Thursday, December 21, 2006

On goals

Okay, here's what I want to accomplish next year.

1. If my parents do, indeed, move out (like they've been planning ever since we moved here almost ten years ago), get into NYU or UIC.
2. Get an electric guitar and become kickass at it.
3. Teach myself to sing.
4. Start a band.
5. Finish my novel/project Ripple. I have to finish sometime.
6. Get something published.
7. Get into a relationship that won't fail miserably/be more "exciting and passionate" or whatever shit/be more of a "girl".
8. Be more mature.
9. I dunno, see if I can drop about 50lbs. Ha.
10. Have way more fun.

These are merely goals though, I refuse to label them as "resolutions". That's like fucking kiss of death. So, I'll at least accomplish goal #2 by blowing whatever money I get this Christmas and buying that electric guitar I saw in Pentagrama the other day for $130. Maybe my dad'll pity me and buy me the amp. I could also try teaching myself to sing pretty soon. I have the advantage that I'm the opposite of tone deaf. Hell, I can tune an acoustic guitar by ear. Maybe if I apply that same natural knowledge to my voice, I can at least get to the point that my voice sounds nice, and I can pretend to sing. I could always sound like the girl who does Nana O.'s singing voice in the anime.

As for everything else, I'll just take them as they come. I don't want to let the year slip by, like I've felt this year has. Here's hoping 2007's better than 2006, folks.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

On feelings

I'd already posted this over in Sersapiente, but I don't know if anyone who frequents my blog goes there as well. It's a small bit of a story that came to me on a whim the other day. For something short, I feel it's well-written, most especially because it's in Spanish (and I tend to write mostly in English). I have no idea whether I'll expand on it in the future, seeing as I have three novels that have yet to be finished, and two of which are full-blown projects (since both will be part of trilogies). Still, I liked it a lot, and I feel like sharing.


Hace ya algunos años que te he visto. Para mí, quizás, no parece tanto. Éramos niños. O, para decirlo mejor, yo era un niño. Tú ya eras casi mujer. De cualquier manera, disfruté de mi tiempo contigo. Me acuerdo la primera vez que nos conocimos. Sentí como si yo fuera un héroe grande, salvándote del mal en ese momento. Luego, te prometí que te traería la paz que tanto deseabas para, no tan solo tu reino ni para la mía, sino para el mundo completo. Te prometí que pronto, todo se resolvería. Quizás mis palabras, palabras de un niño de doce años, te sonaron como promesas vacías, pero las hize con toda la convicción que mi ser tenía.

Pero hice esas promesas para tí, para tí nada más. Eras un ángel para mí, alguien que deseaba lo mejor para todos, sin importar de dónde eran or quiénes eran. Mientras viajamos con los demás, nos reímos de nuestros chistes, nos sentamos de noche para ver las estrellas, me dejaste llorar cuando conocí lo que le había pasado a mi padre...cuando conocí lo que realmente deseaba mi hermano mayor.

De vez en cuando, leo sus cartas. Me hacen sonreír de la manera que ninguna otra carta puede hacer. Me siento bien al saber de sus aventuras por el mar, libre para hacer lo que deseas, cuando lo desea. Sin me está iendo su cara, sus expresiones, hasta su voz. Quisiera estar contigo, pero mi lugar es aquí, en mi reino, defendiendo la paz que traímos hace años. Quizás también haz encontrado que su calor es suficiente. Pero no me está mal. Si estás feliz, entonces seré feliz para ti también.

Me miro en el espejo, y casi ni reconozco la cara que me mira hacia atrás, la cara de un hombre casi, líder de un imperio. Quisiera verte, aunque sea la última vez, para recapturar las facciones de tu cara. Pero eres mejor fuera de aquí, libre y sin límites.

Aunque quizás yo sólo era un compañero, alguien con quien compartiste tu amistad, siempre te amaré, de lejos. Viva tu vida lo más que puedas, y seas feliz. Si hay dioses, espero que me hagan ese favor, por lo menos.

If you actually enjoy my writing, go take a look at what I've got posted at FictionPress. My first complete novel's up over there, as well as one of my two projects, and a plethora of short stories/random essays.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

On setting your path

Ha sido la polémica entre mi pai y yo desde hace años. Creo que desde que puedo acordarme de algo, siempre ha tenido una fiebre con empezar su propio negocio. It's changed over the years, what he wants his small business to be, but it never fails for my dad to come up with some stupid new plan of starting a business. And of course, he tries to drag me and my brother along. But usually, just me. He's wanted to start a cleaning business, a car repair business, an air-conditioner repair business, a translation business, a medical record business...the list goes on and on. He even went to Instituto de Banca y Comercio for a degree in air-conditioner repair (and refrigerators too, I don't remember).

Now, I wouldn't really mind these escapades of his so much if he'd just find people that actually share his interest in this sort of thing...excluding myself, my brother and my mother, since none of us care. But ever since we moved here, he's basically been forcing both my brother and I to "help" him with these things. By "help", I mean make us do all the work that needs to get done, without so much as even asking us if we're even interested, much less if we even want to do this. His excuse is that our mother doesn't want to help him, even though he thinks she should so she can be her own employer. News flash, mi querido padre, my mother never has, and never will be, interested in business. I don't know why you even bother.

He's been bothering my brother less and less about it over the years, mainly because he realizes that my brother's an artist, and artists usually don't care for business. On a side note, my brother confided in me that he did want to start his own business someday...just so long as our dad never realizes it. So this leaves my dad with me, his youngest kid and the smart one of the family. Lo and behold though, I'm exactly like mom. I hate business, I hate the idea of running one, of owning one, of all of it. My dad has been trying to get me interested over the years by saying that if I work for myself, I don't have to respond to anyone for anything, that I should major in business, ect ect. I started out as a Theater major, and will now be a Radio major. He tried telling me I could start my own theater. Now he'll probably tell me that I can start my own radio station. He fails to realize that I don't care.

And now, I have a huge pile of mom's old books here. She wanted us to donate them to a library. Instead, the "lightbulb" in dad's head goes off, and he decides to sell them. Fine. I ignore him whenever he talks to me about it for over a week. Then he gives them all to me, and tells me to write up all of them as a list, so we can sell them more easily. Fine. And then, last night, my worst fears came true: he said that this was going to be "our" business, that this was going to be my "part-time", and that whatever he earned, I earned. There's a problem though. I don't care. The only reason I've been working on the list all day today is because a. if I don't it'll piss him off; and b. if I don't even start today, it'll piss him off.

I sincerely think he was a failed business man in a past life. Why else would he be like this, honestly? Being a believer of Chinese astrology, it might also have to do with the complete and total incompatibility of our signs. Rabbits and Roosters should apparently run from each other as though the other carries an incurable plague. This doesn't help anything at all. I don't fault my dad for being a hard-worker, or for providing for my family for forever. Thank God for him. But I really do think that he's voluntarily blind to what really interests me and what I'm passionate about. I want to be a best-selling writer and a radio guru and maybe an actress. Better yet, I secretly want to be a famous rock star. On the rare occasion I talked to him about acting, it's almost never about how I like it. It's usually about how he has this friend of a friend of a cousin who's making a movie of sorts. Or how I should start my own theater once I get my third Ph.D. (because he's also constantly telling me I should get my Master's and Ph.D., neither of which I care about, not until I get my Bachelor's). He probably doesn't intend it to be viewed that way, but it makes him come off as kind of selfish, from my view.

What inspires my passion? The thought of starring on a Broadway play in front of a sold-out theater. The thought of performing live with my famous band in a sold-out arena. The thought of having my first novel become a best-seller and doing book signings, and hearing people give me their individual praises on my writing. Being an awesome radio guru and being cool and mainstream like that. Those are the things I like, those are the things that, now that I sit to think about it, are the things I've always loved. I've always loved writing, I've always loved music, and I didn't realize it till high school, but I love acting as well (and am talented to boot). I don't care to start a business or to be my own employer. I just want to live out my life the way I see fit. Even if I become none of the things I mentioned, it doesn't bother me to just finish college, get a normal job, do normal things, then retire at sixty-something and be done with it. But, I'm afraid that dad might just be trying to live his own failed fantasies through my brother and me, most especially me (since, as it were, we are also kind of similar).

Still, all I can do is write these book lists, hope that he'll lose interest, or, if I lose my temper, tell him that I don't care to participate in this venture of his. If I have kids though, I don't ever want to live my dreams through them. I want them to do what inspires them and what makes them happy, even if I don't agree with it all that much. When you do something that makes you passionate, it makes you happy. That's how I felt whenever I did acting in high school, or when I took guitar classes, or when I started and finished my first novel earlier this year. Striving to do better and to be the best is what makes me passionate, and it's what makes most people happy.

For the record, I'm not done with these book lists. I'll do them after dinner. My back hurts from being hunched over. At the least, I'm two-thirds done, so it won't be so painful or take so long.

Also, I really would change the size font, but I like it this way. I already tried it slightly bigger, but it just takes away the flavor of the current layout. But not to worry, when I feel like making a new layout in a few months, the font will change.

Monday, December 11, 2006

On cutting the strings that bind us

I've gotta say, I love December here in Puerto Rico. The temperature drops to such a nice level that it feels comfortable. I always know that Christmas is officially afoot when a nice breeze starts blowing through my window, the one next to me. Or well, y'know, when stores and malls put out insane sales that turn people into savage animals almost. And for those that think it only happens on our fair island, fear not, it happens in the US too (and at times, is far worse). Seriously, I'm going to find the bastard that came up with the concept of "After Thanksgiving Sale" and punch them in the groin. If the person is male. If the person is female, then I'll punch their breasts.

Very recently, a girl that I spent a summer with, when I was about four or five, messaged me on MySpace, asking if she remembered who she was. She was my grandmother's neighbor, in the barrio of Minillas in San Germán, and some time later, she would move to Sabana Grande. She's some years older than me, I think by about four. That summer, we spent every day playing and doing random things. It was really fun and it made that summer much more exciting than it might've been. Our friendship could've gone a couple of different ways from there. We might've kept hanging out if my father had decided for sure that we were going to stay in San Germán. I remember that my parents even took me to Colegio San José to enroll me in kindergarten. If my family was, instead, returning to Germany (because my father was still in the Army), or if we were to move to Conneticut with my father's youngest brother, then we would've just kept writing to each other. As it turns out, we ended up in Conneticut, mainly because my father left the Army, so my friend and I became pen pals.

After awhile, though, we finally stopped writing, since we were each going in our separate ways. Though I'd think about her from time to time, I figured she might've forgotten all about me. Now, here's were things go a little "wait, wow, really?" Last year, when I was but a Sagrado freshman, slightly confused but not entirely lost (and I thank high school for that), among the many people I met, one of them goes by the name Paco. I suppose the relationship the two of us have are that of brother-sister, kind of. Anyway, the point was, I heard him talking about his girlfriend, who lives in Arizona, a couple of times, but I didn't pay much attention (perhaps because I was trying to sleep in between classes). Later, last Christmas, we had a quickie conversation over the phone, and he says that he's in Sabana Grande, spending time with his girlfriend and her family, who lives there. Though I was curious, I still didn't ask.

Then, I noticed on his MySpace that his #1 was a girl named Zeliann. The name hit me, because that was the name of my friend from years gone by. I had wanted to ask a bit more about her to Paco, but I kept putting it off because I felt that I might be wrong. Then, finally, a week ago, she messages me. And it turns out that I was right; this was the same girl I'd met so many years ago, who was dating someone we both met in completely different ways. I guess you can say I was more than a little surprised. I mean, this is one of those wild coincidences that almost never happen, and yet serve to make the world fill just a little smaller than it might be.

I think that it's a little ironic, though. Since I moved to Puerto Rico when I was ten, I'd done my best to cut the ties of my past. I'd only recently started thinking about it more when I played Final Fantasy XII, and learned about the character Balthier. Balthier is the sort of character that appears to be calm, cool and collected almost all the time, dashing and charming and not the type to permit others to tell him what to do or where to go. Yet, deeper down, he shows remorse for the path he's taken, and an intense desire to run from the path, to cut those strings for good, and instead, his past comes running after him, and is clearly the faster one. I think that's what's happening to me now.

In fact, now that I think about it, why am I trying to cut my past out? I can't even remember the reason. Maybe I just hated the person I used to be, and just wanted to get away from everything that had become attached to my memory of the person. If that's the case, though, then I'm always going to look for ways to severe ties, because I'm not particularly fond of who I am now. Hence, the entire premise and background of this blog, in title, sub-title and what my lil' sidebar now says. I'm trying to fix myself, but at the same time, not really. I simply just put out my usual self on, the one that's aloof and independent and rebellious and absent-minded, and I go about my day to day life. Yet, if and when the opportunity presents itself again, and this time when I'm more mature to handle it, I know that I'd try to cut my past out again, and this time for good.

But maybe, just maybe, I feel this way because I've already learned that home really is where the heart is, and doesn't need to be tied to a specific place or events. If I can say with conviction that my heart is content, wherever it is that I am and whatever I happen to be doing, then I'm home. I think, also, that I'd like to find someone to call home, even if I'm greatly cynical towards that concept at the moment (since I tried and failed miserably at that). Still, maybe I just need to keep on going forward in life, not looking back at the past that will always tie me with a string, until I find the solution that works best for me.

I like the December breeze here a lot, almost as much as the beaches here. Maybe that's home for me. I also plan on seeing Zeliann when she's visiting family in Sabana Grande. We sure have grown up.

On an unrelated side note, I'm still tinkering with my layout. In other words, I need to put in the footer, and make the text a little bigger for the visually impaired. :) I made a more comprehensive about me page.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

On finding our voice

As I flipped through my friends-page on LiveJournal this morning, sleepy from having gone to bed past 1am (I was at a Ragnarok Online marriage -- don't ask), I stopped scrolling all of a sudden. At that moment, I'd just been hit with a question. Why do people blog? Why do people keep journals on the Internet for all to see and read? I mean, really, is there a point? Writing a blog means you're expressing yourself on the Internet. But anyone who's been using the Internet since it became popular in the mid-90's will know that trends come and go faster than you can even type the word "trend". Plus, it's the Internet. It's as big as the universe itself almost. Finding the means to have your voice heard is both difficult and time-consuming. So anyone has to wonder why even bother.

During the time I've spent blogging, I've seen all types of blogs. I've seen blogs of 15 year old emo kids who can't spell to save their lives and usually make 8 entries a day (if not more). I've seen blogs that stream video of themselves. I've seen blogs that pretend to be the blogs of someone's pet. Basically, if there's a subject to write about, a blog also exists about it. It's similar to Rule #34, which is, there's porn of it, no exceptions. I imagine that Rule #34 a. would be, there's also a blog of it, no exceptions. Emo kids who don't do a damn asides cry virtual tears about how their lives suck and how no one understands? There's a blog. Bee hives? There's a blog. That old VCR of yours? If there isn't one of it yet, there will be. Yet, of all the countless blogs that exist out there, precious few will ever be known by a large amount of people.

So then, why? Good question. Why am I even writing? Another good question. I think the most appropriate answer is that we all want to have our voices heard, however insignificant it may be. 15 year old emo kids want to embarrass themselves by crying virtual tears. People want to tape themselves and get a chance to have someone see them (I'd do a video post if I had a video camera, for the record). Hell, maybe pets want to keep blogs themselves, so their owners do it for them. Let's face it, how many of us will ever publish the book of our lives, much less even write it? Let's pretend for a moment that I myself am an aspiring novelist. Anyway, maybe Internet blogging gives us all a chance to have our thoughts and voices heard, however insignificant it may be. In the process, those of us who were wondering where our voices were find them lying buried deep in the ground, and bring them to the surface. Or else we find how different our voices have become over the course of time.

That is the general blogging community. But what about me? Why the hell do I blog? I mean, I maintain about five different blogs. The two blogs that are of most importance at the moment are my LiveJournal and this blog, Can't you just fix me? One is my personal journal, the one in which I couldn't care less if I sound like an angsty 19 year old, and where I frequently display affection for my fandoms (it's the former). The other is the blog in which I write for sentences on end about anything that I think is important, in the most entertaining (or sarcastic, whichever) way I can possibly think of (it's the latter). Occasionally, I write some angst here too, but it's only when I feel I should. One blog is the one I only want certain people to read, because I've been writing in it since I was 16, hence there's immaturity and (shudder) emo (it's the former). The other is the blog that I want to become well-known someday (someday), and it's the latter. But why bother?

Well, I won't go on about why I keep my LiveJournal. As for this one...well, at first, it wasn't even intentional. I'd just read an article in El Nuevo Día about "how to blog" (snicker) around May of this year, and I decided that there shouldn't even be how-to guides on how to keep and maintain blogs. So I made this, with the intention of making each and every entry thought-provoking, even if it only a sentence or two was written. And here I am now, still writing. I must truly think that people enjoy reading sarcastic wisdom from someone who's barely lived for two decades (and only remembers one and a half of it). But see, I don't want my voice to just be "heard". I don't want to just "find" my voice either. I found my voice in high school, thank you, acting. I want to be listened to. When you hear something, you simply hear the random noise it's making. But when you listen to it, you're able to understand what it is that's trying to be said, be it someone's voice, the wind going by your ears, or the muffled ticking of your watch. It's not just random noise anymore; it's a voice. And I want my voice to not be random noise, I want it to be listened to and distinguished from other voices and singled out. I want people to stop and think, "hey, she actually says something somewhat important, let me stop and read this thing for awhile". If all my life, all people do is hear me, but not listen to me, then I've utterly failed.

Of course, maybe this correlates to the fact that I hold the lofty goal of becoming famous. Or maybe I'm just a 19 year old who thinks she knows everything and is really just an immature brat. I don't really care. Even if I'm never listened to, and simply heard, at the end of the day, I like writing here. It's an outlet. And I seem to be moderately entertaining, since I have a small (albeit loyal) audience.

In other news, I managed to completely redesign the layout of this blog, so it looks spiffy now. I even made the header myself. I feel awesome.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

On who we are

If there is anything I dislike reading or hearing about the most, it's when people like politicians, writers or professors, people who believe themselves to be more sophisticated and to be superior to the "common" people, write about how Puerto Rico, and the people who live in it, have no culture. Or, worse yet, when they write or say about how we have no identity.

I will give them the point of perhaps being partially right. We seemingly have no culture. Centuries of being a colony will do that to any place. We haven't had much of a chance to come into our own. That, however, doesn't mean that we have no culture whatsoever. The people who say that have, perhaps, been living here far too long to make that kind of acertation. Of course we have a culture. Any kind of society, no matter if it be a nation or a colony or a territory, has to have a culture. In fact, here's the definition of the word "culture":

cul·ture /ˈkʌltʃər/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[kuhl-cher] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation noun, verb, -tured, -tur·ing.
the quality in a person or society that arises from a concern for what is regarded as excellent in arts, letters, manners, scholarly pursuits, etc.
that which is excellent in the arts, manners, etc.


Culture (from the Latin cultura stemming from colere, meaning "to cultivate"), generally refers to patterns of human activity and the symbolic structures that give such activity significance. Different definitions of "culture" reflect different theoretical bases for understanding, or criteria for evaluating, human activity.


Though we are perhaps not known for things such as literature, art or music (rather, we are known for boxers, beauty queens and rappers), this doesn't mean that we, as a culture, have not produced significant amounts of cultural advances. What about authors such as Luis Rafael Sánchez or Alejandro Tapia y Rivera? What about actors like Raúl Julia or Benicio del Toro? Or painters like Obed Gómez and José Campeche? Are you people trying to tell me that what they've achieved is nothing because we are a mere colony? Or that it's not enough? If it's not enough, then when will it be enough?

Personally, though, I believe that the problem is that, most of the people who tell us that we lack culture are the ones who either believe that the United States is more cultured, or they believe that we have been crushed by having been a U.S. colony over the decades. To me, however, the U.S. aren't any more cultured than we are. In fact, if we are to compare, the U.S. is just as cultured as we are. The U.S. hasn't been around for many centuries to begin with, and they are younger than we are. This is my personal opinion, but having been born in the U.S. and having lived there for about ten years, I don't see how we can't possibly have a culture and the U.S. has far too much. I think we're on equal ground, actually.

This opinion of mine correlates to my opinion of how we seemingly have no identity. I once thought that we Puerto Ricans had no identity either. I've been proven wrong, though, and it was when I was on the plane home from Chicago. As the plane landed, all I could think of was, "this is home, I'm home". Anywhere you go in the world, if you find a fellow Puerto Rican, you'll know it automatically, and you'll fraternize and talk and mutually miss the mother land. We take our pride for our home wherever we go. I hardly see that in Americans, to be perfectly honest. To them, it doesn't really matter that much. But to most Puerto Rican who move outside the island, it's almost like they're simply visiting the outside world. We remember things like how it always rains in August, or family get-togethers at the beach where everyone pitches in to bring beer and food, or the Fiestas Patronales, or most of all, the way we celebrate Christmas.

I think that we Puerto Ricans, along with many other people from other countries, exhibit the trait that I believe Americans have lacked for a long time, and that is pride in ourselves. Yes, our economy's a mess. Yes, our politicians are about as diplomatic as 800 pound gorillas. And yes, we still have problems with things like poverty, unemployment and education, among other things. But those of us who truly believe in who we are as people also believe that if we continue to take pride in ourselves, if we continue to make good literature and music and art, if we keep taking strides internationally in the music and movie industry, if we work together to fix our recurring problems, these are the people who make our culture, and make it even stronger. To say we are culture-less, to say we are color-less even, is to say that we have no pride in who we are, and that just isn't really true at all.

For those who think that the solution to our problems is to become a U.S. state, will that really fix everything, when we are so opposite from the U.S. to even be a state? For those who think that becoming an independant country will solve our problems, how will that work when our economy's in shambles? For those who think that staying the way we are, a mere colony, is the best cop-out, are you truly content with staying stagnant for however long? I'm not trying to make you question your beliefs, whatever beliefs you may have, but solutions come when we look at both the big picture and the smaller details. If we want to prove that our pride in ourselves is not for nothing, then we have to work to make it so.

In the meantime, quit writing about how we're a black hole of degradation and go get some coquito. It's fucking Christmas time.

Friday, December 08, 2006

On the march of time

No, seriously, this is why I really need to get back to updating this blog at least three times a week. I ignore it, and then I have the problem of thinking of how best to organize my thoughts in a somewhat cohesive manner (even though I myself am not a very cohesive person 99.9% of the time). See, I don't think I have ADD...but I do recognize that I have a short attention span. So unless I'm focusing all of my brain, it's impossible for me to be cohesive. Right now, I'm writing this as I write in my LiveJournal and as I consider where I should go next in Final Fantasy XII.

But, then again, there's a good place to start, Final Fantasy XII. For those of you in the audience who play video games and play RPGs (all three of you), you're more than likely familiar with the Final Fantasy series. Most people say it's the best series out there with the best games, ect ect, but that is not my opinion. Personally, the best one (and perhaps the most beautiful RPG ever created) is Final Fantasy VI, for the SNES (with a PS1 remake and soon a GBA remake). FFVII is overrated, FFVIII had a stupid plot, and FFX had crappy characters with a plot that I hate. I don't have anything on FFIX, I love that game. Now, since FFXII had been in development for five years, I had my doubts on this game. But wow, was I wrong to doubt it. I think I love this game almost as much as I do FFVI. It's beautifully made graphically, with the CGs being far better than the CG in FFVII: Advent Children. And the about intelligent and cohesive. The characters are all likeable, and not a single one has made me cringe in a "oh sweet Jesus what is he/she thinking?!"

In terms of mechanics, it plays like an offline MMORPG. This is both good and bad. It's good because it means that battles are very quick and rely on efficiency. This is also bad, because it's as hard as an MMO. I've spent 30+ hours on the game, and I'm not even half-way through, because I need to devote half of my time to leveling up and getting loot to sell to buy spiffy equipment and weapons. I wouldn't have such a problem with gil (FF's currency) if enemies dropped it along with loot, but sadly, that's not the case. As for character's stats and such, all six party members are more or less even, but each character is more suiteable for one role than another. This also applied to weapons (I can't imagine having Penelo using guns, something Balthier uses as default). As for difficulty, this game is not the cakewalk FFX was for about 80% of the time. You will break a sweat trying to beat these bosses, starting from the very first one. Strangely, this doesn't bother be, because I spend $50 for a game, it better damn well be worth my time. So, overall, it comes SO close to topping FFVI as my all-time favorite, but I need to beat the game to decide for sure on that.

Asides wasting time on Final Fantasy XII, life has been moving at a good pace for me. Much of my time has been divided between getting everything together for the January semester in Sagrado, looking for a part-time job in the San Juan area (specifically, Plaza las Américas) and keeping the house together while the family's out during the day. In Sagrado, where I was once a Theater major, I'm now majoring in Producción y Mercadeo para la Radio. I realized that, as much as I love acting and the theater, I'll be living in a box with the amount of pay I'd get from doing it. Radio is something I both like and can give me a steady salary once I'm finished. But I do plan on getting a minor in Proyección Escénica, so my Theater classes won't go to waste. I don't know, but between you and me, I find it strange that I study in Sagrado. It's the most expensive university on the island, and hence, is a haven for rich kids and whatnot. The student body and the atmosphere are the exact opposite of me, which makes me wonder why I didn't just study in UPR in Río Piedras. Maybe I like being weird. That, and the education in Sagrado is pretty damn good anyway.

As for the part-time, I've applied at Borders, Claire's, Journey's, The Children's Place and PacSun. I already had an interview with Borders, and they informed me that they'd call me in January, when I said I was available, to tell me if I've been hired or not. Everywhere else, I'm still waiting. If I don't get hired, I guess I'll just do work-study, because part of the reason I want the job while I study is to help pay off my studies (plus spending cash). I think I might get work-study even if I get hired, because the more I earn to pay off whatever I owe, the better it'll be for my parents. If it ends up like that...I'm more than likely not to even be able to relax till Thanksgiving next year (since I plan on taking summer class as well). Still, I won't really mind, because I like to be busy and do different things.

Another thing I'll be doing (God forbid if I can find the time) is working out at night at Sagrado's gym. I've been working out almost ever since I've come back home, since I realized that the only way to stay the weight I am now (160lbs) is to work out, since I'm actually eating food now. Personally, I'm lazy and I hate sweating, but I'm doing it because I should. I want to get back in shape, at any rate. In terms of what I do 'round the Internet, I've been detaching myself from my usual forums and such, mainly because I won't have time for it anymore, and because I want a disconnect. I still do plenty of blogging though. My LiveJournal is the one I usually update with most frequency, since that's my personal journal. My other blogs vary. I'll be updating this one more often, as I come up with more things to write/rant about. I guess I just haven't had the motivation for it lately, and I simply felt the need to update this blog's audience on how my life goes.

As for relationships and all that, I'm not quite sure what to say. I've got a date practically set up next month when I move back to Sagrado's dorms, which will involve seeing a movie, then probably hooking up and having sex. The guy's cool, and I've known him since 2005, when I started in Sagrado. But there're a couple of problems. The first, smallest problem is the fact that I kind of like another friend of mine, who (as my infamous luck would have it) is taken. I'm not the type of bitch to steal guys who are taken (though I am a bitch in many other aspects), so I'm trying to content myself with staying good friends with the guy. The second, also pretty small problem, is that, with the guy I've got the date with, I'm not sure where I want to go with it, if anywhere at all. I had the same problem the first time around (yes, I did go out on a date with him previously).

And the last, very very big problem, is my current state of unrequited love with my ex. See, I thought I'd be over him by now, because I've always been over my previous ex's after a few weeks. But, here I am, almost two months later, and I can't seem to get over him, hard as I try. I've got a very bad case of unrequited love here, and I'm not sure what to do about it. The main problem here, though, is that I want to be over him, so I can stop being cynical, bitter and (sometimes) depressed (since I'm none of these, most people will tell you I'm a very sweet person). But, at the same time, I want to hold on anyway because I still love him very much, like we humans tend to do at times with people. It's even harder now, since I learned, through a mutual friend of ours, that he doesn't seem to be fine with the break-up either. I thought he would be, since his reasons for ending the relationship were because he didn't feel passion for me anymore, and that he didn't want a serious relationship anymore. I figured he'd be having the time of his life. To learn that he's feeling hurt too...I can't quite describe it.

Finally, last but not least, new music recommendations! Or just recommendation. I've been listening to a lot of The Red Paintings lately. They're an Australian band, and I saw them live at first when I saw The Dresden Dolls at The Vic in Chicago. I'd been meaning to download music by them, but only recently did I see anything on LimeWire. They're amazing, they're the exemplification of the experimental genre, mainly for their usage of visual art in both their CD covers and their live shows. When I saw them live, they were dressed as Japanese geishas, squids and ghosts. And their music is beautiful. I keep listening to their track called Walls, since they played it live. It still gives me the same feeling, the feeling of just being lifted from your body and getting lost. I also recommend World Leader Pretend. It's great indie rock.

I believe that's the majority of what I intended to express. I now leave you all with this.

Come on, it's cute! The moogles in FFXII are adorable. I wish I could ask for a live one for Christmas, but they're not real...