new years resolutions

today as i was getting on the metro, an announcement came over the loudspeaker: "use of pyrotechnics is prohibited in Wenceslas Square."

so tonight should be interesting.

here are the new years resolutions:
1. this year i'm going to do more things that are not expected of me.
2. i'm going to make more "stupid" decisions. well, not that they're stupid, but maybe decisions that are more of a risk than those i'm accustomed to making.

i'm also going to try to give up coke.

stastny novy rok!

the patriots can go to hell

so, the new england patriots are 16-0.

i hate them.

i hate that they are a dynasty, and that everyone thinks they are one of the greatest teams in NFL history. i hate tom brady. i don't think he's all that good -- i think he got lucky to be on a strong team. i'd like to see what he could do with the miami dolphins.

remember the first year the patriots won the super bowl? when they played the oakland raiders in the snow, and they won that game mostly because of a bad call? i think it was fumble vs. forward pass. what if the call had gone the other way? our lives would be 100% better.

i might not really have the sports knowledge to argue that the patriots are not as good as everyone thinks they are. but i can say this: the patriots at 16-0 proves that the NFL is boring. most people think it's a good thing to have these dynasty teams, that it proves what an exceptional group of people have been behind the management and coaching of one club in the last decade or so. but i can guarantee you the only people who are REALLY excited about this live in new england, whatever states or cities make up that region (massachusetts, vermont, new hampshire...connecticut? does maine count? what about new york? rhode island? do they even get any input? i have no fucking clue). to everone else? they resent the hell out of it.

i honestly don't care if the steelers get nowhere in the playoffs this year. i just want the patriots to lose, embarassingly.

so, if it were the steelers winning three or four superbowls within a decade, yeah, i'd be whistling a different tune. this also proves that the "rules" of what makes football good change relative to whether they are happening to your favorite team or one of the other 31.

that being said, since the steelers are not the 00s patriots, i'm pissed that they are doing so well. it's boring and predictable. at the beginning of the season, everyone thought the patriots would be unstoppable. and they were. it's yet to be seen what will happen in the playoffs, but so far. i'm bored. if the patriots win the superbowl, this might be one of the most boring seasons ever.

wouldn't it be more interesting if there were a good story to this year's winning superbowl team? like, an underdog winning (like the sixth-seed steelers two years ago). i'd much rather see the packers win this year, so brett favre can finally retire. he deserves it. everyone thought he should quit years ago, and he didn't, because he loves the game. he deserves it. i hope the patriots and the packers meet in the superbowl this year and brett favre makes tom brady look like a 12 year old playing pickup football in the backyard with his older brothers on christmas.

that would be interesting. the patriots undefeated? lame.

it's been a long december

i missed yesterday. i didn't get a chance to get on the computer all day, except for exactly 9 minutes at globe yesterday, after a lively little exchange with the clerk in the bookstore (who i think is half of the guitar-comedy duo that performs at the globe's open mic night, but i can't be sure).

me: can i use the internet?
guy: i don't know, can you?
me: um. may i? is that what you're looking for?
guy: oh you know that one?

in a perfect word i would have responded "yeah, i've been to third grade." but much like george costanza, i often find the perfect witty, biting remark coming to me hours later.

anyway. i don't have anything interesting to say. we watched true lies last night.

a few months ago i asked my mom to send me some DVDs. i intended for her to send me DVDs i already owned, but instead she bought a few at wal mart. "there were a bunch there for only $5!" in the mix were match point, barefoot in the park and true lies.

i wasn't actually all that excited about watching it, but boy was i mistaken. what a great movie! i totally forgot about it. everyone was making fun of me as i squealed during the action scenes. but come on! there was a lot of dangling from unsteady perches hundreds of feet from the ground, which is one of my worst fears apparently for others as well as myself (second only to being chased up stairs, which also happened!).

we felt that james cameron was jipped by not being given an academy award for his directing. fuck titanic... true lies was amazing.

also, another thing i was thinking... whatever happened to the actor who played Sam on Clarissa Explains It All?

lastly, things i'm not excited for:
a. going back to work.
b. making new years resolutions.

ugh.

the smokiest bar in prague

last night i got a call from drew. i met her at the globe and after a few beers/glasses of wine and some dishing about our respective boy troubles, we decided to mosey elsewhere.

we ended up at u sudu, which i had to make a point this time to remember the name of because i usually can't. when drew asked if i had any idea of where to go, i described it as "that bar that we were at that one night, it's downstairs, looks like old catacombs, the really smoky one..."

eloquent, i know.

most bars in prague are smoky, but if you say to anyone "that really smoky bar," they'll probably know that you're talking about u sudu. it's amazing the amount of smoke in there. i've been there three or four times in recent weeks and every time i wake up the next day ill from the smell of smoke lingering in my hair, in clothes i wore and ones i didn't even have on, on the sheets and pillowcase and blanket. it soaks into your skin, you can taste it in your mouth. i swear, for an entire day after drinking at u sudu, a cloud of smoke follows you around like Pigpen.

so drew and i were having a good time by ourselves, just talking and drinking and whatnot, when a guy came up to us. he rattled off a long schpiel in Czech and i was delighted to be able to proudly exercise my only language skills and say "nemluvim cesky!"

but he got me. english? he asked.

he said something about his friend and himself wanting to sit with us, and that they were going to do a shot and they wanted to buy us one too, so what are you drinking? i'm not as graceful in these situations, so i looked to drew and she said confidently "sure! we'll both have a beer."

so these guys sat down and we talked for a while. the one that was talking to me asked "do you want to play soccer?" and by soccer he meant foosball. we played several games, of which i think drew and "vaclav" beat myself and "honza" (we managed to meet two guys with both of the most common names in prague). honza had some particularly excellent defensive skills, executing some backfield passing on a foosball table that my high school team could never master in real life. i was disappointed to learn that we weren't allowed to spin the handles as hard as we could, and thats just about where my foosball skills end.

it started to get a little creepy when vaclav kissed drew square on the mouth in a post-goal celebration, so we bounced.

i don't know if you noticed but i'm not good at conclusions. basically i woke up this morning drenched in smoke and feeling the several beers and shots of jager. those were the first honest to god czechs i've really talked to, and it was interesting to say the least.

some archives

i'm afraid of losing all the files on my hard drive, so i'm trying to put most of my writing here as a back up.

i just posted my senior seminar story. it's in May 2006 (i wrote it from January - April 2006). it's quite long but if you're interested, go for it.

i can't decide what i think of it now. i suppose it's not fair to retrospectively edit; but there are things i would change. there are also lots of things i still wouldn't.

it's called "the things we hold on to." i think only 3 people have ever read it.

the world by road

so i'm here at reporter's, again. christmas is officially over (yet, the christmas markets are still open... which i don't understand. close them already so i can walk from mustek to the post office without running into 157 people, milling around eating those sugary roll things and not paying attention to where they're going).

i feel pretty terrible because i've had 6 days of vacation so far and i've been just sitting around. having fun with the girls, of course, but feeling like i/we should have taken advantage of this time off to travel. some did -- lori to budapest, anna to the mountains, julie, amanda and marie to vienna -- but i just didn't get it together in time. i had wanted to go to italy, but after christmas shopping for myself, buying a new metro pass and filling my phone with credits, i've got about 400Kc leftover.

i've been in europe for almost 4 months and i've barely been anywhere. dresden and vienna for less than a day combined.

one advantage of staying in town was the opportunity to meet lori's friends, steve and steve. all of those stranded in prague for christmas gathered at drew/marie's apartment saturday night. lori had just returned from her trip to budapest and bratislava, which she embarked on with her friends from college -- the aformentioned steve and steve -- who are in the midst of travelling around the world.

i can easily say that every one of the people i've met so far while i've been abroad have opened me up to a new experience or worldview and whether very or maybe only a little different than mine, they've all been valuable. but these two blew my mind. they dropped everything -- quit very secure jobs, cashed in 401Ks, planned for two years -- and have been travelling now for almost a year.

and they're driving all of it. they started in LA, went through new zealand and australia and asia. lori met them as they entered eastern europe. they came through prague on the way to berlin to go through denmark, sweden and norway, back through london and eventually to africa. they still have about 10 months or so left to circumnavigate the globe latitudinally and longitudinally.

talking to them was fascinating. we couldn't stop asking them questions (that i'm sure they've heard a thousand times), but they were always willing to share their stories. they talked about catching dengay (sp?) fever, which causes internal hemorrhaging and at its worst makes you cough blood and bleed from your eyes. hat-of-child steve showed me a scar on his elbow from a cut he stitched himself. i can't remember all the things he told me, and that was only the tip of the iceberg.

it was pretty inspiring. they're smart guys but there's nothing unusual about their story other than they both were willing to do anything to have this experience. it made me feel pretty bad about never having left the united states until i was 23 and staying here in europe without taking advantage of the opportunity to travel.

i can't really put into words how cool it was to meet them and how amazing their story is. you can check out their trip on http://www.theworldbyroad.com. they have a blog and pictures, and you can meet up with them for a part of their journey.

some artsy-fartsy writer shit

i know what it's like to be close to someone without ever having kissed them; a different kind of closeness. the closeness you feel when someone takes your finger and traces the skyline of their bottom teeth. when they can tell you they don't change their underwear everyday. when you tell them things you've never told anyone, like fights you've had with best friends or things you've stolen or that you sucked your thumb until you were twenty.

i didn't tell you that yet.

but i haven't decided yet which kind of closeness is more dangerous; the sexual kind or the other kind. i don't know which kind is safer or which one is less likely to rip open old wounds.

ugh

dear audience,
i miss you. please come back.
Jen

simply having a wonderful christmastime

i want to write a blog today but i really don't have much to say.

i woke up later than usual, around 11, and figured i'd spend the whole day in bed. i was out late last night and i sort of didn't feel like getting dressed, going out in the cold, etc. my gameplan was to sleep and read all day.

i finished "the god of small things" by 1 o'clock or so and then got bored. i headed into town, hoping to find an internet cafe run by someone with very little christmas spirit (so it would actually be open). instead, i ended up at lori's. so we're internetting, possibly watching nip/tuck soon, and eating leftover carp and potato salad.

i never disliked christmas as much as i do this year. my dad always hated it and i could never understand why -- i knew the reason, that it was a holiday he used to celebrate with my mom and it only reminded him that they were divorced. he never bought into all the hoopla -- he hated having a real tree (if it was up to him we wouldn't have had one at all). he played along for a while, but after i reached high-school age, he stopped wanting to put the effort in and we were forced to settle for his compromise -- a three-foot artificial.

i remember senior year, BJ and i drove to the tree lot at the "pitt rent-a-center" and picked out a tree by ourselves. we bought it, strapped it to the roof of my old black cavalier, and put it up ourselves in the living room. we spent hours decorating it as my dad sat in the next room, uninterested. (i can remember every ornament. the gingerbread men, one for each of us -- mom, dad, bj and myself -- made by our family friend, the huge Coca Cola balls that, as a rule, went on the bottom branches because they were heavy, the stuffed animal Flounder from the Little Mermaid. there were so many more, and they're all broken now, water damaged or lost. the lights were the 140 set that played christmas songs and had 12 different blinking patterns.)

my brother would also be left in charge of putting up the outside twinkle lights.

being alone at christmas in prague has helped me understand a little better how my dad must have felt. it's a holiday that makes you appreciate all the good things you have -- family, love, wealth or comfort -- but also highlights the lack thereof. i never thought i'd feel sad about not seeing my family on christmas, or not having anyone special to spend it with. but when i woke up this morning, i didn't want to see anyone -- i just wanted to sleep the day away.

it's even worse because every single person i have encountered makes it seem like the saddest thing ever that i might be alone on christmas. students, friends. i couldn't understand what the big deal was, but now i think i do.

i think the saddest part of christmas is that it ends abruptly -- on the 26th it's over. weeks are spent shopping, decorating, planning, then its gone in a blink. you put away the stockings, the decorations. the lights come down. the tree is un-trimmed. the christmas dinner is now some scant leftovers packed into tupperware. wrapping paper discarded, greeting cards tucked away. on december 26th its like none of it happened. all that build up for one day and then its over.

christmas used to be one of my favorite holidays. i never thought i could be so pessimistic about it.

anyway, we had a great christmas, the six or so of us stranded alone in prague. we made the carp and turkey, got drunk and went to a casino. lori and i even stepped into midnight mass for a few minutes. i'm not a churchgoer but it was amazing. easily the most beautiful church i've ever seen in a country full of atheists. tonight we'll watch nip/tuck and eat leftovers.

tomorrow will be december 26th.

christmas eve

so tonight, for christmas eve, the girls got together to have dinner. lori made a turkey and i was in charge of the carp.

apparently the traditional meal in a czech christmas is carp and potato salad. i don't know why. so, being the testers of new culture that we are, we decided we should eat carp on christmas, too.

yesterday lori and i went to namesti miru to buy the carp. about 6 days before christmas, the carp stands turn up along the streets. it's amazing.

we walked up. a little timid at first, we stood around watching, hoping to see some other people order their carp so we'd know what to do. lori asked the "carp man" if he spoke english, and he didn't. so we decided we needed to ask for "jedna" or one, and if he asked us any other questions we were screwed.

we observed that someone would walk up and say something, then the guy would fish a carp out of a big bucket with a net. he'd throw it on a scale and then ask the person if it was big or small enough. so, we thought we could just say "okay" or maybe say "malo" which is pretty close to saying "small."

we tried that, but he started asking us questions in czech that we couldn't answer. we gave him a thumbs up and a "dobre" to okay the size of the fish, but then we got stuck. luckily, a red-headed lady behind us in line spoke some english. otherwise i think the guy was ready to hand us a live fish. she told him to kill it and gut it.

it was disgusting. maybe i'm just not used to seeing it. a little girl, maybe four years old, was with her father and she seemed to be loving it. she kept leaning over the bucket, trying to touch the live fish. she didn't seem phased at all by the three guys less than five feet away who were chopping the heads off of those same fish.

so they take a fish, weigh it, then the guy promptly kills it by severing its spinal cord (i think?). then he cuts its head off. when we first got there, four heads were sitting on the butchering platform and one was still "breathing," or i guess its gills were gasping for water. this guy was laughing as he chopped off the fishes head. they seemed to take their jobs lightly; five minutes before they were butchering our fish, elbow deep in blood and guts, all three of the fishmongers were chowing down on sandwiches.

they handed back our change, crowns covered in fish blood and guts, and a bag of insides and the fish head. cleaning, skinning and cutting up that fish tonight was one of the toughest things i've done for a meal in my life. it's pretty cool to know what it feels like to actually work for a meal instead of only having it slapped down in front of you.

we've proudly displayed our carp head, named "vaclav," on lori and anna's dining room table.

the white t-shirt roadtrip and other travel plans

everytime i look around my room, i'm disgusted at myself for bringing so many clothes with me. i brought two huge suitcases and a carry on and another big bag, and there is no reason for it. i hardly wear any of it. up until last week, most of it had been dirty since september.

i'm a packrat. i love keeping stuff, but i love keeping it so that someday i can throw it away. nothing feels better than shoving stuff into a trash bag. so, i think it would be equally liberating to travel with hardly anything. instead of lugging three giant suitcases around prague -- through the airport, into a transport van, up the fucking stairs at the villa, into a taxi, up 5 floors in our new place -- wouldn't it be awesome to just have one?

so the next time i travel i'm travelling light as possible. when i get back to the states, whenever that will be, the next big trip i want to take is another cross-country roadtrip. i was just looking at pictures from the trip i took with brendan to LA in june 2006, and it made me want to do it again. i want to take the northern route out to seattle, come down the west coast, then take the southern route through new mexico, arizona, texas, etc. then back up the east coast.

i want someone or several people to come with me, but the only rule is: you can only bring one backpack. you can only bring an extra pair of shoes and jeans, a thicker layer (sweatshirt or long-sleeved t-shirt, maybe a jacket if its cold but this would ideally take place in the summer), underwear obviously, and a pack of plain white t-shirts*. that's it!

everytime i've travelled i overpack and i always think "oh, i'll want to wear all these things..." but i never actually want them. i always end up wearing jeans and a t-shirt. and it's better that way, because who cares.

my other travel plans are: the trans-siberian railway. from january on i'm saving money so i can go in july.

let me know if you want to join me.




*piece of advice: if you ever find yourself in the men's department in target/walmart/your respective discount department store, purchasing your plain white t's, and you're trying to decide between the five-pack of Hanes or Fruit of the Loom, always buy Hanes! I've made this mistake one too many times.

saturday, bored.

i spent the whole day inside. i woke up at 10, read a little, ate some soup for lunch, sat around some more, took a nap, took a shower. you cannot imagine how boring it is to be alone in a strange city with no internet, tv, or way to watch movies. i guess i could go out and "do something" but its really cold, and i kinda don't feel like it. it's the first day of christmas break, which i think is suitable only for loafing around. but i couldn't stand being inside anymore so i went to use the internet.

so i'm sitting in this little cafe, called reporter's, that's nextdoor to my apartment. it just opened maybe two weeks ago. it's pretty cool inside, but i don't think anyone knows about it because i'm always the only one in here. the barkeep speaks english a little, so basically the two of us just sit in silence while i use the internet and he texts on his phone or reads. he usually puts music on. (today, i think the same song played for 20 minutes). it's the kind of situation where you would usually talk with the other person or else it would be super awkward, but its not for us, because we do not share a common language. so we both mind our own business, which is nice.

today, however, i'm not alone at reporter's. i'd been here for 45 minutes or so by myself, and then this older gentlemen came in. i've never seen anyone else come in that didn't know the person working at the time, so i assume that the only other patrons are friends of the business. he started speaking to the barkeep. after a while, though, the barkeep stopped listening. he came back over and sat at the computer like he usually does while this guy kept yapping away -- which leads me to believe this guy is a crazy drunk.

the guy kept talking at him, and he'd answer occasionally, sometimes even walking over to the bar to chat.
sidebar: that song that played for 20 minutes earlier just started again! he must love it.
anyway, so the guy kept talking and then started motioning to me. he said something to the barkeep, who replied in czech "she speaks english."

then the weird guy went: "anglicky! anglicky! you speak english?" to me. i said yes. he said "so you are english?" and i said "no, i'm from the united states."

"oh!! the united states! so, ac/dc and judas priest!"

i pretended i couldn't understand him, but he definitely asked me something about ad/dc and judas priest. presumably he wanted to say that he either knew they were american bands (and actually i think ad/dc are from australia, right?) or that they were bands he thought i'd like.

i just sorta shrugged. he made a motion like "oh, nevermind." then just kept yapping away.

so, two other guys just came in, and they all seem to know each other. i'm kinda nervous and actually really, really glad i can't speak czech, because i can just sit here and eavesdrop on them.

i'm so bored.

pitt basketball memories!

yesterday, i learned how to use titles. i couldn't figure it out. turns out you have to turn them on...
i'm smart.

pitt beat duke!

i don't know about everyone at pitt, but is this the "same old, same old" story - where pitt does really well in the preseason, only to disappoint in the tournament - or is this year different? i want to say beating duke is a pretty big deal, regardless if it was only by one point in overtime. i haven't seen any pitt games this season, so they could be playing like shit for all i know.

i guess there's always a year when a team surprises you. sometimes it takes 15 years (and counting - for the pirates), but pitt has been strong for ...what... 5 or 6 seasons now?

it seems like every year has been marked by some sort of failure instead of triumph. i can still remember freshman or sophomore year (not sure -- i guess i can't remember that well after all), donatas zavakis whining on the sideline as pitt lost prematurely in the tournament. i think they got to the sweet sixteen? who knows.

remember when yuri demetris punched his girlfriend in the face? i wonder whatever happened to him.

chris taft looked like snoop dog and/or plaxico burress.

carl krauser was never as good as brandin knight.

2 years ago, the scoreboard on the TV during pitt's matchup with bradley in the second round read "BRAD PITT."
haha.

i hope this is the year for pitt basketball. jamie dixon deserves it, if nothing else. i'd be kinda sad to miss it because campus will be out of control. go pitt!

prague public transportation awards

i don't ride the metro much anymore. mostly just the green line. but the best thing about riding the metro (other than metro surfing) is seeing the signs on the wall that identify the metro stop. some of them are really cool, and some of them are downright ugly.

i've decided to rank them.
best: hloubetin on the yellow line. i've always been a sucker for the yellow-green-blue color combination. also noteworthy, cerny most is a boring stop (color-wise), but the coolest thing ever is seeing the scenery go by through the tinted windows that enclose the tracks after it comes up from underground.

runner up: namesti miru/JZP. mustek is okay, but the green-yellow is a little bit of a cop-out, considering those are the colors of the lines that intersect there.

honorable mention: namesti republiky (chrome!) and starometska.

worst: almost all of the stops on the red line are boring. they all look the same. so take your pick.

this is an ongoing project because i've yet to see every stop. also, my next project is "best tram line." there will also be a category for "most difficult line to tram surf" and "line that could use more frequent trams."

stay tuned.

"if you lose your mind, come back."

i was just looking at pictures from my last "american vacation," when jocelyn and i went to DC to visit brad and ngav.

it was the middle of august. oppressive heat. we were in the adams morgan area of DC at dan's cafe, my favorite completely irresponsible place to drink in our nation's capital. if you aren't familiar (which is a shame), it's situated in a dirty basement. it's tiny and always crowded. it smells like a zoo. the bartenders are grumpy. best of all, the drinks: if you unsuspectingly ask for a "rum and coke," for $11 the pile-of-sunshine barkeep hands you a glass (probably somewhere in the ballpark of 8oz) of rum, a can of coke, and a bucket of ice. basically... a shitshow ensues.

you and your party end up completely wasted, but it's also a place that's pretty conducive to meeting new people. somewhere between my "gin and tonic" and falling asleep on the metro, brad, jocelyn and i befriended some guys and one girl who were standing near our table. i believe the events unfolded thusly:

jocelyn got up to go to the bathroom. i couldn't hear what they were saying, but a group of three guys started talking to her. she came back to our table and told us about it, saying they were being kinda creepy. i suppose i thought it wise to give them a piece of my mind. the one guy came over and this is the conversation we had:

me: "you're a creep!"
guy: "what? why?"
me: "you touched my friend!"
guy: "i just wanted to dance!"

(note: there is no dance floor at dan's)

i guess instead of haranguing (i think i spelled that wrong but unfortunately my dictionary is being held hostage :P ) them, we were at that point of drunkenness where you suddenly become best friends with strangers instead of trying to fight them (lucky for brad). so these guys just sat right down at our table, and we talked about who knows what... (i think they made fun of brad's magazine and pointed at jocelyn's boobs a lot).

anyway the whole point of this story is that i never managed to catch their names, but i remember the words on the back of the one guy's shirt, and they were: "if you lose your mind, come back." i don't remember what was on the front of his shirt, but i assumed it was some band, probably dave matthews or something.

i did some intense research (googled it) and found out it's a buddhist saying.

i didn't find much interpretation, and on the first read it didn't really make sense to me. but i suppose it means if you find yourself feeling lost, all you have to do is simply come back. and because the solution is so simple, maybe it means that you weren't really lost in the first place. you're looking for answers and getting lost, but maybe you knew the answers all along.

maybe i'm looking at it the wrong way, but it doesn't really matter, does it? it's what you make of it. strange what you remember when you've had an entire glass of liquor.

i don't have much to say today. i've been thinking a lot lately that i really wish i had my guitar here. in retrospect, i could have easily left an entire suitcase of clothes at home and brought my guitar instead. i might try to find a cheap used one somewhere, just to play while i'm here.

i barely touched it last year, which i regret. i wish i could learn to have a better work ethic about things. i don't have any talents. there are so many things i "want" to be good at, but i'm just not a hard enough worker. i think i expect to be good at things without effort, and if i'm not, i get frustrated and give up. obviously this is a negative quality to have if you want to be successful at something.

i have so much time here that i waste. maybe if i had my guitar, and it was the only thing i had left to do, i'd practice.

actually... probably not. i'd probably still take naps.

two days in a row.. holler at yer boy.

ever since i've been teaching english, i notice language a lot more. i think about it all day. it's a little bit odd, but mostly i love it. i spend a lot of time trying to figure out what words mean in czech. we were drilled so much about "teacher language" that everytime i talk to someone i'm wondering if i'm talking clearly and simply enough for them to understand what i'm saying (even native speakers). i've learned a lot of british english, which is cool because even though its mostly the same language, we use it completely differently. i never thought it would be so hard to talk to someone from england. basically, language is on my mind all the time and it's great. my mind is always occupied with thinking about something i love. it's kind of like getting paid to think about your girlfriend or boyfriend all day, and then at some points of the day, talk about them with other people for 60-90 minutes.

uso i've been noticing things i wouldn't have before. today i was listening to my ipod on the tram on the way to class. the song was "playing favorites" by the starting line, which is quite a nice song actually. there's a verse that goes like this:

"wait for me to move out west/
it's okay if you don't/
i hope you know you're my favorite thing about the west coast/
i wish i stayed/
i hope you wait/
i'm counting down the days til california comes"

lovely. but i started thinking about the phrase "move out west," and i realized that i've never heard anyone say "move out east." more often you'll hear "move back east." and i've never heard anyone say "move back west." you always move back to the east and out to the west. obviously you COULD say whatever you want, but i think it's kinda neat that for the most part, the... i don't know what you'd call those...directional prepositions?...(back and out)... follow the pattern of "manifest destiny" ...in america we settled in the east first then went west later. i mean i'm sure there's californians that move east... but do they ever say "move out east?" it seems like the pacific coast is usually the endpoint, and from there you can only go back.

that might seem ridiculous but these are the kinds of things i think about all day. jealous? no? okay...

my philosophy on advice is that if i were asking for it, i would want to hear the blunt truth. i want to hear what i might know is true but don't want to admit to myself. someone has to be the voice of reason and it's not usually the person asking for advice, or they wouldn't be asking for it.

it's pretty odd to be in a situation that is almost exactly like one that you gave someone else advice about before. you're suddenly like... shit... now i have to follow my own advice.

a few years back, one of my friends (no names to protect the innocent) was lamenting having to leave someone she had met while studying abroad. she was saying that she felt that the things she shared with this person didn't really mean anything because he had gone back home, to his girlfriend, and she was sure she'd never see him again.

i gave her my best attempt at being a wise and insightful friend and i told her that she should be really happy that she got the three months that she did. she could always look back on those three months and remember them fondly. she could remember that this person had a really deep affection for her, even if it wasn't quite manifest in the way it she wanted it to be. and that it doesn't mean any less just because it's in the past tense instead of the present.

so, to me, even though this thing i said to her sounded really idealistic, it also sounded like "the right answer," even if that's hard to follow. really i just wanted to her not to be sad about something she couldn't change.

that being said, i realize now how completely unfollowable that advice was.

this isn't something you can actually do. you can't turn off your feelings for something and transform it into a pleasant memory in a split second. eventually... but after some time. i realize that i was telling her this advice thinking "don't be sad! you have these three months of memories, don't be sad about them, be happy. turn it on like a switch." which is completely crazy. no one can do that.

so i know what i need to do. i've put myself back to two years ago and i'm listening to myself give this advice and telling myself to follow it. but i know exactly why she thought about it feeling meaningless.

this friend wrote this really wonderful story for one of her nonfiction classes about how this guy lived a life she described as transient -- he had no qualms about moving from one part of his life to another, just picking up and leaving everything behind to start something new. he would look at his experience abroad the way that she wished she could. like a great time in his life that's over.

i can't remember the moral of her story, if her prose decided this was an ideal way to live or a sad way. i sort of wish i could be that kind of person, but i know that i'm not and i probably never will be. i don't have the capability of remembering things without placing myself back at that time; it's only one place or the other, now or then, and it's usually then. i was actually just thinking about how often i do that; sit and look at pictures or think about things i've done and wish i was back at those times rather than right now.

i understand why people become writers or musicians or artists or photographers or filmmakers. you want to cement something into the present tense that otherwise would disappear into the past, into memory.

i've never been good at taking my own advice, but then again i don't know if that's true of anyone. i suppose you can either waste your time being sad or just decide to be happy, i just don't know how possible the latter is.

i recently learned the term "gutted" and at first i thought it just meant sad, but now i think it's a little bit more than that. i actually feel like i've been gutted, hollow, i feel like i don't have insides. but maybe you need to feel that way first to make the memories move vivid. like a chrysalis for memories... i don't know.

i'm not sure if i really got at what i'm trying to get at with this.