So I'm not very good at handling the staying-away-from-Xanga bit. I decided to be hypocrite and start posting again! Okay, what had happened was that a dear friend and I had a misunderstanding. I'm not the sort who hangs onto a grudge for the rest of her life, but I do hang onto things for a while before I move on. I was drained from the whole ordeal and didn’t have the heart to write. Thankfully we worked everything out, because I don't want to imagine my life without her or blogging. Tons of exciting!, random!, and new! things in no particular order: 1) I CUT OFF 12 INCHES OF MY HAIR 2) Apparently AR has other stalkers? Before Film Studies today I was talking to Chelsea and Inbol, two other girls in the same class. Both of them had been following AR on Facebook too, and we spent a good 20 minutes giggling like sick schoolgirls over how hot he was. “Did you see his biceps?” Inbol gushed, and I shook my head like the liar I was, knowing if I said yes, why the very reason I sit right next to him is to stare at those sweet biceps I would look really pathetic. “He works out at the gym!” “You can see his veins in his arms – he’s toned!” “He’s cute but he tries too hard to look smart.” “Yeah, but he is smart.” “Who cares? The first day I thought ‘Hot GSI, he’s probably easy.’ but nooooo…..Mr. Rosario came out to be self-obsessed jerk.” The highlight of the cult gathering (yes, cult, there might be more of us out there…) was when Chelsea told me about the ugly girl in all of AR’s photos. MORE THAN THAT, apparently this ugly girl is ALWAYS with AR. “She’s always sitting a table away from him in office hours. It’s creepy I tell you.” Inbol’s hazel eyes bored in to mine to emphasize the horror, “I hope they’re not dating. He’s so beautiful and she’s so…….ogre-like.” DIE UGLY GIRL, NO ONE LOVES YOU 3) When I went grocery shopping tonight, the lady at the register gave me the usual How are you? I gave her my usual: I told her what I was actually feeling. “My day started off weird, but then it got better.” “That’s lovely honey.” She had a sweet face and a sincere smile. I imagine she’s the sort who bakes people cookies just for the hell of it. “You see,” I leaned across the counter, “I have a Film Studies instructor who’s very attractive but he never smiles. He actually smiled today.” She laughed. When I realized how girly was being by indirectly admitting I had a crush on my instructor, I started laughing too. Here I was, in a miniskirt, telling a cashier at Safe Way I thought my Film Studies instructor was hot. “He looked so beautiful.” The dimples shown in her cheeks as she grinned, “You’re such a dear.” “Well, I’m taking the class for a requirement. I don’t enjoy the material, so the only reason I go to class is for the eye candy.” “OOOOH.” She gushed. Screw it, she’s probably the sort who bakes cookies for attractive young men, putting in tons of some home-made aphrodisiac that gives those poor chaps hard-ons that last for days. As I was leaving I winked at her. She flapped her hands to shoo me out, like I was the pervy one. 4) Last night I met up with Euna and her housemate to say goodbye to Robert. Remember Robert? He was the one who spent all his time talking about spirituality and meditation which drove me to tears of boredom? That guy. I regret saying all that about him now, the same way I would regret saying anything about someone I remotely liked once I find out they’re leaving. Greg – the intimidating mathematician who I thought was so amazing – moved out after he was attacked in the neighborhood he and Euna were living in. He’s in a small town off the coast now, and a few weeks ago he married his long-time girlfriend. They’re waiting to get married in traditional Chinese style (she’s Chinese) so they can move-in together. I’ve never met her, but according to Robert she’s a sweetheart. Greg didn’t talk much about her when I met him last night, but there was this warmth in his gaze I’ve never seen. Al, the old pervert, was also there. Last night I was apparently so excited about meeting them all again I forgot Al could be touchy feely, and I decided to don a mini skirt. HA, I’M A MORON BEGGING TO BE AL-RAPED. The moment Al saw me he proclaimed “You finally know how to dress!” He proceeded to hold my hand as we all walked around Berkeley looking for a coffee place. When his hand started getting dangerously close to my arse I told Euna I wanted to switch places with her in the front. Euna was walking with their new housemate, Eric, who graciously accepted the switch, and was even polite enough to laugh when I told him Al liked my skirt too much. I deemed him to be a likable gentleman. By the end of the night I spent almost all my time talking to him about everything I could think of. He’s the sort of person you could hug as many times as you’d like without worrying about being pushed away. He’s SUCH a teddy bear. Incredibly sweet, funny man. He even said I should call him so we could hang out! !!!!!!! He even said he’s willing to drive me places! !!!!!!!!!! And when it came time to leave, he gave me the biggest hug! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh, about when it came time to leave: we said our goodbye’s like traditional Asian folk = we spent an hour horsing around in front of my apartment building. We were so loud a girl from the floor above came down to tell us to keep it down. I felt oddly proud of creating such a ruckus. FOR THE FIRST TIME IN ALL THE TIME I’VE KNOWN GREG, WE HAD AN ACTUAL CONVERSATION. I know. Amazing. Greg can be hard to talk to because he’s so stand-offish. What looks like him giving you cold-shoulder is just Greg being friendly (…....), so last night I finally got the courage to prod, poke and talk to him as much as I could. What’s strange is that The Gates to Conversation opened when I told him my father and I had a twisted relationship. “Twisted?” He laughed. “Like a rubber band?” “Twisted in that he’s abusive.” I laughed back. It wasn’t funny, but I’ve gotten so used to talking about how broken the relationship is that the bitterness doesn’t bother me anymore. His laughter ebbed into a small smile, not hesitant or shy, but almost understanding. When I looked into his face, his eyes glowed like a purring cat’s. “Sorry.” He mumbled. “Don’t be.” “Things will be ok now.” He started shuffling his feet, looking down as he played with his hoodie, “You’ve moved out.” “I suppose.” “Is he emotionally or physically abusive?” I felt a little taken back, not because he was being invasive, but because he was never this intimate. “Both.” I answered. “Sorry.” “Don’t worry about it. Actually, he’s emotionally abusive, but he……he flirts with me.” Greg didn’t say anything. I wondered if I crossed a line. When the silence stretched into five seconds, I poked his side. “You have uh-may-zing eyessssss.” I slurred, starting to poke his hip. “Like a cat’s. It’s like you swallowed a star and now your eyes are glowing.” And that’s how we wound up talking about how psychos have blue eyes, why brown eyes are better, and why Greg should never do ballet, amongst other things. He told me he didn’t care about getting to know people. “I’m content just knowing their names, their jobs, and where they live. That’s it.” When I told him about my father, I bridged a gap between what he knew and perhaps what he didn’t want to know. Greg didn’t seem uncomfortable with my confession. Maybe I imagined it, but he almost seemed……...satisfied. The kind of satisfaction you get when you talk to someone and discover they might be just as screwed up as you. I don’t think Greg’s a sadist like that, but perhaps he’s glad I’m able to understand sadness as well he does. --- HAVE AT IT, I KNOW YOU WANT IT: 
Al, Greg, and Euna trying to explain to Greg why peace signs are integral to photographs. 
Robert when he told me he didn't do fake smiles. 
Robert actually coming close to smiling. 
Why the hell is the picture sideways, I don't know. But if you tilt your head, you can see Eric trying to break open up a plastic box with a custard/chocolate donut. This isn't the best photo of him, but it still makes me SQUEEE! anyways.  --- Robert was very quiet. Robert’s always quiet, not in a shy way, but in a way suggesting he’s content living in his head. His silence gives him the time and space to think about people in detail. As I sat next to him when the others went to get donuts, he turned to gaze at me. “You’ve changed.” He observed. “It’s the hair I tell you.” “No no, not the hair. You seem warmer. You seem wiser.” I nodded. All I could do was nod, for I didn’t want to explain the reason behind the change. Even if I had, it wouldn’t bring Robert and I closer. He’s the sort of person who doesn’t believe in being attached to people or things. “You also seem more attached to things.” He commented. I arched a curve of an eyebrow, “I do?” “Well, you always seemed like the sort who didn’t get attached to people and things easily. That’s good.” He didn’t look away, not even once, as he talked to me. The blue in his eyes had never looked that powerful. “Some people are worth getting attached to.” When I smiled he looked away, as if fending me off. --- After everyone had said their goodbyes and headed towards Eric’s car, Robert lingered with me. The silence didn’t feel awkward or heavy, not the sort of anxious space one paces in when they’re saying goodbye. Robert didn’t believe in goodbyes, and after coming to Berkeley, I don’t either. Before he left I took him into my arms. “Don’t do anything stupid in Santa Cruz alright? I know you’re going to be out there in the wilderness by yourself meditating and experiencing nature, but don’t try to face a bear on your own.” I felt him smile into my shoulder. “I won’t.” he promised. “And take care of yourself.” “Likewise.” “And, just…..” my throat felt raw, “thanks for being my bhaiyya, my older brother.” As he murmured a soft you welcome, I turned my face towards his neck and kissed him lightly on the jaw. When he walked away I watched the rise and fall of his shoulders, imagining the tide in Santa Cruz to do the same. --- If I never see Robert again, I’m going to go to the beach to watch the tide flowing towards me. The rise and fall of the waves will be his shoulders as he walks towards me, wanting to be attached to someone else. | 
, Bollywood, Kabuki theatre, paleobiology, surgery scissors, The Beatles, The Kings of Leon, medical ethnobotany, and classical Japanese literature?
