Unlike many times before, this time preparing for my international travel…I was very stressed out.
Paperwork, packing, eating, showering…but all done now, I hope!
Unlike many times before, this time preparing for my international travel…I was very stressed out.
Paperwork, packing, eating, showering…but all done now, I hope!
“Let’s be spontaneous,” I said last weekend.
As the words tumbled out of me, I knew how it was very unlike me. I never was the one to suggest spontaneity. I rarely if ever was the one to pull someone else by hand to “let me show you something”. I don’t shout in glee from speed, with air blowing through my messy hair.
But there it was. A momentary glimpse past my usual reserve. A sudden desire for temporary ecstasy. In pursuit of delight.
We got there, but it was closed. So no slides.
Earlier, we walked past a swing. I did not mention my hesitation on getting on—not wanting in the spotlight, but also desiring to swing freely through the air. Faster, higher! Is that what would go through my mind? Push me!
Instead, I scampered up to the destination of the slides and scampered back down.
We made it! I said in delight.
What if I could be completely honest? What if I could be…radically honest?
As I walked down the stairs, I heard the familiar melody. He was strumming a recognizable series of chords on the guitar.
I hesitated for a moment as I pulled out my wallet to tap my transit card into the BART. As the chords continued, nostalgia tugged at me. Vague memories of unrequited love, difficult friendships in college, mistakes, successes…all these emotions…flashed before me. In mere seconds.
Then he started singing, “Kaaar…ma police”
Not quite the same as Thom Yorke, so I continued into the station. But I found myself wanting to relive those moments in college again.
Or top 6?
As I sat listening to today’s UX talk, I wondered who they were.
It’s easy to answer why I do what I do. Why user experience? they may ask. Because I am fascinated with people, I say.
But realistically, it’s because I want to learn more about myself. I want to know why I am the way I am. And there’s hope inside me…that by other understanding others, I can understand myself.
I glanced around the room when the speaker made the conclusion. There are 4 people that are close to you. Sometimes 6, but usually 4. There are usually 4 that you participate with the most on Facebook…each day.
Is it your spouse? Your sibling? Your roommate? Someone you consider your best friend? A classmate? A neighbor? A coworker?
And most importantly, is it mutual?
Sticking along the family theme, this year it was rebuilding lost connections.
Describe a defining moment or series of events that has affected your life this year.
Last year, it was during my adventure of 100s. This year it was during my adventure in a foreign, unknown place.
What did you eat this year that you will never forget? What went into your mouth & touched your soul?
“Let me tell you something,” she started and she said something that suddenly clarified everything. Last year, it was an action of committment and this year, it was a moment of clarity, sincere belief and friendship
What was the best moment that could serve as proof that everything is going to be alright? And how will you incorporate that discovery into the year ahead?
The following day, I was planning to do a century bike ride so I had invited Joe and his girlfriend out to dinner. Pasta dinner to be exact at Valencia Pizza and Pasta. Earlier in the day, I had been moping about my demise, my agony, what I perceived as self-destruction. I needed comfort from my best friends and I sought Joe.
As our pasta arrived in the restaurant, we chatted about innocuous subjects—the awkwardly 90s-like patrons around us, how I was expected to make balsamic dressing by myself with balsamic vinegar and olive oil, their plans over the holidays, the funny comic Carolyn drew posted on Facebook and the incredibly delicious garlic bread.
And then I described my dilemmas. I drew a picture in the air, waving my hands. I imitated the past conversations—the words said and the words forgotten. I could fear the tear inside me, the stabbing wound…as I continued lamenting.
Joe comforted me with his funny comments—his hilarity that I always appreciated in the midst of disaster.
But then Carolyn stopped Joe. She gave me a long stare across the table. I always had difficulty in connecting with her, always trying my best to connect with my close friend’s girlfriend. “Let me tell you something,” she started. “This is always consistently true: 99% of men are stupid.”
Joe laughed, “I don’t think that I am the 1%.”
I paused for a second, contemplating…swirling the spaghetti around the plain tomato sauce and bits of meatballs.
“Why yes,” I said. “You are so completely correct.”