The weather is freaky today. We are having record high temperatures in the high 90's and 100's, plus that eerie Santa Ana winds. On top of that, massive fires in the hills. The atmosphere is a very browny color. It seems like I am wearing sunglasses tinted light brown. Ashes fall from the sky like grey snow speckles. It's not as beautiful as it sounds. Pardon my sarcasm. With the massive amounts of the ice polar caps melting, it's just what we need. As I look out my window from work, I see my normal daily view, only it's tinted khaki.

On days like this when the customers are *extra* bitchy and naggy, when it is very hot and time goes by slower than usual, I spend the entire day just counting down. I divide my work day into two chunks. The morning, and afternoon, which is separated by lunch, which usually takes place around 1-2 PM. In the AM, I check e-mails, return any phone calls, make phone calls, reading the news, update myself on new promotions, and have a nice cup of coffee(I wish I could add some *extra* caffeine when I have those *extra* bitchy customers). I try to keep myself busy, because before I know it, it's lunch time. By the time I finish comtemplating what to eat, then eat it, it's about 2-3PM. Then I start counting down. For example, right know, it's about 2:40 PM. I just finished my lunch. I now know that there's only 4 hours and 20 minutes left for work. When I finish updating this entry and check my e-mails (all 83 addresses.. LoL), there would be less than 4 hours left for work. I'll probably open up a can of vanilla coke, and get started on some paperwork I have to do, and that should take me a good two hours (I'll be interrupted frequently by those *extra* bitchy customers, no doubt). Then I'll just have two hours left for work. I'll spend the next two hours reading, possibly doing research and browsing the web for personal purposes (e.g. researching prerequisites for transfer programs at various universities, conduct my business on eBay, etc..). Speaking of eBay, my income from eBay will be approximately $50 this month. That's less than half of how much I usually make, but I have run out of things to sell, and also have gotten quite lazy. But that's a whole another issue.

I am very very very very hating my job these days. The regular customers long ago became bitchy customers, bitchy customers have become *extra* bitchy customers, and the *extra* bitchy customers have become *ultra* bitchy customers. Therefore, I have to raise the Customer threat level warnings to "High" or "Orange" -- High risk of Customer attacks. I hope I get to quit before it hits "Red" -- Severe risk of *ultra* bitchy customer attack.

I have found that if you love life, life will love you back.
-Arthur Rubinstein

I copied and pasted the above quote from Arthur Rubinstein, because it is so simply and beautifully well put. I love life with a passion -- I am waiting on life to reciprocate that in return.

I was trying to enjoy my mom's fantastic fabulous bi-bim-bop. Her talent for cooking is almost unnatural -- no food prepared by human could taste so brilliant. I told her today that she must have sold her soul to the devil for her cooking ability (in Korean) but it didn't get across too well. She responded with something about better to have sold it for the lottery or something. Anyways. it creates a genuine "melts in your mouth" feel. Right now, however, I am not able to bask in the superb ethereal delights of my lunch, because of an impostor. Well, not an imposter as much as a visitor -- but impostor is such a cool word to use. It's a very vibrant word!

Before I stray from the topic at hand, I have a visitor. He is black, and much larger than his peers. He makes my cat nervous. Frankly, he makes my whole family nervous because of his grandiose appearance. Enter, Mr. Fly. He's not one of those fruit-fly types, that are wimpy black dots with wings. He has character. His buzzing would scare an Afracanized killer bee. Read: Very Very loud. It makes my shoulders rise up to my ears, making my face cringe.

My brother has a minor phobia of flies. I think it was caused by the time we were chasing after a rather large fly (we were in elementary school... he must have been no older than 7). We hit it mid-swing, and he fell.

Do not read beyond this point if you are eating, have eaten recently, or plans to do so in near future.

The fly fell to the ground, and we gathered around him to take a closer look, to confirm his time of death. The fly twitched several times for what it seemed like hours, and the black skin of his back cracked open, and these white creatures began to ooze out of his back. I assume they were maggots, but it was very very odd. About 7-8 maggot-like white wormy creatures finally made an exodus out of the fly, which now looked as though the maggots were wearing a fly suit or something -- perhaps trying to disguise themselves as a fly. My brother and I were very surprised and frightened out of our minds, and just left them there. When we returned, the white creatures were gone -- vanished.

So that's my brother's phobia. I don't particularly enjoy the company of flies, but I can generally carry on with daily activities even in the presence of one. My brother cannot. He was napping when he heard the unmistakeable buzzing zoom by his nose. He grunted loudly, "is there a fly in here?" I answered, "the cat's on it!"

Enter Miss Kitty. My cat, Nabee, has the poise of what can only be explained by being of royal heritage. Possibly of a mixed breed, although I catagorized her as being a "snowshoe." Snowshoe is an actual breed of cats, characterized by blue eyes, dark brown tail and ears, a creamy cappucino body, and white feet. She's regal and brutally honest.

Her blue eyes are darting back and forth following the Mr. Fly. It won't be long before he is under her snow-white paw, buzzing for forgiveness. Nabee tolerates no intruders. She will terminate him mercilessly, as she frequently does many pestilent visitors. Mr. Fly should be thankful Nabee doesn't have wings -- that just extended the game time another half an hour. We'll have to see how long it will be before Nabee declares victory.

Never a dull moment around this household, I tell you!

Mr. Fly's portraits:
While it looks like he's inside some sort of cave, it's actually my ceiling. It's the only place Nabee can't attack... Here's Nabee, during her daily sun bathing:

Today's weather: Scorching hot, with extra smog on the side!

The sudden heat and dryness in the weather has caused multiple fires in the Burbank and Fontana areas. That's the extra smog. I was driving on the 210 freeway from Pasadena, which is up on a hill, and as I looked downhill, it was beautiful. It was the epitome of the "crystal clear" weather we so frequently have in Southern California. Then my view shifted towards downtown Los Angeles -- you can see a few humble mini-skyscrapers (I used to think they were pretty tall buildings, but after a visit to downtown Chicago, I changed my mind). The buildings were drowning in smog. It was a brownish grey. Although I don't see it now (I am at work in LA) I know I'm breathing it. Because of the MTA workers going on strike, with the grocery store workers, traffic's been much heavier, which only adds onto the "extra smog on the side."

I have decided to drop the calculus class. Not only was I not doing well, it was sucking the life out of me. It was a hard decision to make, and I am sorry it had to come down to this. I am not a quitter by nature. In fact, I am a challenger. I take on things just to prove that I can do it. I realize that I have failed. First, as an international student, tuition is approx $150 per unit. Calculus is a 5 unit class. I lost out on a lot of money, and will now have a "W" grade to deal with. I spent a lot of time in class and studying outside of class. It was either to sacrifice all of it and attempt to restore my life in order again, or to stick with it for a measly "C" at best. I hope I made the right choice. Since history and sociology are extremely easy classes, and I am betting that speech 101 is also(which starts next week), it leaves me more time for bonding with the telly. Too bad I don't have cable.

Pirates of the Carribean. What can I say. It was a fantastic movie... Johnny Depp is marvelous. I love Mr. Depp because he is a passionate actor. He truly becomes the character. I could never imagine anyone else playing Jack Sparrow but Depp. I mean, imagine Tom Cruise. Or Richard Gere. Heath Ledger? No, no, and no. I haven't seen a whole lot of Depp's films, but those I have seen, I have a very positive regard for them. Edward Scissorhands comes to mind. How can a country boy from the midwest become such a great performer? Edward Scissorhands was in 1990, when I was in the 5th grade. Depp in 1990, and Depp in 2003 have no difference. He is ageless. His passion for acting makes him whatever age his character is. I rarely see movie in theaters anymore. At the rate they are hiking up movie ticket costs, I'd rather save it up and see a live performance.

I know I am wandering off, but I can recall vividly the night I saw "Rent."(Westcoast productions) The lead was played by Neil Patrick Harris, the guy who used to be the famous "Doogie Howser" -- child MD. I always wanted to get into the health profession, but Rent enveloped me with the genuine interest to help those with HIV and AIDS. If you haven't seen this, you are seriously missing out. Great, great, great. I also saw Phantom of the Opera at the Phantages theatre in Hollywood. This one is a definite classic. It's like the intro to musical/broadway 101. If anyone visits the Los Angeles area, you should check out Phantages theatre, and the Ahmanson. If you have time for just one, definitely the Ahmanson. It's connected with the Dorothy Chamber Pavilion, and they have the most beautiful fountains. It's in downtown Los Angeles, generally not a great neighborhood, especially at night (a haven for ravers though), but when you're there, you'd think you were in some place fancy, like Times Square in Manhattan. Is Times Square in Manhattan? Having never even been in the proximity of the East coast, I wouldn't know. But movies always depict it as a bright place filled with lights and happy people. Something like that. People actually come dressed to kill for these shows. I always went in a humble skirt and buttonup shirts, but some people arrive in Limos, looking like they were on the red carpet. That's the good life for ya. Well, I must get back to my telly. I am missing quality TV time!

I have a complex. Not complex carbohydrates or anything like that. Kind of like the Oedipus complex, but nothing that gross. I have to say that when I tell people about my "complex" they laugh and don't take me seriously. As though I were a child. As though it was nothing. Well, it is something to me. During high school, I was one of the top students. Not just a straight-A student, but the kind that gets special acknowledgement. My high school campus consisted of 3000 or so students. Almost all of them knew who I was. I was the smart girl. I had the most AP classes, passed all of the AP exams, did well enough on the SAT and SAT II. (I probably wrote of this millions of times by now.) When application time rolled around, I had the audacity to apply to only 5 schools. I applied to Stanford, just to see if I could get in. I applied to UC Berkeley, which has always been my first choice out of any school that existed. I applied to UCLA as a backup to UC Berkeley, and Cal state Northridge as a back up for the backup. I also applied to USC because my uncle told me if my cousin(from Texas) should attend USC, he would pay me to go there with her. Although not an option I liked, nevertheless, it was just an option. So those five. My peers applied to about 10 schools on average. UCI, UC Davis, UCSD, other cal state, and some even to more prestigious places like Yale, Harvard and the rest. I didn't care much for Harvard or Yale -- I wouldn't go if they accepted me. But long story short, I got rejected to all the public schools, because I was an international student, and public schools are obligated to accept a high percentage of tax-payers. I got a letter of acceptance from Stanford, but I could not pay it's outrageous tuition of one Mercedes C-class/year. USC rejected me because I didn't have the equivalence of a Mercedes C-class in my bank account. My cousin went on to Boston University, and I was out of luck. One of my closest friends went to Yale. Another to UCLA. I had no where to go. For months and years after those days, my class mates and whoever knew me asked where I went to college. They assumed I'd be at a great institution covered by ivy. Ever since those days, I have been just so ashamed and embarrased that I virtually kept no contact with high school friends and acquaintances.

Zapping to October of 2003, I am getting over this thing. I realize I made some mistakes and had some bad lucks, but I will prevail because I am a strong individual. It's easier said than done of course, so the situation is still a work in progress. Tonight, I went to work out, and saw a girl I knew way back then. She is a year younger than yours truly, and I do remember being on rather friendly terms before. She jumped on the treadmill next to mine, and I kind of sensed that she was trying to get my attention so she can say hello. Thankfully, I had earphones on with Evanescence playing, so I pretended not to notice, and pretended to be so immersed in my workout. I finished my mile, and jumped off the treadmill as though I was very winded and left, although I normally do about 2.5 miles. I cut my workout short because I was afraid to say hello to someone I already know, who was willing to say hi first? Yes, I definitely have issues. When I am driving without the music on, I start thinking and thinking and my mind starts drifting and sometimes over-analizing myself, and I realize that it's really about time I see a shrink. Seeing a "therapist" is trendy these days, and goes hand in hand with yoga. However, unlike yoga and pilates, seeing a therapist costs a lot more money. I'll have to make a mental note to take it up as soon as I strike rich. Maybe, if I pretend to be homeless, I can commit myself in some sort of public institution. Would that be too much like Girl Interrupted? Hm.. I'll have to think about that one.

What are blogs?

Yahoo states in their article defining the blog, or weblog phenomenon,

"Weblogs and online journals are often confused, and they can frequently overlap in content and style. But purists point out that a person writing in an online journal or diary is logging their life, not the Web. Weblogs still exist to log what's going on around the World Wide Web."

I am puzzled... so this thing that I am writing... is actually just an online journal, but not a weblog/blog? Hm.

I finished the newest book of J.K. Rowling: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I have read all in the series, and they are a fantastic set of books to read, no matter what your age is! I originally started the whole thing to see what all the hype was about, but I, too, got swept up in the hype itself. Before long, I was tormented by the delaying of the fifth book's arrival... After gobbling up the last book, I feel somewhat satiated, enough to wait patiently for the next book... at least for the moment. I actually got a pretty late start on the fifth books... it's been months since it came out. The outrageously high cost of the book has deprived me of my needs -- even the library's copies were always out. Those who haven't read the books and merely watched the movies with their children/nieces and nephews cannot even begin to understand this madness with the Harry Potter series. I am 23 years old, and even at my age, it was an excellent read.

While I was waiting for an opportunity to grab a copy of the new Harry Potter, I also tried to get my grubby lil' hands on Hilary Clinton's Living History. Also a hard to find book if you are very very poor. I'm sure it is a fascinating read also... I guess I will have to wait until the paperbacks arrive. It also made me recall a line from Legally Blonde(the first one). Warren tells Elle that if he wants to be a senator, he needs to marry a Jackie, not a Marilyn. Perhaps we still do live in a world that is based upon images and not the important.

Although I tend to side a bit with the republicans, I like Hilary. However, I feel very sorry for her. She may have a great career, and undoubtedly she is doing something she loves. But at what cost? Bill is a horrible horrible man. If a man cannot be faithful to his own wife, how can he be faithful to his country? Some say that it is part of a personal life that should be protected by privacy. While I agree, I also have to say that what he has done reflects on his character and integrity in a negative light. He cheated; with an intern, no less, and then lied, and when he was found to be lying, then he apologized. I still cannot believe that the man who is possibly the most powerful in the world would do such a thing, especially given the position that he was in. That shows that he had no respect for his position. You are a leader! You are a person that kids look up to and tell their parents that they want to be president when they grow up. A person in such position is bound to be criticized and booed at by the opposing group... You need to defy that. Pull out the charisma and show people your strengths. Pull them together and make them follow as a whole nation. Don't be some Joe Schmoe white trailer trash. I am sorry to say that this country has had more than its share of red-necks as leaders. Pretty good sax player though.

I see that my Harry Potter book review has taken a wrong turn. Well, at least I am blogging more often these days... I remember leaving my blog stranded for days! That was very very bad of me... Well, gotta get back to work... cell phones don't sell itself!

I had an enlightening week. It's hard to describe the way I was enlightened -- perhaps... that it was as though I was in a cacoon all this time, and finally busted out of it, seeing sunlight for the first time. Have you ever recalled the time you first saw sunlight? Not just absorb it through the rods and cones of the back of your eyes, but to actually stand still for a moment and appreciate it? After all, it is a direct source that supports all living things on this planet. These days, it is really rare to acknowledge and appreciate light... even though one of the first major quotes from the bible is "Let there be light." These days we are surrounded by cubicles, lighted by fluorescent lighting... yes, cost efficient fluorescent light bulbs. By the time we get that corner office with those large windows, we're in our fifties and sixties... even if lucky, at mid to late forties. Appreciating the concept of "let there be light" apart from all its biblical sense, is something that should be done at a younger age. The process should be started as early as possible. I, for one, had the opportunity of being enlightened by the sun. Each time I have these type of experiences, I am refreshed, with a sense of being renewed. As though I were born again, but reborn with the learnings that I previously had. I am wiser, yet I recognize that there are an exponentially growing amount of knowledge that I have yet to have obtained; it is a true blessing. So when you get that chance, sit out on the sidewalk or on a bench at a park, oh, say about 10:30 AM. See the sunlight as it is scattered by the leaves on the maple tree. Appreciate its majestic aura, its magnificent rays! Look up at the fully lit blue sky, and the few birds that fly across. Allow yourself to feel small. For once, the world does not revolve around your little, miniscule list of things to do, or goals or dreams. You revolve around it. You are just a speck of dust in the universe, and likewise, into dust you will be, when you die.

Allow myself to be clear: I have been immersed by various anxieties. I have recently applied to a nursing program, and I am waiting to hear from them (sometime in November). I have a visa situation -- the BCIS(bureau of citizenship and immigration services) is a bitch on PMS. Daily struggles at work, finding time to study for calculus among other courses, and also trying to lose weight and keep up with the daily reading of the news, have left me tired and angry. All this shit to deal with. And yes, I did just end that fragmented-not-a-complete-sentence with a preposition. I try to balance my unhappy things with the happiness of my new digital camera, and my hopes that somehow things will be ameliorated and made better -- because that has to be the course of the universe. But no. It's not. The book of Job tells a nice story -- and how does that end? God bitch-slaps him. Likewise, my tribulations are not charted by the course of the universe. I am not carrying a cross to save mankind; my decisions and my life events do not alter the universe's path. I am small. I am infinitely, no, infinitesimally, small. The sunlight is a much greater entity than I am. While this may seem all like a good lot of big phooey to someone who hasn't been enlightened, I urge you to go outside and sit, and marvel at the outrageous number of photons the sunshine is scattering. See a single ant crawling, obviously in a hurry to get somewhere. Maybe you'll understand me. Then again, you may not.

This page will be moved to... http://daisylee.blogspot.com ... I will be completing the move today!!