deep thoughts

as you all know, if you keep up, i draw comics depicting breakups, heartaches, but it seems, never love. perhaps depicting true love in a comic is hard. perhaps it is easier to draw from heartache and sadness. for me, it is easier to share my broken heart to everyone since everyone has had their heart broken. this isn't as personal to me as falling in love since not everyone gets the opportunity to fall in love. or perhaps i have more stories to share about heartache than i do love, who knows.

awhile back, i wrote about how i used to date this guy jake. a long time ago. he did nothing wrong. i just "fell" out of love with him. then, i wasn't even sure if i even loved him. horrible, i know. we tried to stay friends, but it didn't work. he couldn't handle being friends with me. he would drive 3 hours to meet me for coffee and i would babble about my career and who i was seeing, not seeing how his face drop and how heart would break. i was obtuse. i guess i felt as if my happy chatter would block out the sound of his ripping heart. all in all, our close friendship ended. abruptly. he just simply one day called me to let me know that he was not going to be in my life. i joked back since i could not believe him. what?! we have been friends for years. how could he say this? how could he mean this? not once thinking about how he must have felt for the past 10 years.

my question to you, my nonjudgmental readers, is it ever too late to apologize? i mean to really truly apologize. a heartfelt, i'm sorry to have been such a horrible friend and i hope you are happy apology? again, is it to relieve my guilt. perhaps. wuold hearing from me make him feel better? not sure. the last time we spoke, i believed he cried, which made me feel awful and awkward. i don't know what to say or how to act when guys cry. it is like when i am standing at a party where i don't know anyone. do i hold a drink? do i keep my hands in my pockets? i just don't know.

if i am being selfish, then i apologize. i don't think i will ever regain my friendship with jake. no more jokes about cthulu. or making fun of the drama geeks. creating new RPGs. i guess in the end, even when the relationship is over, the friendship is what i miss the most. i miss my friend and not just "jake" but my friends of long time past. however, in true pearl spirit, i just don't have the energy or motivation to restart these friendships.

and they probably don't want to restart them as well. they know they would just be fodder for my comic.

all this thinking is due to me watching that movie, 500 days of summer. it got me thinking about how i have ended relationships. all not always as clean cut as i draw them. it's easy when i draw these heartbreaks. the paper and pen don't argue or yell back.

it's not as if i am gonna make a list of dudes i wanna say sorry and mend their wounds. good god, what a short and depressing list!

what i am saying is, to apologize to jake would allow me to be back "in" with some dear friends from college, but at the same time. it wasn't about sides, but they chose his, so why bother. i've never really a lot of friends, so i don't need them and frankly, i am not sure i want to be friends with them again. but i do feel bad about jake and i feel he held me up in a good light and i'd like him to remember me fondly and not as a disappointment.

for now, i will just keep my glasses on and hide behind my books. time heals all wounds. it also makes you forget the bad stuff. but, it makes you forget the good stuff too.

i wanna ride my bike, but then i remember this...

my bike failed me

trolley tracks are killers. i borrowed my sister's red bike and rode it to rittenhouse park this afternoon to stop at the vegan cafe to see my friend matthew. after chit chatting i jumped on my bike to head home and stop and buy comics and then just chill. simple enough no? so i am riding and i have my armani shades on, my red vans, and one of my earplugs in for my ipod, because listening with both earplugs would be totally stupid if i am riding with traffic! my bike's tired hit the trolley track and the brakes would not pump right and my bike slipped and i fell off and slid with it.....down a long ass street. now, i am all panicky, shocked and there is a lot of blood on me. my own blood. my bike is all bent and there is a truck driver behind me who screeched on his brakes not to hit me and hit my back of the bike. he starts yelling at me, "get your f**** bike off the street! move it" i am all disorientaled and i start to apologize to him and trying to move my bike. my bike which suddenly weighs a ton to me. atlas carrying the world. some random guy walking by tells me, "whoa! you should wear a helmet!" to which i glare at him and said, "mind your business!" i called my friend nick, my girl chetana and i was all dazed due to the accident. their cure? drinks at copa 2 and nachos. well, the nachos were my idea! my entire left side of my body is bruised, scraped, swollen and bloody. my shirt got torn and my right side of my tummy is scraped and bruised and bloody and my knees are shot. my reality moment, going to the bathroom after the accident, standing in my tee shirt and panties pouring a bottle of hydrogen peroxide over my left side of my body and stomach to clean out my wounds. send sympathy to me. xo ps, my girls here in philly, chetana,amanda, and props to mark and shane...thanks for listening to me cry. xo

staring contest with my coffee

i often do odd things. i always have random things in my pockets. bandaids. jellybeans. often macaroons for some reason. as if i think i am end stranded somewhere in philly, i will be the hero that saves us by letting people feast on my stale macaroon. i prefer reading on park benches and under trees, even when it is cold out. fingerless gloves is my solution for reading in brisk autumnal weather. i would rather listen and make music on kaosilator than tune into my ipod. if i have my ipod on, i would rather listen to old time radio. when i buy new books, i try not to break the spine on them, so i am really hesitant to let people borrow books. unless, you can read them without really opening them. i know. weird. books are meant to be worn from reading and thrown onto piles next to one's bed. but, i don't do that. i read several books at once. so, i am constantly switching from book to book to book. i like everything on my desk to be organized. 90 degree angles and aligned. i prefer blue ink pens over black ink pens. i hate using times new roman font on my letterhead, so i use courier or comic sans, which probably messes up the format of things and drive my secretary batty. i like knitting cozies for things that don't really need cozies: earplugs, little knick knacks, my chubby zombie doll. i don't like it when people buy me flowers, but like the idea of flowers. i would rather make a comic about a funny mishap for someone's birthday than buy them a lame amazon gift card or make them pancakes. i like to open my windows a crack to feel how cold it is and then pile on my blankets on me, but still have the window open. i think all books read under the covers with a flashlight make them good. it's like magic. i think techno was invented as an additional level of dante's inferno and i think concert tee shirts remind us of bands we want to forget. i eat rice almost everyday, yet will not buy a bigger rice cooker since the little yellow one i have reminds me of me if i were to be an appliance. i only drink tea with kumquats and kumquats are seasonal. i picture everyone with thought bubbles over their heads and i imagine my thought bubble is always prolly a dancing chicken. i know poultry can't dance. i often call people the wrong names, but they answer and then i am convinced they have aliases. no matter how hard i try, everything i say sounds upbeat and sweet. no matter how hard i try, i always snort when i laugh. i believe the things my mama told me. yes, someday i will outgrow my clumsiness. i still get nervous in court and when i get nervous, i get really clumsy, so i try not to pace or move about the courtroom. standing is a bit dicey for me. thank goodness for tables. i love to dance around, but when i go out to dance, i find myself not moving because the dude behind or in front of me is pelvic thrusting and i can do is point and snort outloud. i have a habit of saying thank you alot. for instance, a bum will ask for money and i will respond, no thank you. or i have a case where i have to clean up someone's mess and they say sorry, i goofed and i say thank you for your help. backwards, i know. i don't mind going to movies alone, but it seems to bother people that i am there alone. i listen to gangsta rap even though i don't really curse and truth be told, don't know half the slang they use. my closet is colour coordinated, but my shoes sit in a pile. i still make mix tapes and covers for them, yet nobody listens to tapes. i love hoodies because they cover up my elf ears, yet i wear my hair like a gelfling. i like to sing in the shower, but i only sing dolly parton songs. i love staring contests with babies and objects. i have yet to win one though.

so with all the above, i guess my staring contest with my coffee seems pretty normal.

out of sight out of mind

like most pixies and elves, i tend to go into hiding. sometimes by choice and sometimes not by choice. i have a close inner circle of peeps who i heart. my peeps are people who i don't always chat with on a daily basis, but everything always flows when we do chat or meet up. these are solid cats. i do have friends who i feel if they don't see me that i am out of their lives until i make a reappearance. i have some friends who i always reach out to and no response. am i an idiot to keep trying to keep in touch with people? sometimes i wonder if i am trying to keep in touch because the history of our friendship and what we had was so wonderful that i feel it has to be preserved. other times, i feel like it is the right thing to do, why burn bridges? but sometimes bridges don't get burned, they just don't get used anymore.

we all have friends who need to talk to you everyday, see you everyday. with me, this just can't be done. i can't do that. just not who i am. we all need our personal space and i like to do my own thing. i remember telling people how i like to go to the matinees by myself or out to breakfast by myself. people think this is weird. like there is something wrong with me. i just like having moments to think. i always manage to get in touch with people, but it works both ways.

whenever i feel a bit guilty for not getting back to some friends as quickly as possible, i think of one of my past best friends, kc. she and i would go on adventures together and hijinx. we would totally crack each other up. anyhow, one day, she packed her bags and told us she was going to london for the summer for art school. we all believed her. then on the day she was flying back, we called her house and her mom told us she would be home soon. we were all excited with glee. her mom was perplexed. we explained we were excited to see kc come home since she was in london for 3 months. her mom replied, no. kc has been here all summer. wha?! anyhow, when i later asked her about it. she didn't say she lied, when she did, but explained, "i needed a vacation." and that was that. no one called her or bothered her for 3 months because she was in london or so we thought. brilliant! kc, much like duchamp did, got a vacation while still living at home. perhaps this is what i do when i lose touch or forget to blog, plurk or tweet. leave a message and i will get back to all when i come back from vacation. just know i always holla at you all back.
xo

boys are the new girls

perhaps i have kept one slanty eye blind to this phenomenon, but when did all the boys in this dirty city become girls?! seriously. i am not suggesting we girls all become damsels in distress and leave the men to bring home the bacon so we can cook it. not at all. i just didn't realize that the metrosexual dude would evolve into a girly boy. i am all for the emo boy. but this goes beyond emo. these are boys who wear tight sweaters in the colours of oatmeal, pumpkin and seafoam. these are the boys who take more time doing the hair than my girls. these are the boys who cry when you tell them, "we need to talk." these are the boys who spend a mint on facial products. these are the boys who need you to tell them that their tight jeans are not too tight and make their butts look good. honestly, it is like hanging out with eighth grade girls!

these needy boys may have been here in philly all along, but recently they have moved from their under dwelling to the surface. i am an independent gal, but there is something to be said to have a guy who is a guy's guy. i like being the girl in the relationship.

this is not some angry asian girl rant, just pure observation.

or perhaps i am just jealous of these girly men's skin care regiment. do they know how to exfoliate or what?! insane.

xo

no white babies

everywhere i look, i see yuppie white couples with cute little asian babies. i am all for people adopting and giving a baby a loving home, this is not what my blog is about. instead, i realized, i have never seen an asian couple with a cute little white baby. am i the only who finds this odd? should i?

a friend of a friend once told me that world domination could be achieved by holding a cute asian baby. there may be some truth to that. who can say no to a little baby with black hair and little almond eyes? certainly not i!

i wonder if there exist an asian couple with an adopted baby?

babies are wicked cute no matter what race. just wanted to jot down my observation. not trying to be too deep, just a rodin thinker moment. that's it.

xo