Friday, November 29, 2002
Happy Thanksgiving ... well, even though it's now midnight.. but whatever. I am full. Stuffed. Err, only Americans would invent a holiday for the sole purpose of stuffing face. Seriously...

It was actually a good Thanksgiving. I had fun *gasp* ... with family *shudder* ... my mum, her friends and my brother and his girlfriend surrounded the table.. it was a nice fun, mellow evening. I made people laugh. My mum told sorted stories of our childhood and the past. I like family gathering like this... I like knowing my mother had a life before me and my brother.

I watched Bridget Jones's Diary again 'cause I was in the mood for Brit comedy. I was annoyed by Renee Zellweger's accent this time.. I guess 'cause I have been immersed in all things British over the past few months.. I now notice how absolute crap her accent really was. And I saw Notorious C.H.O. which is by far the most I've laughed at a movie this year. I just love Maragret Cho. "Is he the gay?" "I don't know if he's the gay.. he has to do the parade all by himself.." And yes, I finally brought Kissing Jessica Stein on DVD.

posted by runner | 12:04 AM

Thursday, November 21, 2002
Last night, I burned myself a 80s Soundtrack Mix.. thankfully, I came to my senses and only inclued two Kenny Loggins songs..

Madonna -- Into the Groove (Desperately Seeking Susan)
Deniese Williams -- Let's Hear it for the Boy (Footloose)
Katrina and the Waves -- Walking on Sunshine (The Secret of My Success)
Phil Collins -- Two Hearts (Buster)
Pretty Poison -- Catch Me I'm Falling (Hiding Out)
Pebbles -- Mercedes Boy (License to Drive)
Irene Cara -- What a Feeling (Flashdance)
Kenny Loggins -- Footloose (You can figure it out)
Michael Sembello -- Maniac (Flashdance)
Glenn Fry -- The Heat is On (Beverly Hills Cop)
Tina Turner -- We Don't Need Another Hero (Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome)
Kenny Loggins -- I'm Free (Footloose)
Rod Stewart -- Love Touch (Legal Eagles)
Climie Fisher -- Love Changes Everything (How I Got into College)
Modern English -- I Melt with You (Valley Girl)
Simple Minds -- Don't You Forget About Me (The Breakfast Club)
Plimsouls -- A Million Miles Away (Valley Girl)
Prince and the Revolution -- Let's Go Crazy (Purple Rain)
Alisha -- Do You Dream About Me? ( Mannequin)
Knight Rider -- Theme (ahh.. memories!)

I AM GEEK SUPREME! Why do I even know these songs??

posted by runner | 10:30 PM

Sunday, November 17, 2002
Back from a night of food and drinks... and watching really, really drunk people bump and grind against each other.. oh the fun! Had some really good Thai food though... which is a small miracle, considering, up to this point in my life, I've only had bad Thai food.

We met up with Walters at some bar called Tribe. It was actually sort of fun.. in a drunk, smoky, crowded sort of way. The evening got better once we managed to grab some seats on one of the sofa... that way, I could watch the masses converge and try to hook-up. It was actually a tame night.. considering I didn't see that many dry humping sessions. Any bar that plays "The Humpty Dance" is all right by me.

Saw Crush today .. with Andie MacDowell and Anna Chancellor... I don't know what to think about it. I laughed out loud a few times, but then it got all serious and melodramatic... I felt like I was watching some two-bit Sirk movie.. really bad 50s melodrama. I will say this.. Anna Chancellor does have a quality.

Finally got my hands on V: The Final Battle ... can't wait to see it all. Diana rules! I think I had a crush on her when I was eight. It's the hair, baby.. the hair.

posted by runner | 3:51 AM

Thursday, November 07, 2002
Last week, I went down to the World Trade Center site for the first time in months. The city has erected a fence around the entire sixteen acres and simple display with all the names of the victims. I found her name. My cousin's best friend whom I meet for the first time on September 10, 2001 when we were burying Rob. I've replayed our meeting over and over again in my head sometimes. Maybe .. part of me thinks that if I do it hard enough, I could somehow go back to that moment and warn her. Silly and stupid.. I know, but I still can't help but wonder.

I'm thinking about this tonight because I just finished watching a special on the History Channel (those bastards) about the Twin Towers and all those memories came flooding back.

I think I've consciously avoided going to the site because I know there is a large part of me that doesn't even want to admit it happened, like I can pass it off as some horrible nightmare I had one night. I stood near that fence for what seemed like forever, just staring into this quite, empty space. I closed my eyes and I could still see them there; vivid, perfect and solid. But when I open them again, they are gone. It like someone is performing the world's greatest magic trick.. they are here and now they are gone.

I have so many memories of those buildings that are so real and haunting. Running through the complex to catch a screening of Snatch at the Regal Cinema... saying good-bye to Brooke... visiting Mayra's cousin in 7 World Trade... watching Moulin Rouge with Rose... running through the Mall to catch the train... playing hooky from work and riding down the escalator with Adam and June to go to Great Adventure... that Borders bookstore...the Au Bon Pain... that sign that side "Welcome to New York" as you exited the Path... my god, as I write... I can see it all so clearly like I'm looking at a photograph. I constantly have to remind myself that none of this exist anymore... it was all taken from me.. from us.. from this city. Ripped away like an arm being cut off. But sometimes, I can still feel it prickling, like a limb that has fallen asleep, but is slowly waking up. I can still feel it. In the end, these memories are the most tangiable thing I have left.

posted by runner | 11:24 PM

I think I've always known what I am. My father, a man not known for keen observations (he still has no idea when my birthday is), surprised me day about four years ago when he looked into my face and said, "you're a writer." And when I think of myself and my purpose, I always come back to that look of confidence and truth as my father said those words. Part of me wants to honor those words as truth. I've always been a writer. I wrote my first "book" when I was about six. I folded ten sheets of paper I stole from my brother neatly in half and weaved a morality tale about stolen cookies and telling the truth. The heroine of this tale learned her lesson in the end.

I sometimes tell people that being a writer is like being slightly insane (sometimes more insane than slightly). You hear your character's voices speak through you, you take on another new personality for every character you write. You become this factured, crazed human being constantly hearing voices that aren't your own echoing through your head, speaking to you, through you and being channeled onto paper. When I write, I become crazy. I speak in odd tongues. I cry. I scream. I talk to myself. I live my characters. I know what foods they like to eat, when they were kissed for the first time and how they like their eggs even if that factual information never appears on a page I write. They have to live in me first before I commit anything to paper.

For me, writing is physically exhausting and mental draining which is why I haven't done it for so long.. not since college.

But sometimes a story just weaves its way into your brain and you know sooner or later it has to come out. My stories usually begin with flashes. I see characters doing really ordinary things and I wonder to myself, why is this women during this and I find I have to build a story around it. The only story I've ever successfully completed began with a kissing scene. Back in 1997, I was walking along the beach and I was hit, like a tidal wave, by vivid imagery of a passionate kiss, but a kiss neither party wanted to happen nor wanted to end. And I thought, this an interesting concept... a kiss that shouldn't have happened, but one so strong it moved these characters to completely change the respective directions for their lives. For one character, it was in her first instinct to run. For the other, it was to sink back into a complacent life already prepared for her by proper society. And in my head, I knew... fuck, this story is going to haunt me. Part of me simply wanted to write it because I wanted to see these two characters together in the end. I finally finished the story in 1999 (or so) and to this date.. it's one of the more amazing things I've done. Just recently, I re-read bits of it and I had to stop a couple of times and say to myself "wait, did I really write this?" It seems this story was born someplace else and just filtered through me. I must have wrote it as a woman possessed by some greater force, the words pouring out of me like ink from a pen (to use a very appropriate metaphor).

If I never write another word in my entire life... if I remain a computer hack or designer or whatever... in my heart, I'll always be a writer... constantly haunted by visions that aren't my own, voices that aren't my own ... a history with no point of origin. I will forever be a woman possessed. Frightening... isn't it?

posted by runner | 12:11 AM

Wednesday, November 06, 2002
I forgot how much I love school. Is there a way I can get paid $35,000 a year just to do school work? I don't know what it is about learning that makes me feel ... whole. I'm in need of constant stimulation (okay.. that sounded really dirty). I should just really become a teacher (remember those who can, do.. those who can't... teach... and that describes me better than any other statement in the world).

I love learning just for learning sake. There's just something about discovering something new that gets my blood flowing. The same high people feel from running, doing drugs, having sex, making quilts or smoking... that's what I feel when I'm engaged in some sort of academic pursuit. Does this make me weird? Maybe I am just a uber geek supreme!? That's a rhetorical question...

posted by runner | 2:13 PM

Tuesday, November 05, 2002
I'm starting school today. I feel like I should be wearing knee-socks, sharpening pencils and eating peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches. Actually, it's a continuing education course at NYU. I've been out of the higher education loop for almost three years, so it will be interesting to see if I can get back into the groove. I don't think I've written grammatically correct English since 1999. Damn you message boards, and your flagrant misuse of the English language. If I like it, I've decided to go back semi-part time in the Spring... because god knows I don't have enough loan debt. I mean I'm already $10,000 in the hole... another $3,000 won't kill me. I can always fake my own death or change my name. :0)

I have to commit this to record. SARAH WATERS IS GOD ...it's official. She is my new favorite writer. I'm sure she could make instructions on a shampoo bottle interesting... and arousing (stroke. wet. repeat). I want to conceive a child with her (if that were medically possible). I would make blood sacrifices to her ... if it were legal. I plowed through 200 pages of Fingersmith yesterday alone and I'm counting the minutes as I write this where I can read her book again. I like when writers blow me away, while at the same time make me depressed for ever believing I could even be a writer.

posted by runner | 1:21 PM