Morning Frustration

My keyboard is dirty, and it bothers me.

I woke up to the loud squawking of a bird and the burden of bothersome thoughts. When the bird stopped making noise, I heard people conversing (quite loudly, I might add) on the sidewalk downstairs. I wonder if my walls (and the windows on them) are really that thin, or if people really just talk that loudly. Maybe it's a combination of both. I tried to make myself fall back asleep, considering that I hadn't even had six full hours yet, but then couldn't, because apparently, I'm stubborn against myself... Sigh. So here I am, blogging because I don't want to read and because I hope it will make me feel better by the time I'm done.

I must admit that I'm disappointed it isn't sunny and warm like it was yesterday. Although it was shockingly hot, it was a beautiful day. Yesterday, I woke up a lot earlier than anticipated because I had a nosebleed--first one in years--and after taking care of that and washing the blood stain off my pillow(case), I went back to sleep and woke up two hours later. Despite the way my morning started--with blood--I was happy upon waking up because I had left the curtains open just to see what it would be like to wake up to sunlight. It was glorious, beautiful, magnificent. I loved it. After lunch, I went to English discussion from 1 to 1:50, my only class of the day, where I saw a few familiar faces from last quarter's section. Right after that, I went to the gym and stayed for over an hour by myself! I ran two miles in 18:06 (it may not seem good to you, but it is to me, especially considering that I could hardly run one mile on Tuesday), did 90 sit-ups (should have just done 100...I don't remember why I didn't), rowed 2000 meters in under 15 minutes, worked out my legs, and lounged in the sauna. It was such a good workout. Maybe too good, because I walked SO SLOWLY back to my room after that. I stopped by the tennis center to watch the men's tennis match against Washington. The breeze was so nice! I suppose the game itself was okay, too. Then I went back to the room, and later went to dinner with J, before we both went home for the weekend.
I had my mother pick me up yesterday because I just felt like asking her to, and now that I've finally asked her to pick me up on a Friday evening, I can see how much it means to her--and how much it means to me. So we got home a little before eight for the family dinner my dad had promised, but S wasn't even home, and he didn't get home until almost nine. Subsequently, I had little time to actually enjoy the abalone that supposedly comes at $40 a piece. I went to Tapioca Express with N and then to Anna's place in Chinatown to hang out with her and Jessica, neither of whom I had seen in a long time. We just talked until about midnight, when J drove me back home. It was so nice to just talk. It always is. So, I'm glad I went there and glad we could have the time to catch up. It's comforting to know that no matter how much time has passed without seeing each other, some people can catch up just like that, as if no time had passed at all and no distance had ever intruded.

On Thursday, Joseph came to hang out with W and me, and we were supposed to go to Boiling Shrimp in Santa Monica, but long story short, we just ended up back at Westwood, eating at Gushi at 4:30 p.m. We got ice cream at Diddy Riese, then headed back to campus. Then, J, A and I went to watch "Limitless". Bradley Cooper is amazingly good-looking. Which made for an excellent movie. Just kidding, but he really is good-looking, and the movie really was good. It was exciting and intense, and at the end, a bit mind-boggling. Not to the same extent as "Inception", obviously, because that would have been crazy. My mind can't handle that much perplexity.

I have realized recently how awkwardly I accept "thank you"s. Usually, I don't like to be thanked by people I should be helping anyway, because what are friends for, right? I feel that I should be doing whatever I'm doing, but without being thanked for doing it because it's expected on my part. So, when J called me to thank me on Thursday night, there was a very long awkward moment of silence, because I hadn't even done anything except swipe for a clam chowder for him at the end of the day. But I felt the thank unnecessary because he had been driving all day anyway, and he was the one who drove all the way to school just to hang out with me. I suppose that, subconsciously, the clam chowder was my way to thanking him for having done that. But he really didn't have to thank me, because he came to me, and not the other way around, and even if I had gone to him, I wouldn't have expected a thanks, because we were supposed to hang out anyway. So, after the moment of awkward silence, I said, "No problem. Thank YOU for coming here." Despite my difficulty of accepting thanks, I give thanks often. Maybe too often? I'm not sure, but I try to thank people when necessary, or even when not necessary, and on the not rare occasion that I forget to thank somebody, I get really upset at myself. Gosh, I'm so weird. I don't know if this paragraph even made sense.
But you know what? THANK YOU for bearing with my nonsense and me.

Something else I have noticed I say too often: sorry. I say it when I bump into somebody, when I press the wrong button on the elevator, when I stand in somebody's way, when I do something wrong, when I DON'T do anything wrong... Over time, I have convinced myself that I say sorry just because 1) it's easier to say than "excuse me" and 2) I don't want whatever conflict there may be to prolong. So, if any of you remember my motto (DON'T SAY WHAT YOU DON'T MEAN), here's my contradiction of that. I say sorry even when I don't mean it just to achieve reason 2. Often, immediately after apologizing, I beat myself up about it, because I shouldn't just apologize for something I didn't do wrong. I should be standing up for my beliefs, for myself. But I give up truly expressing any of that just to lessen the burden or uneasy feelings on the other party. It's not fair to myself, I know, but that's just how I work. I'm such a pushover. Other people don't overpower me. I just let them, and they probably recognize the opportunity, so they go for it. On a different but very much related note, I'm sure you know how much one simple word can fix. Often, "sorry" marks the line between being friends again and forgetting friendship at all. However, it can also mean nothing at all. It depends on the context and way in which it is uttered, I suppose.

I want the sun to come out and shine its remarkable, warm rays down on me!



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