On Parents

Oh I am livid.

Well, I don't know if livid will cover my anger right now.

And it's odd that I'm spilling my guts to a screen, but nowadays, who can you turn to to listen without receiving response? Just a listening ear is all I need. Funny that technology is the one thing that provides us mere mortals with an outlet.

Anyways...

the endearing thing about them is the one thing that also interferes with your comfort with them. That being their concern. Like I said, it's endearing that when you tell them something, their response is entirely derived from their concern for your well being.

But at the same time,

when you complain about something, sometimes all you want is a listening ear, someone to sympathize, and if ever you want that, your parents should be your last resort.

The only response you get is the ever-so-patronizing "Do-this" and in a twist of things, everything becomes your fault. Even the inevitable or the unexpected.

And then that sympathy? No, It becomes scolding.

Case in point,

today I was complaining about some random piercing pain right behind my shoulder, to my mother of course. Usually, if I need an ear, I don't turn to her knowing full well what I will receive, but in this occasion, and in present circumstance, she's the one I can talk to. It would be a horrible imposition to call my friends and complain about a backache. Whatever.

I just whined about it, and then she interrupts me to tell me that it's because of my posture. Then she tells me I slouch whenever I work, and for this reason I will grow old with a hunch back. And then it becomes a lecture.

1. If it were a posture problem, it would ache in my lower back.

2. I was sitting looking at recipes, not on my laptop as she assumes.

3. My posture has survived my slouching for 19 almost 20 years, I'm sure this one pain is spontaneous.

4. I know full well the consequences of my actions.

Is it too much to ask for someone to talk with? Is it too much to ask for a little sympathy?

Maybe.

On Simplicity

Ask a man what annoys them about women, and they'll most likely answer in more or less words,

complicated.

Ask a woman what annoys them about man, and they'll most likely answer in more or less words,

simple-minded.

Ask both parties what ruined their relationship and both will answer:

communication.

It's not simple, but it's not so complicated really.

It's kind of funny actually, this correlation, but I guess it balances itself out. If you think about it really. Anyways... to my blog.

I am fully aware of the fact that I wrote only a few hours ago, sure, it may mean I have no life,

I'd like to think it's an outlet for my imagination to run wild, to mark my thoughts as they drift through my mind. My profoundness will not go unnoticed. haha. that was a joke.

Nevertheless, this came while I was washing my face in the basin...

During the school year, I spent the day sleeping, but the nights I would spend wide awake. No, not partying, not getting drunk or high or plastered or hammered or shit-faced or tangling the sheets with a significant other... no, definitely not.

I spent the nights just like I spend my days over the summer... thinking aloud, talking, listening, conversing...

It's actually ironic, I used to hate conversation, I used to be terrified of human interaction, yet this is what I love about life, about my friends, about me. I love to converse.

Talking is one thing, having one person to just talk to for hours on end, about everything, life, happiness, logic, love, men, women, drugs, college, teenage years, growing up, growing old, dying, birth, children, fate... and even the mundane things... cereal. Actually, it's very difficult to find that one person with whom you can talk with, click with, explain your thoughts without fear of judgement, or argument or those awkward lulls where both parties stare in the opposite direction.

But then you find yourself for two nights in a row, talking until 4 in the morning.

On the other hand, listening. People think they know how to listen. No, that sounds like I'm divine and you are a mere mortal... humans, they think they know how to listen. Read this: listening involves no movement from your lips, no vibration of your vocal chords, no shaping of your mouth, nothing. When was the last time you really listened?

A friend asked me to listen to a five minute concerto today. After one minute, I said "this is intense." He responded with a "shush... listen." I followed his instruction, closed my eyes and listened. It took me a while to actually listen, to ignore the bugs flying about my neck, to ignore the sounds of the pond fishes and mute the fisherman yards away...

I spent the next minutes of my life merely existing to nothing but the sweet sound of a piano. A few moments in life forgetting about my worries, forgetting about my fears and stresses, about what I would do in five minutes, or about conversation.

There is nothing more profound than that one moment. And I don't need to be on top of a mountain, or amidst a city overlooking the lights of the skyscrapers, that's listening with your eyes. Listening involves your ears, and your ears only.

Sometimes we verbally agree, we say "yeah, I heard that before" or "No, I didn't know that could happen," or "that was intense." Silence in itself, if genuine, will provide the answer far greater than any words can describe.

And then in moments of conversation...

How often do you find yourself muting the person across you, seeing their lips move but not really listening what you have to say?

Rather,

you're thinking what you're going to say next.

Wow,

that's awfully egocentric of you.

I know you've done it. We all have, I find myself doing it.

I'm so afraid of it being awkward, those weird lulls in conversation,

but that was because you couldn't think of anything,

and you can't really pull anything because you weren't listening in the first place.

ha!

I'll admit, at first what scared me about being in a long distance relationship, was the fact that it hangs purely on communication,

which scares everybody, even the best speakers, the most social people think about communication.

And, I myself was afraid of the conversations becoming stagnant, empty, run out of things to say,

but this was a guy with whom I spent every night talking to since January,

sorry, talking WITH since January.

And I'm still up until 4 talking with him.

I wondered why that was, why we haven't hit a dead end,

and that's because I don't worry about what I have to say next,

if I can one-up him,

or please him,

or make him laugh,

or earn his approval,

you become so comfortable with someone that you don't even worry about what comes out of your mouth,

you sit,

you listen,

and given the circumstance,

you talk.

There's something great about genuine silence provided the most fitting company,

even in silence, you're completely happy.

No words even need to be said because you're perfectly in tune.

And that my friends is the simplicity in life we need to find.

That's why I'm awake when no one else is,

because life is simple then,

no distraction, no noise, no interference of any sort,

just you

listening

Forbidden

I'm glad to report I am about 90% recovered. Sure, my jaw is a little sore, but at least I can eat solid foods. It's been a week of utter torture eating foods that fail to satisfy my craving... and it all comes down to the enjoyment one second can bring.

This is actually, now that I realize it, very applicable.

I guess it begins with the immediate removal from your everyday life. Suddenly, something you've grown so used to, vanishes. Well, maybe that's too drastic, then again, it is a drastic change. You never realize how important it is until it's gone from your life. But at the same time, you're that way because you're accustomed, you're comfortable where you are. You're satisfied. You're at peace and you are happy.

But the second it is stripped from you, you're left naked in the cold. And nothing, no other substitute can really make you feel the same, nothing can quite perfectly fill that hole. It's miserable, and it's impossible to cope with because of the fact that the only thing in your mind is the awareness of this emptiness.

I could honestly say it reaches it's peak when you can't do anything about it. It's forbidden, you can't cope with it, you can't resolve it because a. you can't stop thinking about it, so there goes forgetting about it, and b. the only way to resolve it, is to return to the past, but that's forbidden, it's hours away and there's nothing you can do.

Somehow, you become used to the emptiness, you grow to this hunger and you accept it. Yes, you miss it, you want it, but you've come to terms with the situation. For some odd reason, you're at peace, miraculous as it may seem.

Then some fear develops... you notice your comfort and it scares you. You're so used to this feeling that you begin to think, you don't need it anymore.

So what do you do? You remind yourself.

But that makes you even more miserable, because you're looking at pictures, you're re-living the memories, replaying in your mind, like an old record player.

And for some odd reason, that feeling diminishes. Or feels like it diminishes, only to be replaced by a numbness.

You're tired of missing it.

And in the time it took for you to grieve, come to terms, relive and then grow, you've somehow managed to see the time melt away. All the time you've spent comes down to one singular moment when what you missed is back in your arms and that feeling of complete happiness, no, more than happiness, more than satisfaction and peace, more than joy and exuberance..

it's always worth it.

Psh, and you thought you were afraid it was losing its significance, that feeling overwhelms you and warms you deeper than any furnace on a cold, wintry evening.

I miss you,

A newfound hobby

Oh dear...

Have you ever wanted something so badly,

so intensely, that nothing ever fully satisfies you until you have it,

until you have devoured every bite,

until nothing is left on your plate, not even a crumb,

and the plate is so shiny that you could easily place it back in the cabinet,

as if it were never used.

I'm a complainer. I whine, and I verbalize my complaints... often.

My family just happens to have it rough for the next week,

or just until I can sink my teeth into something savory,

some delicious, satisfying, mouthwatering, comforting...

At first, I thought,

"Hey, this won't be that bad. I'll just eat ice cream and yogurt all day long, and jello, and have bed-side service... this won't be bad."

Yeah... wrong. Entirely.

Boredom is pretty bad when there's nothing to do and everyone is busy,

but it reaches it's peak when you're unwillingly bored... with happenstance, you're bored AND you can't do anything about it.

I remedied my boredom by working out, but what can I do now? Staring at a computer screen alone doesn't satisfy my needs, and immersing myself in my Harry Potter books is perfect until your butt hurts and re-positioning doesn't add comfort on any level.

So what did I do?

I've spent the weekend collecting quotes. If you don't know me, basically my favorite quotes I will collect in a worn-out notebook of mine, only about one-third filled.

But I'm tired of reading and writing, my hand hurts.

I caught up on my episodes of Gossip Girl and Greek, I've finished the door-decs I have planned for my floor, I've cut, dried and styled my hair...

so I made muffins.

Blueberry swirl muffins with a crispy lemon top to die for. THe crunch is perfect, the cupcakes smell fragrant and are moist to the touch...

I sacrificed my comfort and my painless afternoon to bite my own concoction...

yeah, the pain is agonizing. Especially when I slid my tongue against my teeth to collect the pieces of muffin, only to yank on my stitches which killed...

I've decided this would be the worst way to die, or rather the worst way to endure torture,

to be eternally hungry, and see pictures of food, to smell food, to see food on your plate, but not be able to even open your mouth to eat.

This is torture. I'm done complaining.

On Weakness

There comes a time in a teenagers life when they see everyone for who they really are.

Strange that this occurs while I am, or have been, laying motionless in my bed, my body running on vicoden, ice strapped to my face, and the lower portion of my face completely numb. Odd, but no matter, I'm glad to have reached such an epiphany.

As a member of the female orient, of course my mind drifts to those I love. Who will care? Who will be indifferent? Who could care any less? And who is thinking of you right now?

I have a quote for you by James Matthew Barrie, the author of Peter Pan. I bring this up because frankly, I believe it perfect and cannot be explained in any other way,

"Let no one who loves be called unhappy. Even love unreturned has its rainbow."

This lead me to thinking... why do we allow ourselves unhappiness? Why not lock ourselves up, that way no one will let us down, no one will disappoint, no one will argue with us, no one will criticize us, judge us, patronize us... shoot us. Why not?

But does unhappiness stem from others' opinions?

One of my favorite quotes says, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."

Those who know me would say I'm emotional, I'm an open book, I trust easily, I depend on others way too much.

While I agree, and whilst I believe this is a downfall, I cannot help but think that I would rather be this way, I'd rather wear my heart on my sleeve that lock it up, Hoping someday that someone will open it up.

Here's the truth. No one other that you can unlock it. No one other than you.

Sure, I wear my heart on my sleeve, sure I open my self up, but in doing so I'm showing you who I am. All my flaws, all my patches and all my stitches, you are seeing me for who I am. And it's your choice to accept me, to choose me, to listen to me and to love me. If you don't, then why hide myself from you? Why please you if you don't accept me?

In giving myself to the world, to my friends and enemies, to my demons and my lovers, yes, I fall, it's inevitable, and while it is expected, it's human. From pain, from grief you learn that every feeling, enjoyable and agonizing is worth it. In the end, you emerge more beautiful than ever, you come out a better person.

I open myself up to you so you see me for what I really am. I welcome you into my heart to see all the colors, and I do so willingly.

Will you take it?

And while you're laying in bed with no company but a laptop, or a stuffed dalmatian, I can think of only one person, one person only, who may be miles away, but shows their affection from a great distance, affection more deeply than anyone within my town.

I earned that from opening up, from letting them in and showing them all I have to offer. It's not up to me whether or not he likes it, but it's up to me to let them in. And I always do, I'll always let you in.

All my love,

Katrina

On Reality

I think I have discovered something fantastic.

something unprecedented, unrivaled, something phenomenal.

Something stirring.

I came across this discovery over the weekend,

which I spent with some of my favorite people at Cedar Point.

As an acrophobe, I can honestly tell you I was terrified.

Nothing but the fear of falling to my death repeated in my mind as we waited in line.

The thing about cedar point, is not that it's a place for rollercoasters and rides,

no, Cedar Point is THE place for rollercoasters and rides.

Prior to arriving at the park, I verbalized specific instructions to my ride-buddy,

"You need to persuade me, push me, force me onto the rides because I will find a way out."

So you see pictures online, You think you can ride it, you think you can climb 142 feet and slide right down, you're assured you can be launched at 120miles per hour in four seconds.

It's a different story when you're standing beside it.

or when you're waiting in line.

or when you're the next person behind the gate.

or when you're climbing in to your car.

or when you're fastening your seatbelt.

or when your car moves forward and begins the climb.

and all you hear is the clicking of your car as you reach higher and higher.

For one brief moment, you look up and you see everything. Breathtaking, yet not enough to take away from the fact that in a matter or milliseconds, you'll be racing towards the ground.

and before you know it, it's over.

The anticipation. The anxiety. The fear. The ride. It's over and all you can do is smile.

I won't lie, persuasion from my buddy pushed me onto the ride, but I'd be lying if I told you reputation had nothing to do with it. To know that you were 2 seconds away, but backed out at the last second because you were too scared to take the jump, too scared to leap, too scared to trust.

You went all that way for nothing.

Regret.

I find the worst thing in life is regret.

And the best?

Jumping.

There's a scary, daring thing about taking that dive to the unknown. You never know how it'll work out, yet you do it anyways because if nothing else, you went through it, you lived it and you survived. You came out something new.

Front row on the highest coaster at cedar point...

...telling someone the truth, explaining your emotions.

It's all the same thing.

In the end it's all about trust. How much do you trust yourself? How much to you believe in yourself? That's all it really comes down to. Nobody but you. Scary, but exhilarating nonetheless.

take the ride,

you'll be glad you did.

In loving memory

Everyday we turn up the radio, we open up iTunes, we slip in CDs in the stereo, we put our earphones on and turn the volume up.

And the song, whichever songs plays reminds you of one brief moment in time. One particular emotion, one setting, one person...

Asher Roth... Freshman year of College

Backstreet Boys... Singing Larger than Life on the bus on the way to school

BBMack... Senior Summer California Vacation

Bloc Party... Late nights at OSU talking with Faraz about nothing but music

Cascada... Video Karaoke with Jennilyn and Majken to Everytime We Touch... 3 times it never finished recording

Cat Stevens... my favorite cousin, singing Cat Stevens in the car in Las Vegas

Chevelle... the way Chris bangs his head when the chorus plays, every single time

Cobra Starship... the Fallout Boy concert with Mike, standing amidst the pouring rain, sweat and the gross odors associated with mildew and perspiration...

Coldplay... How we were so close to going to the concert last October 21... adn the fact that my friend listened to Viva every day of last summer. Probably still does.

Death Cab For Cutie... I Will Possess Your Heart always plays at 3am... I should know, I saw it every night

Eric Hutchinson... my roomates, Jenny, Cassandra and Hiedi

The Fray... My good friend Silis, every time "Never Say Never" plays, I text him to let him know

Fallout Boy... Being at the same concert with my best friend, yet not knowing she was there too

Gary Jules... literally... What.The.Hell... Donnie Darko?

High School Musical... Swooning over Zac Efron with Kaileigh...

Howie Day... haha, Chris and I would always make fun of our friends ringtone... doo doo doo do

Imogen Heap... Jennilyn.. =) and the dance from SYTYCD

Israel Kamakawiwo'Ole... My dad stealing my sister's Uke

Jason Mraz... I'm Yours always makes me smile, every single time

Jimmy Eat World... The Middle on Rockband

Jonas Brothers... in the hangover "not next weekend, the jonas brothers are in town, but the weekend after!"

Josh Groban... the wonderful concert, and not being able to breath while in the vicinity of the famous Josh Groban.... the only concert I've really been to

Landon Pigg... adorable commercial from AT&T

Linkin Park... one day, the boys and I drove to polaris, and I about screaming Linkin Park the entire time, the windows down, the sun bright... just a happy day

The Lonely Island... Riding in the car with Emily and spotting an odd creature, still a mystery

MGMT... my friend Hany left a message on my wall with a random pyramid at the end.. I think this was playing in the background.

Mika... the last day of RA class and doing the "stanky leg."

Muse... my favorite

Oasis... thanksgiving get together last year at my friend Shaayak's house, and playing rockband, eating lean cuisine fettucini and singing Oasis

Radiohead... driving back with Faraz, Chris, Ravi and Mike on high street from the Hookah bar

Red Hot Chili Peppers... =) a friend's favorite

Rise Against... someone's favorite grey t-shirt.

Simon and Garfunkel... my graduation

Taylor Swift... hahahaha, I despise so much, but my friend loves her..

Sorry, I had to do that.

My point wasn't in those artists, but rather on a certain memory I have.

Much of my childhood remains a mystery to me. My memories seem to have faded with time, yet one I specifically remember.

Our teal-striped couch lies with the back against the front window, from which you could see the street. On this day specifically, it was raining and I would sit facing the window watching the rain from the ground become mist as each car drove on by.

In the background, Michael Jackson.

Funny how the few memories I remember have these in common...

1. Always raining

2. No climax, no plot

3. Overlooking the surrounding

I'll admit, I shed only a few tears during the memorial today. It never occurred to me how important he really was until he died. To me, he represents my upbringing, my childhood, and when I was little "Heal the World" was my favorite song for all time.

Nothing really matters until its past, until its gone. And when it's out of your life, you realize just how important they were to you. When they leave you, they leave behind a hole, a void which can't be filled, sure, it may be replaced, but never exactly the same.

And then you're kicking yourself in the butt for never telling them, never showing them, never verbalizing all they meant to you, the impact they've made, the mark they left on you.

all my love.

A Case for Distance

For the past three weeks, I have been counting down the days until I finally get to see someone I have grown so used to seeing everyday. How do I feel? Well, I feel excitement, nervous, anxious, overwhelmed, what else?

Alas, my purpose is not about my excitement, I digress...

Moreover, I find the situation entirely ironic. Why? Because I prefer to be physically near someone, physically near my friends, physically near my family, and physically near anyone I care about. I would be lying if I said my relationships with those I consider dear aren't based on proximity.

Now, I'm swallowing my words, because here I am, counting down the days until I see my boyfriend.

The thing about long distance, is rather nothing about distance. It's about connection, and it's about the strength of the relationship. About long distance, I have learned the following:

1. You learn that when you really care about someone, the distance won't matter. You still stay up until 5 in the morning, talking just as if he were right there beside me. You still remain the same two people, sharing one commonality, one similar, mutual interest, one goal.

2. There is the overwhelming existence of trust and support, which matters more than presence or proximity can ever fix. And you see most especially you both live different lives that can exist without the other directly beside you, holding your hand.

3. Emphasis is placed upon conversation and communication. Since it is the one connection you have existing, might as well strengthen it. Communication to understand emotions, worried, stresses and to hear the other party only assuring you, to comfort your concerns and anxieties...

4. And in the final moment of reunion, you feel it all again. You know exactly why you put yourself in this position, because you feel strongly about them, and they you. Finally within proximity, communication doesn't even matter, just presence is enough to make you happy, more more than happy, exuberant.

Yours truly.