we painted my old room today. the walls are a kind of cream/orange color; the ceiling is white. the ceiling was the hardest. i painted it with a brush. it's completely different when you use a brush versus a roller. with a brush, you need thin watery paint. and you paint two coats each time in different directions. if the paint is thick, the second coat will remove the first coat. with roller you need the paint thick cause you get a better cover and it goes faster. i still need to do a third coat on the ceiling. that would just make it a lot nicer. and then we are changing the carpets tomorrow. hopefully someone will come by and finish the job by the end of the day. the carpets have not been changed in 25 years. i was only a year old when we moved to this house. all in all that was a successful project. well, if the carpet part goes well.


my dad was telling me that he would never paint the room this way. he was talking about how you should properly do this and that. and that it would probably take him 10 days, or more, and he would do a perfect job. he is right. the last time he painted these rooms was 17 years ago. i remember how long it took and that it came out spotless. but it took another 17 years and my imperfectness to paint these rooms again. i guess sometimes being imperfect at least gets the job done. and by my standards the place looks pretty good. i would have no problem living in that room.

there are things that never change. or five years is just too short to change them. there are people i meet, and i feel like i never left them. the emotions run deep, the feelings are intact...

i like it this way.

dwelling over the past

i remember that the first time we talked about relationships and that one might get involved emotionally and sexually with other people, i totally freaked out. i was not able to sleep for a couple of nights. i even almost left him; to me that was unbearable, i could not imagine such a thing. i was 20 years old and i've always been opinionated. i was not very experienced at all...

it was only less than three years later that it happened...i fell for someone else while i was still in love with him. i've never been so confused in my whole life, not even when i immigrated to another country. i was sexually drawn to the other guy like a maniac and so emotionally attached to him that my life was meaningless without his presence. i couldn't understand how some one can love two people at the same time: a love so different and so similar at the same time. i could not make a decision. i couldn't say no to the sexual experience that was like nothing before; he made me feel alive. before i go see him, my blood would pump faster than ever; the anticipation of being touched would make me run from the cab to his door. he helped me enter the realm of womanhood. and i couldn't say no to a love that was such a big part of my identity. he had helped me become an adult, he had helped me to free myself from the dogmatism that surrounded me. he made me a better me.

and then he showed me how he meant what he said that night...i almost didn't believe it's possible...he thought me to be myself, to be free, and to do what i believe is right. i will always, always love him for that. how can i not?

home

i'm here. it took a while, a long while. it wasn't any over-emotional scene at the airport. i have always imagined that first moment when i see them will be very very intense. it wasn't; it was calm, exciting but nothing too crazy. i guess it is the effect of the years that have passed by. i feel a little old.

i had a serious jet-lag. it took me about three days to adjust to this time difference. and last night i finally slept like normal people. but it's 4:32am again and i am up...

the prices are shockingly expensive. they are almost as much as new york. i paid about 4 bucks for three scoops of ice cream last night, ridiculous...other than that, things are not too different. they are, but in a way, they are exactly the same.

the best part is to be home on the new year's day. i had a blast. it was like old old times. all my parents' friends, all the people i love like family. it was good to be a part of something familiar, something you belong to, something you cherish. i didn't feel like i was missed all that much. i felt like life went on, not too drastically different for anyone. they missed me for a bit, and then it was like i've never been there. surprisingly that doesn't bother me at all. in a way i feel good about it. i admire this strength in people to adjust to new things. i did the same thing, and it made me a lot happier compared to when i used to cling to my old memories.

we went to a party last night. i remembered the kind of fun we used to have. the stupid little jokes, conversations and flirting. it is strange how unfamiliar it all was, and how familiar at the same time. i had a really good time. i feel very good. although i don't think i want to come back and live here, i feel like i belong to this place and i like this place. and i like where i live now as well. if that makes sense.