it might've been a fantastic day. at least, our four-hour rehearsal/noodle dinner was great. high-ceilinged rooms all the way to LA yo...and the casals/stern/hess recording of brahms trio 8. which sounds as if they just sauntered geriatrically into some seaside cottage in majorca and played what came mischievously to their greying heads. ugh...but now, lactic acid all up in ma jointz. or at least my fingers hurt a lot a lot. mm. jiawei's finally tucked herself in and away. my plants are dying or severed from their bases. that fragrant aspect of my life is clearly over for now. i need to get a cryptoporticus writing style back. and feeling in my fingers. maybe all my pretty words evince themself in song. pro-blem-atik. momentum.
* * *
hey, i think i miss places where you can slow dance in white t-shirts to fade into you. certains de vous, aussi?

gosh. maybe i'll compile the lead-ins to my entries into a sort of timeline and see what i can find. what others can find. i just went up to wphs to teach piano, and they were like "uh, we're doing standardized tests" and i was like "uh, guess i'm gone". so i ran back and then ducked into gimbel for some quick ellipskeness. all without water until a few minutes ago. all around me, people are in the frantic cold aloof mindspace of having midterms to take, or to bitterly rend their hair for. i have pretty much nothing. but um the important thing was, my writing style's slipping into disclaritas. sorry for anyone who reeeheaally doesn't get it. i bet you do. and otherwise? "the best that i can, with what it is i have". though that statement in itself leads to a sinking feeling. methodology for decision making processus: i come to a decision, plog around for other people's opinions and phrasings of it, and so justify my thesis. i mean, decision. but don't you sometimes need one opinion to the contrary? i've never asked anyone about something so important that it merited conflicting advices. kor-e-ah. ah, ah. but yes, pretty thing of the morning (teehee): walking around to the a-wing and turning my head to see salailama and tati bathed in a pool of light. i shall call it, "macro, interrupted". dave and i spent an hour here, clutching at the days when we were praised for our bright-eyed potential. mmhm.

sitting in the dry sunlight, lisa's making sleepbag sniffly noises on the floor and she has to get up and gone in a little while. never fall asleep in your bed with a pen in your hand. on reviewing my accounts, i spent $100 in my first week back. hmm. i have no sense of what that means. except that i said i wouldn't do it. oops. erm, ortlieb's and will's swim party yesterday in a car! unprecedented for me, i think. all the splendid festoons of a sad pennacht, the mechanization of partying. the more i talk, the more it seems i've already given up. i mean, i'm sorry! sorry sorry. action/reaction, for every apology given, isn't there some loyalty created somewhere else? and if so, who or what could i possibly be loyal to now? where exactly have i divested myself, and with how distracted of a mind? "thing is, you got to recognize"...thing is, you should have better things to do with your time. and some quoits, guess who...no one you shouldn't know:
"he's so terrible and he's so my sort of thing"
"all i can remember is peter always there, doing all sorts of wonderful things"

oh i l-o-v-e when my cpu sounds like a small barbie van revving up. so, today. it would be interesting if i like wrote about days not as they come but as they went. i am having some trouble. i got a grant to go to korea this summer. which seems faintly and deathly unnecessary for me on my self-revelatory curve, the more i think and freak about it. not that there's anything wrong with anything. i'm tired of being anti-FOB. but... [fragment check :^)]. any inconsistencies discovered herein are for puzzling.

i got 3 more points for professor whitney on the midterm, placing me nowhere of relevance on the grade distribution. in class today, whitney whipped out the zen koans. you like see?

the road you take here isn't the one you'll take out

advantages are harder to overcome than disadvantages

there is no grey-haired lady

funny how he'll never submit to our cries of agony but with some philosophical entreaty to shut the hell up. more points on Q3 and pity are both out of the question. all the rain today. my trench coat is spoilt and so my yellow slicker was rubber ragin all the way to oggi. a 'profound sense of unworthiness' front has settled in. things everywhere go awry. hypocalypse? we decided it was a season for pairing off and we agreed about a lot of other things. "aye, paired off! and then the rains came!" though i never know how to express how much i agree with you. best of luck, everyone.

nishad has read all of my november entries. "so, it's really funny". i fail all my midterms making me the union of the set everyone having 'failed' one midterm. nice. and walking around the hall tonight was just funny. founts of creation and asian-ness. imagine me writing this huddled in my creviche with t-shirt and shorts. pretending. because that's something i do a lot while on autopilot like this.

thanx dahling...hanseul gave me this and it's provoked the usual here at the university of pennsylvania; that is to say, viciously cold dissection and long warm followthrough. reaction over at princeton?... :^) manoj's and my shared insight: p-ton is like the resort from which embryonic i-bankers emerge, into manhattan with their experiences as their credentials. or something; later than lately i use lots of semicolon half-stops in my writing; it has this "i'm leaning against a wall" feel to them. can't be, shan't be bothered to come to a full rest; and the comma compromises the molasses-slow movement of my massive glacial thought-patterns. er artsy.

we moved mr. table into the crook of our beds' L-shape. now it's a nice ugly repository for books, potted plants, oh the devil may care. and i'll/we'll get very carrington on its ass i hope, with post-mural resources. the proselytization of space. and...and...maybe. i don't quite know what to put right here.

usual night except we're on the verge of starting classes. again. same vows same cows. just lither, tanner, more relaxed than before in preparation for the great stress. lately last night we were seducing/being seduced by the lonely miss [?] poshi_26 on literati. and toDAY tony introduced us to wordracer. [throwing hands and letters into the air]. when in doubt, words like 'porn', 'heron', and 'metallurgy' will come in handy. oy worse than tetrinet. mum sent the skirt via the blotchy belle connie, lately of puerto rico, mad ups...and it's lovely, digipics soon. and...what's relevant in today's news? what's the kyrie chorus? --well, who are these best friends, why are they so many, and will their parallel lines ever meet? in the quickening weather, in the lengthening daylight, in the morass of parallel phrasing. i mean; whoops! the compulsions i never fought against but slowly waded into, legal pad in hand and lipbitten to fright. and sometimes the alternate angles add up to something like 180 degrees. hot enough to make my ears itch.

what am i wearing? come and see! "what garbage!" "what's your PROBlem?" things i would've said with less hesitation to myself a few years ago. back in philly; a seersucker skirt, honey conditioner, and apricot scrub are on the way. thanks mommy... i want to go see some moovies but the temporary friend-drout and everything-drout is standing a little in the way. maybe i should've stayed home another night. but anyway [settling back, brushing hair away from face], i have these dreams recently. last night i dreamt i was actually IN the mask of eternity, and i actually made it into the skull underworld. "very early in the game for this sort of thing, where are the happy villagers in my home town?" i thought, and died in the first room at the hands of two evil...skull guardian slobbery brown nastees. like it's because i never drink my potions when i ought to, and the perspective controls were REALLY diffracting me.

but no; no, that didn't happen at all. what do i learn this week?
-sometimes ripe fruits WILL fall into your lap, like mccall pattern 1803.
-MODjo.
-and sometimes, stop acting how you wanna act all the time. cuz no one want to SEE that mofucker!
-i can def'ly acc'ly selvage the hiphop stations traveling from poughkeepsie to philadelphia. kinda.
-i made so, so many decisions, in terms of my miss education, growing up. SO many. more than the average regretful college frosh. in retrospect all of them do, in fact, seem like the stupid and safe ones. the ones that a hermit crab would've made. no one will be watching any movies tonight [or any night]. "whoops."
-even MORE touching, is that there is nothing more reluctant and shy than the leaves of the white-flowered oxalis i just set on my windowsill. without any light, it shrugs down into itself like a hale green moth. come on sun where you at!? hyacinths need you too btw

hey check out the fresh batch of isb-pictures and also last night's dunkin donut series! each piece was drawn on an authentic dunkin donuts napkin. if any are unclear or otherwise offensive, let me know and i will do my best. there are more to come soon...esp. photos. big smiles, guyss!

curator's notes:

• it should be clear from these that he is the art school student and i am just an asian girl.


• my andriu is more flattering than his joanne. joanne <> bestemama. please!?


• andriu's inviting chair should not surprise those who have seen my chair shirt - "sit down!"

to be a laugh-with vs. a smile-with. i'm smile-ing...but.

inktomi is everywhere! significant changes since having left (u)penn a few light-hours ago: my nails are flamingo frost [old navy] on nude nude [clinique], my skin feels rejuvenated by a walk through the neighborhood, and i'm wearing my brother's pants again. i've eaten a lot of sashimi, and making lists ith on my mind. no it isn't. for several tiny crumbs of reasons i feel like a terrible, a foolish, and a cumbersome person to be, and a select few will be able to litmus me over spring break. but not really. i will be watching from the sidelines. you could take lots of approaches to understanding why i feel like a terrible person. metaphorically i feel like the empty mussel shell [teehee...are clams alive?] all sharp edged, dirty, two halves making a dark and speckly whole. riiiight. to get obvious about it: so often, i don't do the right thing. soo often. not even the right thing. i don't do the beautiful thing. or the graceful thing. i tell myself to, and then i don't. at the time it's because i don't know what it is, or do a little bit but want to see what happens. the way i walk for instance. just because i have about 10% chance of being graceful doesn't mean that i have to walk like an idiot and hope it becomes graceful perversely. just because i have a tendency to be verbally incoherent doesn't mean i have to have this thesaurus tourette's syndrome. dipping one toe into the murky depths of idiocy and then turning into ... an idiot. yes you can have birkin's "telling way of putting things" and yes dh, it is a millstone. i'm really squishing my ego here...like an orange. the ride home was like, "hey, amal!" "yo rob~" and then the rains began. just-- i wish so much that i could be a little less blind when dealing with people and situations, as dolorous and inky as that sounds. be a little less the person whom i hate and turn my head away from. a lot more the person who really sparkles :^) just get rid of the 'fog' as amal said, and walk out into the pouring rain.

i get really paranoid when i'm sick. i think when i was younger we used to sleep on the floor on a mattress and lots of mongolian furs. i mean korean blankets. or at least that's how i remember it. when i was sick, then, burning slowly under the weight of a korean blanket/carpet and my immune system. my eyes better back then, endlessly fixed on the sliver of light from the hallway until there was a vertical red blade when i closed my eyes again. mom bringing antibiotics crushed into vanilla ice cream. but now the lights are on in the room and to survive i have to study opim. erg. burning slowly. in my first sleep session, my nightmare was about someone who was going to spring a rube goldberg-like concept on the world. it was to be so massive and so complex that people would shrivel up and die just looking at a schematic of it on posterboard. it scared me so much, that was when i woke up for the first time. and it was like 12:30 and i was still scared.

so what if i sometimes
get jackie o
and audrey confused
i know that someone else
is gonna pay my dues

really weird; i 'found' this website a few hours that had many jd salinger short stories on it. anand, remember our project? welll then. so there they are and i read some of them and the feeling of hard-working ethic that woke me up is all gone, gone, gone. and now i am writing like the seven year old seymour glass, alas. maybe i'm not. but in reaction to the manifold new variables and constraints that entered my life this past week i cut my hair last night really quickly, so that it is more eight year old-joanne. the other time i cut my hair it was for more nineteen year old-joanne. i...don't know about that.

last night i also tried to make potato prints for PCMS invites and messed up, and my hands quinkly blue-black. if only for some better cause than a completely failed round of artism. and A on my architecture paper which merited a B- because i'm in the pilot program which merits an "excellent effort" but an "unsatisfactory performance", and which i'm going to drop this year i think. my heart just swoops to smash itself on earth thinking of such a weighty move but there it is. and...things just bruise me easily because i bruise things easily. take my backpack. take my camera. take my coat. take it all, and then i can take it all. er?

weezer tonight am SO not going. i say it like i have a choice. and last night we also tried to make orange juice for the sick jia but no juicer. so blender --> unsanitary orange puree. which was dubious even for the healthy.

so i'm a bitch. i'm trying hard. let me gather my brain a little bit and i'll be back soon. i swear. and i'm sorry. as cryptic as that is struggling to be. studying ppmt tonight at houston hall, and suddenly falafel sandwiches fell from the sky and into our startled mouths. i've never worked on anything before!! that was cool.