Pens and penicillins

We'll see how enduring this desire to write is. I'm also shamed by my brilliant and much cooler younger sister who manages to keep an insightful blog while she is away in Japan via the JET program. It seems that in being away my sense of being guarded and telling most people the same information that's been deemed socially and publicly appropriate (often repeating the same information on different occasions, I've noticed) has affected my ability to communicate in intimate and meaningful ways in several media including writing, which is probably the last thing I want. So how do I balance my writing the way she has where I boldly discuss issues concerning to me in a general sense (why am I so cowardly afraid of being wrong?) and then manage to relate it back to myself again? It's a skill she might have to teach me or something I'll have to attempt to hone here. I've never been able to generate thoughts de novo which is why I value conversations so much, because there's always a buddy to guide me. It seems that my thoughts turn toward the trivial and quotidian when left by themselves. It's like a group of people milling around in front of a door and none are sure whether they're outside the door or already inside the room but everyone is too timid to ask anyone else what they think so it's a collection of non-interacting individuals trying to make sense of the situation but unwilling to take action.

I suppose it'd be appropriate to discuss my California trip since I've forgotten so much of it already. The memories will only decay. I've been much happier in San Francisco than I had been in Palo Alto. It truly gave me first-hand perspective on the ennui of the privileged that dominates most of the US. I thought I understood "American Beauty" but that was more in the abstract. Never had I felt the necessity of an automobile (felt paralyzed by not having a car) or worked in an office where I sat for hours five days a week with my own cubicle and computer. To talk to my other officemates I'd either shout over the low dividers or get up and circle around the labyrinthine office, carving out an awkward path.

Some good things. The smell of pines and eucalyptus everywhere. I sincerely believe that every time I encounter that scent I will think of my time in California (it permeated the bus while we passed through the Presidio yesterday). The bike down palm drive after sunset. Getting lost on campus after seeing a reading of Omeros (mediocre adaptation) and still pretending that I knew where I was going when there was almost no one around. Friendly people at work. Friendly people at the home I was staying in. I still think fondly of the one night LJ and I sat around playing Let It Be on her guitars. Hendrick was kind enough to drive me around everywhere so we ended up getting Pho in San Jose (twice and mostly his indulgence) and at Berkeley Bowl (once, my indulgence, though he did get the best watermelon ever there). I think I need to discuss my fondness for supermarkets and US pharmacies in another entry but will just say it's related to White Noise by Delilo. Stevan and I attempted to go out one night in Menlo Park which was dull and cold. We sat under heating lamps watching the locals as I drank an Old Fashioned (again, mediocre) and he had a White Russian. This whole episode discouraged me from ever actually going out in Palo Alto, which I walked through a few times during the day.) I began taking care of myself (running, sleeping early, reading every night, listening to NPR) but also felt as if reality were suspended--like I was left in some really nice bus depot and just waiting to get on with my journey. What saved my sanity was being able to see my friends back East during Nikki & Alex's perfect wedding. Again, I was submitted to the emotional intensities of being back in the city.

During my week of "vacation" between Stanford and UCSF, I found myself in LA mostly out of housinglessness and having no money after attending the wedding. The other medical student happened to be driving to LA so I hitched a run (we split gas so I made it there for $20) and stayed at Stephanie's even though she wasn't there but Hendrick was because he was also homeless. LA was confusing and there still some things I need to figure out. Again, I felt paralyzed without a car and was strongly discouraged from taking the bus so was chauffeured from place to place which made me really uncomfortable. Downtown LA is beautiful and is incredible with these ornate Art Deco skyscrapers. It unfortunate that these buildings don't have the human vitality associated with their luminous facades. At night they become deserted and the streets echo eerily in contrast with the day's faded bustle. Being the geek I am I went to the Public Library, Caravan Books, a (500) Days of Summer tour and met with a couchsurfer at Lost Souls Cafe, which is located in an alley. I went to Mitsuwa, Little Tokyo (yay, Far Bar and Cosmos) and Sunset junction. There was biking along the beach in Santa Monica to Venice Beach. Found out there was a Barcade then quickly discovered it had been closed permanently for months.

Then there was Napa at the Aberge de Soleil and Robert Mondavi winery. It was probably the most relaxing fun I'd had in a while, despite coming down with a cold the day before. I blamed the fact that I went swimming in a pool.

Geez, this is mostly a list of stuff I've done. I suppose that's the benefit of writing daily or at least even weekly. I feel so much has happened but right now I'm missing home quite a bit. Nikki & Alex's wedding deserves more discussion at least.

Well, here I am in SF having met up with a few of Karla's amazing friends and some my own. As displaced as I feel in some ways, I feel grounded in others. I certainly wasn't hoping to find absolute resolution but it seems that there will always be some internal conflict, shifting depending on my environment--some nurtured and others replaced. I'm less than a week into my 25th year and all I can do is sigh.