After taking my time getting out of the house, I went to a coffee shop in the attempt to get some writing done. Reading through old notes scribbled on a page produced no inspiration or ideas, but there was one note that made absolutely no sense to me.

Things without an H
hat at
hair air

Normally, I can recall why I wrote something down (ie. asparagus), but I can’t figure that one out or why I wrote it.

So now I’m reading through my old journals with the hope that some thought or memory will trigger something.

MWF French 101 CC246 1030-1148
MW PoliSci 541 SM1005 1230-218
TR PoliSci 550 SO0004 1130-118

January 12, 2009: I have never felt that way when dancing with anyone…I love salsa dancing…

March 14, 2009: In all honesty, last night was certainly without a doubt my first real date and my first first date, which makes me smile because my friend and I were talking about how weird it was that I’ve been in love and had all these long invested relationships but no first date.

March 20, 2009: I’m waiting to board my plane to New York. It is slightly delayed. Even though I’m here at the airport with bags packed, I don’t really feel like I’m leaving. I don’t feel like I’m going to Madrid.

March 24, 2009: We went to a bar. They got this wine and coke drink, but I couldn’t really taste it since I’m sick. The bar was super tiny and crowded…Later, we went to a discoteca. I talked to one of her friends from Switzerland. It was interesting because we talked in a combination of French, Spanish, and English. We danced a little bit. As the night went on, the music switched to American songs like I Kissed a Girl, Disturbia, and Single Ladies.

My friend offered to walk me home, but I declined being relatively competent in cities. I figured I could make it two blocks back to my apartment, and I felt bad since he had to walk back to his place. When the door to the building was closing, a man pushed the door open and followed me in. I went up the stairs, and at the first floor, he grabbed me saying something in Spanish…

The next day we went to the police station to file a report. It was okay, and now I have an interesting souvenir. I had a lot of interesting experiences. It was the first time getting into a scuffle. The first time someone has physically hurt me. First time in a police car. First time in a police station.

All in all, I’m pretty proud of myself for being capable of fending off a mugger. Yes, I was pretty dependent on my friend to walk me to and from home a lot for the rest of the trip, but I feel kind of independent to be able to function and protect myself in 4.5 inch heels.

March 28, 2009: We went to the Prado. Overall, I liked the museum a lot, but my favorite part was the Francis Bacon exhibit.

The train to Valladolid was a large relatively modern train, but to Carbajales de Alba was about two cars long and at least 10 years old. The conductor was slightly surprised that we were going there. When we came to the stop, the conductor let us know and opened the door. An abandoned train station greeted us.

I had seen on Google Maps that the town was a bit away from the train tracks. The sun was already going down, but it was daylight when we started walking. We passed cows grazing in stone pens with cowbells. It was dark by the time we made it to town.

We went to the bar to get some food. We stuck out because we were the youngest people there by about 30 to 40 years, and then, I’m Asian. The woman said they had some tapas. The food was amazing. I had the best food I’ve ever had in Spain and the best cafe con leche ever.

We walked back to the train station in the night guided by the flashing red and white lights of the wind turbines. It was a really long and cold night.

On the way back to Valladolid, we fell asleep on the train, much to the dismay of most of the elderly passengers, but I was too tired to process it.

English 202 MQ161 MW 1130-118
History 515.02 BE198 TR 930-1118
Art 300.02 HK 211 TR 1130-118 CM 200 R130-2218

April 8, 2009: My hands reek of butter, which smells good, but it’s kind of gross. There’s icing on the inside of my right sleeve.

April 12, 2009: I’ve fallen in love with Vienna Teng’s new album Inland Territory. My favorite song is “Kansas”…I think it’s simply a matter of time before he breaks my heart too.

April 22, 2009: I burned myself twice at work today taking brownies out of the oven and onto the speed rack.

May 6, 2009: My arm is covered in cupcake batter.

May 28, 2009: I had an interview today for a front of house position. She said I would have to take out my lip ring while I was working. I was super confused, and then I realized she was talking about my mole. Haha. Oh well.

June 20, 2009: I’m back in Columbus with my car and a dog.

July 15, 2009: I have been reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower. There is a quote that struck me when I read it. “We accept the love we think we deserve.” I had seen it before through PostSecret, but reading it in the book was different because of the context. I suppose it struck me because I realized why I tolerated the relationships I had. I thought it was what I deserved.

July 27, 2009: This past weekend we went to a party where I ate icing from a tube and danced. There was a kid there who salsa danced with me doing tons of dips.

I’ve been feeling weird lately. I told my friend that I saw on Facebook that he was married. Apparently, he’s actually married, but he’s only known her for two months. I just didn’t understand any of it.

August 7, 2009: My favorite part about flying is the ability to see the roads and buildings you know from a different perspective. I saw the construction for 95 at 695 from above. I know that road. I’m right above my mom’s office, and I can trace the road to the Ft. McHenry Tunnel. That’s the road that would take me home. I know the area so well. Will another place truly be home if I can’t trace the roads from above?

September 3, 2009: Almost a year has passed since I first got this notebook. So much has changed. Who would have thought that I would be here now sitting in my apartment alone with a dog. When I first bought this Moleskine, I was one day from twenty. In ten days, I’ll be 21. I wonder where I’ll be in a year. I wonder who I’ll be in a year. I wonder if I can find someone to love me. I wonder if I’ll be heart broken again.

February 2, 2006: I lost my old journal. I am 17.

February 16, 2006: On Valentine’s Day, I went to see the PostSecret exhibit at the American Visionary Museum with my friend.

April 9, 2006: I’ve spent the past few days visiting Ohio State. It was weird visiting the school with the knowledge that I’ll be spending the next four years of my life there.

April 27, 2006: I got my ears pierced on Saturday with my mom.

September 11, 2009: It’s two days from my 21st birthday and 3 years since I’ve written anything in this notebook. People change, but the words and memories written on these pages never will even though it’s faded in my mind. It seems the time around my birthday is the time to start again in a journal.

I thought about ripping out the pages before this one because I was appalled at my immaturity and my terrible and awkward handwriting, but that was the person I used to be. There’s no way to change that.

I might like butter way too much.

September 15, 2009: So my birthday has come and gone with little interest except for an awesome game and loss on Saturday to USC, my first trip to Out R Inn, and work all day.

September 23, 2009: In the back of the Moleskine, I have two senior portrait wallet cards or whatever. It’s sort of interesting or fitting I suppose for the start of my senior year of college.

Today I bought a $14.25 book for $4.54.

October 12, 2009: I am, as Hardy described Tess, happier than I have ever been in my life. I feel silly for being so happy because I’m generally quite level headed about these things, but I can’t help but be happy. I wonder where I’ll be in a year.

October 15, 2009: We went to Mac’s where I had an embarrassing episode shoveling onion rings into my mouth.

October 20, 2009: I was putting some bags in my car when I heard footsteps on the stairs. I looked up to see my neighbor and two women walking up the stairs. I paid little attention, but little did I know, I was most likely the last person to see them before they were shot. Luckily, I wasn’t home during the shooting. For some reason, my roommate didn’t hear the shooting, but apparently, my neighbor shot his mother and his sister. My roommate texted me saying there were paramedics at our apartment building.

November 23, 2009: This past week was Ohio Star Ball, which was a ton of fun. We were called back for Foxtrot, Jive, America Cha Cha, and Rumba.

He said that I had been rather distant as of late, but I guess I’ve been incredibly stressed lately.

November 28, 2009: This past week was Thanksgiving. It was nice except Maddy made a mess of herself. On Thursday, she ran through the mud puddles chasing the ducks. Later, she got herself tangled in a ton of burrs. She was a wonderful dog the entire time. After dinner on Thanksgiving, she fell asleep on my chest, and yesterday afternoon, she slept on his chest while he was reading.

December 27, 2009: I’m running out of days in December, this year, this decade.

December 29, 2009: I went home with him for Christmas, or, as I’ll call it from now on, Maddymas! It sounds a thousand times better–Merry Maddymas!

I’m impressed with my ability to love. I never knew I could love so much, but knowing that I can is a wonderful feeling.

February 22, 2010: He said he hoped that I didn’t write angry poems about him. I haven’t yet because I don’t think I’ve ever really been angry at him. He hasn’t left me.

February 25, 2010: It doesn’t feel like this is temporary. I’m running out of pages in this notebook.

March 10, 2010: This past weekend was the Arnold Classic. We had call backs in every dance except mambo and foxtrot. If I continue dancing, I want to work on Latin and Standard. This notebook is almost finished. I’m apathetic about life.

March 18, 2010: I feel as though I’ve been propelled into the past. I went to The Library to meet people for drinks. At some point, my friend and I went to the jukebox.

The past few months, I’ve buried the memories to the point that it seems as though it was another lifetime. I’m not sure I have come to terms with everything last year.

no date (December 2007): I bought this at a paper store in St. Helena, and this book is probably overpriced. I’m in seat 21D, window on an exit row. My Campers are nearly destroyed now since I wear them to work so they’re crusted in pizza sauce. The soles are so worn.

March 26, 2010: Last night it snowed. I’m on Spring Break. There is no break for me.

March 29, 2010: I feel like I’m limiting myself quite a bit. I’m not entirely sure I’m doing the right thing. I need to figure out my life.

April 2, 2010: The weather is beautiful, but it’s nearly too hot. I wish it were different.

April 12, 2010: I don’t think I’m ready to leave Columbus.

April 19, 2010: I thought the first time I saw him that he wouldn’t be interested in me. I’m not his type. What a disaster. I miss the way he holds me.

May 5, 2010: I haven’t written much lately. I have been avoiding it for better or for worse. I don’t know. I bought a bike yesterday.

May 13, 2010: I guess I’ve been avoiding everything. If I were to title the little I’ve written in this journal, it would be “My Life is a Disaster.”

It’s strange. Everyone said that I was very brave to confront him, but I don’t feel brave nor strong. I feel empty, very empty.

May 18, 2010: I strained my wrist. I shouldn’t be writing probably. On Sunday I could hardly lift a coffee mug.

June 4, 2010: I’ve been reading this poem a lot lately. I guess it is just too perfect for me right now.

June 9, 2010: I hope he isn’t just because I feel that he is a better person than that, but I don’t know.

June 22, 2010: It’s been two months now, which is a strange thought. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. I guess I’m realizing how much of a person I actually am. Maybe I’m starting to come to terms with it.

I got my haircut. My bangs are a little short.

July 7, 2010: This past week has been incredibly difficult. I’ve been intending to write about it, but I’m not really sure I can. I cut off my hair. I miss it, but my hair did nothing for me. It didn’t define me as a person. It’s strange how little consideration I really give my appearance. It’s strange how little opinion I have. I don’t care about my hair cut. It’s just my hair. It’s just hair.

The day before my hair cut, Friday [July 2], I felt my absolute lowest. All day until I cut my hair, I was a disaster, and I was working.

I need to be stronger, but being strong is difficult. Maybe when everything is different (my hair, my house, my future) I can be the person I want to be.

August 30, 2010: It’s strange that this month is almost over because I feel as though it has passed without notice. I suppose that’s fine, and I really don’t mind. I’m done with this month, with summer, with this, and I really feel that the changing month will help.

Things are better than they have been. I can’t make someone love me. I learned that long ago.

I’m excited to go to San Francisco. I think I really need this break. I think doing different things will be nice.

September 2, 2010: I’m flying with Maddy to San Francisco. It hasn’t been as bad as I imagined it would, but I always fear the absolute worst (ie. Maddy jumping out of my arms going through security). I’m lacking in leg room, which sucks, but that’s not awful.

September 17, 2010: I came to Chicago on a whim even though I’m broke. Since I wasn’t scheduled to work this week, I decided to go.

September 30, 2010: Reading over my previous entries has been so hard. I want to be better person. I hope I can be. I hope I am a better person now.

October 5, 2010: Yesterday, I was completely overwhelmed by how wonderful my life is, which is so strange. Everything was so awful and depressing for so long, and now I see how happy I am and how exciting each day is. I’m incredibly happy.

All of this came barreling out of nowhere with no warning.

October 20, 2010: I saw him running, but he didn’t see me on the street. It was like the scene from the falling episode of Radiolab, and I understand perfectly.

November 17, 2010: Since coming back from Chicago, I’ve pretty much been incredibly tired. After the Penn State game, I went to a dinner party gluten free style.

November 19, 2010: It’s a long list of guys to make a girl bitter. Look at you, Sara. All kinds of bitter. How embarrassing. 22 and bitter.

December 9, 2010: I’m tired, and I don’t know how I got through this past week. I don’t think I failed any of my finals. I’m definitely worn down after working 40 hours and super stressing over my classes. I’m glad I’m done. I hope my portfolio was acceptable.

December 14, 2010: I’m nearing the end of this journal, and I wonder what monstrous change awaits me.

I ran into him Christmas shopping, which was incredibly awkward and difficult seeing him and talking to him. It was so hard because there were so many things I wanted to say and ask, but I didn’t and couldn’t. I guess the memories are still heavy for me. I wonder if he thinks of me, but I guess it doesn’t matter if he does. It was strange and almost surreal. I felt rattled as I walked away.

December 24, 2010: I didn’t really finish the last entry in the last journal. I meant to but didn’t particularly care about it. I guess I’m still not comfortable dwelling on it. I’m not prepared to really think about it even though I should just get over my life.

I am without a doubt the happiest I have been in months.

There are a lot of things I want to tell him, but I’m not sure any of it matters.

December 25, 2010: Today is Maddymas. She’s sitting in my lap and awkwardly resting her head on the table. It’s rainy in San Francisco, but I’m okay with it. I’m determined to do as much reading as possible while I’m here.

March 8, 2011: I haven’t written in here in quite a bit, at least not a proper entry. I’m slightly concerned I’m thinking too far into the future.

June 13, 2011: Why am I writing in cursive? I really don’t know. In my mind, I want to be able to write in cursive. Really, I don’t see the point, but I do think about my words much more–the spelling, how to shape each letter. Right now, it’s an exercise in a lot of thinking because it’s not natural How much work for just a few lines of words.

Lately, I’ve been lost in my memories. In all honesty, it’s paralyzing.

July 11, 2011: One day, I’ll write about what really matters, but for now I’m avoiding it because I always run away. I always run. always run away. Why?

July 12, 2011: It seems that I haven’t even been entirely truthful even in my journal. I used to confess everything in these notebooks. Maybe I am hesitant knowing that they are a record of everything I have done. I guess it really doesn’t matter because no one is perfect, and I really don’t want to be perfect anyways. That would be boring. I do feel bad for anyone attempting to decipher my handwriting, especially now that I’m trying to write in cursive. By the time anyone is unfortunate to try and read this, I’m sure nearly no one will know how.

The rain started as a sigh, and I could see the rain falling in the light of the streetlights. Streetlights is a good word. Maybe I can’t write anything substantial in cursive.

July 13, 2011: I don’t want to write about it. I only write about things that aren’t relevant, and it’s frustrating. What am I so scared about? The truth? The lies? Maybe the silence–the words unsaid are still lies? A silent lie? Does the truth matter? Always back to the truth. Maybe that’s why I like writing poetry, but it’s not really like I know why.

What is the truth that I want to know?
What is the truth that matters to me?
Will I ever know?
What is the truth I want to share?
What truth is important?
Will I ever know?

July 16, 2011: I’m not sure how I feel about everything. I think all the thoughts for the past year are catching up to me, and honestly, I’m not sure what to do with them…about them…

What will make this go away? I’m not sure I can write through this. I like to deal with things, think about them, and then write. So what do I do now?

I wish my words were enough.

July 17, 2011: I miss the girl I was, but I don’t know who she is. There’s one photo where I think I look completely beautiful. I don’t think I’ll ever look like that ever again. Does it matter?

July 22, 2011: Lately, I’ve been feeling really good. I think the only way I could be feeling better is if I started dancing again. I want to dance again. I miss it so much.

July 31, 2011: It’s weird feeling sort of lonely. I guess I’m tired of connecting with people on the surface. I want to connect more.

August 10, 2011: I remember the horses snorting and startling me, walking through the sand, and laying on the bench looking up at the stars. Jupiter bright behind us. I dared to wade into the water holding my no longer new blue dress up to my hips and tilting my head up to see the stars. Stupid sentimental stars. I never want to forget it. Will I remember just because I wrote it down? I guess only time will tell because if I forget remembering it, then it won’t matter. Just another trivial thing that doesn’t really matter in life, that doesn’t really make a difference.

August 23, 2011: Screw being a modern woman. I want men to offer me cigarettes and light them for me.

I need to just figure things out. I should just do my own thing for a while. That made me happy last year.

August 26, 2011: I’m finishing the last pages of this notebook, which means that something will change, and I hope it’s for the better. I don’t think this year has been all that bad. 22 has been a good year, at least way better than 21, and it’s almost fall, which seems like the time for beginnings. I’m ready.

This notebook is filled with the new direction my life has taken this past year–poetry, independence, and so much hope. I can only hope this all gets better because I feel like I’m trying to begin a new journey or a new step. I’ll end this here…my heart is pounding. I’m so hopeful.