It's Not Rocket Science

Today was my first shift at my temporary, part-time position at White Spot. You see, after months of irresponsible visa card usage I was pretty much forced into this. And after five minute into my shift it all suddenly came back to me; I hate restaurant jobs. I can deal with the hectic environment, the people, the terrible, terrible uniforms, the shitty food and even the fact that I had worked in restaurants all throughout high school and university and have quit time and time again only now to come back to another one after my graduation. That is all fine to me, I am not so stuck up that I can't swallow my pride for the sake of survival. But the the I cannot stand is the way these business are run and staffs are treated. Perhaps not all of my new co-workers know that I have had extensive food and service experiences but the way they treated me as the "first-timer" today was nothing short of how someone would treat another if that person was mentally handicapped. Every command was said with so much unnecessary emphasis and condescendingly superfluous repetition that made every single mundane task seem like verbal instructions for how to deal with something as important as dismantling a doomsday weapon. I really don't know how much I can continue working there if I expect to save any shred of dignity and self-respect. The only thought that's preventing to immediately marching in and quitting is the thought of these shoes:


My ideal part-time job right now would be to work at American Apparel but none of the Vancouver locations are hiring at this moment. Which means, I would have to stick with what I've got going on currently until my head explodes.
I love wearing hats when my hair is short. Totally hipster!

Hare Hair

There comes a time in every self-respecting hep-cat's life when a life-changing decision is made. For me, cutting my hair a couple of days ago was not that decision. However, because it was so anti-climactic and spontaneous that it in turn earned much more focus than it actually warrants, it, in the end, became a huge deal. Even though I was not aware of just how big of a decision I was making especially when I had been trying to grow my hair for the past eight months.
I guess I should have started by saying that I am not one of those people that makes a huge stink about getting a dramatic hair cut because I have honestly had all kinds of crazy dos in one can possibly imagine; from dreadlocks to almost bald. But what makes this occasion slightly different is that I was inspired to get a hair cut by my boyfriend, Daniel, who recently went from looking like a Beatles to a jar head. Plus, I was getting sick of my over-grown mullet so when I one day caught a gimps of my "rat tail" and immediately thought about Billy Ray Cyrus, I knew the hair had to go.

An inquisitive face with a much shorter hair-cut. it's hard to believe I now have no hair.

Here's a boyish outfit to suit my boyish hair. Had to wear a bow to indicate my actual sex. Ya know, like how people put bows on baby girls to indicate femininity?

Some Words

Social theorists often talk about the artificiality of the world we live in. The notion that nothing we come in contact with is naturally occurring foreshadows a bleak future where "genuine living" is merely an idea rather than a process to be experienced.
I've been reading poetry lately. And this poem by John Updike, I think, encapsulates a society wherein everything is constructed, purposefully placed and never organic

Telephone Poles

They have been with us a long time.
They will outlast the elms.
Our eyes, like the eyes of a savage sieving the trees
In his search for game,
Run through them. They blend along small-town streets
Like a race of giants that have faded into mere mythology.
Our eyes, washed clean of belief,
Lift incredulous to their fearsome crown of bolts, trusses, struts, nuts, insulators and such
Barnacles as compose
These weathered encrustations of electrical debris ---
Each a Gorgon's head, which, seized right,
Could stun us to stone.

Yet they are ours. We mad them.
See here, where the cleats of linemen
have roughened a second bark
Onto the bald trunk. And these spikes
Have been driven sideways at intervals handy for human legs.
The Nature of our construction is in every way
A better fit than the Nature it displaces.
What other tree can you climb where the birds' twitter,
Unscrambled, is English? True, their thin shade is negligible,
But then again there is not that tragic autumnal
Casting-off of leaves to outface annually.
These giants are more constant than evergreens
By being never green.

This was the most comfortable outfit I've ever put together. Mom pants and loose crop tops combined achieves the perfect equilibrium of style and comfort

On Love

What if I say I shall not wait?
What if I burst the fleshly gate
And pass, escaped, to thee?
What if I file this mortal off,
See where it hurt me, - that's enough, -
And wad in liberty?

They cannot take us any more, -
Dungeons my call, and guns implore,
Unmeaning now, to me
As laughter was an hour ago,
or laces, or a traveling show,
Or who died yesterday

-- Emily Dickinson

Today is QiXi, aka Chinese Valentines day. It is the seventh day and of the seventh lunar month according to the Chinese calendar. I've never been known to enjoy the celebration of any festivals or holidays and today is of no exception. The reason why I wanted to mention QiXi is because I am more intrigued by the folklore behind it more than the cultural traditions associated with it. The story, if any of you care to know is about the love between a mortal and a goddess and the forbidden love they share that eventually lead to their eternal separation. On the surface it is just one of the many cliche love tales but to me it is a case of the struggle not for love, but for rather companionship.Some years ago when I viewed everything through rose colored classes, I was a firm believer of true love and the existence of "the one" or a "soul mate". But as time passed and people changed, so have my conceptions about what love really is. And to me, the yearning to be with someone is as simple albeit powerful as the desire to seek companionship. We see this in the animal kingdom, although differing in purpose and social codes, human beings are just as driven to seek out any suitable mate as animals. Thus this primal instinct is non-discriminatory, meaning we don't really care if we get matched up with "the one" as long as we find one.
For all the romantics out there, I'm sorry if this has disappointed you but it is merely of my personal opinion and observation. However, I do believe that our will to seek out companionship and the desire to maintain it is what eventually transform into what we call "love". And this love to me is very, very real and in no ways like that between two mating animals. However, we must understand that this powerful and unique bond between people must first stem from the need for companionship therefore it is not exclusive to members of the opposite sex. We also must understand that the only type of love worth maintaining is one having endured many conflicts and great hardship because that is the only test of one's commitment to another. In conclusion, this trumps the idea of "soul mate" because the implication of "destined to be together" connotes not an idea of "fighting for what's valued" but a notion of "what's yours will always be effortlessly yours".

When You Dream

People always tell me to "be realistic" or "wake up". Most of the time they say that to save me from disappointments when certain things I've been been hoping and wishing for are too far fetched from coming true. But once in awhile, I simply hate it when people say that to me because it's so damn discouraging. I mean what the fuck does that mean anyway? Am I a dreamer for wanting to make a world a better place? Am I being unreasonable for wanting to pursue a career in arts rather than the corporate world? Or am I operating in a completely different realm from yours and you're just informing me that I'm not living in reality because I'm literally stuck in a different plane somehow? Regardless, I think the whole notion of reality is completely bogus (mind the irony). Because what is reality, really?
Throughout my study of human psychology, I have always find cases where people are so convinced that their perceptions are "real" to be especially fascinating. Because it always boggled my mind that some people can lead a life of what seems like utter obscurity to us but to them, it is the only world they know. As I read, studied and watched a lot of these cases, I eventually realized that sometimes physicians and psychologists really don't have any right in telling them what is real because reality is self-constructed. Take the classic philosophical riddle for example. "If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" Of course it does, because so many happen without our awareness but that doesn't mean that there isn't a possibility of unperceived existence. So just because certain things can't be understood, comprehended or even directly perceived, doesn't mean they don't exists or that they are not "real". Who is to say that a schizophrenic patient's reality is abnormal and thus "not real"? Because to them, it is as real as it gets. I once knew a girl who was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder and experienced severe auditory and visual delusions when her symptoms were at their worst. After a copious amount of drugs, her symptoms finally went away. But til today, she still recounts the experience from that segment of her life with so much detail and conviction that it was almost like she was in an alternate reality of some sort.
Perhaps this is the downfall of having an ego because it really limits us from accepting possibilities outside of our consciousness. However, I do think we have the propensity to do so though, because when you dream, do you not hurt when you dream of walking into a wall? Do you not cry when you dream of tragedy befallen on a loved one? Do you not wake up in cold sweat when you dream of your own death? All of our dreams are as real to us as they can be when we sleep. So why do we emphasize the waking reality more than the dreaming reality? I personally prefer to dream because at least in my dreams no one tells me to wake up.

Here's some obscure photo collage action, inspired by what I've learned about memory and reality. Remember the big-cat t-shirt? It is now a crop tank.

Nope, not askin' for directions.

I've been feeling pretty inspired lately due to the fact that I pretty much have been staying at home and sewing and playing music. As suffocating as it can be at times, being housebound isn't all bad when you dedicate your time to your favorite hobbies. And for me, it's making dresses and playing around with all of my quirky instruments I've recently added a pair of spoons to my collection and have been annoying the hell out of everyone with them). Having discovered the silver lining of my joblessness I'm starting to feel somewhat lucky for the fact that I have all the time in the world to do the things I love. And this blessing in disguise may have just presented itself as a new possibly for I have been contemplating about going into fashion design. Of course, I wouldn't just rashly commit to something as big as a career change. Because ever since high school, I thought my true calling was in psychiatry. However, I slowly discovered that I'm really not cut out for the grueling process of graduate school and medical school. So I guess what the moral of the story is that I can never really know or prepare for what's to come. Who know, maybe it's time for something different...completely different?

These thrifted Banana Republic pants are so incredibly comfortable. They used to have flare bottoms and fitted a little awkwardly due to the disproportionate length. But after I altered them into slim trousers, they're much more flattering and stylish.

I've been working with and wearing lace a lot just because it is the the single best material since cotton and this AA raglan is the best of the both worlds.

Meet Me in St. Louis

Three plane rides, numerous car trips and sixteen hours later I finally made it home from St. Louis, Missouri. The four day trip consisted of copious amount of drinking, dancing and stewing in above 30 degree heat and humidity; so all in all a good time. In the midst of partying like there's no tomorrow I realize just how lucky I am to have been surrounded by awesome people so for the first time in a long time I truly my time being away from home.
Here's something you don't know about me, I am an incredibly shy person upon first encounter and sometimes I come off as being even a little stand-offish. Thus I've always been awkward in social situations when crowds of strangers and semi-strangers are involved. However, this time it was different, I felt at ease in the company of others. This new found sensation was foreign at first then I slowly realized that maybe this is merely a sign of growing up and being able to let go of old habits. This is the dress I made for my friend's wedding I attended in St. Louis. The top is made from scratch from lace and the bottom was a trifted skirt I had recently purchased in Seattle. I meant to take some pictures of me wearing it at the wedding but like I said, there was a lot of drinking.

Looks, it's a tornado! Actually, I'm not sure what it was. My friends said it was just a plume of smoke coming out of that factory, but I say it's some sort of mist pillar. But I really just wanted to take a picture of the Mississippi river.
When I got home yesterday, I was treated with a pleasant e-mail which informed me that my blog review is up and I was also awarded the Featured Blogger badge.