characters grew on me though. I just finished the second season yesterday.

I thought that The Colony was a real show. I got really excited when I saw the ads. I thought it was a show based on people rebuilding a post-apocalyptic world and creating their own society. I found a link for the pilot and realized it was a reality show. I don't need fake drama with poorly written scripts and lots of whining! Any work of fiction is truer than a reality TV show.

consequences will never be the same

2010-07-23T20:51:00.000-07:00

1. "Jessi Slaughter" is an eleven-year-old vlogger who attracted a lot of haters. She somehow caught the attention of 4Chan.org members. People got together to publish her personal information online and played pranks on her. She got unordered pizzas, threats, etc. Cyber bullying makes me really angry sometimes. But then I think, China and North Korea don't have that problem, do they? Personal responsibility is a price to pay.

2. It really irks me when someone forces me to accept that a story is "100% accurate" when it is a second or third-hand account. What I see for myself is doubtful enough. Why should I believe that any story is 100% accurate without any mistake or misrepresentation? Even the way a story is told changes everything. Just because you are not lying does not mean you are telling the truth.

Chocolate Cheerios

2010-07-19T22:05:00.000-07:00

Chocolate cheerios taste similar to cocoa puffs but are a lot healthier for you. They're about 100 calories for 3/4 a cup. I like them a lot. I think I will buy a box for college. I ate a lot today and am not proud of it. I have not done anything lately and it makes me sad. Every Summer I tell myself that I will do something extraordinary but I just sit and rot with the flies. I am not getting any younger. I get less successful and closer to death every minute. It just makes me want more chocolatey things.

I am always dying: every minute of my life. I guess that is the joy of life.

United States vs Brazil

2010-07-16T00:35:00.000-07:00

http://www.ussoccer.com/Schedule-Tickets/2010/100810-US-Men-vs-Brazil.aspx

Deb, Please tell me you will be back by August 10th. This is our chance to meet Kaka. He speaks English. We can meet and talk and stalk. This international friendly will be held somewhere in Jersey. We can ask Lee to come along (and take us). I don't know, but I am excited. I have been frantically searching for international friendlies taking place in the States. I have not found one for Spain yet but I will buy tickets for sure if they ever come over.

.edit// It is actually two hours away from me. :( But maybe I can find out where Kaka will be staying and linger outside his room. The Spanish soccer team is coming to Mexico on August 11th. Maybe we could scoot over there to meet them? That would be ideal.

The problem here is that Brazil may not play Kaka. Spain may not play any of its main players at all. Oh sadness. Why can't we just go to Madrid?

Steven Gerrard: Liverpool to Real Madrid?

2010-07-12T15:54:00.000-07:00

I am not sure that this article taken from goal.com is totally legitimate, but it seems that Steven Gerrard is not going anywhere anytime soon. I am sad that at thirty years old, his value has lowered so much. Real Madrid wanted to pay only 20 million for him. They at least paid 30 for Alonso - and Gerrard is probably a better player. A few years ago, anyone would have easily paid 50-70 mil for Gerrard.

There is also a rumor that Xabi Alonso may move back to Liverpool. I hate these transfer rumors sometimes. Whatever happens, I hope they get to stay together. Even if that means Xabi will leave Real Madrid, I will be comfortable with Steven and Xabi wearing red together again.

Steven Gerrard looks set to remain at Anfield after Real Madrid deemed Liverpool's asking price too high.

Ernesto Bronzetti, a transfer consultant for the La Liga giants, has revealed that plans to swoop for the inspirational Reds' captain have been shelved due to president Florentino Perez's refusal to pay the £58million valuation due the player's age.

Bronzetti claims that the price tag for Gerrard, who turned 30 in May, does not represent good business sense to Los Blancos whilst dismissing reports that the club planned to offload Brazilian midfielder Kaka after a poor first season at the Bernabeu Stadium.

"Kaka will stay at Real, but the president does not agree with Gerrard because he is 30 and Perez doesn't want to know.

"Plus Liverpool asked for €70million."

Iker, why are you naked?

2010-07-12T10:39:00.000-07:00

Celebrating their World Cup win in the locker room. Iker Casillas is naked. :)

Here is Casillas showing off his body again. Oh, we love you.

Fernando Torres pulls out his camera to snap some shots for his facebook.

I really hope they wipe that trophy down. I saw every person on the Italian team kiss it before and now every member of the Spanish team. I am pretty sure the Brazilians have smothered it with their salivas.

This is so cute I just had to post it. Casillas' girlfriend had previously been criticized for distracting him by being a reporter on the field. They are so happy now. :) I am so jealous of her but this really makes me smile.

SPAIN: FIFA WORLD CHAMPION 2010

2010-07-11T14:28:00.000-07:00

I love Spain! The game was horribly painful to watch. Fourteen yellow cards were handed out. The Dutch fouled more than played. Spain could not score. Villa didn't do well and was replaced by Torres who did nothing much. Randomly, I think, Iniesta scored. :) I am glad Spain won. I got to see Casillas cry tears of joy and it was the most adorable thing in the world.

Spain is really an underachieving team this season. They seem to do what they can to get by and nothing more. They score against bad and good teams alike. Maybe they just have a good defense and a not very good attacking strategy. Oh Villa, you better get back in your game before I drop you.

I hope Xabi Alonso is okay. De Jong fly-kicked him in the game so hard it looked like he had broken several ribs. I can't believe Zidane got a red card for head-butting but De Jong only got a yellow card for fly-kicking.

Did I mention that I am sick? As soon as I got on the plane back to Philly, I knew something was up. :( My throat hurts so much despite that fact that I have tried to drink a lot of water. Possibly 8 bottles today.

Las Vegas

2010-07-09T00:19:00.000-07:00

They did not ID me. I played and lost. I don't want to talk about it anymore. What happens in Vegas, right?

My uncle got us amazing suites. I think he must have played/won/lost a lot of money at the Wynn casino because we got a lot of special treatments there.

OH AND CONGRATULATIONS SPAIN! I cut your winning picture out of the New York Times today. :) Take those Dutches down!

Disney Land

2010-07-06T01:03:00.000-07:00

I didn't get to meet Donald Duck. I am so disappointed. I wanted to tell Donald that I am his biggest fan. I think he would have been flattered. Goofy was not nice to us. He did not pay attention to us and kept walking away from the children. I dislike him.

I have been in California since Saturday night. How is it here? It is... cool, literally. I was expecting LA to be hotter than Philly, but it does not feel like Summer here. It is July but everyone wears jackets and things. I would love to be able to do that in Philly. I don't think I have seen the sun lately either. I don't know if I made it to California or got stuck in some weird sunless state. I like it. Too bad I am going to Vegas tomorrow. And I can't even gamble.

Equate: Exfoliating Cleansing Towelettes

2010-07-01T08:50:00.000-07:00

Ingredients: Water, Cetearyl Isononanoate, Ceteareth-20, Alcohol, Glyceryl Stearate, Glycerin, Cetyl Palmitate, Ceteareth-12, Propylene Glycol, Chamomilla Recutita (Chamomile Matricaria) Flower Extract, Centaurea Cyanus Flower Extract, Cucumis Sativus (Cucumber) Fruit Extract, Camellia Oleifera (Green Tea) Extract, Tocopheryl (Vitamin E) Acetate, Aloe Barbadensis (Aloe Vera) Leaf Juice, Fragrance, Methylparaben, Propylparaben, Sodium Citrate, Citric Acid, Disodium Edta, 2-Bromo-2-Nitropropane-1, 3-Diol

These ingredients are almost identical to Pond's exfoliating wipes. Although I have never tried Pond's exfoliating wipes, I have used their cold cream without a problem. The Equate towelettes are supposed to be extremely similar to the Pond's one except that it only costs a few dollars. The problem with this? I am extremely allergic to it. I wiped my face with the towelette once before going to bed the other night. I woke up the next morning with hives all over my face and neck. Benadryl and Benadryl cream did not work. I received a shot from my doctor and some more medication and creams. They are helping, but at a very slow pace. As of now, I am still itching from the allergic reaction. This has been the worst allergic experience of my life. I went online and did a little search and found at least 10 other people who had a major allergic reaction to this thing. I do not recommend anyone trying this wipe, although most people seem to be fine with it. Dish out a few extra dollars and get something better. St. Ives apricot scrub is pretty good. As of now, I will avoid Pond's and anything similar to Equate. I can't risk going through this again.

In addition to all the trouble that this towelette has caused me, I would like to add that these wipes are not very moist. That may be a good thing for people who like a little napkin to wipe before bed, but I prefer something damp and cool on my face. I may be bias on this one, but this wipe just felt dry.

I emailed Walmart yesterday to report my problem because Equate is a Walmart manufactured brand. They called me this morning and left a voice mail. When they call back I will have a word with them and see where it leads.

.edit// The Equate people called me back and asked me a ton of questions. They are reporting the incident to the manufacturer. I just want to know which ingredient is causing my problem. They said that the manufacturers may contact me in the future if they decide to recall the product. Most likely though, they will not. I did find out that Equate is manufactured by Nice Pak Products. That does little for me. I will live in constant fear of face products and hives.

.edit//* Equate did call me to ask for the product, so I gave them the lot number. I should be receiving a letter from them soon. I am glad that they are going through the trouble of "investigating," if that is truly what they do with the information. I hope they will provide me with some sort of information on the allergen. A check for all my trouble would be nice too, but we know that won't happen. Maybe I can sue them.

Iker Casillas in Spain Vs. Portugal

2010-06-30T19:59:00.000-07:00

This allergy made me puffy and I don't want to blog or move so I will post this video of Casillas doing the most amazing thing the world cup has ever seen:

Spain National Team: Hot Men

2010-06-29T11:56:00.000-07:00

Spain has some of the hottest players ever. Today I realize that I love Iker Casillas and David Villa. I love the Spanish team:
1- Iker Casillas
3 - Gerard Pique
7 - David Villa
9 - Fernando Torres
14 - Xabi Alonso
19 - Fernando Llorente

My attempt to rank my love:
1. *Xabi Alonso & Steven Gerrard
2. Zinedine Zidane
3. Iker Casillas
4. David Villa
5. Cristiano Ronaldo
6. Ricardo Kaka
7. Fernando Torres
8. Fernando Llorente
9. Gerard Pique

*Xabi and Stevie are first. I can't rank them individually. They have to be together and they have to be number 1. That is the only way I can do it.

I also like David Beckham because he is so hot, but he has become more of a Hollywood star than a soccer player for me so I won't put him here. If I were to rank him, we would probably fall right before or after Kaka.

Beckham and Zidane Slash

2010-06-28T09:12:00.000-07:00

I don't understand why I can't find Beckham and Zidane slash. They are so cute. I like the contrast of Beckham's full head of hair against Zidane's shiny scalp.

Zidane desperately wants to hold Beckham's hand in this one.

This is the moment before Beckham pulls Zidane's head to his face.

Zinedine Zidane

2010-06-27T18:29:00.000-07:00

I know he is retired, but I like Zizou so much that I am dedicating today to him. I didn't care so much for today's teams: Germany, England, Argentina, Mexico. I am glad that England went down with us (except our lost wasn't quite as embarrassing), but I do pity Steven Gerrard. I think it is his first time being captain in the world cup. *sadface* There is always a spot for you in Real Madrid with Xabi.

I am getting really anxious for Spain's game on Tuesday. I hear that Spain is predicted to win, but you never know. Spain has never done well in the world cup. Neither has Portugal, I guess. I wonder how Spain and Portugal are ranked second and third, respectively. I am sorry Cristiano Ronaldo, but Spain must win this one. Brazil, Germany, Argentina and even Uruguay have won enough cups. I am afraid that one of them will win again. Honestly, I think I am fine with any other country winning. Except maybe Ghana. That still stings.

United States 1 - 2 Ghana

2010-06-26T14:24:00.000-07:00

I am so upset that we lost. ): Well, at least there is still one African team in the game. I would root for Ghana a little if they didn't just defeat us.

I am going all out SPAIN now. I love Stevie, but England has to go down with us. The English fans will get way too cocky otherwise.

Gerard Pique, the hairy one, looks really good in this picture.

USA! (and England because Stevie is too cute)

2010-06-26T12:20:00.000-07:00

The US is down one point against Ghana right now. ): I really hope we make a comeback. And even though I have not been rooting for England as of late, I have decided to for tomorrow's game. I have been going back to the heart & the brain to look at pictures of Stevie and Xabi. I miss them. I really want Steven Gerrard to move to Real Madrid now. If it goes through, Real Madrid would be the best (looking) team ever. That is if Zidane gets bored of retirement and comes back to Real Madrid too.

Stevie is such a wonderful father. How can Xabi ever break this up? *sadface*

South Korea, I am sorry. I was rooting for you guys too. ): Good job though.

St. Moriz Tanning Mousse; Silvia Spanks Ronaldo!

2010-06-25T16:59:00.000-07:00

I applied the St. Moriz tanning mousse after my shower this morning. It applied smoothly and consistently. I have not noticed any streaks as of yet. The color is not in any way orange, which I totally adore. It is not as dark as I would like so perhaps I will apply it again tomorrow to build the color on my legs. The downside to this product is the smell. It is not intolerable or noticeably strong, but it has been lingering on my body for the whole day so I cannot stand smelling myself. Self tanners are supposed to smell, I know. It will probably fade after a shower, but so will some of the color. I hope the tan does not go patchy after I shower.

.edit// I have noticed that the color actually intensified after one day. I love the color of this tanner. It is absolutely gorgeous and natural. It has been two days and it has not become patchy and the color is fading quite slowly. I really think this is going to become a staple item for me. Oh, and the smell is totally gone after one shower.

I am glad that Spain won it's group cup today. (: I hope you enjoy the picture from today's Portugal versus Brazil game. They are both on top of their group as expected. All my teams made it to the top 16 this year. What about France? Zidane is not there anymore so I can see why it would suck. He was the main reason I rooted for France last world cup anyway. I love how shallow a sports fan I am.

In honor of the world cup, I will post pictures of soccer players daily:

What the hell is that? You know what I am talking about.

USA!

2010-06-23T20:28:00.000-07:00

It has been eighty years since we've won a group cup! I am so happy we advanced. (: I am also rooting for Spain this year.

Time for an inspirational picture from Real Madrid:

These men are together doing things like this on a daily basis. I would have posted the American team, but this is about as good as it gets.

Cherry Hill Mall Haul

2010-06-23T13:50:00.000-07:00

I picked up a few things from Cherry Hill Mall today.

Express 2 1/2" EMBELLISHED PATCH POCKET SHORTS - $16

Charlotte Russe boyfriend fit jean shorts - $16

Wet seal tank top - $6

wet seal butterfly tank top - $6

Wet seal light Floral Scarf - $3

I love the fit of the Express shorts. They make such excellent clothes. All of the other shorts I own pale in comparison. Express clothes are pretty expensive except when you get them on sale. :)

I absolutely love my new scarf. It has a little boho/vintage kind of vibe. The other clothes were so-so. Wet Seal does not impress me.

i am bursting

2010-06-21T19:35:00.000-07:00

Because I possess absolutely no self control whatsoever, I have given up on the 3-week diet plan. I will try to maintain some sort of regular exercise routine. I will still attempt the "healthy" lifestyle, but calling it a plan is just disgraceful at this point.

my birthday cake

2010-06-20T19:41:00.000-07:00

I ran for twenty minutes and did my DVD. And then I ate a lot of food and my birthday cake. Ice cream cake and cheese cake. I don't want to blog anymore.

vegetable soup

2010-06-19T19:48:00.000-07:00

My mom and I made vegetable soup today. I just wanted some mushrooms and cabbage, but she threw in some carrots and cauliflower. And beets, which I am a little weirded out about. It turns the entire soup red.

I ran for half an hour today but did not do my DVD because my brother's friends are here. ): And now I am super stuffed from the vegetable soup.

fail day

2010-06-18T20:13:00.000-07:00

I ate a lot of food today. This includes bread. I saw the loaf of bread and I did not stop myself. I had a lot of things. I would not mind it that much if I have not been on a fruit and vegetable diet for the last four days. My body is rebelling the sudden splurge.

I ran for half and hour and did my DVD routine diligently. Everything else was a fail.

things sent and things ordered

2010-06-18T14:05:00.000-07:00

After hearing so many good things about this self tanner, I ordered St. Moriz (St. Moritz if they hadn't made that typo) from UK ebay. The only similar product in the US is St. Tropez, which is about three or four times the price of St. Moriz. I am crossing my fingers on this one. I hear it fades after 2 to 5 days, but I am planning to use it along with gradual tanners to give me more color. I will tell you how it goes.

Today I received Kiehl's Cryste Marine Firming Serum from L'oreal. I didn't even know that L'oreal owned Kiehl's until today. It is pretty generous of them to give me a full size product that retails at $50. I think I may be a bit too young to use this firming product, so I may give it to my mom. I am also considering using it on my expression lines. Well, I will update with how it works if I ever get to it.

Slovenia 2 : 2 United States

2010-06-18T13:11:00.000-07:00

The US should have won, but the referee Koman Couilibaly fouled our last goal for no apparent reason. Cheat much? I am in no way expecting the US to make it to the end, but I'd like us to get our fair points. So far, we have two tied games. ): I would usually root for England over Algeria, but today I think I would like them to lose for the sake of our country.

I usually go for the foreign ones (Real Madrid), but America's Michael Bradley is not bad. Not bad at all. Neither is Francisco Torres and the other kids. I guess at young ages, most athletes would look good. Another motivation to root for my home country. I am also hoping Spain will make a comeback.

Banana Leaf's satay tofu

2010-06-17T20:32:00.000-07:00

I did order the satay tofu at Banana Leaf today, so good for me. I even shared some of it. It was delicious, but could have used some hot sauce for flavoring. The problem was that the waiters never came by until the very end. Other than the excess oil, I will say that it is a pretty decent dish.

I only ran for 10 minutes this morning because I am lazy like that. I did my DVD routine. I am determined to do that every single day because it just takes so little time. I have absolutely no reason not to do it. Running takes a little more willpower because it is on a treadmill in the basement.

My new diet is working so well for me. I am always eating so I am never hungry. It is a little costly though because apparently healthy food is just that much more expensive. My blueberries will be gone tomorrow.

huge haul

2010-06-16T08:55:00.000-07:00

First of all, I'd like to talk about all the stuff I got today. Sue ordered me a bunch of makeup things from Cherry Culture. I got two NYX lipsticks in Circe and Jupiter. Circe is amazing but Jupiter is quite disappointing. It is not as pigmented as I expected. The coral lip gloss was a bit too sheer, but I'll see how it goes. I love the Jordana eye primer. It was only about $2 and really helps eyeshadows show up. I would say it is way better than the ELF mineral one. I got an Amuse lip liner that may be a bit too dark for something called natural.

I bought a Guess amor necklace that is a total dupe of the one I saw on Urban Outfitter's website. The necklace has a 16 inch chain so it stays close to the neck, which I like. It seems there are a lot of similar designs out there. I also bought this huge flower statement ring from Joyce Leslie and an adorable nautical tank top with a cute back design. It is my new favorite shirt!

I stuck to the plan pretty well today. I had a lot of fruits and vegetables (if corn counts) and some cashews. I ran slowly for 30 minutes and did my DVD routine. I need to improve on the working out part. I get so lazy. I used to do a lot more but now I can't even bare the thought of doing lunges and squats. And I don't really count what I did on the treadmill as running. It's more like actively participating. Tomorrow, I will try to get back into it. Oh, I did girl push ups again. One day I will progress.

Tomorrow I am going to Banana Leaf for a goodbye dinner to Ron. ): I am determined to just get the tofu satay. It's fried food, but it is one of the cheapest and seemingly healthiest options. But what do I know? They* say McDonald's salads are higher in calories than their burgers.

*You're right, I don't know who they are.

walk not run

2010-06-15T20:54:00.000-07:00

I did not run today but I did walk a lot. I did my 20 minute DVD thing which is actually only about 15 since I don't cool down. Oh, and the fruit/veggie thing is totally working except I think my mom is still planning to make me tofu tomorrow. I thought she understood when I told her yesterday. Oh, mother.

The gift that I picked up from Sephora is much smaller than I had anticipated. I should have known that it was too good to be true.

Did you know that it is illegal in Maryland, Maine, Pennsylvania and New Jersey to use coupons for free milk? I requested for a promotional free milk coupon online and the milk company sent me a check instead.

My Letter to Twix

2010-06-15T14:35:00.000-07:00

I wrote this email to Twix a few days ago:

To Whom It May Concern:

I am loyal fan of the Twix fanchise. My family and I have been eating Twix for what must have been our entire lives. I have always respected the values that Twix instilled in its dear customers and supporters. In fact, I presume that the “Twi” in Twix is derived from the “twi” in twin. Twix candy bars always came in two in the past and that gave me much comfort. I knew that Twix valued togetherness, familial bonding, friendship, romance and sharing. I have always and probably will always be grateful to Twix for that.

In the past years, however, I have noticed that Twix has produced products that break its traditional values. Some of these products include Twix ice cream bars and chocolate bars that are individually packaged. My question is this: What the hell, Mars? What the hell?

Sincerely,
Twix Lover

Today, I received this:

Dear Valued Consumer,

In response to your email regarding TWIX CARAMEL COOKIE BARS.

Thank you for your email.

We are sorry to hear that you are disappointed with TWIX CARAMEL COOKIE BARS.

We appreciate your feedback and will share your comments with our Marketing Associates.

Have a great day!

Your Friends at Mars Chocolate North America

Is that what they're officially called? Twix Caramel Cookie Bars? I guess I should have known the proper name before declaring myself their biggest fan. You learn something new every day. The Twix people will share my feedback with marketing. Okay, Mars. Okay.

not an improvement

2010-06-14T20:46:00.000-07:00

Although today was not a good day, I did not fail completely. I woke up at 9:30 in the morning, which is a vast improvement from 2:30 in the afternoon. I only ran for 20 minutes because I thought that I might have been short on time (I wasn't). I got the security alarm installed. I attempted my 20 minute DVD routine for about 10 minutes before my mom came home with Chinese takeout. I really need to work on my eating habit. Oh, and right now I am trying to lift little weights while sitting/lying in bed.

.edit// I have convinced my mother to let me go on a one week vegetable/fruit (with the occasional cereal) diet. I hope the diet clears up my skin too. It has not been behaving.

My many uses for Vaseline/petroleum jelly

2010-06-12T22:55:00.000-07:00

There is always a giant bottle of petroleum jelly in my house. There are many things you can do with petroleum jelly. Here are the appropriate ones:

Lips: Petroleum jelly is one of the best lip moisturizer ever. It moistens and protects chap lips. It is the only thing that really works for me when my lips are really bad. I prefer using regular lip conditioners because they apply better and are more convenient, but this stuff really does the job. It's best for nighttime application. In addition, you can use it to exfoliate your lips. Just add some to your lips and use a old toothbrush to brush away the dead skin. The jelly will keep your lips moist.

Skin: It soothes dry skin. I sometimes use it on my old burn mark. It also works well on foot blisters, etc. The skin of my foot became really dry at one point and a few night of this stuff cured it. :) Great healing powers.

Heels: Put some petroleum jelly on the inside of your heels or shoes to prevent blisters and pain. It adds some moisture and a layer of protection between your shoes and your feet. You should definitely try it. Just don't add too much or it could get slippery.

The only ingredient in Vaseline is petroleum jelly, so feel free to pick up the generic petroleum jelly. There is no need to buy the Vaseline brand. They charge you extra only for the name. (The same goes with Advil/ibuprofen.)

Sunscreen Causes Cancer?

2010-06-12T13:16:00.000-07:00

So you know that I have been going crazy with the sunscreen. I slather it all over my face and body before leaving the house nowadays. Today, I found some interesting information.

Oxybenzone belongs to the family of benzophenones that is commonly used in sunscreen. It blocks out UV light that causes sunburns and damages. Ideally, it would do its job and then get washed off in the evening. A study by the CDC shows that this may not be the case and that the chemical may actually get absorbed into our system. In lab setting and in high concentration, oxybenzone has been shown to cause damages to the cells. In everyday life? Nothing that anyone has been able to prove as of yet.

My Neutrogena Ultra Sheer contains 6% oxybenzone. Am I going to continue using it? Probably. Skin cancer and damage is a more imminent danger. Oxybenzone, if harmful at all, may never affect me in my lifetime. People who look for the alternative sunscreens still get stuck with titanium dioxide or something of the sort which gets absorbed into the skin anyway.

It is a good thing I am not a huge fan of the sun.

Neosporin

2010-06-12T12:45:00.000-07:00

I accidentally gave myself first degree burn a few days ago and have been using Neosporin and cocoa butter lotion to aid in the healing process. I hear that cocoa butter is supposed to prevent scarring, so I hope it works. Neosporin is an antibiotic ointment that helps prevent infections.

While I was applying the Neosporin I found in my mom's room this morning, I noted the expiration date: Expires 07/2005. Yes, that was five years ago. How is it possible that my mother has something that expired five years ago sitting on top of her vanity? I really need to go through the medicine cabinet.

On the bright side, the burn seems to be softening and ready for peel. I am not sure if it is the cocoa butter or just the fact that I have been moisturizing the area like crazy. Regardless, what I am doing is working.

Workout Motivation

2010-06-12T08:59:00.000-07:00

There are only three weeks left until I leave for California. I want to get semi-fit before then. I am putting together a three week plan for myself and hoping that I will stick to it. I will try to update daily. If you see me faltering from my plan or not updating, please yell at me. I have been so unkind to my body since college. I really need this. Here is a general outline:

Healthy Diet:

No chips or fried food. My skin will also thank me for this.

Low carbs. I eat way too much carbohydrates for my own good.

Eat a lot of fruits and vegetables. I am lacking vitamins, I'm sure.

Take my fish oil pills. I need to finish that jar I bought so long ago.

Workout Plan:

Run/jog every morning for at least 30 minutes.

Follow the 20 minutes cardio DVD everyday.

Lift some weights everyday.

I have been running pretty consistently for the past month. I haven't cut back on my junk food but I will start now. As soon as I wake up, I will start on this plan. :) I tried that cardio DVD today and I thought it was great. The only problem is that when I was supposed to do push ups, I did planks. :( I have no arm strength at all.

Also, have you noticed how much I have been blogging? I am trying to make up for an entire year's worth of laziness. The idea right now is that if I stick to my 3-week plan, I should be blogging consistently to update you on everything.

Lonsdaleite

2010-06-11T20:08:00.000-07:00

While in Borders with Deb the other day, I came across a book called the Perfectly Useless Book of Useless Information. One of the useless facts state that lonsdaleite is 58% harder than diamonds. I jotted that down to remind myself to look it up because, well, maybe I would like to buy lonsdaleite one day.

The truth is that lonsdaleite is only harder than diamond in its pure form, which only exists as a simulation currently. Lonsdiete forms when meteorites containing graphite strike the Earth. The "heat and stress of the impact transforms the graphite into diamond, but retains graphite's hexagonal crystal lattice." It has also been synthesized in the lab.

Snapple Real Fact #103: Frowning burns more calories than smiling

2010-06-11T19:30:00.000-07:00

Frowning burns more calories than smiling.

This is probably true since scientists confirm that frowning uses more muscles than smiling. In reality, I think it depends on what kind of frowner you are. I am sure exaggerated frowns require a lot of muscle strength, but I think I have this passive frown that comes naturally. I am so used to it that it is not much of a workout anymore. So to keep up a good workout routine, I recommend you alternate between smiling and frowning. There is also this in between kind of face where you stretch your lips horizontally.

Note: This is an officially retired Snapple Real Fact because "Real Facts need some time to just kick back, put on a pair of slippers and play some shuffleboard."

Yes, I've decided to address random Snapple facts throughout this month. A few years ago, I emailed a Snapple representative to ask whether Snapple real facts were true. He kindly confirmed that they were. Many of them have been disproved since. To this day I distrust Snapple -- though I must say that I did go through a Snapple Mango Green Tea phase in high school.

i want to blog today

2010-06-11T14:53:00.000-07:00

I am determined to leave my house tomorrow. Today, I must read something or my brain will melt into my skull. Television is not good for the mind.

.edit// Haven't read yet, but I will. So far, I ate cereal while watching TV. I ate so much cereal, just straight out of the box. ): I think that is a strange sad face. This appears to be a normal face :( but ): is just so strange.

@Deb Send those books to my psu or google email. Did you know that you have your very own blog label? When I say those books, I mean everything you have.

still thinking about it

2010-06-07T02:02:00.000-07:00

It would suck not to die. We've all been working our way towards death.

Deb and I are starting a club, I've decided. I am going to pitch some ideas:
1. Letter Writing - We can hone our writing skills while having fun. We can write to hot celebrities and sick children. :) Like a nonprofit for fun.
2. Something Else - You think of it.

Neutrogena Ultra Sheer Dry Touch Sunblock SPF 55

2010-06-02T19:06:00.000-07:00

I am not ready for any sort of wrinkle prevention creams, so I going to use more sunscreen from now on. Since 70-90% of skin damage is caused by the sun, I figure this is a good choice. This Neutrogena sunblock contains SPF 55 and protects against both UVB and UVA. This should get my mother off my back about skin care and make me feel a little better about aging. I am a little concerned about using this in the eye area though. Is it too harsh? I think it's fine and prevents sun damage to the sensitive skin in the area, but most people use specialty sunscreen just for the eye area. I think it's quite excessive and may be some marketing gimmick to sell a smaller bottle of sunscreen for a higher price.

This sunblock feels very dry, but that also means it dries very quickly. I kind of forget that it is there except when I sweat. It comes off quite heavy. It just feels thick, but it works well to prevent me from burning.

twenty years old

2010-06-02T18:59:00.000-07:00

It's quite alarming to realize that I am turning twenty in a few weeks. I feel like I have been a teenager for so long that I can't quite grasp the concept of being in the twenties. It's a little early to worry about, I know, but I still worry. A few days ago, my mother told me that I should start taking care of my skin. Here I am still dealing with acne and my mother tells me to prevent fine lines and wrinkles. I feel so overwhelmed. It's not the skincare or aging part that concerns me, but the growing up part. I feel useless and unprepared. I am nothing that my mother was at my age. I'm afraid that I won't become all the things that I had hoped to become. I used to throw out promises of a bright, great future because reality was so far away and anything was possible. Now it's approaching rapidly and here I am, lying in an unmade bed with nothing planned. I may not become anything at all. I may not be successful; I may not even find a job. It's scary to think that in less than ten years, I will have to consider building my own family.

I don't actively think about these thoughts on a daily basis, but they're always in the back of my mind. I feel like I am wasting my summer because I should be working towards my future. While I spend my day lying in bed, I tell myself that I should not relax. The truth of the matter is that I am never relaxed because even when doing nothing, I worry about something -- or nothing.

june: month of contradiction

2010-06-01T22:45:00.000-07:00

For the month of June, my plan is to write down my thoughts and then contradict them. I'll be too lazy to follow through with that. See? It is working already. I could go on and on.

Things I Have Won from Girls Life

2010-06-01T21:00:00.000-07:00

Girls Life magazine is a magazine for tweens that offers daily sweepstakes. I don't read the magazine, but I often enter their online sweepstakes to win prizes. Here are the prizes I've accumulated from Girls Life over the years:

* Primal Elements XOXO Candle from Freidala
* Sport Hoodie
* Field Pack Tote from Farm Girl
* Louisiana Bag from Lulu's.com
* Nancy Drew Ransom of the Seven Ships for PC
* SNAPP CAM-4000 Digital Camcorder from Coby
* Hint QA30 Phone from Motorola
* Recycled Glass Pendant from Space Mermaid
* Ballet Flats from Zigi NY
* Osiris NYC 83MID Sneakers from Osiris
* Hannah Montana Towel from Disney
* Sunglasses from Sketcher's Eyewear
* Sunglasses from Pastry

You can only win once per month, but your siblings can enter too. I have a little trick to increase chances, but you're bound to win if you enter daily. I have only won maybe two things from other magazines, but I have won a bunch from GL, so I keep trying. This month's theme is tween books so I am not interested, but the grand prize is another story. I have never won a grand prize but this month's reward is an IPad.

I've given away some of the things I've won and sold others. I only use the handbag from Lulu's (my favorite bag) and the Primal Elements candle. Even when the candle is not lit, it smells good.

LinkShare Referral Program

one week

2010-04-27T22:30:00.000-07:00

It's scary to think that I will be done with my second year in one week. I am excited for summer, but I am so nervous about the finals. I am too "stressed" to study. =( I am going to get my life back together this summer: work out, eat right, write, read etc.

What if people normally run instead of walk? When you are out in the street, you see everyone running. You see someone walk and you have to slow down to ask, "Hey, what's with the slow walking?" And maybe the person will say something like, "I'm so early for work that I have to walk." Then you think to yourself that you have not walked in so long and you will try to fit in some time for walking this week.

can't wait for summer

2010-04-19T14:53:00.000-07:00

I have less than three weeks of hell left. One evening exam, one in-lab exam, one take home exam, four final exams and two lab reports to go. Excuse my lifelessness until then.

MotD: Diethyl Malonate

It smells like apples and is used in the malonic ester synthesis. :( I didn't get to make this one but I did synthesize isoamyl acetate, which smells like bananas! I will bring some home and let my mom sniff them. She likes the smell of bananas.

.edit// [06/11/10] I actually threw out the isoamyl acetate while cleaning out my lab bench. :( I am so careless.

things i am grateful for

2010-04-04T18:18:00.000-07:00

i have the best mother in the world
i have family and friends
i am healthy (probably)
i have an education (one i can make better use of)
i can choose to do what i want (with repercussions but nonetheless)
i can be whomever i want (in my mind)
i am limited only by myself (and that is already horribly limited)
i have internet (and perhaps running water)
i have myself (and mostly to myself)
if i were to die right now, people would probably notice

that's right, i'm here again

2010-03-13T11:57:00.000-08:00

I'm so upset that break is already over. It feels like the night before leaving although it's actually day. It's raining outside so the sky looks quite gloomy. I see a little bit of light outside my window, but it feels like nighttime every time I turn around to work. This is depressing. I have not gotten any work done over break. "The time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time." I keep trying to tell myself that. I keep trying.

.edit// I've been trying to finish up the Aldehydes and Ketones chapter, but haven't gotten much progress. I started the chapter yesterday and have read a total of 16 pages so far. I think I'll call that my accomplishment of the week and move on.

a glass half empty

2010-03-12T23:07:00.000-08:00

There is something that I am doing wrong. If I were doing right, I wouldn't feel this empty and bored. Nothing feels right... but nothing is wrong. It's not just one of those days when one feels like a hollow shell unworthy of being cracked open. I've been feeling this way for some time now. I don't know when it started; I don't know why. I don't document my lack of thoughts anymore.

Maybe it's because I don't excel in anything. I let myself go; I have no goal. It's about time I realize that I can't sit around and expect responsibilities to come to me. I have to find what I want and want it badly.

I just want to go back. I just want the impossible.

It's just not cool when I don't like myself. No, I don't know what's wrong. There is nothing wrong. I am just so bored of myself; I can't stand being around me.

.edit// I feel better about myself for writing that I don't like myself. Oh, the mind. I seem to keep a healthy flow of two posts per month. Let's keep that going and more. Who knows, maybe I'll even blog tomorrow since I should be doing homework.

New Blog Ideas

2010-02-19T11:04:00.000-08:00

It's just like me to think of ideas for a new blog while my old one is sitting in dust. Deb, here are some ideas you may be interested in. Feel free to pitch in.

Cyber-Bullies - We write mean things about everything and everyone and receive a lot of hate mail and cruelly respond to them. Make fun of twitterers, bloggers, writers, etc. We'll be the most hated blog ever. It'll be great!

Criminal Blogging - We're some sort of serial killer, rapist or criminal like thing. Maybe we just beat cats for fun. Maybe we're shoplifters and blog about cool things we steal daily.

Zombie Awakening - We're zombies and we write about our awakening to the real world. This can go two ways: We could blog about our zombie senses slowly awakening as days go on or we could just munch on brains.

Zombie Land - In the post-apocalyptic world, we're all zombies and our lives are just that interesting that we're documenting daily events. Imagine Seinfeld, but with zombies.

Zombie Porn - No explanation necessary.

Sorry for all the zombie ideas. I thought it was funny that you were violated by a zombie.

more incoherent thoughts

2010-02-12T23:55:00.000-08:00

I'm empty in so many ways. I'm like everyone else, yet I still feel unhappy. People think it's difficult finding themselves. It's so much worse to lose yourself.

These feelings that I have are so jaded and boring that I have trouble writing them. Why express the mundane? There used to be a time when I wrote things that made me think. The things I now write make me cringe. I want to avoid myself and my writing. I want to avoid my thoughts. They are all too familiar and redundant. How many others feel as I do? How many ways have these feelings been expressed? I want to challenge myself. I want to think new thoughts that are not my own. My thoughts are tiring, repetitive, childish and gruesomely boring. I want to start over. Maybe if I say that enough, I really will start over. I want to start everything over. I want a new mind, a new life. I want to be someone else.

There's a new thought. Never have I thought so honestly and seriously that I want to be someone else. I want to be someone else. I want to be somewhere else. I am tired of being bored. I am always bored. Since I've stopped thinking, stopped writing, stopped pretending that there was more. Since I came to smack myself in the face and said, there is nowhere else you'd rather be because there is nowhere better than reality. Ever since I've stopped dreaming, I've stopped living. Life has become so boring since. Things have to keep coming now. I have to keep looking for happiness, looking for fun. If I stop looking, it goes away. Nothing stays with me because I'm empty.

How practical should I be? How much should I dream? I don't want to go backwards.

incoherent thoughts

2010-02-12T23:52:00.000-08:00

There are several lines to cross before the actual realization. Even as I write this, I know that I've yet to cross. I stare at it and have it reflect upon me. It's too cruel to realize it, I know. The closer I get to the truth, to myself, the further I move away from him. It has never been in my nature to think that love is infinite or magnificent. Yet being in love, in the form of confusion and happiness, I want to let myself fall into this love. I don't convince myself; there is no ground to stand on there. Instead, I avoid myself completely. I respond to romance, infatuation, words and hints. I respond and keep up as if running a race. I don't stop to ponder. I don't pause to see that even without running, the finish line approaches me. I know that love is not everlasting and doesn't need to be. I don't need love and part of me doesn't even want it. It is not as grand as we make it out to be. I'm not the only one to feel this way. He too, knows the truth. Is it love to lead each other on? Is that not what we do? He and I go on with our lives, smitten by each other. We promise each other happiness and eternal love. The cruel truth is that with or without each other, we will continue to feel happiness, sadness, pain, loneliness and emptiness. We dwell on moments of happiness and the security and comfort of the familiar. We spoil each other happy. Love, they say, is blind. Then the lovers' job is to blind each others ways.

Avatar (2009)

2010-01-05T21:37:00.000-08:00

I went to see Avatar at the Riverview today. A lot of people have been recommending it. It was a great movie; but as it was nearly three hours, they could have developed Jake's relationship with the People a little more. I understand the need for romance, but sacrificing a few minutes here and there with the girl wouldn't hurt. I wanted to see more of the villagers and their culture. Jake's development and appreciation for the people just didn't come out too clearly for me. Still, the movie was action-packed and well thought out. Avatar craftily blended hints of science, politics, and spirituality. In reality though, things wouldn't have ended so nicely. Mankind would not have given up after one war. Stay tune for Avatar 2: Return of the Americans.

Disney's Up (2009)

2010-01-04T00:35:00.000-08:00

I finally managed to watch Up. It was bittersweet. Touching. Old age, losing loved ones - it's all so depressing.

I teared during the movie. I seldom do that (except for that time with The Lion King). I heard a lot of great things about this movie so my expectations were pretty high. Up didn't disappoint; though I must say, it was a lot sadder than I had anticipated. Old man Carl loves Ellie so much.

ABC's and things I like 2009

2009-12-30T22:05:00.000-08:00

Here is my attempt to list a few things I like this year. I had intentions to get to the letter Z, but you know how it goes: once a quitter, always a quitter.

A - apple pies after dark; the darker, the sweeter
B - back scratches; reminiscent of my childhood, thank you mom
C - catalytic things; they make reactions that much easier
D - discovery channel; helps me pretend I know things
E - eating high; I'm giving up my weight-gaining ways this new year
F - facebook games; it's a love-hate relationship
G - growing; it has its ups and downs
H - hate; I enjoy feeling things strongly
I - iphones; they're pretty cool, I'll finally admit (and never again)
J - jars; they're cute to say, to hold and open
K - Kathy; I want to like myself a little more
L - laziness; I am ending this list early due to it
M - massages; it feels so amazing, I end the list with it

I also like anisole. I thought of that as I was writing A, but I figured I shouldn't use it if I can't even remember what it does. I just like the sound of the word. A lot of molecules stick in my head because I like the way they sound. I don't know how to use any of it in an actual reaction. Happy last day of 2009! Good riddance.

I've written a few emails to old teachers. Surprisingly, Dr. J still remembers me. He even explained his hatred for Whaley. Ms. Cooke gave me life lessons as usual. Ms. Litman has yet to respond. She never bothers to write much back anyway. Retirement sounds great.

merry christmas aint so merry

2009-12-24T22:17:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas.

I just got a notice from an old friend that his fourteen-year-old cousin went missing Saturday morning. His glasses and phone were left behind. I am not too clear on the details, but this is really tragic. His family has reported the case and a lot of friends are trying to search for the kid. I wish I could do something to help. It doesn't hit you too hard until you try to relate. Just think about the possibilities. The boy might never come back. So easily, someone could just go missing from your life and never return. I hope the kid just wandered off somewhere by himself. I hope they find him in perfect condition.

Christmas is here and so is the new year. This wasn't a very good year for me. My grades in school are not as good as I would like them to be. I've accomplished little. In fact, I feel like I've taken many steps back. I don't write or think as often. I feel simple, dull and empty. My resolution for the new year will be up soon.

organic chemistry final

2009-12-13T11:52:00.000-08:00

I don't want to study. I just want to close my eyes and wait until this week ends. Why can't we just sleep through the bad times and wake up for the good?

Last night, I stayed up late to discuss the process of sex change, religion, cars, and empires. It was basically everything that did not involve studying. Before that, we confronted an ex-friend about her mooching, lying, backstabbing problems. Confrontations don't work; group bash-vent-therapy does. I wish people were more likable. No, I think I like disliking certain people. Some people live to be disliked.

I want food. I am so lazy that I barely leave my room nowadays.

Time's All-Time 100 Novels

2009-11-24T14:41:00.000-08:00

I think I will make it a goal to have read all of these before I die and sometime after I get my bachelors (because textbooks rule my life at the moment). I really think I may have made the wrong decision regarding my major but it's okay because I'll have a more stable career plus I'm too stubborn to admit it.

The Adventures of Augie March by Saul Bellow
All the King's Men by Robert Penn Warren
American Pastoral by Philip Roth
An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser
Animal Farm by George Orwell
Appointment in Samarra by John O'Hara
Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret by Judy Blume
The Assistant by Bernard Malamud
At Swim-Two-Birds by Flann O'Brien
Atonement by Ian McEwan
Beloved by Toni Morrison
The Berlin Stories: The Last of Mr. Norris and Goodbye to Berlin (New Directions Book) by Christopher Isherwood
The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler
The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood
Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy
Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh
The Bridge of San Luis Rey by Thornton Wilder
Call it Sleep by Henry Roth
Catch-22 by Joseph Heller
The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess
The Confessions of Nat Turner by William Styron
The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen
The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon
A Dance to the Music of Time. 4th movement, Winter by Anthony Powell
The Day of the Locust by Nathanael West
Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather
A Death in the Family by James Agee
The Death of the Heart by Elizabeth Bowen
Deliverance by James Dickey
Dog Soldiers by Robert Stone
Falconer by John Cheever
The French Lieutenant's Woman by John Fowles
Go Tell It on the Mountain by James Baldwin
The Golden Notebook by Doris Lessing
Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
A Handful of Dust by Evelyn Waugh
The Heart is A Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers
The Heart of the Matter by Graham Greene
Herzog by Saul Bellow
A House for Mr. Biswas by V. S. Naipaul
Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson
I, Claudius by Robert Graves
Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace
Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison
Light in August by William Faulkner
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis
Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
Lord of the Flies by William Golding
The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien
Loving by Henry Green
Lucky Jim by Kingsley Amis
The Man Who Loved Children: A Novel by Christina Stead
Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie
Money by Martin Amis
The Moviegoer by Walker Percy
Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf
Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs
Native Son by Richard Wright
Neuromancer by William Gibson
Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro
Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell
On the Road by Jack Kerouac
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest by Ken Kesey
The Painted Bird by Jerzy Kosinski
Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov
A Passage to India by E. M. Forster
Play It As It Lays by Joan Didion
Portnoy's Complaint by Philip Roth
Possession by A. S. Byatt
The Power and the Glory by Graham Greene
The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie by Muriel Spark
Rabbit, Run by John Updike
Ragtime by E. L. Doctorow
The Recognitions by William Gaddis
Red Harvest by Dashiell Hammett
Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates
The Sheltering Sky by Paul Bowles
Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut
Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson
The Sot-Weed Factor by John Barth
The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner
The Sportswriter by Richard Ford
The Spy Who Came in From the Cold by John Le Carré
The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway
Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston
Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe
To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee
To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf
Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller
Ubik by Philip K. Dick
Under the Net by Iris Murdoch
Under the Volcano by Malcolm Lowry
Watchmen by Alan Moore
White Noise by Don DeLillo
White Teeth by Zadie Smith
Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys

impressions of youtube channels

2009-10-03T18:00:00.000-07:00

Community Channel. I have many good things to say about this channel. It brightens my day to listen to Nat's dorky comments and awful mom jokes. It wasn't always so pleasant though. The first time I stumbled across the Community Channel, I saw a video called hand gestures. I could not understand why the video had so many positive ratings and feedback. The video was of one girl making little hand gestures by herself. I saw little point in it. The video was not especially funny or entertaining. The girl, Natalie, did not particularly stand out aside from her Aussie accent. I decided to continue watching a few more videos to understand the phenomena of her popularity. The more I watched, the more she grew on me. The attraction became more intimate (like with Nat's mom). Now I think I can be entertained by watching a video of Nat twiddling her thumbs. She has a genuine personality that she has portrayed well through her collections of videos. I like her and will continue watching.

mememolly. Cats inspired by cats was my first video with Molly. What can I say about this? The video was disturbing and strange enough to keep me searching through her channel for more. Many of her videos give an artsy indie impression. She tries to be creative and gets away with it. She is an attractive girl with pretty eyes and a smooth voice. Some videos are inspirational (dear body inspired many responses), while others disappoint. Sometimes I wonder if she'll be half as entertaining if she were not so attractive. Nevertheless, I like watching this channel from time to time.

spricket24. She won an Emmy award, but I still don't see it. Her End of the World video was somewhat informative and entertaining, but overall, I find Karen a little annoying. Maybe her fans have seen enough of her to get over her annoying tones and gestures, but I can't seem to get pass a few videos. Just watch her Emmy acceptance speech video. I know she is just trying to be cute and funny, but it doesn't do much for me.

so this is what happened

2009-10-03T16:26:00.000-07:00

I did not like blogger because I didn't blog on it. I switched to wordpress but I didn't blog on that either. Wordpress gave me no options for theme creativity and variability so I turned back to blogger. And that is the end of my not-very-epic blog move.

So I actually wanted a really cool update, something dramatic: I caught H1N1 after traveling the continents and I don't really know if I'll make it through. Then I go on to blog about the progression of my illness until one day I can blog no more. Instead, I am here to say that I've caught the regular seasonal flu because I was too lazy to visit the doctor for my vaccination. I am awful at coming up with quirky, exciting new things to talk about.

I am in Philly this weekend, ill and content. I have a lot of school work, but am always in search of better things to do. I spent most of my day watching youtube videos. I paid $90 for a trip home to watch Community Channel and mememolly from the comfort of my bed. It's all worth it because I get to eat my mom's cooking.

@Deb Visit me. Jul and Nia are coming to State College next weekend. It would be awesome if you could come along as well. I can promise you with hallucinogens, Jensen Ackles (on my laptop) and lots of squirrels.

I'm going to make it one of my goals to watch all the popular channels on youtube and comment on them individually. Or I can study for my Analytical Chemistry exam. This is quite the dilemma.

Home this weekend

2009-10-03T15:49:00.000-07:00

I am sick in bed. I am home. I am content.

No Work on a Sprained Ankle

2009-09-21T09:09:00.000-07:00

This weekend, I sprained my ankle and got no work done. I am miserably behind on all my school work. I still get irritated by people. And so my life is average.

I also skipped a day of work last week out of sheer tiredness and depression from taking the Orgo Chem quiz. I am working in an Earth Science lab. I play with ice core samples and measure their methane levels for paleoclimate records. I am still struggling with wrenches and screwdriver like things. I should tell Moon these things.

people remind me of quiet time

2009-09-15T01:29:00.000-07:00

Being alone makes me forget that I like being alone; being lonely makes me remember.

I think I am going through people withdrawal again. The thought of people is pissing me off. I am purposely turning humans around me into antagonistic characters. It isn't even that difficult. All I have to do is look at people from a different perspective. The moodiness helps.

People are so flawed. Just think about all the horrible things a good, kind, honest person is capable of doing. Think about it. It makes me angry.

Penn State Tomorrow

2009-08-21T22:28:00.000-07:00

I am going back to school tomorrow. I haven't felt anything up until today. Now I'm nervous, sad and a whole bunch of other things. I look back and wonder what I've done all summer. I regret not spending more time with some friends, with family, etc. I want to finish this whole leaving process. The night before I leave is always the worst part. I miss college, but this day is so difficult.

Dell Studio XPS 13

2009-08-14T22:32:00.000-07:00

I just ordered the XPS 13 from the Dell website a few hours ago. I will post more details once I receive the package, which should be here in 3-5 days. I bought the laptop certified refurbished for $719 plus tax which equals to $770. The regular laptop goes for $1000 plus cost of upgrades. Mine comes with the upgrades, 4GB RAM, etc. which should put it closer to $1200-1300. Why do I get it for so much cheaper? Because someone ordered it, opened the package and sent it back. Certified refurbished means that the laptop is in nearly mint condition. I say saving five hundred dollars is worth it.

//edit. I have received my laptop and it is wonderful. The color looks even better in real life. The coating is very shiny. I am afraid to scratch it. I have not really used it yet so I can't say much about performance, but everything looks gorgeous. I can't find a button that pops the laptop lid open. It seems the laptop was built to smoothly open manually.

The Ballad of Reading Gaol

2009-08-13T17:20:00.000-07:00

Although I never read really long poems, I read "The Ballad of Reading Gaol" today for the first time because of my love for Oscar Wilde. Maybe I have a thing for flamboyant men?

Wilde published this poem shortly after being released from Reading Gaol, where he served time for two years. During Wilde's imprisonment, he met with a man who got hung for murdering his own wife. That man, Wooldridge, is the star of this poem.

The Ballad of Reading Gaol
by Oscar Wilde

I.

He did not wear his scarlet coat,
For blood and wine are red,
And blood and wine were on his hands
When they found him with the dead,
The poor dead woman whom he loved,
And murdered in her bed.

He walked amongst the Trial Men
In a suit of shabby grey;
A cricket cap was on his head,
And his step seemed light and gay;
But I never saw a man who looked
So wistfully at the day.

I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every drifting cloud that went
With sails of silver by.

I walked, with other souls in pain,
Within another ring,
And was wondering if the man had done
A great or little thing,
When a voice behind me whispered low,
"That fellows got to swing."

Dear Christ! the very prison walls
Suddenly seemed to reel,
And the sky above my head became
Like a casque of scorching steel;
And, though I was a soul in pain,
My pain I could not feel.

I only knew what hunted thought
Quickened his step, and why
He looked upon the garish day
With such a wistful eye;
The man had killed the thing he loved
And so he had to die.
___
Yet each man kills the thing he loves
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.
___
He does not die a death of shame
On a day of dark disgrace,
Nor have a noose about his neck,
Nor a cloth upon his face,
Nor drop feet foremost through the floor
Into an empty place

He does not sit with silent men
Who watch him night and day;
Who watch him when he tries to weep,
And when he tries to pray;
Who watch him lest himself should rob
The prison of its prey.

He does not wake at dawn to see
Dread figures throng his room,
The shivering Chaplain robed in white,
The Sheriff stern with gloom,
And the Governor all in shiny black,
With the yellow face of Doom.

He does not rise in piteous haste
To put on convict-clothes,
While some coarse-mouthed Doctor gloats, and notes
Each new and nerve-twitched pose,
Fingering a watch whose little ticks
Are like horrible hammer-blows.

He does not know that sickening thirst
That sands one's throat, before
The hangman with his gardener's gloves
Slips through the padded door,
And binds one with three leathern thongs,
That the throat may thirst no more.

He does not bend his head to hear
The Burial Office read,
Nor, while the terror of his soul
Tells him he is not dead,
Cross his own coffin, as he moves
Into the hideous shed.

He does not stare upon the air
Through a little roof of glass;
He does not pray with lips of clay
For his agony to pass;
Nor feel upon his shuddering cheek
The kiss of Caiaphas.

II.

Six weeks our guardsman walked the yard,
In a suit of shabby grey:
His cricket cap was on his head,
And his step seemed light and gay,
But I never saw a man who looked
So wistfully at the day.

I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every wandering cloud that trailed
Its raveled fleeces by.

He did not wring his hands, as do
Those witless men who dare
To try to rear the changeling Hope
In the cave of black Despair:
He only looked upon the sun,
And drank the morning air.

He did not wring his hands nor weep,
Nor did he peek or pine,
But he drank the air as though it held
Some healthful anodyne;
With open mouth he drank the sun
As though it had been wine!

And I and all the souls in pain,
Who tramped the other ring,
Forgot if we ourselves had done
A great or little thing,
And watched with gaze of dull amaze
The man who had to swing.

And strange it was to see him pass
With a step so light and gay,
And strange it was to see him look
So wistfully at the day,
And strange it was to think that he
Had such a debt to pay.
___
For oak and elm have pleasant leaves
That in the spring-time shoot:
But grim to see is the gallows-tree,
With its adder-bitten root,
And, green or dry, a man must die
Before it bears its fruit!

The loftiest place is that seat of grace
For which all worldlings try:
But who would stand in hempen band
Upon a scaffold high,
And through a murderer's collar take
His last look at the sky?

It is sweet to dance to violins
When Love and Life are fair:
To dance to flutes, to dance to lutes
Is delicate and rare:
But it is not sweet with nimble feet
To dance upon the air!

So with curious eyes and sick surmise
We watched him day by day,
And wondered if each one of us
Would end the self-same way,
For none can tell to what red Hell
His sightless soul may stray.

At last the dead man walked no more
Amongst the Trial Men,
And I knew that he was standing up
In the black dock's dreadful pen,
And that never would I see his face
In God's sweet world again.

Like two doomed ships that pass in storm
We had crossed each other's way:
But we made no sign, we said no word,
We had no word to say;
For we did not meet in the holy night,
But in the shameful day.

A prison wall was round us both,
Two outcast men were we:
The world had thrust us from its heart,
And God from out His care:
And the iron gin that waits for Sin
Had caught us in its snare.

In Debtors' Yard the stones are hard,
And the dripping wall is high,
So it was there he took the air
Beneath the leaden sky,
And by each side a Warder walked,
For fear the man might die.

Or else he sat with those who watched
His anguish night and day;
Who watched him when he rose to weep,
And when he crouched to pray;
Who watched him lest himself should rob
Their scaffold of its prey.

The Governor was strong upon
The Regulations Act:
The Doctor said that Death was but
A scientific fact:
And twice a day the Chaplain called
And left a little tract.

And twice a day he smoked his pipe,
And drank his quart of beer:
His soul was resolute, and held
No hiding-place for fear;
He often said that he was glad
The hangman's hands were near.

But why he said so strange a thing
No Warder dared to ask:
For he to whom a watcher's doom
Is given as his task,
Must set a lock upon his lips,
And make his face a mask.

Or else he might be moved, and try
To comfort or console:
And what should Human Pity do
Pent up in Murderers' Hole?
What word of grace in such a place
Could help a brother's soul?

With slouch and swing around the ring
We trod the Fool's Parade!
We did not care: we knew we were
The Devil's Own Brigade:
And shaven head and feet of lead
Make a merry masquerade.

We tore the tarry rope to shreds
With blunt and bleeding nails;
We rubbed the doors, and scrubbed the floors,
And cleaned the shining rails:
And, rank by rank, we soaped the plank,
And clattered with the pails.

We sewed the sacks, we broke the stones,
We turned the dusty drill:
We banged the tins, and bawled the hymns,
And sweated on the mill:
But in the heart of every man
Terror was lying still.

So still it lay that every day
Crawled like a weed-clogged wave:
And we forgot the bitter lot
That waits for fool and knave,
Till once, as we tramped in from work,
We passed an open grave.

With yawning mouth the yellow hole
Gaped for a living thing;
The very mud cried out for blood
To the thirsty asphalte ring:
And we knew that ere one dawn grew fair
Some prisoner had to swing.

Right in we went, with soul intent
On Death and Dread and Doom:
The hangman, with his little bag,
Went shuffling through the gloom
And each man trembled as he crept
Into his numbered tomb.
____
That night the empty corridors
Were full of forms of Fear,
And up and down the iron town
Stole feet we could not hear,
And through the bars that hide the stars
White faces seemed to peer.

He lay as one who lies and dreams
In a pleasant meadow-land,
The watcher watched him as he slept,
And could not understand
How one could sleep so sweet a sleep
With a hangman close at hand?

But there is no sleep when men must weep
Who never yet have wept:
So we--the fool, the fraud, the knave--
That endless vigil kept,
And through each brain on hands of pain
Another's terror crept.
___
Alas! it is a fearful thing
To feel another's guilt!
For, right within, the sword of Sin
Pierced to its poisoned hilt,
And as molten lead were the tears we shed
For the blood we had not spilt.

The Warders with their shoes of felt
Crept by each padlocked door,
And peeped and saw, with eyes of awe,
Grey figures on the floor,
And wondered why men knelt to pray
Who never prayed before.

All through the night we knelt and prayed,
Mad mourners of a corpse!
The troubled plumes of midnight were
The plumes upon a hearse:
And bitter wine upon a sponge
Was the savior of Remorse.
___
The cock crew, the red cock crew,
But never came the day:
And crooked shape of Terror crouched,
In the corners where we lay:
And each evil sprite that walks by night
Before us seemed to play.

They glided past, they glided fast,
Like travelers through a mist:
They mocked the moon in a rigadoon
Of delicate turn and twist,
And with formal pace and loathsome grace
The phantoms kept their tryst.

With mop and mow, we saw them go,
Slim shadows hand in hand:
About, about, in ghostly rout
They trod a saraband:
And the damned grotesques made arabesques,
Like the wind upon the sand!

With the pirouettes of marionettes,
They tripped on pointed tread:
But with flutes of Fear they filled the ear,
As their grisly masque they led,
And loud they sang, and loud they sang,
For they sang to wake the dead.

"Oho!" they cried, "The world is wide,
But fettered limbs go lame!
And once, or twice, to throw the dice
Is a gentlemanly game,
But he does not win who plays with Sin
In the secret House of Shame."
No things of air these antics were
That frolicked with such glee:
To men whose lives were held in gyves,
And whose feet might not go free,
Ah! wounds of Christ! they were living things,
Most terrible to see.
Around, around, they waltzed and wound;
Some wheeled in smirking pairs:
With the mincing step of demirep
Some sidled up the stairs:
And with subtle sneer, and fawning leer,
Each helped us at our prayers.
___
The morning wind began to moan,
But still the night went on:
Through its giant loom the web of gloom
Crept till each thread was spun:
And, as we prayed, we grew afraid
Of the Justice of the Sun.

The moaning wind went wandering round
The weeping prison-wall:
Till like a wheel of turning-steel
We felt the minutes crawl:
O moaning wind! what had we done
To have such a seneschal?

At last I saw the shadowed bars
Like a lattice wrought in lead,
Move right across the whitewashed wall
That faced my three-plank bed,
And I knew that somewhere in the world
God's dreadful dawn was red.
___
At six o'clock we cleaned our cells,
At seven all was still,
But the sough and swing of a mighty wing
The prison seemed to fill,
For the Lord of Death with icy breath
Had entered in to kill.

He did not pass in purple pomp,
Nor ride a moon-white steed.
Three yards of cord and a sliding board
Are all the gallows' need:
So with rope of shame the Herald came
To do the secret deed.

We were as men who through a fen
Of filthy darkness grope:
We did not dare to breathe a prayer,
Or give our anguish scope:
Something was dead in each of us,
And what was dead was Hope.

For Man's grim Justice goes its way,
And will not swerve aside:
It slays the weak, it slays the strong,
It has a deadly stride:
With iron heel it slays the strong,
The monstrous parricide!

We waited for the stroke of eight:
Each tongue was thick with thirst:
For the stroke of eight is the stroke of Fate
That makes a man accursed,
And Fate will use a running noose
For the best man and the worst.

We had no other thing to do,
Save to wait for the sign to come:
So, like things of stone in a valley lone,
Quiet we sat and dumb:
But each man's heart beat thick and quick
Like a madman on a drum!

With sudden shock the prison-clock
Smote on the shivering air,
And from all the gaol rose up a wail
Of impotent despair,
Like the sound that frightened marshes hear
From a leper in his lair.

And as one sees most fearful things
In the crystal of a dream,
We saw the greasy hempen rope
Hooked to the blackened beam,
And heard the prayer the hangman's snare
Strangled into a scream.

And all the woe that moved him so
That he gave that bitter cry,
And the wild regrets, and the bloody sweats,
None knew so well as I:
For he who live more lives than one
More deaths than one must die.

IV.

There is no chapel on the day
On which they hang a man:
The Chaplain's heart is far too sick,
Or his face is far to wan,
Or there is that written in his eyes
Which none should look upon.

So they kept us close till nigh on noon,
And then they rang the bell,
And the Warders with their jingling keys
Opened each listening cell,
And down the iron stair we tramped,
Each from his separate Hell.

Out into God's sweet air we went,
But not in wonted way,
For this man's face was white with fear,
And that man's face was grey,
And I never saw sad men who looked
So wistfully at the day.

I never saw sad men who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
We prisoners called the sky,
And at every careless cloud that passed
In happy freedom by.

But their were those amongst us all
Who walked with downcast head,
And knew that, had each go his due,
They should have died instead:
He had but killed a thing that lived
Whilst they had killed the dead.

For he who sins a second time
Wakes a dead soul to pain,
And draws it from its spotted shroud,
And makes it bleed again,
And makes it bleed great gouts of blood
And makes it bleed in vain!

Like ape or clown, in monstrous garb
With crooked arrows starred,
Silently we went round and round
The slippery asphalte yard;
Silently we went round and round,
And no man spoke a word.

Silently we went round and round,
And through each hollow mind
The memory of dreadful things
Rushed like a dreadful wind,
An Horror stalked before each man,
And terror crept behind.
___
The Warders strutted up and down,
And kept their herd of brutes,
Their uniforms were spick and span,
And they wore their Sunday suits,
But we knew the work they had been at
By the quicklime on their boots.

For where a grave had opened wide,
There was no grave at all:
Only a stretch of mud and sand
By the hideous prison-wall,
And a little heap of burning lime,
That the man should have his pall.

For he has a pall, this wretched man,
Such as few men can claim:
Deep down below a prison-yard,
Naked for greater shame,
He lies, with fetters on each foot,
Wrapt in a sheet of flame!

And all the while the burning lime
Eats flesh and bone away,
It eats the brittle bone by night,
And the soft flesh by the day,
It eats the flesh and bones by turns,
But it eats the heart alway.
___
For three long years they will not sow
Or root or seedling there:
For three long years the unblessed spot
Will sterile be and bare,
And look upon the wondering sky
With unreproachful stare.

They think a murderer's heart would taint
Each simple seed they sow.
It is not true! God's kindly earth
Is kindlier than men know,
And the red rose would but blow more red,
The white rose whiter blow.

Out of his mouth a red, red rose!
Out of his heart a white!
For who can say by what strange way,
Christ brings his will to light,
Since the barren staff the pilgrim bore
Bloomed in the great Pope's sight?

But neither milk-white rose nor red
May bloom in prison air;
The shard, the pebble, and the flint,
Are what they give us there:
For flowers have been known to heal
A common man's despair.

So never will wine-red rose or white,
Petal by petal, fall
On that stretch of mud and sand that lies
By the hideous prison-wall,
To tell the men who tramp the yard
That God's Son died for all.

Yet though the hideous prison-wall
Still hems him round and round,
And a spirit man not walk by night
That is with fetters bound,
And a spirit may not weep that lies
In such unholy ground,

He is at peace--this wretched man--
At peace, or will be soon:
There is no thing to make him mad,
Nor does Terror walk at noon,
For the lampless Earth in which he lies
Has neither Sun nor Moon.
___
They hanged him as a beast is hanged:
They did not even toll
A reguiem that might have brought
Rest to his startled soul,
But hurriedly they took him out,
And hid him in a hole.

They stripped him of his canvas clothes,
And gave him to the flies;
They mocked the swollen purple throat
And the stark and staring eyes:
And with laughter loud they heaped the shroud
In which their convict lies.

The Chaplain would not kneel to pray
By his dishonored grave:
Nor mark it with that blessed Cross
That Christ for sinners gave,
Because the man was one of those
Whom Christ came down to save.

Yet all is well; he has but passed
To Life's appointed bourne:
And alien tears will fill for him
Pity's long-broken urn,
For his mourner will be outcast men,
And outcasts always mourn.

V.

I know not whether Laws be right,
Or whether Laws be wrong;
All that we know who lie in goal
Is that the wall is strong;
And that each day is like a year,
A year whose days are long.

But this I know, that every Law
That men have made for Man,
Since first Man took his brother's life,
And the sad world began,
But straws the wheat and saves the chaff
With a most evil fan.

This too I know--and wise it were
If each could know the same--
That every prison that men build
Is built with bricks of shame,
And bound with bars lest Christ should see
How men their brothers maim.

With bars they blur the gracious moon,
And blind the goodly sun:
And they do well to hide their Hell,
For in it things are done
That Son of God nor son of Man
Ever should look upon!
___
The vilest deeds like poison weeds
Bloom well in prison-air:
It is only what is good in Man
That wastes and withers there:
Pale Anguish keeps the heavy gate,
And the Warder is Despair

For they starve the little frightened child
Till it weeps both night and day:
And they scourge the weak, and flog the fool,
And gibe the old and grey,
And some grow mad, and all grow bad,
And none a word may say.

Each narrow cell in which we dwell
Is foul and dark latrine,
And the fetid breath of living Death
Chokes up each grated screen,
And all, but Lust, is turned to dust
In Humanity's machine.

The brackish water that we drink
Creeps with a loathsome slime,
And the bitter bread they weigh in scales
Is full of chalk and lime,
And Sleep will not lie down, but walks
Wild-eyed and cries to Time.
___
But though lean Hunger and green Thirst
Like asp with adder fight,
We have little care of prison fare,
For what chills and kills outright
Is that every stone one lifts by day
Becomes one's heart by night.

With midnight always in one's heart,
And twilight in one's cell,
We turn the crank, or tear the rope,
Each in his separate Hell,
And the silence is more awful far
Than the sound of a brazen bell.

And never a human voice comes near
To speak a gentle word:
And the eye that watches through the door
Is pitiless and hard:
And by all forgot, we rot and rot,
With soul and body marred.

And thus we rust Life's iron chain
Degraded and alone:
And some men curse, and some men weep,
And some men make no moan:
But God's eternal Laws are kind
And break the heart of stone.
___
And every human heart that breaks,
In prison-cell or yard,
Is as that broken box that gave
Its treasure to the Lord,
And filled the unclean leper's house
With the scent of costliest nard.

Ah! happy day they whose hearts can break
And peace of pardon win!
How else may man make straight his plan
And cleanse his soul from Sin?
How else but through a broken heart
May Lord Christ enter in?
___
And he of the swollen purple throat.
And the stark and staring eyes,
Waits for the holy hands that took
The Thief to Paradise;
And a broken and a contrite heart
The Lord will not despise.

The man in red who reads the Law
Gave him three weeks of life,
Three little weeks in which to heal
His soul of his soul's strife,
And cleanse from every blot of blood
The hand that held the knife.

And with tears of blood he cleansed the hand,
The hand that held the steel:
For only blood can wipe out blood,
And only tears can heal:
And the crimson stain that was of Cain
Became Christ's snow-white seal.

VI.

In Reading gaol by Reading town
There is a pit of shame,
And in it lies a wretched man
Eaten by teeth of flame,
In burning winding-sheet he lies,
And his grave has got no name.

And there, till Christ call forth the dead,
In silence let him lie:
No need to waste the foolish tear,
Or heave the windy sigh:
The man had killed the thing he loved,
And so he had to die.

And all men kill the thing they love,
By all let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!

The End

***

Second Version

I

He did not wear his scarlet coat,
For blood and wine are red,
And blood and wine were on his hands
When they found him with the dead,
The poor dead woman whom he loved,
And murdered in her bed.

He walked amongst the Trial Men
In a suit of shabby gray;
A cricket cap was on his head,
And his step seemed light and gay;
But I never saw a man who looked
So wistfully at the day.

I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every drifting cloud that went
With sails of silver by.

I walked, with other souls in pain,
Within another ring,
And was wondering if the man had done
A great or little thing,
When a voice behind me whispered low,
"That fellow's got to swing."

Dear Christ! the very prison walls
Suddenly seemed to reel,
And the sky above my head became
Like a casque of scorching steel;
And, though I was a soul in pain,
My pain I could not feel.

I only knew what haunted thought
Quickened his step, and why
He looked upon the garish day
With such a wistful eye;
The man had killed the thing he loved,
And so he had to die.

Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.

He does not die a death of shame
On a day of dark disgrace,
Nor have a noose about his neck,
Nor a cloth upon his face,
Nor drop feet foremost through the floor
Into an empty space.

He does not sit with silent men
Who watch him night and day;
Who watch him when he tries to weep,
And when he tries to pray;
Who watch him lest himself should rob
The prison of its prey.

He does not wake at dawn to see
Dread figures throng his room,
The shivering Chaplain robed in white,
The Sheriff stern with gloom,
And the Governor all in shiny black,
With the yellow face of Doom.

He does not rise in piteous haste
To put on convict-clothes,
While some coarse-mouthed Doctor gloats, and notes
Each new and nerve-twitched pose,
Fingering a watch whose little ticks
Are like horrible hammer-blows.

He does not feel that sickening thirst
That sands one's throat, before
The hangman with his gardener's gloves
Comes through the padded door,
And binds one with three leathern thongs,
That the throat may thirst no more.

He does not bend his head to hear
The Burial Office read,
Nor, while the anguish of his soul
Tells him he is not dead,
Cross his own coffin, as he moves
Into the hideous shed.

He does not stare upon the air
Through a little roof of glass:
He does not pray with lips of clay
For his agony to pass;
Nor feel upon his shuddering cheek
The kiss of Caiaphas.

II

Six weeks the guardsman walked the yard,
In the suit of shabby gray:
His cricket cap was on his head,
And his step was light and gay,
But I never saw a man who looked
So wistfully at the day.

I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every wandering cloud that trailed
Its ravelled fleeces by.

He did not wring his hands, as do
Those witless men who dare
To try to rear the changeling Hope
In the cave of black Despair:
He only looked upon the sun,
And drank the morning air.

He did not wring his hands nor weep,
Nor did he peek or pine,
But he drank the air as though it held
Some healthful anodyne;
With open mouth he drank the sun
As though it had been wine!

And I and all the souls in pain,
Who tramped the other ring,
Forgot if we ourselves had done
A great or little thing,
And watched with gaze of dull amaze
The man who had to swing.

For strange it was to see him pass
With a step so light and gay,
And strange it was to see him look
So wistfully at the day,
And strange it was to think that he
Had such a debt to pay.

The oak and elm have pleasant leaves
That in the spring-time shoot:
But grim to see is the gallows-tree,
With its alder-bitten root,
And, green or dry, a man must die
Before it bears its fruit!

The loftiest place is the seat of grace
For which all worldlings try:
But who would stand in hempen band
Upon a scaffold high,
And through a murderer's collar take
His last look at the sky?

It is sweet to dance to violins
When Love and Life are fair:
To dance to flutes, to dance to lutes
Is delicate and rare:
But it is not sweet with nimble feet
To dance upon the air!

So with curious eyes and sick surmise
We watched him day by day,
And wondered if each one of us
Would end the self-same way,
For none can tell to what red Hell
His sightless soul may stray.

At last the dead man walked no more
Amongst the Trial Men,
And I knew that he was standing up
In the black dock's dreadful pen,
And that never would I see his face
For weal or woe again.

Like two doomed ships that pass in storm
We had crossed each other's way:
But we made no sign, we said no word,
We had no word to say;
For we did not meet in the holy night,
But in the shameful day.

A prison wall was round us both,
Two outcast men we were:
The world had thrust us from its heart,
And God from out His care:
And the iron gin that waits for Sin
Had caught us in its snare.
III

In Debtors' Yard the stones are hard,
And the dripping wall is high,
So it was there he took the air
Beneath the leaden sky,
And by each side a warder walked,
For fear the man might die.

Or else he sat with those who watched
His anguish night and day;
Who watched him when he rose to weep,
And when he crouched to pray;
Who watched him lest himself should rob
Their scaffold of its prey.

The Governor was strong upon
The Regulations Act:
The Doctor said that Death was but
A scientific fact:
And twice a day the Chaplain called,
And left a little tract.

And twice a day he smoked his pipe,
And drank his quart of beer:
His soul was resolute, and held
No hiding-place for fear;
He often said that he was glad
The hangman's day was near.

But why he said so strange a thing
No warder dared to ask:
For he to whom a watcher's doom
Is given as his task,
Must set a lock upon his lips,
And make his face a mask.

Or else he might be moved, and try
To comfort or console:
And what should Human Pity do
Pent up in Murderers' Hole?
What word of grace in such a place
Could help a brother's soul?

With slouch and swing around the ring
We trod the Fools' Parade!
We did not care: we knew we were
The Devils' Own Brigade:
And shaven head and feet of lead
Make a merry masquerade.

We tore the tarry rope to shreds
With blunt and bleeding nails;
We rubbed the doors, and scrubbed the floors,
And cleaned the shining rails:
And, rank by rank, we soaped the plank,
And clattered with the pails.

We sewed the sacks, we broke the stones,
We turned the dusty drill:
We banged the tins, and bawled the hymns,
And sweated on the mill:
But in the heart of every man
Terror was lying still.

So still it lay that every day
Crawled like a weed-clogged wave:
And we forgot the bitter lot
That waits for fool and knave,
Till once, as we tramped in from work,
We passed an open grave.

With yawning mouth the horrid hole
Gaped for a living thing;
The very mud cried out for blood
To the thirsty asphalte ring:
And we knew that ere one dawn grew fair
The fellow had to swing.

Right in we went, with soul intent
On Death and Dread and Doom:
The hangman, with his little bag,
Went shuffling through the gloom:
And I trembled as I groped my way
Into my numbered tomb.

That night the empty corridors
Were full of forms of Fear,
And up and down the iron town
Stole feet we could not hear,
And through the bars that hide the stars
White faces seemed to peer.

He lay as one who lies and dreams
In a pleasant meadow-land,
The watchers watched him as he slept,
And could not understand
How one could sleep so sweet a sleep
With a hangman close at hand.

But there is no sleep when men must weep
Who never yet have wept:
So we- the fool, the fraud, the knave-
That endless vigil kept,
And through each brain on hands of pain
Another's terror crept.

Alas! it is a fearful thing
To feel another's guilt!
For, right within, the sword of Sin
Pierced to its poisoned hilt,
And as molten lead were the tears we shed
For the blood we had not spilt.

The warders with their shoes of felt
Crept by each padlocked door,
And peeped and saw, with eyes of awe,
Gray figures on the floor,
And wondered why men knelt to pray
Who never prayed before.

All through the night we knelt and prayed,
Mad mourners of a corse!
The troubled plumes of midnight shook
Like the plumes upon a hearse:
And as bitter wine upon a sponge
Was the savour of Remorse.

The gray cock crew, the red cock crew,
But never came the day:
And crooked shapes of Terror crouched,
In the corners where we lay:
And each evil sprite that walks by night
Before us seemed to play.

They glided past, the glided fast,
Like travellers through a mist:
They mocked the moon in a rigadoon
Of delicate turn and twist,
And with formal pace and loathsome grace
The phantoms kept their tryst.

With mop and mow, we saw them go,
Slim shadows hand in hand:
About, about, in ghostly rout
They trod a saraband:
And the damned grotesques made arabesques,
Like the wind upon the sand!

With the pirouettes of marionettes,
They tripped on pointed tread:
But with flutes of Fear they filled the ear,
As their grisly masque they led,
And loud they sang, and long they sang,
For they sang to wake the dead.

"Oho!" they cried, "the world is wide,
But fettered limbs go lame!
And once, or twice, to throw the dice
Is a gentlemanly game,
But he does not win who plays with Sin
In the secret House of Shame."

No things of air these antics were,
That frolicked with such glee:
To men whose lives were held in gyves,
And whose feet might not go free,
Ah! wounds of Christ! they were living things,
Most terrible to see.

Around, around, they waltzed and wound;
Some wheeled in smirking pairs;
With the mincing step of a demirep
Some sidled up the stairs:
And with subtle sneer, and fawning leer,
Each helped us at our prayers.

The morning wind began to moan,
But still the night went on:
Through its giant loom the web of gloom
Crept till each thread was spun:
And, as we prayed, we grew afraid
Of the Justice of the Sun.

The moaning wind went wandering round
The weeping prison wall:
Till like a wheel of turning steel
We felt the minutes crawl:
O moaning wind! what had we done
To have such a seneschal?

At last I saw the shadowed bars,
Like a lattice wrought in lead,
Move right across the whitewashed wall
That faced my three-plank bed,
And I knew that somewhere in the world
God's dreadful dawn was red.

At six o'clock we cleaned our cells,
At seven all was still,
But the sough and swing of a mighty wing
The prison seemed to fill,
For the Lord of Death with icy breath
Had entered in to kill.

He did not pass in purple pomp,
Nor ride a moon-white steed.
Three yards of cord and a sliding board
Are all the gallows' need:
So with rope of shame the Herald came
To do the secret deed.

We were as men who through a fen
Of filthy darkness grope:
We did not dare to breathe a prayer,
Or to give our anguish scope:
Something was dead in each of us,
And what was dead was Hope.

For Man's grim Justice goes its way
And will not swerve aside:
It slays the weak, it slays the strong,
It has a deadly stride:
With iron heel it slays the strong
The monstrous parricide!

We waited for the stroke of eight:
Each tongue was thick with thirst:
For the stroke of eight is the stroke of Fate
That makes a man accursed,
And Fate will use a running noose
For the best man and the worst.

We had no other thing to do,
Save to wait for the sign to come:
So, like things of stone in a valley lone,
Quiet we sat and dumb:
But each man's heart beat thick and quick,
Like a madman on a drum!

With sudden shock the prison-clock
Smote on the shivering air,
And from all the gaol rose up a wail
Of impotent despair,
Like the sound the frightened marshes hear
From some leper in his lair.

And as one sees most fearful things
In the crystal of a dream,
We saw the greasy hempen rope
Hooked to the blackened beam,
And heard the prayer the hangman's snare
Strangled into a scream.

And all the woe that moved him so
That he gave that bitter cry,
And the wild regrets, and the bloody sweats,
None knew so well as I:
For he who lives more lives than one
More deaths that one must die.
IV

There is no chapel on the day
On which they hang a man:
The Chaplain's heart is far too sick,
Or his face is far too wan,
Or there is that written in his eyes
Which none should look upon.

So they kept us close till nigh on noon,
And then they rang the bell,
And the warders with their jingling keys
Opened each listening cell,
And down the iron stair we tramped,
Each from his separate Hell.

Out into God's sweet air we went,
But not in wonted way,
For this man's face was white with fear,
And that man's face was gray,
And I never saw sad men who looked
So wistfully at the day.

I never saw sad men who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
We prisoners called the sky,
And at every happy cloud that passed
In such strange freedom by.

But there were those amongst us all
Who walked with downcast head,
And knew that, had each got his due,
They should have died instead:
He had but killed a thing that lived,
Whilst they had killed the dead.

For he who sins a second time
Wakes a dead soul to pain,
And draws it from its spotted shroud
And makes it bleed again,
And makes it bleed great gouts of blood,
And makes it bleed in vain!

Like ape or clown, in monstrous garb
With crooked arrows starred,
Silently we went round and round
The slippery asphalte yard;
Silently we went round and round,
And no man spoke a word.

Silently we went round and round,
And through each hollow mind
The Memory of dreadful things
Rushed like a dreadful wind,
And Horror stalked before each man,
And Terror crept behind.

The warders strutted up and down,
And watched their herd of brutes,
Their uniforms were spick and span,
And they wore their Sunday suits,
But we knew the work they had been at,
By the quicklime on their boots.

For where a grave had opened wide,
There was no grave at all:
Only a stretch of mud and sand
By the hideous prison-wall,
And a little heap of burning lime,
That the man should have his pall.

For he has a pall, this wretched man,
Such as few men can claim:
Deep down below a prison-yard,
Naked, for greater shame,
He lies, with fetters on each foot,
Wrapt in a sheet of flame!

And all the while the burning lime
Eats flesh and bone away,
It eats the brittle bones by night,
And the soft flesh by day,
It eats the flesh and bone by turns,
But it eats the heart alway.

For three long years they will not sow
Or root or seedling there:
For three long years the unblessed spot
Will sterile be and bare,
And look upon the wondering sky
With unreproachful stare.

They think a murderer's heart would taint
Each simple seed they sow.
It is not true! God's kindly earth
Is kindlier than men know,
And the red rose would but glow more red,
The white rose whiter blow.

Out of his mouth a red, red rose!
Out of his heart a white!
For who can say by what strange way,
Christ brings His will to light,
Since the barren staff the pilgrim bore
Bloomed in the great Pope's sight?

But neither milk-white rose nor red
May bloom in prison air;
The shard, the pebble, and the flint,
Are what they give us there:
For flowers have been known to heal
A common man's despair.

So never will wine-red rose or white,
Petal by petal, fall
On that stretch of mud and sand that lies
By the hideous prison-wall,
To tell the men who tramp the yard
That God's Son died for all.

Yet though the hideous prison-wall
Still hems him round and round,
And a spirit may not walk by night
That is with fetters bound,
And a spirit may but weep that lies
In such unholy ground,

He is at peace- this wretched man-
At peace, or will be soon:
There is no thing to make him mad,
Nor does Terror walk at noon,
For the lampless Earth in which he lies
Has neither Sun nor Moon.

They hanged him as a beast is hanged:
They did not even toll
A requiem that might have brought
Rest to his startled soul,
But hurriedly they took him out,
And hid him in a hole.

The warders stripped him of his clothes,
And gave him to the flies:
They mocked the swollen purple throat,
And the stark and staring eyes:
And with laughter loud they heaped the shroud
In which the convict lies.

The Chaplain would not kneel to pray
By his dishonoured grave:
Nor mark it with that blessed Cross
That Christ for sinners gave,
Because the man was one of those
Whom Christ came down to save.

Yet all is well; he has but passed
To Life's appointed bourne:
And alien tears will fill for him
Pity's long-broken urn,
For his mourners be outcast men,
And outcasts always mourn.
V

I know not whether Laws be right,
Or whether Laws be wrong;
All that we know who lie in gaol
Is that the wall is strong;
And that each day is like a year,
A year whose days are long.

But this I know, that every Law
That men have made for Man,
Since first Man took His brother's life,
And the sad world began,
But straws the wheat and saves the chaff
With a most evil fan.

This too I know- and wise it were
If each could know the same-
That every prison that men build
Is built with bricks of shame,
And bound with bars lest Christ should see
How men their brothers maim.

With bars they blur the gracious moon,
And blind the goodly sun:
And the do well to hide their Hell,
For in it things are done
That Son of things nor son of Man
Ever should look upon!

The vilest deeds like poison weeds
Bloom well in prison-air:
It is only what is good in Man
That wastes and withers there:
Pale Anguish keeps the heavy gate,
And the warder is Despair.

For they starve the little frightened child
Till it weeps both night and day:
And they scourge the weak, and flog the fool,
And gibe the old and gray,
And some grow mad, and all grow bad,
And none a word may say.

Each narrow cell in which we dwell
Is a foul and dark latrine,
And the fetid breath of living Death
Chokes up each grated screen,
And all, but Lust, is turned to dust
In Humanity's machine.

The brackish water that we drink
Creeps with a loathsome slime,
And the bitter bread they weigh in scales
Is full of chalk and lime,
And Sleep will not lie down, but walks
Wild-eyed, and cries to Time.

But though lean Hunger and green Thirst
Like asp with adder fight,
We have little care of prison fare,
For what chills and kills outright
Is that every stone one lifts by day
Becomes one's heart by night.

With midnight always in one's heart,
And twilight in one's cell,
We turn the crank, or tear the rope,
Each in his separate Hell,
And the silence is more awful far
Than the sound of a brazen bell.

And never a human voice comes near
To speak a gentle word:
And the eye that watches through the door
Is pitiless and hard:
And by all forgot, we rot and rot,
With soul and body marred.

And thus we rust Life's iron chain
Degraded and alone:
And some men curse, and some men weep,
And some men make no moan:
But God's eternal Laws are kind
And break the heart of stone.

And every human heart that breaks,
In prison-cell or yard,
Is as that broken box that gave
Its treasure to the Lord,
And filled the unclean leper's house
With the scent of costliest nard.

Ah! happy they whose hearts can break
And peace of pardon win!
How else may man make straight his plan
And cleanse his soul from Sin?
How else but through a broken heart
May Lord Christ enter in?

And he of the swollen purple throat,
And the stark and staring eyes,
Waits for the holy hands that took
The Thief to Paradise;
And a broken and a contrite heart
The Lord will not despise.

The man in red who reads the Law
Gave him three weeks of life,
Three little weeks in which to heal
His soul of his soul's strife,
And cleanse from every blot of blood
The hand that held the knife.

And with tears of blood he cleansed the hand,
The hand that held the steel:
For only blood can wipe out blood,
And only tears can heal:
And the crimson stain that was of Cain
Became Christ's snow-white seal.
VI

In Reading gaol by Reading town
There is a pit of shame,
And in it lies a wretched man
Eaten by teeth of flame,
In a burning winding-sheet he lies,
And his grave has got no name.

And there, till Christ call forth the dead,
In silence let him lie:
No need to waste the foolish tear,
Or heave the windy sigh:
The man had killed the thing he loved,
And so he had to die.

And all men kill the thing they love,
By all let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!

C. 3. 3.

The house by the sea

2009-08-12T03:23:00.000-07:00

This sketch sees the life of sprouting Sam. Sam's parents are young, divorced and seeking. Too much of a burden for them to bare, Sam is given to her aunt and uncle. This couple is much older than the last and cannot produce children of their own. They value Sam and raise her as well as any child could be raised. Sam appreciates her aunt's and uncle's kindness and lives up to their expectations fully. In this house by the sea, there is respect, kindness and generosity. They all live reasonably well.

In Sam, her uncle can fulfill his idea of success. He is an aging fisherman. He has good enough lodging, food to feed him daily, a wife to tend to his needs and enough money saved up to buy him a good resting place. He cannot cease to work, however. He is a fisherman. It is not only his job, but his identity. So on he works everyday. In his old age he continues to work hard and only in the last few years of his life has he begun to question the purpose of his life. Sam is the answer to his call. For her, his child, he can continue to work. She can give his life meaning. She will one day inherit all that is his. Sam is his idea of life.

The aunt sees no such thing in Sam. For her, Sam is not an oversimplified symbol of false hope. Sam is alive and breathing. She is a daughter to make one proud. As a retired school teacher, Sam's aunt enjoys teaching and counseling. Sam gives her the opportunity to attend parent-teacher-conferences, award ceremonies and graduations. Sam is a picture pulled out from her purse to show up the cousins and neighbors. Sam is fulfillment.

Sam pieces together her life and finds everything in place, good and standard. Her family is in every way wholesome and happy. She is grateful for life and for kindness. She cannot, however, help but sense the emptiness in this life by the sea. Some days as she walks past her aunt and uncle, she can almost hear their regret. What if they had not chosen her but instead continued to try for their own child? They can ask no more from Sam, but the thoughts linger in their minds: Would it be different if she were our own? Would this feeling of like and appreciation become love? Is this love?

Maternal love, the aunt thinks, is unconditional. I care for this child more than anything in life. If she were my own, can this love be greater still? Am I missing out on the best joy of motherhood? Or is this it?

Life, the uncle says, is about goals. My goal is to provide for this child. I will give her everything. That is life. That is everything.

Dexter: the social path of a sociopath

2009-07-30T05:21:00.000-07:00

I am watching the second season of Dexter and it seems as though Dexter is dark no longer. I do not like an impulsive Dexter who falls in love and lust. He is becoming too human. Give me back my darkly disturbed demon. Season two does not follow the second novel, so perhaps I should turn to the books.

Worthless: Rice Cooker or Your Article?

2009-07-10T06:35:00.000-07:00

A recent article on WalletPop.com placed the rice cooker among one of the "20 Most Worthless Pieces of Junk" in homes. I would like this opportunity to rebut the misinformed bloggers of WalletPop.

According to WalletPop, the rice cooker "does exactly what you can do with a cup of rice, a cup of water, a pan, and pretty much zero effort whatsoever."

The fact is, the rice cooker can do that and more. As the rice is being cooked in the electric rice cooker, you can wander off to do anything you like without worry. You can cook the rice minutes in advance or even hours in advance. The rice cooker is especially useful if you are cooking a lot of rice for many people. The cooker can quickly cook your rice and keep it warm while you cook other things. If you do not want to eat the rice immediately, the cooker will keep your rice moist until you are ready to serve it. The conventional stove will only expose your rice to air and contamination, making it dry within the hour.

And who's to say the rice cooker is limited to cooking only rice? You can make simple soup and noodle dishes in your everyday rice cooker. Throw in some water and boil an egg. It is extremely convenient for dorm rooms and low-budget students who have no access to stoves.

For many families that eat rice daily, several times a day, the rice cooker is essential. They can cook rice once during the day and every person in the family can eat the rice at their convenience. Almost every Asian family owns a rice cooker and most Asian restaurants use one.

Children can use rice cookers safely. Want to let your child feel included in the preparation of a family meal? Let your child make rice without being exposed to fire. A hot stove may not do the job, but the rice cooker can do all of that - and more .

Rice cookers are not worthless. They are widely sold and bought all over the world. Manufacturers and millions of consumers are not entirely stupid. They are profiting and benefiting from this convenient device. That is why it is continually produced and purchased.

Just because a blogger does not find an item particularly useful for herself does not mean she should blatantly label it as worthless. I can understand if one thinks that wipe warmers are useless. (Who really wants to warm your baby wipes only to have it smother in feces within seconds?) Rice cookers, on the other hand, are useful to many communities of people.

Find something better to do and do not blog if you are totally ignorant to the subject matter. Reading that WalletPop article was a big waste of my time, so I decided to waste some other people's time by making a post in defense.

Pierre Aviat: See You Everywhere

2009-06-14T01:20:00.000-07:00

I heard this song on Chanel.com this morning. I tried to look everywhere for it, but I couldn't find the song or the artist. I am not even sure of the lyrics, but I made something of it after listening to it for a good twenty minutes. It kind of makes you want to ice up on some Chanel, doesn't it?

I see you everywhere I put my ice around
I'm dancing everywhere you dance
If it could be any time when I ice up to cry
I'm looking for the time we shared

I see you everywhere I put my ice around
I'm dancing everywhere you dance

I hope you stay for long

//edit. I just found a youtube video for Chanel Paris Moscou Pre Fall 2009 : Focus on Accessories with this song playing in the background. As is on the Chanel website, the same verses repeat throughout except for the last line, which is sang only once.

~~I have acquired an mp3 of the song and uploaded it to my server: See You Everywhere (MP3 - 3379 KB).~~

Praying Mantis

2009-06-11T01:11:00.000-07:00

The praying mantis may resemble a harmless grasshopper from afar, but this relative of cockroaches and termites preys on mice and snakes as easily as it consumes its regular diet of insects.

There have been many reports of the mantis attacking small hummingbirds. After capturing the hummingbird with its front legs, the praying mantis would feast while its prey wreaths in the pain of being eaten alive. A Google or YouTube search will result in video recordings of such occurrences. You may not want to watch it if you're squeamish. And if you're not, look for the videos of the female mantis eating its mate alive.

I'm Afraid of Disappointment

2009-05-31T13:27:00.000-07:00

I don't want to take him too seriously. I don't want to allow myself to love the boy in love. I can stop myself any time now without any real pain, just simple displeasure. To give myself to temptation--to his sweet words and wishful thoughts--is to risk disappointment. When he tells me he loves me (which I believe he will), I will believe that he himself believes so. I will not, however, believe that his weak feelings will carry our relationship through without him hurting me in the end. I don't think he is a liar; I think he is ignorant. He doesn't know that his love is hollow. I don't want to let him convince me to believe because once I believe, I will find myself holding on to this love alone.

There is a difference between passion and love. I'm always afraid that my partner may be ignorant of that.

Too often am I tempted to cross the line. It is just too comforting to let yourself believe. Maybe it isn't he who convinces me, but I who convince myself. I want to believe... even in a mirage.

you don't live just because you are alive

2009-05-12T14:03:00.000-07:00

Hope
He rose up on his dying bed
and asked for fish.
His wife looked it up in her dream book
and played it.
- Langston Hughes

Having cleaned my room earlier today, I am feeling strangely nostalgic right now. I went through a lot of high school magazines, writing assignments, homework, etc. There were some pages of notes I could not connect to a single class I had taken in high school. When did I ever learn about crescent moons and tidal waves? I still remember the days of eating mini bagels on the floor by people's lockers, seeing boys in leotards and watching film crews around every corner. High school was not that long ago, yet I seem to be holding onto the last remnants of it. My memory is failing me. Nostalgia did not work this way when I was younger.

the final week before finals week

2009-05-02T10:31:00.000-07:00

My sudden urge to blog is not too surprising if you can see the books surrounding me. I have both my chemistry and physics exams early on Monday. I have no one around me, no new emails and no facebook notifications. Blogging is my last resort.

In my veins flow the blood of a procrastinator. I am in the library downloading BuddyPress. I don't know what BuddyPress is; I only know that I really, really want it and that I will have it installed within the next ten minutes.

Speaking of wants and installations... Do all babies really want to be born? I sometimes think want is too strong a word. If it has no desire to die, would it have too a strong desire to be born at all?

"All babies want to get born!" Su-Chin from Juno

This is not my stance on abortion rights. I question whether people make choices; I don't question their decisions. I feel as though I have no right to pass judgment on someone who I am not. I often wish the government would feel the same.

//edit. I have wasted an hour of my (study) time failing to install BuddyPress and thinking about babies.

home easter weekend

2009-04-09T10:46:00.000-07:00

Home this weekend. A little stressed out. Will write you a long email for sure Deb.

Spirited Away

2009-04-03T05:04:00.000-07:00

"The film sees a sullen ten-year-old girl in the middle of her family's move to the suburbs wander into a world ruled by gods, witches, and monsters; where humans are changed into animals; and a bathhouse for these creatures. The major themes of Spirited Away center on the protagonist Chihiro and her liminal journey through the realm of the bathhouse of the gods."

~~Download: Spirited Away (right-click and save as .avi file)~~

I Have Not Been Thinking As of Late; I Have Not Been Living

2009-04-02T09:30:00.000-07:00

I've attended a total of two classes in the past two weeks. I would like to say that I do not care and that I am living freely and enjoying life, but that is not the case. I am avoiding everything I don't want to face. The worse I feel about my current state, the less I feel inclined to do anything about it. I remember having momentary goals and desires. I don't know what I'm doing or where I'm going now. It's not that I used to really know, but that I used to care to know. Lately, I've stopped trying .

I haven't written in my journal. I haven't sat down quietly to think to myself. It is as if I have been avoiding my own thoughts. I used to be very honest with myself. I figured it was the least I could do. Now I occupy myself with people and trivial matters. I act upon impulse and then forget and move on. I always made mistakes before, but I thought about them afterward. I pondered my actions, thoughts, and intentions. As useless as it was, I wanted to find and define myself in a way. College, they say, is the place to find yourself. Then why is it that I feel like I have lost myself completely?

I can almost answer that question now that I am thinking about it. I dislike myself. I dislike myself very much at this point in life. I have come to a realization that there is nothing admirable or desirable about my character. I thought that my lack of values and virtues made me free, but I now see the flaw in that logic. I am fickle and weak. Any line I draw for myself I know I can cross. I let temptation lure me in because, really, what does it even matter? I don't believe in universal morality. I am never wrong because I am wrong, but because somewhere along the line, I miss out on being right. I live because I am alive.

Existentialism should make me feel better about myself, but the philosophy is too empty to satisfy my hunger.

Classes Are Myths I Don't Attend

2009-03-23T03:32:00.000-07:00

I am not having as difficult a time being a vegetarian as I thought I would have. If it were more convenient, I could easily be a vegetarian for life. It won't make much of a difference in the long run because college has made me begin to lose interest in food. Right now I am eating a grilled vegetable sandwich at the library. I enjoy it almost as much as I enjoy skipping mythology class.

MW Word of the Day: sciolism • \SYE-uh-liz-um\ • noun : a superficial show of learning

aka: my education