OK. We have a new blog URL, similar to the current but with a twist. http://bittersweetie.blogspot.com

Cool how you've got that mental sharpness/stamina to create little pieces of poetry while processing other thoughts and feelings that call for attention during the regular day. I used to have it in JH/HS and the beginning of college. I couldn't stop writing then. Wrote all day and all night, whenever I could, as if putting my thoughts and feelings on paper in a creative way was my only means to organizing and understanding them. I wrote more out of desperation than for any other reason... The level of mental sharpness/stamina I had to express myself in that manner is long gone... replaced by what exactly, if anything, I don't know. I miss it. A little.

Still reminiscing like crazy about 1991-1994. The "HS/Pro Image Years" in which each day was like an entire week. Too much happened to me during those days. I could write a thick book just about those years and the things I experienced, learned, felt. I hadn't thought about that time in awhile... until last nite. Now I feel an urge to contact my old friends, coworkers, ex-boyfriends, etc. from then just to chat about the old times... help me remember who I was then and what I went through.

Awww yeeeaah... Someone I know (Tannie) actually remembers dad's ol' franchise store, Pro Image, which was located within SouthShore Center in Alameda. Store doors were open seven days a week, every single day except Thanksgiving and Christmas, between the summer before my junior year in HS and a random date in 96 or 97. Funny how I can't remember the exact dates... how blurry everything is in my head now. Actually, that's more sad than funny.

That era, comprising the time I worked at that store, was an incredibly character-defining, over-eventful, over-emotional era of my life... My dad calls 'em "the good ol' days," when black Starter parkas sold like hotcakes, and every guy in town wore a cap or beanie, basketball jersey and such. And no one could get enough Oakland Raiders stuff. Throughout HS, my dad forced me to work at that store after school every single day, on the weekends, and all summer long, to keep me out of the trouble he imagined I'd get into if I wasn't there. (What he imagined and what I did in reality is a story in itself.) While other kids played sports, watched TV, went on dates, or did whatever HS kids did back then after school (I still have no idea), I lived my second, muchmore colorful life at that store... closed it up every nite for how many days straight... School was unbearable 'cuz it full of hypocritcal, so-called-Christian, snobby, white 90210-wannabe kids... like, oh-my-God! ...and Asian women, er Asians in general, were not yet the minority du jour. AT ALL. We were kinda persecuted, totally unpopular. I was so ignored at school... but at work, it was a whole 'nother show. I got HELLSof a lot of attention. 17 years old with super long hair lightened by Sun-In, big made-up eyes, dark lipstick, large hoop earrings... I knew every franchise team there was at the time in MLB, NHL, NBA, NCAA, NFL. I could tell what size fitted baseball cap you wore just by lookin at your head. At work, I was everything I wasn't at school... talkative, outgoing, confident, respected, excited, desired powerful. I learned how to sell anything to anyone. Dad made me the employee manager, and of course I got a big kick outta that. We employed a buncha interesting pps. Of all, I remember Milly the most fondly. We became really close friends while working together. I still love ya, sis...

Now my mind is flooded with a whole lotta memories from that era of my life. The good, bad, ugly, scandalous, etc. Lotsa stories to tell...

Maybe it's 'cuz we've been having days of glorious weather. Everyone seems a little sillier lately. Just in the last week or so. Been hearing people say sillier things, do sillier things... Giddy. People seem loosened up... maybe even a little capricious. Maybe I'm not taking people as seriously as before, or maybe I'm projecting. Have I actually been relaxing my attitude?

Today, the memorial service for our co-worker's husband who was murdered last week will be held. Today is also the year anniversary of the murder of Maria A*n*n H*s*i*a*o. I've thought of this day often.

In a year since your passing, what have I done? What would you have done with the year? I've so distanced myself from your sister and her/my friends because I couldn't at all deal with the constant reminders of your death, the profound grief that accompanied it, and the hard-hitting questions it brought to my mind... Is that the truth? Why didn't I force myself to face the discomfort then, for the sake of my friends and for the sake of becoming a stronger, better person? It seems too late now... to make up for the year that I spent trying to escape your tragedy like a coward, for not being there for your sister like a true friend, for casting off the enormous empathy I felt 'cuz I thought it hurt too much, for not being strong enough at the time to drop my own personal griefs to allow my mind some time and space to dedicate to my friends who were trying so hard to cope with your absence... I feel guilty, ashamed, and sorry.

You enjoyed life and people so much. You laughed a lot, smiled constantly. You had an ever-present and contagious aura of genuine joy. You were like an angel, even then... I worried about you because I didn't understand how you could be the way you were. I thought you naive and prey for danger. You were sailing through life, oblivious to the bad weather or sharks or ominous waves around you. You were glad for each new day, and you lived as if each moment could be your last. Let me believe this of you... that you knew little or no sorrow or pain even until your last moments. You inspire me to do the same... to continuiously savor and treasure life and people, to see good in everything deserving... Maria, lovely angel, may I never forget you... rest in peace...

I can't think 'deep' right now. *shake head* Still nothing but shallow thoughts. 'sok, I don't really care to be thinking right now anyhow. We went to F&A in Palo Alto last nite, and I got in my weekly sloshing. I think that no matter how well my life goes or how fulfilled I feel, I'd still want to drink. I don't think I could ever pass up or replace the pleasure of the alcohol buzz. What factors would limit my desire to drink? All I can think of are cost and the availability of fun people to drink with. I'd drink as often and as much as I feel is worth the money I'd have to spend to do so, as long as there are intriguing/interesting people with whom I feel comfortable to drink with. Right now, I think I'd run out of people to drink with before I'd deplete my slosh fund... but that's ok too. Save for travel.

Now's a time I wouldn't mind uncapping a bottle of that natural high I was feeling earlier.

I'll go ahead and admit, I'm currently directionless too... 'cept I'm pretty good at avoiding thinking about it. Or am I? Damnit, you all just reminded me to think about it. Fuck, I probably have bins and grenades too... full/comprised of supressed and repressed shit.

Heheh. I guess I'm a strange one for fetishes and fixations. Believe it or not (and you can confirm w/ Dave and my exs), I once had a thing for armpit odor. Armpit odor isn't quite as bad as total body BO... I'm glad I outgrew that thing...

Life is so very precious and special, and everything in the world is simply amazing and exudes extraordinarily spectacular beauty.

Not hyperbole. That's what hits me whenever I take my lunch breaks and spend time alone, driving around, walking around... listening to and observing life outside of work. I feel so high just to be alive in this place, and to be receiving such wonderful sensory input. I am replete with feelings. I feel the need to join the world in creating and/or eliciting that kind of beauty and those feelings which it bestows up on me... to give it back in appreciation and celebration. I wish I could capture this feeling into a bottle, and regularly drink it up. Too soon will it fade away...

On the other hand, it matters to me greatly that I get to know you. So don't you worry about no one lookin your way now...

To the guy at the gym with a tattoo of a feline animal (looks like a black panther) on the right shoulder blade... you look fuckin awesome. I'm sure you know it. Your upper bod ROCKS. You're a great height, great color, and you match your shoes with your clothes. You're somethin special... You could put in a little more work on your calves tho, bro... but I don't really ever have to look down there. I've noticed you for more than half a year. You're the type of guy I'd never have an ordinary opportunity to talk to, much less become friends with. There'd be no scenario in which I'd be introducing myself to you or carrying on a normal get-to-know-you conversation with you. I'd never walk up to you to start a random chat because I'm shy and because your beauty intimidates me. And if by some stroke of luck we find ourselves talking, I think there'd be an obvious disinterest on your part in me and my affairs. Why would you ever want to know me? What could I ever do for you? You're clearly out of my league. We couldn't just be friends 'cuz I'd always be longing to bone you 'cuz you're so fine... or I'd stick out like a sore thumb among you and your fantastically attractive friends. You're probably ultra cocky. And frankly, it really matters not to me that I'll never get to know you. I'm perfectly happy just sneaking peaks at you at the gym. I think it'd be super cool if, someday, I look impressive enough to make you likewise think of me for a moment or two...

Ugh. Jennie's psyche... where you'd find yourself left alone, hearing nothing but your own thoughts for weeks on end... Here at work, in this room, locked away (literally), all day, I see and feel no one but myself... hear nothing but my own droning thoughts about myself... I don't like being in here. It's not constructive for me. *I* need/want MORE external stimulus... I need input from outside my mind. We need to exchange places for awhile.

So I come into work and find out about this... The man murdered is our administrative assistant's husband.

I'm taking suggestions for a new URL for my blog. "bitterkitty" doesn't seem to fit... Send me your suggestions. For now, I've set up [...] I will transfer to that site at the end of the week, or as soon as I've settled upon the new URL. Links to this blog will still work after I transfer.

That's more like it. Last nite, I made up for Fri nite's lack of an alcohol-induced good time. Got drunk and giddy and uncontrollably giggly. I really needed to do that...

Today, I got to do something I've wanted to do again for a long time. Sat in with friends that got together to play a little music together. It was a lot of fun watching and singing along when I could. I thought of the last time I was in the same position...watching people interact that way, connecting and sharing, but not being able to join in completely. I've always wanted a part... and I'll try to create one for myself this time. It NEVER suffices to just sit there and empathize... envious...

The weekend is over, and I have the same things to resolve that I had when the week and weekend began... but I can't seem to escape them anymore.

Drinking games, the way we played 'em last nite, really don't work for me. Maybe the problem was that the drinks were too weak and too infrequent... and/or we played the games way too slowly. I was conflicted... Think or drink? Focus on winning, and I don't get to drink. Fuck it... I'll drink whether I win or lose. Try to focus on winnng after drinking a little, and I beat down the buzz. Damnit... why am I sitting here playing these silly games if all I really wanna do is drink my mind away? I guess some ppl find trying-to-focus-while-under-the-influence to be the fun part. I dunno. Me... I aim to surrender my mind and bask in the growing buzz. Maybe the buzz and the control aren't mutually exclusive...? We gotta do shots next time... and turn down the lights so my beet-red shiny face doesn't attract so much attention. Hate that...

*Sigh* I wish I could have that much fun sober too...