What I've Been Eating.

Monday, August 20th, 2012
8:00 am. Breakfast: A short instant coffee (I really need to quit these), green tea, egg whites and one piece of buttered toast, fat free Greek yogurt with almonds, honey, and fruit.
It's 10:30am and I'm kinda hungry. Could really go for some peanut butter granola right now.
10:51 a.m. Noshing on baby carrot sticks. (Cray-cray. I'm eatimg carrots, here!)

11:30 a.m. I am ready for lunch. Starved. Also, super tired. Craving a decent, strong coffee.

Saturday, August 18th, 2012.

Lunch: A small salad and seasoned cajun salmon.

Dinner: A small salad and lean beef short ribs.


Sunday, August 19th, 2012
Breakfast: Instant coffee, fat free Greek yogurt with almonds and fruit.
Lunch: A small salad and a half lean pastrami sandwich.
Mid-afternoon thing: An iced dirty chai with nonfat milk, decaf espresso.
Dinner: A tray of fish cake sushi. (I was on the run.)
The rest of dinner: Spicy pork belly.

Happy Friday, August 17th, and What I Ate.

Friday, August 17th. 2012.


Breakfast
Coffee (instant, which I'm SURE is worse for you than regular drip), a banana, granola bar (it was a rushed morning).
Mid-morning: special K bar in chocolate drizzle flavor. A few raw baby carrot sticks.

Lunch
A salad of romaine lettuce, cherry tomatoes, shredded carrots, cucumbers, broccoli, and croutons. A half pastrami and lettuce sandwich on whole grain bread.


SO I have always been a firm believer in eating healthier, and just cranking up the exercise when getting back into shape - all diets seem to just be temporary and transient in results.  BUT my old system (eat alright, exercise more) hasn't been proving to be successful, since apparently my metabolism has gone to shit, I think. 

Anyhow, am going to give the no starch, low-carbohydrates business a go of it - you've probably heard of it.  Cutting out the processed foods and refined sugars, included in the exclusions will be: rice, pasta, bread, pastries (gasp!), granola bars, crackers and such.

Some of the deets include that you're supposed to cut out the caffeine. So, considering the instant coffee packet (with already mixed in sugar and creamer powders), the granola bar, special K bar, and the handful of M&Ms I just ate, today is kinda shot. Not completely: see LUNCH above, but kinda.

Living in Los Angeles, on my own, this is a daunting task.  I loooooooooooooooove food. I anxiously anticipate the moments when I splurge (dietetically speaking) on In-N-Out burgers and fries, Village Pizzeria's pesto pizza (positively soul-satisfying), garlic fries (anywhere), banh mi sandwiches (on French bread, ahem), heaping bowls of pad thai, berry blossom cakes from Susina, and the green tea and honey cupcake from Yummy Cupcakes, Martino's teacakes, all pies in the greater LA area, ho dduk pancakes, all waffles and all pancakes, croissants, om(elet) rice, mouthwateringly spicy and crispy Mandarin orange chicken, Kogi burritos with sriracha sauce.  AND, paired with the ever-growing list of delicacies that I plan to try: Sharlene Fong's bacon maple doughnut (or anything from Semi Sweet Bakery), Joe's Pizza, Baco Mercat's many distinctly flavored dishes, Starry Kitchen's new venture at Tiara Cafe, everything I haven't ordered yet at Jitlada, et cetera, et cetera.

Will have to learn more about this diet - although the concept is quite simple, and makes sense: eat more natural foods, that grow from the ground, instead of stuff that's been manufactured and chemically altered to be packaged into a "food item."

I've decided to call it: Operation: Fit Back Into My Clothes (OFBIMC). Or maybe, Operation: Lose My Ass (OLMA).

Will have to remember to take more pictures of what I'm eating.

Never been on a diet.

Yikes.

In other news: I'm getting fat.

Last week, I went to Jitlada on Sunset Blvd. on Tuesday night.

First, the food there is of the life-altering, salivating, can't-stop-thinking-about-it for days afterwards ilk.

The next day, I went to Baco Mercat. My friend and I ordered 3 dishes.  We then went to a boba place after that.

Lest you be presuming that I am just another obese American, let me paint you a fuller picture: I bring lunches to work almost every day, make a point of at least eating something for breakfast, and never eat fast food. 

I also went running four times last week.  To no avail: I'm getting fatter.  WTF?!  Something has happened in the past 6-8 months - my metabolism has slowed/gone to shit, and no matter how much I watch what I eat and all the exercise I've been consciously and actively adding into my week, results have been slow and few if any.

 Hence - this week's and last week's 'fuck-this' mentailty.

Maybe I should start documenting what I'm eating.


WHAT I ATE
Today, Thursday, August 16th, 2012.

Breakfast: Tortilla espanola aka spanish potato omelet with salt and ketchup.
Mid-morning: A cup of plain Greek yogurt with muesli, a short coffee.
Lunch: Peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich on wheat bread. A handful of multi-grain crackers.  One tall iced, nonfat caramel macchiato (see pictured).

Also, while I was at my freelance gig today, applied to 14 jobs. Was a slow day.

--
ADDED: Dinner: I had buckwheat (soba) noodles with cajun-seasoned salmon. Fresh watermelon. So begins my healthy eating.

NOTE TO SELF: Eat more fish!

Better than this.

Sometimes I can't help but think that I'm meant for something greater than this. This place. This (temp) job. This apartment. This neighborhood. These flaky friends.

I'm temping this week. I'm covering an assistant's desk until they fill the position.  It's been about a month, and I've mentally checked out awhile ago.  I feel depressed.  And, at the moment, bloated and fat. Obese, even.

People's true colors do show - certain execs will treat you differently, or as if you're invisible, depending on who they believe you are and the power you have.  This one dick, whose office I actually temped in before, had the nerve to never acknowledge me in the office - in hallways, as he was passing by, or talking to the other exec whose office I was currently supporting.

People's true colors show.

Do I think I'm better than this job?

Yes.

Do I think I'm better than this studio loft apartment in North Hollywood?

Yes.

Do I deserve better than the selfish, flaky, habitually late and disrespectful, boring, self-absorbed-drones that some might call my friends?

Yes.

I've realized that I don't really want to hang out with anybody.  I don't like the friends that I have.  I'm so sick of them. So sick of people complaining all the time, talking about themselves all the time. No one listens. No one listens to what I have to say, or even asks how I'm doing, but will go on and on about themselves when I inquire about them.

People are selfish fucks.  But who am I to say that, because everyone's selfish, myself included? I've just gotten sick of it.

Maybe it's because I'm turning 30 next year, and something happened in my 20s.  I don't want to play the game anymore; I don't feel like keeping up these worthless surface friendships for appearances's sake; I don't want to waste precious time with disingenuous people.

I've been hitting the trails and running four times a week and watching what I eat. Do I deserve better results than the body I currently have?

Fuck, yeah.

Am I better than those selfish fucks around me that I am sick of hearing wax eternally on with nothing to say?

Yeah.

Today, I say, fuck it.

Fuck patience.

Fuck humility.

Fuck the long and tireless road of working hard, hoping someone will notice.

Talked to Mom.

Watched Jeff Who Lives At Home. Felt kinda bummed.

Talked to my Mom. Hung up feeling depressed. For some reason she's been a downer, and I've been avoiding her phone calls.

Rented Tiny Furniture on iTunes.

Sprezzatura.

Sprezzatura. Noun.

Studied nonchalance: perfect conduct or performance of something (as an artistic endeavor) without apparent effort.

It's my 29th birthday tomorrow.

I can't help but think of everything that lies ahead of me - everything, that, I hope to God, is certain to lie ahead of me.
I can't help but think of all the things I have not yet accomplished, how tragically much everything means to me, how many disappointments people have showed themselves to be.

Back in LA, again. Back to the hustle, the dreams, the rough roads, the ups and downs and the jumping through hoops and more hoops.  We're back here, I guess.

So it's here, again.  Things are uncertain, unpredictable, unstable.

The truth is, I've been stacking up the credit card bills.  I've decided to start temping again, while pursuing real estate part-time.

I'm almost 30 years old.  No one ever tells you that the moments of self-doubt never seem to die out - there's always some strain of it around, and kicks up from time to time.

I've decided, also, that this is it - 2012. This is my year.  This is the year that it's going to happen. This is the year that it's happening. This is my year.

2012, baby.

And if no one buys me cake tomorrow, I'll buy it myself.

Blogging from Los Angeles.

We are here.

Let's get started.

Can we hurry up and get there, to THE BIG DREAM, already?  Working on making it a reality, people.

Just wait. Just you wait.

OD'ing. And, Chest Pains.

OD'd on Tostitos lime-flavored chips and sour cream & onion dip today. Trying to finish the bag. Sad that I am almost finished the bag and pretty sure I'm the only one whose been eating them.

Realized that I've been eating junk food lately - barrel of cheese balls, said Tostitos, and Trader Joe's Kettle Corn popcorn. Usually I'll only have one junk food option - but I guess right now it's a blue moon. Wouldn't think that much of it except I started having random moments of chest pain. Heartburn? Indigestion? Mini-heart attack? I don't know. Heart palpitation? Heart murmur? Yeah. I don't know those, either.

At any rate, I need to start eating more heart-healthy. My Dad has high blood pressure+cholesterol+triglycerides. My body is feeling the malnourishment. And, I'm only 28. I should have more energy than this.

Picked up some strawberries, blueberries, bananas, spinach, grape tomatoes, and soy milk today. No more junk for awhile.

New Move, New Doubts, New Admissions.

So, here we are again, Self.

Somehow, we've found ourselves in a place we've never been before. The things we've planned for ourselves didn't tick away the way we'd expected or wished or dreamed for ourselves.

Change of plans. Again.

It's now or never, Self.

Self, don't fail me now...that's what I feel like is going on.

All these moments of clarity. But the fact that everything is always subject to change is a bit scary.

Fear of failure is even bigger than before - because I've been to the dance before, I've become the jaded cynic in the Los Angeles landscape of hopes and dreams. If anything, I've learned that my time in LA wasn't a fluke. I'm almost 30 now and I'm choosing to go back; I choose to make LA my home.

Plus, I hate the cold.

I'm 28 years old. I've definitely felt like a failure at different milestones and done quite a lot of things that didn't pan out well. I've taken risks, I've taken leaps of faith. And I thought fear of failure was something I had before - little did I know that its magnitude would only grow, dormant but building all the while it quietly sat inside of my insecurities.

Am taking another leap of faith. Am now going to pursue a completely new career while getting back to pursuing my real one - the one that it's all for, the one that makes it all worth it - my dream to become a writer.

The disastrous and volatile nature of the real estate market is what I'm jumping into. At least the office I'm joining seems pretty supportive and friendly and great and all, welcomes me in. I haven't told my parents yet - best not to give them something to nag and obsess about and criticize and just give them the news after I've proven myself and they have little to fret and harp upon. If I'm going to have a day job, it's at least going to be one with a ton of flexibility. But it'll be tough in the beginning, learning the ropes, establishing my network, actually earning my first few commissions, et cetera.

And all of that is simply to support my career as a writer. And now, stand-up comedy career. Which really goes back to the crux of being a writer: stand-up comics are really writers.

No, I'm not sure how this will all pan out. And yes, I'm a bit terrified that it'll be a passing whim that may not amount to much of anything except for a learning experience. But I'm giving it my best.

I admit it, I've got fears. I've struggled and continue to struggle with discipline as a writer. I've been depressed. I'm probably depressed right now. I have stress acne.

I'm not a kid anymore. I don't sit pretty with the fact that I'll be crashing on a friend's couch until I find an apartment. I just can't handle crashing at a friend's place (even whilst visiting from out of town) because I've gotten too old to be comfortable with that anymore. So, I uncomfortably stay at a friend's while I uncomfortably begin a new career that will take time before it supports my real career, while I develop my real passion and career as a writer, until that takes off and I can quit everything else and just write.

It's all very humbling.

God, you really keep wanting me to rough it. If not in a foreign country, then you keep the road pretty bumpy if I'm back in the good ol' US of A.

It's been so stressful living back in my parents' house, and I honestly will have to say that I can feel a resentment building. The disappointment and hurt I have toward my mother is a big ass brick wall of baggage, resulting in more budding resentment. As an adult, you become more perceptive of people, how they are, their personalities, their communication skills, patterns of behavior, nuances of moods and speech and all that crap.

Another reason this move to LA - and getting out of the house - is a good thing. No - a great thing. I don't want to hate my parents. What sucks is that there's so much damage that's been done to the relationship I have with my mother - I see all of her flaws. It does make it more real, though.

Ignorance would be bliss. But I live in the real world. And in the real world, I see the extremely hurtful way my mother communicates toward me and the relentless way in which she doesn't listen to anything I say. And then, I realize, that this is how she has parented me for 28 years, this is how she is as a mother toward her daughter, this is how she shows love, this is why part of who I am and certain aspects of my personality are the way they are: she is practically ruffian in her caustic and perpetual negative criticisms of me. It is cultural, it is her personality; it is largely the nature of many female Asian women towards their children.

The worst part is that she doesn't listen to me when I call her out on it: I tell her that most of her words spoken are negative criticisms of me and rarely, rarely, ever positive. She doesn't listen to me; she hears me, and then asserts, every single time I've mentioned it or called her out on it, that I'm being oversensitive. Wouldn't you think, if you've heard something a million times from someone, that there might be a shred of truth in it? Or, if someone repeats something to you, about something they find completely hurtful and damaging, they want you to CHANGE and DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT? But she keeps brushing it aside, doesn't listen, because, even though I'm almost 30 years old, I'm her daughter, she sees me as a child, treats me as such, and asserts that I'm being oversensitive, and since I'm her kid, that what I say has no validity to it. Like a fucking toddler.

I just want her to shut up. Listen. Actually stop, shut up, and listen. Seriously. Because if you're my mother, and I keep getting hurt by your words, wouldn't you want to stop hurting me? Or is it easier to deny that I'm right, because then it would mean admitting to the fact that everything you say is damaging negative criticism and has been for 30 years?

And thus her acerbic criticisms continue. And suddenly I have a flashback of how I grew up, of me being this little kid and never hearing positive words from my mother, the sole and most influential presence in my life since my workaholic absent father was little seen or heard.

Even today, now, at moments when it crosses my mind, I get upset. So I try not to think about it - or else I'll get too worked up over it.

I'm really looking forward to moving to LA. Get my career established, get writing, get noticed. And, getting the hell out of my parents' house. And, the dating pool is dry over here. I'll admit it - I've been lonely. I want a boyfriend. I want a real man in my life, someone who's there for me. A man, not a boy. I want to start dating again - where there are actually single men around.

You never know when you'll try something new. These are unexpected times. I really want to settle in my career, though.

God, help me.

Stand-up. No - I mean, that's what I'm doing with my life.

Quick update, folks!

Had a bit of an epiphany on my last trip to LA.

Firstly, I learned that many friends, even though we're all adults are still NOT CLEAN PEOPLE. Sure, they all look normal and completely functional as human beings in a social context, but not necessarily so when they are at home. In the comfort of their own apartments.

You never know who the dirty ones are until you see how they live.

Also - there are very few friends I'm comfortable staying with, especially at 28 years old, and a)fine with staying in their home, and b)fine with crashing on a futon/couch/non-bed piece of furniture.

More milestones hit - getting too old to crash on friend's couches - would MUCH rather be staying at a hotel.

More life epiphany stuff:

2. I want to get my career back on track, continue developing my skills, and get established as a writer.

3. I am now going to pursue stand-up comedy. After attending a random open mic night at the Improv in LA, I was selected to perform a 3 minute set. I was so terrified and nervous that I thought I was going to throw up. Instead, I didn't chicken out and actually got a few laughs! Now that, that, was quite the revelation: ME, an instinctively shy person, whom actually doesn't like being the center of attention and uncomfortable in front of any camera, not to mention onstage. Yeah. I'm still shocked, too.

4. I am going to get back to LA and begin working in real estate - commercial and residential. Am a bit nervous about this since it is a complete career change, however, am finally getting around to using my CA real estate license that I worked so hard to get a couple years ago. Since it's all referrals and commission, a lot more pressure. A bit anxious about how long it'll take for me to make those first few sales.

5. About friendship:

The older you get, the more you are able to discern about people - their personalities, mannerisms, dispositions, and their flaws. Sometimes you learn that you really can't stand being around certain people, or that you're such incredibly different people that you wonder how you've become friends in the first place. But, also, you realize that they're your friends - you choose your friends, so you kind of have to accept them for who they are, or else drop them from your life.

Sadly, I think there may be one that's ready to drop from the circle.

So - am now packing my bags and heading for LA in a few short weeks. Yikes!!!!

Go! In the direction of your dreams.

That is all.

Why do we forget this stuff so quickly?

Plotting my escape.

Got 1 job rejection email yesterday.

Checked my gmail a million times today. Must've been every 5 minutes. Not that it was necessary.

I don't get THAT many emails.

I unsubscribed from a few mailing lists today.

Woke up a little late, started my writing hour and read through and edited my script this morning. Didn't adhere strictly. Discipline is no easy street.

Went to lunch. Took pictures for the website and future marketing purposes. Went home, watched Once Upon A Time on Hulu. More emails.

Scoured apartment postings.

Depressing. Rent has gone up since I've left LA.

Can't wait to get out of the house. For my own sanity. And health. And happiness.

Will be praying for this to go with me relatively unscathed.

Yikes.

Hello. I guess I'm up again.

The strange thing about knowing my next step and the events that will transpire in the next few months due to the decisions that I've made about my life is that - I'm strangely in no rush. There is no resounding fervency, heated passion, blind naivete, youthful abandon-and-stuff, electric excitement of discovering something new and unknown for the first time.

There is a known destination, a few more recognized goals, as well as some vague outlines of paths on how to achieve them.

There is a bit more caution. A bit more fear. More pressure. More at stake. More stress, and, undoubtedly, more baggage.

There are losses that are already well known and understood, experienced.

I first moved to Los Angeles seven years ago - back in 2005, a fresh college grad. I still have a pair of jeans from that year that no longer fit me.

There was always something about LA that sat a little bit in discomfiture - a disquietude - something about the raging disparity between the socioeconomic classes so closely living together in the same metropolitan area; how so many struggle when their neighbors rest easy. It's a disconcerting thing.

And there was always something depressing about the city - the dirtiness of the real LA, the streets that you don't see in movies; the traffic, the money wasted on parking and traffic tickets.

But, then again, it is the city where dreams are pursued and stars born. It is a place where passion burns hot and creative hopefuls so heartily and sincerely pursue their dreams and their loves.

So, for me, it is where I am going to get back to pursuing my dream. Because, in the end, that's what I really want for myself this year. I want to get focused on my career, get established, get writing. Get back to the task at hand.

I have to stop worrying so much about what people will think. Or if I feel embarrassed or not.

Life is short. If your heart's not really in it, what's the point?

So I realized that my heart wasn't really into disappearing abroad this year. And being out of my comfort zone all the time, every day, in a foreign country. And it isn't into sticking around the suburbs until the semi-okay job that I could withstand doing for awhile rolls around. I kept thinking about LA. Dreaming about the things I wanted.

But when is it right to follow that? How do you know it's not just something passing? People want to take vacations all the time, they talk about it - doesn't mean that they would fit in. Doesn't mean that it would be economically feasible or personally responsible - just because you want something doesn't mean you should do it.

So how do you know if it's something you want, you truly want for yourself, for your life, for your career, and not just some passing fad that you only want on some mildly entertaining level?

Damn. No wonder I feel like I've been drifting from career possibility to possibility for the past 8 months.

I guess you don't really know - who really knows anything for sure? You just gotta take a risk sometimes. The things in life that are worth having usually involve some sort of risk.

I left LA and moved to Prague because I didn't feel like moving and finding another apartment. When I left, I didn't see myself as ever coming back.

And then this trip to my friend's wedding in LA happened, and the realization of the many things I really missed, enjoyed, loved about LA.

And that open mic night happened at the Improv. And I performed stand-up comedy.

And I wanted to get up and do it again. And try my hand at stand-up. In LA. And I just didn't see that happening if I jetted off again. And thus delay it for a year.

I guess I hope I'm not going to LA just because I don't feel a strong enough pull from anywhere else. Because I don't - have a strong enough leaning toward anywhere else - I even tried. So, I guess, I checked around to see where else would have me, and it didn't seem like there were any other claims. Perhaps that is where I am meant to be - LA.

And, I don't want to put too much stress on the open mic night as a strong pull. It's a pull - but not one of the 3,000-mile-move-inducing ilk.

But I suppose it's another thing being out of my comfort zone, in another way, by pursuing my dreams of becoming a (working) writer in LA. Of being in a position where I could make mistakes. I guess I have to at least try. Even though, seven years later, I probably have more fears than I did before.

I remember how I was back in 2005.

So...fearless.

The past seven years I've seen and heard about all the success stories, but I've also heard about the starving artists. The still struggling young professionals. I've learned more of what mistakes there are that could be made, the ones that I could make.

Perhaps God is giving me an opportunity to be fearless.

Wow. I'd forgotten about that. If God is with us, who can be against us?

I probably have gotten more fears of failure over the years. Man.

And if you don't give up, you'll never fail. Right?

But, I guess I may not have such strong, impassioned, juvenile pulls in life directions that I once did. Sometimes things may subtly suggest. Perhaps I'm supposed to know myself well enough by now to detect those things?

The problem of not knowing what you want is that you can't make any decisions in life because of it.

But, people always seem to end up doing exactly what they're supposed to do, in the cities they're supposed to be in.

I wonder, if I wasn't a writer, I wouldn't be such a neurotic fish about examining what I want and the reasons why I want them. And questioning everything, analyzing, pondering, prodding. What I found slightly unsettling was that I didn't go through all the thinking and planning of how I would orchestrate my move back to LA - I just kind of floated around to that decision. And I'm used to planning. Organizing. But this didn't happen. I just kind of went there.

So, basically, all these thoughts are a vast minutiae of what my usual or expected amount of research and contemplation would've been before reaching such a monumental decision.

Maybe if I was a man I wouldn't be thinking so much, so naturally, instinctively. I'd probably just be thinking about sex. And women.

I guess I don't want to go into it impulsively. I don't want to make such a major decision based on emotions alone, and figuring and recognizing that is an animal of its own.

But the rejection of the job offer wasn't that difficult to send over. The decision to head back to LA didn't hit me with a resounding gong like the undeniable passion I had when I first moved there. There was no defining moment, no dramatic sign, nothing. It was just a thought. And it just sort of floated over me. Yes, I'll move back to LA. Yes, I want to establish myself in my career. Yes, I want to do this. I guess strong emotions would've made decision-making easier; but life doesn't always point you with blatant instructions.

I feel like I've been waiting my turn at a game of bowling or Scrabble. Everyone else has been playing their frames, picking up and placing letters down, forming their next few moves. This whole time I've been watching everyone else play - only, I'm not restless for my turn because I haven't known what the heck my move would be. It's weird to not know what your next play will be. It means that you are at a standstill, you can't move forward or backward with no plan, no strategy - you can only sit and wait until you know what your next move will be.

I guess all the players have made their moves, and finally, I've come to a decision and I'm up again.

Time to make a move.

New Things. And, Finally, Some Decisions Made!

Received 1 job email rejection yesterday.

In the past two and a half weeks, I accepted one job offer for a teaching gig in Korea.

I also had one meeting-slash-interview at a real estate office while in Los Angeles.

I had a request for one interview for a job in the suburbs of Philadelphia, for an hourly gig, which is basically just to hold me over for a bit and get me out of the house some.

I just turned down the offer for the job in Korea tonight.

I learned on this past trip, to my friend's wedding, which I used as an excuse for a vacation and made into 2 1/2 weeks of bouncing around Napa Valley and then catching up with old friends in LA (I even stayed at 3 different friend's places in 2 weeks in LA), a couple of things.

One: I learned that I love a lot of things about LA. I have a heart for LA. I really see myself as living back there in the future, which I hadn't done before - I thought I was done with the SoCal chapter of my life.

Two: I learned that I want to pursue stand-up comedy. Not sure how serious I am about this. Just that I can't wait to get up at open mic night again. Yikes. Hope I have the guts to do it again.

Three: I am much more fragile than previously presumed. Not sure why I have this notion that I'm somewhat invincible.

These are the physical illnesses I experienced during my 2-and-a-half week trip:

1. Caught a cold

2. Got severe motion sickness from the long car ride (11 hours), was so nauseated!

3. Got hunger pains (which my body was reeling from for nearly a week with weakness & low appetite)

4. Was exposed to bedbugs (gross! hope that never happens again!), and

5. Had an allergic reaction and busted out in terrible hives (quite gruesome, am still on meds from when I returned on Sunday and had to head to the hospital). I hope that never happens EVER AGAIN. Had never happened to me before. Am partially convinced that I'm allergic to guinea pigs, on account of a friend's roommate's pet guinea pig I was exposed to (the only thing I could think of that was something new I had encountered).

I have never experienced so many extreme illnesses (and new ones, at that) in such a short period of time.

And tonight, I realized, with defining clarity, that I want to move back to LA.

Yikes.

But, then again - boo-yah! Half the battle has been won - getting to the part where I had to figure that out.

I don't want to put off another year from my dream, my career, of becoming an established writer, of writing screenplays, of working in the entertainment industry. I could live in Korea for a year and teach, but it's another year of schlepping myself off to another foreign country, of being outside of my comfort zone constantly, and getting homesick and toughing it out - and - I'm 28 years old. I want to get established in my career. Pursue my dreams. Fall in love.

On a completely unrelated note, I ordered Proactiv online today. Yesterday I had seen a slew of those infomercials on TV. The wash my dermatologist gave me isn't doing squat. Going for that much-discussed/marketed stuff. Goodbye, adult/stress acne - your days are numbered.

Weekend Round-Up.

January 5th: Applied for 1 job. Had 1 phone interview.

January 6th: Received 1 job rejection email. Had 1 job interview with a commercial real estate broker in Los Angeles. Received 1 job offer from phone interview the evening prior.

The job offer is for a teaching job abroad, at a public school - so, there are decent working hours and pretty sweet benefits. So - yes! Amazing! Great! A job offer!

But if I accept it, that means I will be moving to Korea next month. So...

Yikes!

The funny thing is, I may actually take it. Am thinking that I'd like to work abroad, save up some moolah for a year, then move back to LA.

Total job offers: 1.

Thursday.

Starting to feel more like a normal, healthy human being again.

Got up and did a TJ's run. To my old neighborhood Trader Joe's in Toluca Lake. Bought some yogurt and fruit. Had a salad later for lunch. Then a horchata to drink at Porto's. Then picked up some teacakes at Martino's (my first!) - delicious. Saved the other two for some friends.

Made plans for dinner at Islands for some fine burgers and drinks.

Feeling more like a normal person.

Albeit, a bloated one. And also, really tired by the afternoon.

Got an email from my agency and have another job interview set up for this evening as a phone call for a potentially fairly sweet gig teaching abroad.

Set up a meet-and-greet/job-interview-ish type meeting for tomorrow in LA.

Applied to 1 job online in the industry.

Total interviews today: 1.

Total job applications: 1.

I now love Martino's bakery. They have free wifi and everything - and it is not packed with people. AND the teacakes don't cost the same as a gallon of gas. Take that, cupcake snobs!

Sick lady.

I feel slightly lightheaded. A faint, dull headache. A heaviness around my head. When I close my eyes, there is a soothing feel to it. My legs were cold so I curled up in a blanket. Laundry time has finally arrived and I'm wearing my cropped running pants.

I've been feeling sick ever since the disastrously long car ride from Napa to LA. 8:30 a.m. - we hop into the car after picking up some breakfast. I had a multi-grain bagel and some cream cheese and jam. Should've grabbed a bottle of water for the road. We make a convoluted and hilly way to a stop at the San Andreas Fault line a few hours later. I am fighting the beginnings of carsickness. Back on the road. I take a nap. We make a quick stop around 2:00 pm. to pick up some sandwiches and fill up the tank. I buy some water and ginger ale at the gas station. I switch seats with our other friend and sit shotgun instead of the backseat. I can't finish my roast beef Subway sandwich or my bag of chips. I try to go back to sleep.

Discomfort at sitting in a limited-movement position ensues. Achiness of the back. But the worst is my building nausea, a knot growing in the pit of my stomach and sharp needles of a headache scraping along my temples. I drink some water, maybe it's dehydration. Not a great combo, coupled with motion sickness.

Had to hit the restroom again so had my friend stop the car at a gas station about 5:30 p.m. Fully nauseated by then. Tried to munch on a few more chips, thought eating at least a little something might help.

Dropped off other friend around 6:45 p.m. Stunned when my friend (driving) decided to stop by the market (which, thankfully, was closed), after all of her anxiousness at getting home (and off the road), and then fill up her tank again (basically a few minutes from her house). Was even more stunned/pissed/annoyed/hurt that she decided to take the FUCKING CANYON ROADS from West LA to Studio City when she knew that I was feeling so sick. My. God. Cannot believe a human being, let alone a close, personal friend, could be so insensitive. Thought I was going to throw up in the car the entire way. An awful end to our trip to Napa.

And I even started the trip fighting a cold, which got worse, and then better. But all I can remember is the trauma of the ride + the ensuing hunger pains.

Began getting hunger pains that night - if you've ever gotten them, you know how agonizing they are. Twisted knots of gut-wrenching pain, makes you double-over and wince. You feel nauseous yet you feel your insides starving at the same time. I was getting chills and felt cold throughout the next 24 to 48 hours. Chills and headaches.

The next morning (Monday), I struggled to rise out of bed. Knots of pain flashes in my gut. Almost like menstrual cramps, except, excruciating. Scrounged around in my friend's apartment. Managed to hold down some rice cakes - the only thing I could find that would be plain enough for my stomach to handle. Went okay. Started to feel a bit better.

Made plans with another friend and hung out with her for most of the day. Started off with lunch. I bought some water and ginger ale for the day. Feeling super weak - moved like an old lady all day. Had searing bouts of pain in my stomach from time to time, but was good to be outside and get some air. Ended up watching a movie last night. Had some waves of nausea in the theater, but was able to push through it. Munched on some crackers for dinner. Was tempted to buy fries at the food court so my stomach would have some solid food, but didn't.

Woke up this morning with no flashes of agonizing, stabbing pain in my stomach. Still weak, tired, and slightly exhausted, though. No major waves of nausea. Slight headache.

Concluded that I, as an older woman, can no longer endure long car rides. Watch out, Future Husband. Road trips are not in our vacationing future.