AndTheWorld

NT: HAYS. You punch him yet? :D
Me: :D :D :D

New Trainer catches on quickly. That, or I have, “I’m going to beat your ass” written all over my face.

When I was a lot younger (and when I had friends), I knew this guy whose mom always told me to keep shoes by my bed, in case somebody were to rob you and you needed a quick getaway. Obviously, she was your typical Asian mom, since no part of the argument made any sense. Because if somebody were to try to rob me while I was sleeping, I wouldn’t try to run away. I’d hide in the closet and call the cops.

But let’s say that John Cusack’s 2012 were to happen and I needed to escape the world from cracking under me and I didn’t have his cool limo or jet plane. Out of my entire closet full of shoes, I would pick my new running shoes. That would be the third time these shoes are allowed to be worn :B (One being a mom — moms are exempt from my evil glares for wearing ugly shoes and two being at a gym). Because I can run forever in these <3 <3

Bryce and I soaked up the last of his summer (his summer, since summer stopped being so important to me when I have no school to return to) by eating pastrami sandwiches at PCC and then wandering around Pasadena (as usual). We stopped by an old vintage thrift shop and ran into our old friend from the art class that I met Bryce in :D And then I bought this hat, because I felt that I would regret it if I didn’t. The hat is by a company named Champ, with a tagline, “Feel the Felt!” The felt feels wonderful. Apparently it was a mid-priced hat back in the 1940s. I’m no hat snob, but the quality of the hat surpasses all of the crappy ones I’ve been wearing / seeing around lately :o

I just need to grow out my hair or to curl it out in order to pull the hat off. I’d also need a new dress. Actually, I’m just looking for an excuse to go shopping again . . . even though I’ve already spent far too much money this week.

I also picked up a new pair of running shoes (but I won’t show them here, because all tennis shoes are hideous). I hurt myself last Monday while running =/ I thought it would get better as the week progressed, but it only got worse. On Wednesday, I actually had to stop and get off the treadmill because it hurt so much. Usually it isn’t the body parts that gives up on me when I run — it’s my willpower and stamina that gives up. I had to get on the lameo stationary bikes and admit defeat! So on Thursday, I asked my trainer what was up with it (new trainer is a bit of a hardass when it comes to training and I can’t get away with distracting him with my incessant babbling like I did with my old one, but he is such a sweetie pie~) and he poked and prodded at my shoes and told me that I needed new ones :P I had been meaning to pick up a new pair of running shoes anyway. I’ve been wearing these crappy Payless ones until now because I wasn’t sure how serious I would be with exercising. My trainer told me where to go find the shoes and I went to the store to be fitted for new ones. The New Balance store on Arroyo Parkway in Pasadena is great n_n I even got to run around in the shoes before I bought them. The person at the store (his name was Jeff, and he was great) measured my foot and watched me walk to determine what shoe would do best for me :D I looooove good service, since I wouldn’t know what to buy if I had to choose on my own =x I can’t wait to run in these! :D

The inner-hipster in me is screaming, “Nooooooooooooooooooo. Why are you getting so excited over tennis shoes?” and I am screaming back, “I don’t knowwwwwwwwwww. I wish Chuck Taylors and beautiful heels were good to your feet but they are not!”. Sigh. I wish style and function worked cohesively. There is no way I can get away with wearing my new running shoes without looking like a mom or somebody off to the gym. Furthermore, Inner-Hipster-Karen has no idea why anybody without some massive feet problem would ever choose to wear tennis shoes with regular clothes. Ew, and ugh. And yay, new running shoes! Geebus, Karen.

I haven’t voluntarily stayed up this late on a workday in a long time. I’m probably not going to be a happy camper in the morning. It’s been so hot lately that I’ve been having trouble sleeping. Unfortunately, the hardest part of my job is trying to keep awake.

I’m building a small library up at my desk at work. This morning, my supervisor gave me two books that she thought I should read. Hehe, I’ve been re-reading my Murakami novels again until now. Pretty soon I’m going to be able to memorize entire books. Whatever, I’m a die hard. I recently finished Hear the Wind Sing and Pinball, 1973 by him. They were Murakami’s first two novels, but apparently he didn’t like them very much so they were never released in the United States. I had them special ordered from Japan :P The nameless protagonist from A Wild Sheep Chase and Dance, Dance, Dance was my favorite of all of Murakami’s men, and now I’m glad to finally have read everything I can about him.

I was reading Hear the Wind Sing on the bus on Friday when a guy, Ethan, asked what I was reading. I showed him the book and he smiles, and went “I’ve read that!” Ethan and I don’t really talk much on the bus because he doesn’t speak much English and I speak even less Mandarin. He also doesn’t take the same line anymore and was only on my bus that day because he was having dinner with friends :/ However, he’s always very nice to me and makes an effort to talk. We talked about Murakami novels all the way until he had to get off, in his broken English, my awful Mandarin, and awkward hand gestures. He has three versions of Norwegian Wood and owns IQ84, even though he doesn’t read Japanese. Ethan and I would probably get along very well if we could understand each other (simply because we try so hard to communicate at all). Hehe, guess my boss at work was right. Better pull out that Rosetta Stone Chinese . . . .

Mm. This blog entry wasn’t supposed to end up with me blathering away about my favorite author again, but lately, reading his books is all I’ve been doing. Blogs are supposed to chronicle your day, and my days are not very interesting. Sometimes, hours goes by without a single phone call and I would just sit and read right through it. Everything that needs to be done that I can do myself is finished before 10:30am, and everything on the internet doesn’t hold my attention past noon. After lunch, I just sit at my desk and immerse myself in Murakami’s writing. I’m back in J’s bar, chasing cats, and going whole days living in my metaphorical well without saying anything worth a thing to me. Oddly enough, I’m okay with that.

(By the way, the new header was entirely coincidental. Also, it is outdated. My library at home is not that neat anymore and half of the books on the shelf have been given away as gifts, loaned out, or is residing in one of my bags.)

Bryce: Those trees look like they’re made out of skin.
Karen: My god, they do @____@ They probably are, you know.
Bryce: They look like somebody grabbed human skin and wrapped it around the tree.
Karen: They probably grew the tree inside of a body. For fertilization. You know, so that the body just fused with the tree.
Bryce: You could probably find arms down there. The trees look so smooth!
Karen: Yep. Babies skin. Probably grown from the Chem Lab and then stored in the dungeon back there.

Few things:
1. You can pretty much expect these conversations when you’re around me or Bryce. I’m glad he’s back in LA! :D
2. The Caltech campus in Pasadena enchanting. It is fused with both modern architecture and architecture from another time period, and has the most beautiful gardens and statues around. It feels disconnected from reality. It’s probably true too. Caltech is full of nerds who have probably already cracked the secret to time travel, except they failed and that’s why the campus just looks like it fell out of the sky.
3. There are some weird plant life on Caltech.
4. There is a building on campus that has no doors. We could not find an entrance and we couldn’t figure out what it was for. It was a beautifully decorated box from all we could gather about it. Hence, the dungeon. I’ll bet the nerds who actually attend the school knows what it’s for and how to open it, but the passcode to the entrance is far beyond the comprehension of a history major who wasn’t really good at history and a kid who draws cars and aliens.