quelquefois

I can’t believe that this time next week, I’ll be home in California. I have so much left to do here, so many things to see and do–too many. Although the city and I started off rough, we’ve since then been able patch things up a bit. The city has grown on me, and it has also made me grow. (More on that later.)

Look at all I’ve done in just one week! This past week I have: survived sickness in multiple beds/vehicles/toilets; seen Louis’ tour at the Met for the third time (though it’ll never get old); spent time with my favorite Rukesh. I went to trashy bars with Julien and Rukesh, ate delicious Korean food at Kun Jip, saw Priscilla Ahn in concert with Paroan and Julien, took beautiful photographs of beautiful classmates, explored the New Museum, dined in Central Park, among many other things.

This week I have these to look forward to: Kanye/Lupe/N*E*R*D concert, seeing the photographer’s studio at the Met, finishing my last day at the Council, go to P.S.1 and picnic with my favorite flatmate in the world, Sophia, seeing wonderful friends before I leave, and brunchbrunchbrunch!

There isn’t a shred of doubt in me that will keep me from coming back (unless a hoard of cockroaches erect a wall of themselves, weaved in some sort of porous material with their legs waving through one side). I really hope that does not happen.

There’s speculation that you will not be performing on August 6 at the last stop of the Glow in the Dark Tour. If this happens, I will hunt all of you down and demand a personal performance, even if it is while I sit in a jail cell.

Sincerely,
The girl who just paid too much money to to see you perform

I’m behind in so many things. So many. Studying, post-processing photographs, editing/writing, exploring, practicing 中文, seeing people…

4. Crossing the street in Manhattan after the red hand stops blinking.

Wow. Can we talk about this? I just had an out-of-this-world, surreal experience. I just saw some of the best performances in my life (sorry, Spice Girls, you really don’t compare, even on your reunion tour) by John Legend and Estelle. I’ve never felt so much raw emotion (different from the screaming fan kind of way) from both the performers and the crowd. Oh yeah, they were talented, too. Too talented.

I had always thought that their music (especially JL), although unique and transcendental in composition, still reverberated with situations and circumstances in everyday life. But it was tonight when I really felt that they connected with the audience members. They sing of the joys, the struggles that women and men face in relationships, both romantic and platonic. The way they sang their songs live nailed the emotions they tried to convey.

The crowd was amazing, too. I was seriously one of about ten or fifteen other Asians/non-black people in a 14,000 person crowd. Yet, I didn’t feel any different from anyone else. I joined other women in bemoaning how men got to basically cut the line because a) men and women were segregated for security checks. Since there were less men at the concert, it took much less time for them to get through security check. At other times, I sang and danced with everyone around me during our favorite songs (for me, it was all of them).

Even more importantly, I went to the concert with two good friends who are just as fun-loving and wonderful as everyone else! 

In short, it was an unforgettable evening and I couldn’t be happier.

So….the waterbug just died on its own in the corner. Yay?

in New York City has got me rethinking whether I really love it here enough to deal with these insects if I come back next year (I’m considering spending another year in NYC after my year in China). I thought living here in a clean neighborhood in Queens would be an escape from them, but somehow they still manage to find their way in. 

Tonight I was peacefully sitting in my room, working on something menial or reading McSweeney’s and listening to music when I see a big brown object scuttle across the carpet. I turn to see that a waterbug/cockroach* was lunging towards me. What the fuck? Do these things just follow me wherever I go? 

Granted, I’m not as scared as when I faced Juicy Wingy McJuicerroach back when I lived in the Lower East Side, but that doesn’t detract an ounce of hatred I have for them. Die, die, DIE….but not around me. It ran back and forth and back and forth in the corner of my room for a really long time. I didn’t want to kill it on the carpet so I was hoping it would eventually make its way back out the room to the tiled floor.

Unfortunately, it hasn’t come out yet. In fact, I don’t even know where it is anymore. It’s not in the corner anymore, not on the walls, nowhere to be seen. Perhaps it ran under my bed? Under my sheets? I’m hoping that my roommate comes home any minute to help me, help me, HELP ME!

* I’d love to make the distinction for you but there’s no way I’m about to stare at photos of these creatures to find their anatomical differences and compare them to what I saw in my room.

I have taken hundreds more photos in July thus far than in all of June. Now that I’m back in the groove, I am looking at everything with a critical eye again. I was disenchanted with photography for a while–a combination of both exhaustion (from my RISD class) and skepticism about my talent. Through museums, galleries, compliments, and classes, I have rediscovered and even emboldened my passion for it. I can’t wait to take more photographs as I learn more techniques and expand my knowledge of the art form. You know, get some hardc0re l33t skillz.

Unfortunately, I still have severe writer’s block. New York and photography drain so much from me that I can’t muster anything else up for this.

The worst sensation between feeling and numbness is the immeasurable pain between the two stages. But when it comes down to it, it certainly beats the creaking sound and feeling of my foot whenever I flex it or walk. I walked a lot at Brown, but I don’t think I’ve walked as much at Brown as I have in these past few weeks in NYC. The amount of walking had begun to show its effects on my foot.

A little over a week ago, I left my Lower East Side apartment because I had a terrible encounter with a waterbug/American cockroach (see: the many letters to the creepy crawlies below). Since I refused to go home, I walked more than I could ever imagine. I got sores up and down my feet. I searched vigilantly for coffee shops, bookstores, anywhere where I could sit for extended periods of time without feeling awkward or noticed.

I didn’t think there would be lasting effects, but now what I believe is the tendon that connects my shin to my toes (extensor tendon) is inflamed and does the creaking sound so symptomatic of tendonitis. I tape my foot up but it doesn’t work as well as I’d hope at stabilizing the foot.

I wouldn’t ever have conceived that walking too much could hurt me so badly. It seems to be a little reminder of how, even as young adults, we are still so fragile and mortal. I can’t even take my feet for granted.