Pink and Black

“I’m a creep/I’m a weirdo/What the hell am I doing here?/ I don’t belong here.” (Radiohead)

Eric. Eric is the cook on Sunday evenings at the wine bistro. Eric intrigues me. But not because he’s heavily involved in the theater department at the community college, not because he carries a selection of lighting filters around with him and certainly not because he has a fascination for guns and violence. He intrigues me because he’s 19 and we have a lot to talk about. Last Sunday was a particularly slow day at the bistro and Eric pulled out his homework. After 20 minutes or so he said, “Can you help me with my homework?” I felt so old. I didn’t think I would ever hear those words from anyone. Unable to help him, he put away the books and we made coffee. We stood around for hours or out smoking cigarettes just talking, drinking coffee on a a completely dreary and rainy day about…stuff. I forgot about feeling old. At one point, I made him laugh so hard that he called his friend right then and there and told him the joke. It made me feel good. While we talked, I drifted off for a few minutes and tried to remember what it was like being 19. I didn’t remember. I don’t remember! I realized that I don’t really remember a lot of being younger. I remember feelings, random things; things like that. Like I remember I didn’t like high school, but it’s really more of a feeling that I have now. I remember not going to class, but that’s about it. I remember feeling awkward and uncomfortable in my own skin at times. But all the ages, dates and times seem to run together. I marveled at how comfortable Eric seemed when speaking with a person older than him. I don’t know if I would have felt the same at his age. I am reminded of that movie “Big”. The longer Josh stays an adult, the more he forgets what it’s like to be a kid. I really didn’t see this coming. I never thought it would happen, either. I’m an adult, I guess. I mean, I technically have been for some time, but I actually feel like one now. And what is the definition of an “adult”? What constitutes you as one? Well, in my opinion, it comes down to experience. I handle certain situations easier because I have the experience. I don’t let things bother me as much because I have experience. I’m letting go; I don’t feel so awkward; all because of experience. It’s a strange coincidence…tonight at dinner my mother was talking about opening a bakery in the Philippines and calling it “The La PazExperience”. We laughed a little at the idea because 1. my mother does NOT bake. and 2. We thought the name was…funny. My mother insisted that she wanted to have some sort of business with the word “experience” in it. We continued throughout dinner trying to convince my mother to think of another name. I didn’t realize what a powerful word it is. To say you have experience in something could mean people believing you or not, knowing what to do in a situation and running a successful business. It’s life changing and definitely gives us a new point of view.

Near the end of my shift, Eric was explaining to me the the different lighting techniques he was considering using for a classmate’s short play. He told me the plot of the play and I said, “Hm. Sounds interesting.” And it did sound interesting. He pulled out a copy of the play and said, “You can read it if you want, it’s really short.” With which I replied, ” Nah, I don’t really care.” We chuckled lightly at my brutally honest answer. I guess it’s suffice to say Eric and I share the same sense of humor which in turn makes him easy to talk to. Only being 19, maybe Eric is one of the lucky ones who developed early socially and just knows how to compose himself around people and handle situations. After one last smoke, my shift was over and as I was getting ready to leave, me being only  5′2″, I reached up to Eric to give him a hug good-bye. We clumsily navigated our arms around each other, and as we let go Eric smiled and said, “That was awkward.”

Ok. So I went to the pharmacy around 6pm to fill my prescription and they told me it would be ready at 730pm. I had several options at that point; I could leave somewhere and just come back. But knowing myself, I would most likely go some place that involved alcohol and I wouldn’t make it back and I really needed my medication that night. I could go back home and come back, but again knowing myself, once I made it home I wouldn’t want to leave the house again. I could just stay and wait; but what would I do for an hour and a half? I decided the safest choice would be to just stay and wait in the car, I’m sure I could amuse myself for 90 minutes. I told myself it would be a test to my patience. How long could and sit with myself and just do nothing? So I sat. I have to admit that I cheated a little with the help of my friend, we texted back and forth during that time which helped. But for the most part, it was just me in the car with my thoughts. Actually, I didn’t even have to think that much. The cars and the people coming in and out of the parking lot were enough to keep me distracted. Right away a group of 6 people walked into the sushi restaurant. They sat near the window and I watched them intently. They didn’t really look like the sushi eating type. I watched as they pulled their chopsticks apart. I counted every edamame they picked up. I made a bet with myself that they would order tempura. I would have been able to settle that bet too if this woman didn’t park right in front of me. Oh well. No matter. I can still count the people that walk into the restaurant, which was quite a lot that night; most likely people wanting to get a head start on the Valentine’s weekend. But it was enough that it got the people working in the mexican taqueria next door curious enough to leave their store and walk past the sushi restaurant and peep in. And that’s how it went for 90 minutes; people walking in, people walking out; cars driving in, cars driving out. One woman who parked right next to me left her window wide open. She was gone for some time and there was quite a bit of junk in her car. Apparantly, she didn’t care much for them. The rest of the people in the parking lot were less interesting. I guess it is a little intimidating seeing someone just sitting in their car staring at everyone. I would be suspicious as to what their intentions were and I certainly would think twice before parking next to them. Or if I had to park next to them, I would lock and double check of all my belongings before leaving my car. I did take note that that seemed to be most people’s attitutde when they saw me sitting in the car.

Finally 730 came and I made my way to back to the pharmacy. I didn’t expect to wait an extra 15 minutes when I got there but my medication wasn’t ready so what could I do? Pissed as I was, I took a seat and tried to calm myself down. I had already been waiting 90 minutes, what was another 15 minutes, right? I got my medication relieved there weren’t any extra issues. On my way to the car, I noticed a father and son making their way back to their car at the same time. Upon a really quick assesment, I could see they were coming from the taqueria and that the son was wearing a karate uniform. Parents don’t have time anymore to make their children dinner.They’re too busy taking their children to karate lessons; to teach their children how to defend themselves from ninjas on the playground. No, I understand the importance of teaching karate to their kids, but that doesn’t excuse them from not having dinner ready. Anyways, this father and his son came from the taqueria. The kid was happily munching on his chips as they walked to the car, he looked about 12 years old. Come to think of it, it kind of defeats the purpose of karate as a form of exercise if you’re going to reward your children with fatty burritos but I digress. So they were walking back to their car the same time I was walking to my car. Mind you this all happend in a matter of seconds. They were parked right next to my car on the passenger side, that would be the right side of the car. The father let his son get in front of him and enter the car first just as I was walking to my car and unlocking the door. The son enters the car from the back seat of the driver’s side. And just as I was stepping in to sit down in my car..BAM! The kid hits my car with his door. Without missing a beat, I get in the car and start it. I gave a look to the father who has hung his head down in shame. I look behind me to the son and he has a look of terror on his face and he keeps mouthing to me “Sorry. I’m sorry.” I decided at that point that I would do nothing, although I wanted to just give that kid an earful of words he only hears on the playground; and I would have be right too. But if I had, I realized the minute I finished throwing my tantrum the father and son would go home and maybe, if there was a mother figure in the picture, the father would tell his wife about the incident, and unconsciously he would park in spaces farther away from other cars and not realize his actions. Then the son would go home, finish his burrito, listen to his parents talk about the incident and forever have this unnatural fear or dislike of Asian women and not know why. As I drove away and thought about this, I marveled about how easily people can change other people’s perspective. A simple touch, a few words here and there; these all add up in our lives and affect who we are and how we act towards each other. I continued on to my destination and took a deep breath. I walked around my car and checked the damaged; a nice new 1 inch scratch greeted me. But the only thing I saw when I saw that scratch was that cheeky little boy looking at me in fear, I felt bad. I at least had the security in knowing that I did not affect this boy in a negative way. Hopefully, if anything, he learned some valuable lesson like he does at his karate classes; like thinking before you act. But if I remember anything about being a kid, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t.

“2007 is over. I expected 2007 to be a really good year; MY year! That was not the case. In fact it was over before it even began. The details aren’t really important, let’s just say 2007 was a struggle. One of the harder years of my life. But I came out of it and I’ve learned a few things too. More importantly, I learned a few things about myself. Realizing these things and accepting them has taught me that I have no control over anything, so why worry. Things don’t happen for a reason. They just happen. This IS life. I do look forward to 2008 but with a little caution. I don’t expect things anymore. I don’t hope for things anymore. In fact I can already tell you what’s going to happen in 2008, nothing. Politically, it will be a supercharged year. But we won’t know that till near the end of the year. In the meantime, we’ll just keep working, struggling to reach that impossible dream. I do have some plans for 2008. I plan to be more selfish, brutally fucking honest and continue to push people away from my life. This is your warning. Happy New Year.”

I wrote that exactly one year to the day. I think I fared well with my promises. 2008 wasn’t as bad as it started out to be. I’ve been at my job for a year now, hopefully I’ll still have my job by the end of the year (knock wood). I found a good balance of how to handle myself at work and different work situations. There are still things I think I will never be comfortable about work; some issues are within my power to handle but I don’t have the experience to deal with them. And experience just comes with time.

I went into 2008 without any expectations. Well…I would be lying if I said that. I can’t help but have some expectations, even a little bit. BUT I was able to let my guard down and let go of some of them. I guess it worked because the most unexpected things turned out to be some of the greatest in my life. I have a social life now; and I like it. I have a nice network of friends that go past my fingers on one hand. And they’re people I can rely on and trust. This summer turned out to be the best summer I’ve ever had since I was in 7th grade. I have this constant wall around me; some days it’s bigger, other days I can just barely peek over (ok..enough of the analogy). It started a long time ago. I thought it gave me an aura of mystery. The less people know about me, the MORE they’ll want to know me.That’s not true. People don’t want to get to know you if you don’t let them.

Just like 2007, I learned a lot about myself in 2008. When I posted that blog, I was in a bad place; angry and bitter. I felt like I got left behind in life, somehow. I also wasn’t taking any medication at the time. Now…my feelings about taking medication has been strewn all over my blog. I believe in natural things; as opposed to artificial things. It’s important to try and keep your body healthy and free of chemicals; as natural as the day you were born. But what if you were born without some of the important chemicals your body needs in order to keep you healthy and alive? I was. Since I was born without these chemicals, my choices were to replace them or not.  My acceptance of my bipolar disorder finally came to a head in 2008. I tried to go as long as I could without the aid of medication. I couldn’t handle it because I had no control over it. Several medications later, with my medication just being changed again recently, I know this is something I have to live with. It’s a process; a learning and lengthy process. There is no cure. There is no surgery. Its just the way it is.

I also found out I can push my body in positive ways. I started exercising and eating right which lead me to lose 35 pounds. Since then I’ve slacked and gained some weight back. But I’ve done it once, I can do it again. I won’t let that discourage or stop me.

So why the “Happy Birthday” title instead of “Happy New Year”? I was remembering in those “Frosty the Snowman” cartoons/claymations that air on TV during Christmas time, that whenever Frosty put on his hat and came to life, he would always say, “Happy Birthday!” Saying “Happy Birthday!” is like saying you get another chance; a chance to start over. And more than a holiday or an excuse to party and get stupid drunk, that’s what New Year’s means to me; a new beginning; a rebirth.

And what will 2009 bring? Today being the first day of the new year, I actually do not have any expectations for the rest of the year. I’m in a more…let’s call it “controllable” place. I’d like to travel more this year; maybe a move somewhere is in order. Those are my big goals. My little goals are simple; read more, keep my room clean, etc,etc. I do have one goal that I can put into effect right away. I will try not to look past today, enjoy what I can but not live recklessly.

Happy Birthday to me!

“I’d rather be a hammer than a nail/ yes I would if I could/Away, I’d rather sail away/ Like a swan that’s here and gone/A man grows older every day/ It gives the world its saddest sound/its saddest sound.” -Simon and Garfunkel

I feel very out of touch right now. It’s the best way I can describe it. When I feel this way, I feel the urge to create something. But not so much create something but to be a part of something creative. This feeling makes me miss working in restaurants. I miss the noise and the chaos…

You dread it every time. You pray to god that you don’t fall behind or it would be your behind! It’s just 3 hours. 3 measly hours of running, screaming, knives flying, and fire burning. It’s unreal; surreal. Your body goes into a different state of being. It’s fight or flight. There’s no time to stop and think, it’s all muscle memory from here on. And the masterpiece you’ve created on that plate is short lived as it goes out into the dining room; you know this. But another order has just come in through the ticket machine. That damn ticket machine! You wish it would shut up. It infiltrates your nightmares and the mere sound of it will haunt you forever.  The orders pile up one after another, sometimes they spit out so fast it snakes to the floor before you even complete a dish. It’s hell on earth. It’s like running a never ending marathon. You sweat. You cry. Will you get hurt? That’s a guarantee. You can leave, but like a bad relationship, you return. You can quit, but like a drug addiction, you crave it. It’s an itch; an urge. Because when it’s finally over; when you finally get that chance to breathe, the satisfaction is overwhelming.

I just woke up from a strange dream. I understand that dreams are just our mind’s way of making sense of the things we think about while we sleep. Of course dreams are strange. There are dreams that I do remember that I don’t write down because I can see the connection my mind was trying to make. But then the dreams that I do remember that don’t make sense are the ones I feel the need to record.

In my dream, I was in charge of taking care of two girls. They were around the age of 9. We were at the mall, browsing through clothes. I picked a couple of shirts I thought they would like. I think they were twin girls because I was looking at shirts that were kinda similar but not exactly the same. I remember one of the girls didn’t like me too much. She kept making underhanded remarks to me. But I was very patient, which I wouldn’t be normally. I just kept smiling and suggesting different outfits. In her attempt to get rid of me, the girl who didn’t like me wandered off to the doll section of the store, picked a few dolls up and tried her hand at voodoo. Of course it didn’t work. She was sitting on the department store’s floor. I asked her what she was doing, she was very frustrated and kept saying things like, “Why didn’t it work?” “It’s supposed to work!” I just kept wandering around close by her browsing through the clothes. Then very non chalantly I told her that she shouldn’t be messing around with stuff like that. I told her that she didn’t know what she was dealing with and what she could be disturbing. I said more things but I don’t remember what I said verbatim; I just remember that I kept telling her in different ways that voodoo was not something to be played with. Then all of a sudden I turned into a voodoo priest, and the little girl was in a closet sitting on a high shelf. I or the priest pointed to her and told her, ” You do not choose to practice voodoo. Voodoo chooses you.” That’s when I woke up. How appropriate. I wasn’t scared when I awoke although it did feel as if I was forced awake, because I was still sleepy.

While I was typing this dream, I made some connections that I didn’t notice before. The twin girls; I’m a gemini. The girl sitting in the closet on the shelf would be like a doll in the closet, which she was trying to use. One thing I failed to mention was some colors. When we were in the department store, we were in the girls section so everything was pink and bright. When we moved to the closet it was dark and black. I guess it’s all really personal. Reading through this blog now, it’s kinda funny. Maybe there are connections or maybe I’m just talking out of my ass!

There was a bit of a ruckus at work a few weeks ago. Apparently we got infected with a computer virus through our email. The “Postcard virus” as it is known sends you an email telling you that someone has sent you a “Hallmark postcard” and that you have to open up the attachment. It is very inviting. Who doesn’t think they are expecting an e-card of some sort? Mine came as bad timing. Our part employee in L.A. decided to quit. During this time, I kept planning on sending him an email of some sort to wish him well. Then I recieved this email; I thought it was from him. I know for sure I opened the email because in the body of the email, there are pictures that did not download. I set my email to be text only. But now I don’t remember if I opened the attachment or not. My laptop is a piece of shit anyways so it’s kinda hard to tell if it’s performing differently. And now I don’t remember if I forwarded it to my regular home email to try and read it.

So that was a few weeks ago. Today, I was cleaning out my inbox and I found an email from May from a student of mine warning me about this virus. What’s worse is that it has totally thrown me off of everything. I’m trying to do some work and I can’t concentrate on it.  I feel like an idiot. I didn’t realize I was that gullible.

Today I woke up early and went shopping…just to make the shopping experience not so ordinary, I decided to see how long I can keep smiling. I arrived at my first stop, parked my car and with my tattoos blaring put on a huge smile and walked in. Now, I point out that I have tattoos because let’s face it people judge and probably for good reason. Historically, people with tattoos have not always been known to lead good clean lives nor are they known for being all that nice and approachble. I continued to browse through the store with that smile on my face, and I realized that just the mere act of smiling put me in a pretty good mood. Although, I did keep getting approached by sales associates asking me if “I’m finding everything okay.” They were most likely wondering, “What the hell is she smiling about?” I went to pay for my things and again the cashier asked if “I found everything okay.” I replied with an enthusiastic, “Yes, I did!You’re sale here is awesome! Thank you for asking!” and continued to smile. He smiled back. When he told me the total, I started to pull out my cash when I realized that I was about $1short and I couldn’t scrounge enough change fast enough. “Oops! Sorry, I guess I’ll have to use my card.” I said and tried to pull out my card quickly. “That’s ok.” he said and rang it up. “Wow! Thanks!” I said and quickly picked up my stuff and left. Now I know, it wasn’t much change that I actually did owe him, but the gesture was nice. At the next store, I walked in and immediately ran into two old women. I nodded to them and said a polite “good morning.” They returned it and went along their merry way. I continued my experiment and wore that smile all through the store. Now, either, it was just way too early in the morning and there wasn’t enough to do for the sales associate or it was just a coincidence that everywhere I was, there she was. I was getting the feeling I was being followed by her and not for a good reason. I looked her in the eye with the smile on my face. She didn’t smile back. Hmm. I couldn’t imagine what was going through her mind. I don’t really carry a purse, so it’s not like I would be able to steal anything effectively. Maybe the smile on my face was creeping her out but like a moth to a bright light, she just was just drawn to it. I looked her up and down. She’s young. I would put her between 17-19 years old. Just by their general nature, teenagers are suspicious of adults. I thought to put her mind to ease by asking her where the jeans are. It took her a few seconds; that’s when I realized not only is she young, but she’s new too. She has no idea what to do. I thanked her for all her help and left the store. Outside the store, I shrugged it off. Not everyone reacts to the smile the same way. I continued my smiling game at the next store. I was able to find some more tops I wanted to try on. In the dressing room, I noticed that one of the blouses had make-up all over it anda button was missing. I didn’t even get to try it on. When I went to make my purchases, I brought over the damaged blouse to the cashier and told her that they may not want to put it back out on the racks and I smiled. “Aww” she said, ” I am so sorry about that. Yeah. Sometimes people can get sloppy.” she said and she smiled. I decided on two more blouses at that store and she gave me a discount. “Cool! Thanks!” I said and left happy with my purchases. At the final store, I was actually looking for something specific. A pair of pants I had bought there previously. I found some that were similar but not the ones that I wanted. I have to give the award for excellent customer service to this girl because she went out of her way to try and provide me the pants that I was looking for, even calling a store in Nebula (??), California for them. She asked if I wanted to order them, and even after all that she did for me, I said no but with a smile on my face. She wrote down the sku# and told me to keep it and if I ever change my mind that I could always order it from the store. I agreed that was a good idea and left the store; smiling. As I got into my car and headed home, I felt a sense of accomplishment. I set a goal, albeit it a strange one and completed it; and I got some positive reactions too. There’s always a reason for the way people reacted to me like 1. it’s their job to provide excellent customer service. So maybe from their perspective, today was nothing new. Maybe more importantly was my perspective and how I was reacting to them. This is still all really brand new to me; interacting with people, being social, and not having these crazy/ violent mood swings. But as I drove away, I felt as if someone had given me a shot of saccharine. I overloaded on the ”sweet stuff” of roses and daises and rainbows and kittens. I sucked my cheeks in as I sucked on a cigarette; I guess those muscles haven’t been used that long in awhile. I turned on the radio and  ”Rage Against  the Machine” was playing. Perfect.

“ Somewhere it must be time for penitence/ Gardening at night is never where.” (REM)

This is a change. I’m not depressed today, nor am I writing about it. I realized, most of my postings are depressing. But right now, I’m “rapid cycling” or experiencing mania. One of my reasons for not wanting to take medications was the possibility that I might lose my “manic episodes”. I didn’t want to lose my “highs”. Most people with bipolar disorder would agree; the “highs” are awesome! But the “lows”…. well….

What’s this like? It’s the best thing ever! I have tons and tons of energy! You could pretty much tell me anything and I will laugh. The whole world is hilarious right now! I want to talk to someone. Anyone! Let’s talk! My mind is going a million miles a minute; so is my mouth as you can tell with the use of hyperbole. I keep getting up and bothering people. I got so much done today. I am constantly cleaning, organizing, and re-organizing. I almost ran 5 miles today, non-stop. And I wasn’t even out of breath or tired. I just had to stop because my legs started to get sore. Bartending at the wine bistro today, I had a party of 14 come in right before my shift ended.Normally, I hate waiting on such a large group of people; they’re un-organized, everyone wants to pay separately, they’re demanding and rude. But I went out of my way to provide excellent customer service. And I did! I was very patient with them, even though they had no idea what they were talking about when it came to wine. I catered to their every request with a smile on my face. Even as I was serving them, I realized how I was acting and how they were reacting to me. As I was leaving, the whole party said, “Bye Vivien! Thank you!” It felt really good. I wish I could be like this all the time. I’m fun to be around, I’m witty and entertaining. I am the life of the party. But I know, like all parties, they have to end.

It’s been awhile since I’ve experienced mania like this. There could be a couple of reasons for this; 1. My doctor changed my medication again and it’s triggered a manic episode or 2. The new medications aren’t working. It’s taken every ounce of my will to sit here and complete this posting. I have way too much energy to just sit and concentrate on this…so I won’t.

Of course it doesn’t make any sense; it doesn’t have to.

“Tell me why?/ I don’t like Mondays/ Tell me why?/ I don’t like Mondays/ I want to shoot the whole day down.” (Boomtown Rats)

I’m never in the moment. I don’t enjoy myself. It’s only after the situation, when I replay the events back in my head that I realize how much fun I did have. But it’s not fair. I feel robbed of it every time. The only time I ever feel like I’m in the moment and really “experiencing” a feeling is when I’m depressed. And right now, I’m depressed. It’s crazy how quickly it happened. Just about 10 minutes ago, the TV was on and I was planning out my day. All of a sudden a huge wave of sadness just engulfed me. I don’t know why. I tried my best to ignore it or shake it off. I continued to flip through the TV channels; too late…it’s taken over. Most people have reasons to be sad or “triggers” if you want to call them that. I remember when I used to work at a coffee shop and I had a customer who was upset with their order. I was upset because they took out their frustration on me. But my manager told me (bless her heart!), “Vivien, it’s just coffee. If getting the wrong the coffee drink is the worst thing that happens in their day, then I would think, they had a pretty good fucking day. Don’t let it ruin your  day.” And I didn’t. I had to have someone put it into perspective for me. But it’s not just getting the wrong coffee drink this time. It’s nothing; but I wish it were something so I could put that into perspective. Now I’m paralyzed. I’ve rationalized every reason NOT to do the things that I want to do today; and so I won’t. It’s a never ending, frustrating cycle. If I don’t accomplish anything today, I’ll feel guilty and more depressed. But I don’t have enough energy to actually motivate myself enough to do anything. I hate living like this. Always waiting for the right moment or the right mood, the right feeling; what kind of life is that? How can I deal with this if I don’t know what’s wrong? Until I acknowledge that which is making me depressed or until this feeling passes; I’m stuck in depression limbo. And in my experience, it could be quite some time till I leave;  I might as well get myself some coffee.