x d e l i g h t VRSN52 live, love, dream.

I haven’t actually been online shopping for months now (this is really weird for me) and haven’t even had the urge at all, honestly. But these are two very desirable items that I spotted recently:

Since the beginning of the school year, I resolved to forget about my reservations and just go for dressing both super girly and tomboyish whenever I felt like it, rather than opting for the in-between that I’ve usually stuck with. It feels really great. I wear dresses and skirts now whenever I feel like it (though I still don’t really like how inflexible they are and how complicated the simple act of sitting becomes), and I also wear T-shirts and Vans now whenever I feel like it. I’ve been trying to expand my wardrobe colors, too… Anyone who knows me knows that I usually just wear blue of a variety of different shades every day, but I’ve been expanding to green (and not just teal, of which I’ve always been fond) and purple and yellow and black and white.

While I certainly can’t handle dressing up every day like Sandia does, I do enjoy and value looking well-put-together — not for others’ benefit, but for my personal self-fulfillment. I know that I could look fashionable every day, but honestly… It’s too expensive and too much of a pain in the ass to maintain (not to mention often uncomfortable to wear fashionable things…such as flats, gah), and I’d rather spend my money on food, anyway.

mood: annoyed that my shoulders hurt but otherwise not bad
music: Love Lockdown – Kanye West

Saturday, September the 20th (…LOL, two months ago, yes), I went to an insurance class about what to do in case of an accident. The guy, who loves to talk, rambled on for ages about things both important and not-so-important. Actually, that’s incorrected; I suppose I should say he “loved”.

Jonathame, my insurance agent, in whose name I found endless amusement–which I happily shared with all of my friends–died last week. Just the other day, I had gone to visit him with Mother, to whom he had tried to convince to attend one of his classes. Just the other day, she had complained to me about how he always creeped her out because he liked to be in close proximity to people when he spoke, and to put a hand on their shoulder, pat their back, etc. And then here came the news of his passing; he died of pneumonia.

Life is so short.

Today, my Humanities teacher talked about how scary the external world is; any of us could be run over a truck on the way home. I’ve always been hyperaware of the fact, often morbidly imagining such scenarios, but Jonathame’s death brings me immense sadness. I think we often associate death with lifeless, suffering people; people who have no choice but to die. This man was so full of life that it was sickening; he was talkative, full of energy, and so damn animated that you just wanted to tie him down so that he would take a deep breath for a moment. It’s like this when you hear about the high school students who die, like Chuck Keith, for whom the street in front of University High is now named. You don’t have to know people like this to feel sad about their deaths, for you can just imagine the youthfulness and vigor of these types of people–and how it’s so…gone, now. They make me sad; these people who have their lives snatched away from them.

Anyway. Then, I went to the library to do research for my paper, whoo. That night, I took my sister out to Black Angus for dinner, which was fun. The food’s quality has greaty decreased, but the prawns were still really delicious. I barely touched the mashed potatoes, though, blegh. Soup was still delightful, as usual. Dinner was fun. We’ve been doing a lot of these since, and it’s been really nice. Sisterly bonding experience and all. It’s nice.

The following Friday, I took Jess to Mervyns, which is having a huge store closing sale. Just ended up buying a Jansport duffel bag that I adore; it was 50% off so only $30, yay! I used it when I went to CalSO, and I expect to use it when I visit Irvine after I go up north, yay. Don’t you love how I’m already planning my trips back? Ahaha.

After that, we went to the Grand Opening of 85C Bakery, which opened its first US store right here. Well, damn, haha. So I went to spy on the action, wearing sunglasses and all, LOL. Jess and I bought a shitload of goodies, except that they turned out to be not-so-good. I was kinda disappointed, but I guess any business that gets superly duperly commercialized like that ends up being not-so-great as it really could be (don’t get me wrong, I love Starbucks, but it really has lost that coffeshop feel!). You can read all about my unpleasant experience here. I was a very unsatisfied customer, haha. And usually I’m quite easy to please regarding food/restaurants!

One thing I do want to elaborate on is the demographic aspect of this town.

When I reflected on my experience, I realized that something else 85 C Bakery Cafe lacks is Americanism. Perhaps the owner is unaware, but while half of Irvine may be populated by Asians, most of them are English-speaking, Americanized Asians. Irvine is no Arcadia or Rowland Heights, where one can survive not knowing a single word of English. From the way they spoke and the way they didn’t put good service as a priority, I could tell that pretty much all of the workers were imported from Taiwan. This may work in other cities, but it’s just inefficient in Irvine, where almost all of the Asian kids speak English, where the non-Asian population loves to dabble in multicultural foods, where the majority of the population is pretty integrated into American society.

I dunno, I find this town really interesting in that aspect, and it’s a large part of why I love living here so much. When you walk around our mall, you see so many interracial couples, young and old. When you work in any kind of restaurant, you see so many interracial couples. I see a ton of them daily, because my family’s store is one with a crooked customer base–my mother seeks to serve food that white people will embrace, but my aunt is insistent on making the store a Chinese one. So a lot of what I call “halfie” couples enjoy our food: it’s an interesting medium, if anything. Another large portion of the demographic that enjoys our food is English-speaking Asians. Like, not Asians who can speak English, but Asians whose main language is English. Asians like me. Which I also find fascinating.

But anyway. The next day, I went to South Coast with Jess, which was fun. Got a bunch of warm clothes for Berkeley–well, relatively warm, anyway. A jacket, a 3/4 sleeve shirt (yes, I was just stretching the “warm” here, LOL), a cardigan, awesome bright yellow earrings, a very-me necklace. Oh yeah, I also went into the Abercrombie store for the first time–well, the kids one, anyway. For the past ten years of my life, ever since I started hearing about the brand, I’ve refused to go into the store, deciding that it would be awesome to fight mainstream, overpriced, overworn clothing. Also, that company has a horrible history regarding minorities, ranging from its plethora of white (naked) models, its racist shirts, its lack of white workers (despite that the brand is immensely, ridiculously popular among Asians… HMM), and its former status as a non-GLBT friendly store (it has only been GLBT-friendly for 3 years). You hear about this shit and you think it’s all lies, but just walk into an Abercrombie/Hollister store and look at its employees. The guy who gave me a fitting room was possibly the hottest white guy I’d seen in months. HMM. Yeah, so I decided that since I had turned 18, I should get out of that middle school funk and hatred of the mainstream. I bought two things but realized that it hasn’t really been about being in middle school. That kind of aversion has been part of me for a long time, and I predict that it’ll remain with me for a long, long time after my teenage years. Abercrombie has always been up there on my list with name brand bags, expensive shoes, and expensive jewelry–a fucking waste of money and ridiculous for people to desire. Meh. It’s just too bad that their clothes make me look so damn hot.

P.S. NaNoWriMo Word Count: 26,000, YAY!