Poor Stanley. At this very moment, he is paying a mandatory visit to jail somewhere along the San Diego and Mexican border. Don't trip, homie! I hope you brought a sweater. You'll be out of there in a few hours.

heh.

Things I would do if it would ensure a democratic victory on Tuesday (and I'm not joking):

I would, unhesitantly and immediately, give up my spot at Yale University.

I would go without sex for 4 years. (This one appears to be an inevitability regardless)

I would donate my car to charity.

I would uninstall and never again use AIM.

I would become a vegetarian.

I would donate all the money I currently own to charity (OK, so that isn't much)

Things I would not do even if it would ensure a democratic victory:

I would not give up music.

This election, besides being one of the most divisive in history, will probably decide the fate of our country. If that sounds too harsh are dramatic, you probably haven't been paying attention.
Though the extent of things I would give up may sound humorous, or even ridiculous, please believe me when I say I would. I am not joking.

"And on top of that, you want to take me to prison/
just cuz I won't trade humanity for patriotism."
-Immortal Technique, "The 4th Branch"

Random thoughts.

The pathetic immutability of the piano-level at Yale is getting more and more depressing. What is going on?

The gym is truly a haven for an undeniably static series of mental cases: a) the anorexically-inclined 90-pound female, perpetually stranded on a treadmill, waiting for her ribcage to accentuate her imaginated beauty. The kind of chick you would date for the sole purpose of forcing a 16-oz steak down her throat. b) the isotonic obsessive madman. definition means nothing, and roaring like a manly lion while dropping all your weights to the ground is a definitive public measurement of what's down there. c) the janet jackson idolizing ab-fanatics. she spends 45 minutes on a mat, crunching like a broken rocking chair. the gym is truly a place for the psychotic.

On a serious and unrelated note, many of you know that I have not been doing so well since the semester has started. Hopefully, this is changing for the better. I have since undergone a complex inauguration into an elite family consisting of three older female brothers, a bulgarian boyfriend with c-cup pecs, and a romanian roommate with whom i can commute telepathically as a result of our siamese-esque twinship.

Being single is definitely not what it was built up to be, though I think I am quickly adapting. All asian girls in school are either a) incapable of using vocabulary past high-pitched words like 'unyee', b) taken by white guys, c) ugly, d) all of the above. For those of you that believe Berkeley goggles were the thickest of them all, please.....come to New Haven. You'll be like Ray Charles by the end of the month.

I am tired. This blog entry is incomprehensible, but I haven't written in awhile.

Currently: trying to get my life back on track.

Granted, it was bound to happen at any moment, I still find myself in a state of shock at Lillian Kallir's death.

The older generation is quietly disappearing, leaving the new-age music world with this sanitarily cold and unfeeling athletic world of pianism. If the rule remains true regarding the disappearence of the will to live after a spouse dies, the world will soon lose the greatest musician of the 20th century.

Life goes on, albeit not in the same way.

Still living in last semester. But empty.

I haven't been hit as hard by a movie in a long time as I was tonight.

"How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd." -- Alexander Pope, "Eloisa to Abelard"

Friendster breakdown by race:

142 Total Friends.
123 Asians or Asian-Americans.

I'm making good progress.

Love is a many splendored thing. Love lifts us up on wings. All you need is love.

And a King Cobra 40 to drown the existence of the past and to fade the memories into oblivion. Mementos can be forced into obscurity - the non-existence of regret because there is nothing there to regret. Eternal darkness of the empty mind.

What was I talking about again?