Ode to Brooke

My parents surprised me last Wednesday with a new 2007 Toyota Pruis. He's beautiful and I'm in love..It feels as if I gave birth to him. He's a masterpeice - His sleek body and curves imitates the mountains to the North. His soft interior creates a ying-yang to his strong-built exterior. And he comes equipped with a 6-disc changer and air conditioning.

This gift can only leave a bittersweet taste in my mouth as I finish another chapter in my life and leaving it behind in the past. My Brooke, who taught me how drive, got me in my first accident, assisted in my attempts to sneak out, was there for me all the years in college. She was always there for me. After I graduated high school, I remember turning to Dang who was sitting in the passenger seat and said, "I'm going to drive Brooke up until grad school." And now, years later she's still here. But sadly, I have to let her go. With this new sense of maturity, I think it's the proper time to say goodbye.

Hello Socrates. He represents what's ahead, adulthood, my future.

As nauseating as that all sounds, I can't help but to be so nostalgic and attached. In essence, I'm just sad to see my car go.

wacky, tacky and possibly true

I had an epiphany at work while I was drinking my morning coffee and surrounded by the jungle of papers that I've ignored since finals. Right now, I feel like I'm a mess - fresh from college with absolutely no direction. I can't even predict what lies ahead and I am paving the road to no where. I need someone to point me in a direction...any direction. 'Round and 'round, I go..where I stop, who the fuck knows?

I look at the jungle that sits before me. I reach into the drawer that screams for organization as I shuffle through it looking for my chapstick only to realize that it's in my jacket pocket. I grab my jacket that I hastily threw over my chair when I walked in the office and patted-down in search for it. I finally find it, swipe some balm on my lips and throw it back into the sea of pens in my desk drawer.

I step back and look at the disarray that epitomizes my situation - my room is in shambles, my car is disgusting, my credit history is worse, my iTunes library is out of whack, my books are like buried treasures, my purse that I don't even carry because it's filled with old receipts, my closet...

Perhaps if I clean, it'll move the obscurity in front of me and I can finally make a rational decision. As stupid as it sound, a little cleaning is probably all it takes...

parenthood

My friend recently confessed that he's ready to start looking for Ms. Right and tie the knot. He wants his 2.5 kids, soccer games, mini-vans and play dates. He has the name of his children already picked out and is already finding room for them in his next film. All that Leave It To Beaver shit...it leaves me thinking, "When did 24 become the new 35?"

Quarter-life crisis, at it's best.