Wow look at the date on my last entry! I haven't written for a long ass time. No fucking shit. What happened?

Was I too lazy or did something happen there? Well...so much for " I almost gave up on xanga"...

I have almost given up on xanga.

But looking back at my entries today, I had a different revelation.

It's sorta weird - those words, in between lines, contained tidbits of my life. Together these tidbits are the fabrics of my life; together they could be woven into a tapetry, a tale of who I am. Somehow, somewhere, during those late nights of rambling and soul searching, bits of life were frozen into time capsules, little zigsaw puzzles waiting to be pieced together later.

So life is not so bad, afterall I guess. In the space of a week I have gone through two APs, one final exam, the production of a movie, and two elections. A Premiere de Oro nomination and VP inauguration later, I am back to where I was a week before - sitting in front my computer, doing nothing, and wondering why the hell am I sitting in front my computer and doing nothing.

Still some questions grinded at me. Who won the first election? If the second election haven't occur, would I have been VP? In fact, did I actually came close to making IA? How would I have reacted if I made IA? What did Susan mean when she told me that she was disappointed that I didn't become IA?

Why are you reading a xanga entry written by a moron like me?

This week has been very mutli-cultural for me. I went to a Garba and Hanamatsuri.

You know, I am really interested in Indian culture. Ambreen and Palak started it all when they showed me the movie *DDLJ*. So when Priya told me to come to their Garba, I had no idea what it is so I just promised to go. All she told me was that itz some kinda traditional dance thing.

When I got there with my friends Jessica, Shannon, Alice and Mike, we saw all these people with Indian traditional dress on. Priya was late for half an hour, so we just chilled in front of the place.

When she arrived tho, she looked abosolutely stunning, in a indian-princess-cy sorta way. She's so different from the Priya i know in english class. The rest of the night was pretty interesting, since i met a lot of my friends there, like Swati, Palak, Tanaya, Ambreen, and (the other) Palak. I also met other new ppl, like Christi who goes to UCI. They gave me advice on how to get a good pre-law major - itz funny how this happen at a Garba.

The experiene gave me a new perspective on things. For one, Indian culture is interesting in that there's a lot of emphasize on singing and dancing. It's good to see something outside of the realm of you culture.

The Hanamatsuri was different - it's a japanese festival sorta thing. They had a whole cultural exhibit from things ranging from bonzai, japanese dolls, calligraphy, and flower arrangements to recreational games.

The main draw of the festival was the food. We spent like $20 on all sort of japanese-food-with-names-I-can't-pronunce. In the area where we ate, they also had a karate demonstration and japanese drum performance. It was pretty cool watching Darren and Emily playing the japanese drum. I didn't know there's this other side of them.

There's also a few MUN people there too, which is surprising. I saw Alan with his friends, and some sophmores I talked to before during grilling sessions.

So overall, last week was pretty fun. Too chosen had to go back to Taiwan. Dang did I mention that indian and japanese gurlz r hot?

Junior year is the time when you achieve and suffer the most.

I learned something though. NO more self doubt. How do you survive competition? You win through the force of character and hard work. Be confident about yourself. NOt necessarily arrogant, of course.

I hope I will learn something about leadership at the upcoming Pepperdine Youth Leadership Seminar. Thanks Mr.M for trusting in me to nominate me! I won't let you down.

Forgetfulness

The name of the author is the first to go
followed obediently by the title, the plot,
the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel
which suddenly becomes one you have never read, never even heard of,

as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor
decided to retire to the southern hemispehre of the brain,
to a little fishing village where there are no phones.

Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses goodbye
and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,
and even now as you mmorize the order of the planets,

something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps,
the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay.

Whatever it is you are struggling to remember
it is not poised on the tip of you tongue,
not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.

It has floated away down a dark mythological river
whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall,

well on your own way to olivion where you will join those
who have even forgoten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.

No wonder you rise in the middle of the night
to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.
No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted
out of a love poem that you used to know by heart.