It’s a while’s drive to San José from LA. But when you love to explore, the journey can be really amazing. Especially if you’re driving up the beautiful coast of California! Here’s the log of our trip at each stop…
It’s 5 past 8, standing patiently in a long line of general admission cat enthusiasts. We’re on the list; very important peoples. When we finally get to the door, they check off our names, gave us 21+ bands and a free drink stamp – not coincidently in the shape of a cat. Up many flights of rugged stairs, anticipation shakes me.. Except that could have been the loud music bouncing off the walls and my inability to climb in heels.
I don’t know what I was expecting when I entered my old, improved home. Ten years of abandonment.. Did I really expect it not to change? My walls are not the light pink I picked out to match my dog’s fur. There is no tall pinewood armoire-type desk weighed down by a clunky silver computer screen equipped with Windows 98 and a Shel Silverstein poem collection CD-Rom. There are no green stars scattered aimlessly above my bed that glow when I turn off the lights.
I kept staring. She stared in return. When I blinked, she blinked right back – delayed, but twice as hard. The same, but different. Stood slouched – almost hunched over. She wore the same outfit as me, but it didn’t seem to fit her the same way. I tucked my shirt into my trousers, she did the same. It looked better on me than it did her. Her hair was tangled. I could tell because it looked just like mine used to. Hers was more voluptuous than mine ever was.
I do not call myself a writer. I believe that, in order to call myself a writer, I must at least be climbing steeply towards my peak. My “peak” would be profound literacy and solid comprehension skills, a strong ability to string powerful words together to create understanding through description and narration. I’m convinced I may have at least the artistic skills to be a writer, but I need to learn and practice more to enhance and perfect my capabilities.
This post (and its title) is in response to an article titled, ’22 Lessons From Stephen King On How To Be A Great Writer’ written by Maggie Zhang.
It’s a word I learned in high school. At the time, I always lived in the future. I almost never thought about things in the past I’d miss or take for granted. The only things I would bring to the present were memories of running around in the street, dancing with friends I never saw again, playing games we didn’t know how to play. When I learned there was such a word to describe the urge to go back into those pictures we saw in a book, back in time to a place where things were just how it should always be, I suddenly realized what I let slip away. Through my fingers, into my ears, out the mouth! I didn’t try to capture those moments – I just kept walking and never saw them pass..
Yesterday, I helped run a booth at the Hollywood Farmer’s Market with my producer (OutdatedDemocracy). Our location grabbed a lot of foot traffic, and a lot of sun. Being our first time doing something like this, we were not fully prepared for the types of people we met and how to engage them. Despite this, we actually did a good job helping people to better understand our mission and we learned from their opinions and the way the day went.
On Saturday, I was invited to go to a conference for a huge international Christian church. It would be an understatement if I said I was a little skeptical, but interested nevertheless. Whilst I wondered around the Pasadena Conference Hall, I had thoughts about my being there and how much of an outsider I was and felt – it’s not my typical crowd, I won’t lie. As I pondered, I thought about the fact that this experience could help educate myself about the world that surrounds me. If I got nothing out of it, I had hoped I would at least learn something new.. And I did.
We set off on Christmas day. From the valley to Needles, we drove through the sunset and into the dark clouds. Our friends waited at the motel where we ate small sandwiches, drank wine, and fell asleep before midnight. Morning came fast. The roaring of the winds shook the fragile walls of our room. Outside, trees were rocking vigorously from side to side. We went to a nearby café to fill up for the road. Pancakes filled me to the brim and I felt nauseous. And off we went! On the road again to the Grand Canyon. Over the boarder, we traveled quickly through the shifting winds of the open plains. For a quick rest, we stopped at a very interesting truck stop. Behind the innocent general store, was a brightly-colored building that read, “Big Rig Doll House – Gentleman’s Club”. It was the coolest thing I ever saw. Take a look for yourself –
Yesterday (Oct 2), we traveled to Koreatown to stand before the Chinese Consulate in attempt to urge Xi Jinping to make ivory hunting illegal, as he pledged he would. “Show us your timeline!” They cried. When we arrived, many citizens gathered to discuss the ideals of the cause and how irate they were that humans could be so blind and dismissive of the torture these poor animals are going through. “EXTINCTION 2025!” A poster read.