something new, something different

oooh! The beach as seen from the Scripps Aquarium.

ditto!

Beautiful flowers from my fiance, the most wonderful man in the world.

Le Woof! My doggy.

My arm, three days after a laser treatment.

Okay people. I'm trying something new with these pictures, which means it probably won't work.

**crosses fingers** besitos, your tragedy

Scarred For Life

Tomorrow, well, technically later today, I have another laser treatment. Laser treatment, you ask, for what? I’m getting my sleeves removed. By sleeves I mean tattoos from shoulder to wrist on each arm. Yes, it did hurt to getting that extensively tattooed to begin with. I’m just beating some of you to the punch. You wouldn’t believe how often I get asked that. And, yes, it does hurt getting them removed, because everyone always asks me that too. Anyway, I have had about five treatments so far, in approximately one year. Because, in addition to being quite painful, they are also quite expensive.

The first four treatments were with the "little laser." It sounds sort of like a electric razor. Magazine articles and pamphlets like to claim that the patient (me) will only experience discomfort as a laser treatment feels very similar to being snapped by a rubber band. In my experience, the laser treatment feels like someone slowly dragging a hot razor across my skin.

My usual treatment lasts an hour. We break them up into: either lower arm, or half an upper arm. An hour before hand, I apply this topical cream with lidocain in it to numb the skin. When I first started getting these treatments, the laser specialist told me that because of my size, she wasn’t comfortable injecting me with lidocain.. So we decided that for the first treatment, we’d just see how I did. That was the first Friday of my Spring Break, and I spent it at a cosmetic surgery clinic, laying on an uncomfortable table, wearing ill fitting goggles. I don’t remember what we talked about that day, the nurse and I. I just remember thinking, ‘what the hell have I gotten myself into.’ After Alice finished putting ointment on my arm and bandaging me up, I was on my way out the door. Earlier in the week I’d *promised* my mom I’d drive down to Hollister to see her. You know how moms are. A drive that normally would have taken maybe 60 minutes, from Mountain View to Hollister, took much longer. As my right arm throbbed, I drove in mostly bumper to bumper traffic. My mom made me a really delicious dinner, and then had to cut it up for me because my arm was too swollen. On the treatments on my lower arm, I can expect to be swollen from two inches above my elbow all the way down to my fingers. That night, that first night of pain, I remembered laying on my bed with my arm elevated on two couch cushions trying not to cry.

My second treatment was in December on my lower left arm. Being somewhat more prepared for the whole ordeal, and the fact that I’m right handed, made this treatment a little more bearable. But during the healing process that time, after the swelling went down a little, it became intensely itchy. Iin the shower, I’d wash my injured arm. The texture of my arm, once familiar, was no alien, hard to the touch, and hot. For two weeks, the itching kept me awake at night. Despite my best efforts, I’d wake up scratching through my pajamas, raising welts on the still sensitive skin. Almost two weeks later, with a left arm that was still peeling, I had another treatment on my right lower arm. The same things happened. Lots of swelling, and lots and lots of itching. By the time I met my then boyfriend and now fiancé in San Diego Christmas night, the peeling had begun. Sean was such a sweetie, putting benedryl cream on my arm to keep me from tearing it open at night.

On February 21st I was scheduled to have a treatment on my left upper arm. Since it was a holiday, my dad was convinced that I’d made a mistake. That morning I called the clinic to make sure my appointment was still on, but I got some woman at an answering service telling me that my appointment was cancelled. I shrugged and climbed back into bed. So you can imagine my surprise when Alice called me up, fifteen minutes before my appointment to make sure I was still coming. It takes me twenty minutes to get there. I jumped out of bed, applied the numbing cream, pulled on some clothes, and scrambled into the car. Remarkably, I was only 5 minutes late. The only problem, as you can guess, was that the numbing cream had only been on a quarter of the time it’s supposed to be on. Washing my arm off in the sink, I knew I was really in for it. While all of Alice’s other patients use the cream and get a shot, I was going into this treatment hardly numbed at all. This was the first treatment on my upper arm, and about half way into it, Alice decided it might be best to break this session in half. In other words, half a treatment on my left upper arm, and half on my right. The main reason for doing this, she explained, was that she was nervous about how much I might swell. Plus, she’d gotten a new idea.

The laser she’d been using me is called the q-switched ruby laser. It works excellently on lots of colours, except for the blues and greens. The main colours on my upper arm are turquoise and purple. Her new idea was to use the older laser because it could chew through those shades much faster than the smaller ruby laser. The only thing was that she’d have to give me a shot because the bigger laser hurts more.

For the entire four days between appointments, I am completely worked up about having to get a shot. Just ask my fiancé. Did I forget to mention the part where I’m completely scared of needles? My needle fear does not apply to getting tattooed or pierced, only to getting blood drawn and getting injections. I don’t care if it’s ironic, I don’t care what you say. Those things are completely different.

Anyway, when February 26th rolled around, I found myself more nervous then ever before. Mostly thinking ‘holy shit, I have to get a shot’
Alice called my name and back I trudged to the bathroom, where I washed off my arm. As I sat on the table, we made chit chat, wherein I mentioned my needle phobia at least two, possible three times. She decided we could "take it as we go", she could always give me the shot later. She handed me my goggles, a different colour than before. She sat on my right side, and I closed my eyes. The big laser had to warm up before we could start.

**thud**

**thud**

It made a sound like a big shoe in a clothes dryer. I found myself thinking ‘well, that can’t be good.’

**thud**

**thud**

"Are you ready to get started?" I nodded my head ‘yes’ without opening my eyes. While the other laser hits the skin continuously, this one hits much slower. And deeper. Each impact, that’s what it felt like, seemed as though it went from the outside of my skin all the way down to the bone.

**thud**

**thud**

**thud**

When she asked "How ya’ doing?", I told her that I was fine. This time around, none of my tricks seem to be working. In the past during these treatments, I could distract myself by trying to remember song lyrics, passages from my favourite books, dialogue from my favourite movies. One of the songs that I often remember is from Blink 182, "Easy Target."

"All her signals are getting lost in the ether
She's a landslide with a city beneath her
So take a good look
So you'll never forget it
Take a deep breath
I know I'm gonna regret it

Holly's looking dry
Looking for an easy target
Let her slit my throat
Give her ammo if she'll use it
Caution on the road lies lies and hidden danger
Southern California's breeding mommy's little monster

She's got a mission
And I'm collateral damage
She's the flower that you place on my casket
Savour the moment cause the memory's fleeting
Take a photograph as the last train is leaving

Holly's looking dry
Looking for an easy target
Let her slit my throat
Give her ammo if she'll use it
Caution on the road lies lies and hidden danger
Southern California's breeding mommy's little monster

Run, Run, Run, Run, Run
(Hurry Let Me Out)
Run, Run, Run, Run, Run
(Hurry Let Me Out)
Run, Run, Run, Run , Run
(Hurry Let Me Out)"

But that song is sort of short for that kind of situation. Besides, this last time I couldn’t rally concentrate on any lyrics, not even No Doubt songs. I just couldn’t think of them. Not a one. All I could do was make a half hearted attempt at conversation. But I made it. Barely, but I made it. She told me some important things, she told me about the rule of nines, and something called compartmenting, (or something like that) but I wasn’t really paying attention because my arm was hurting. When I sat up, climbed off of the table, she bandaged me up.

That night was really tough. While the little laser left my arm feeling like it had been sunburned, and rubbed raw with gravel, the treatment with the big laser left me feeling like my upper arm had been attacked my a blow torch, and an angry one at that. Even though we only did the outside part of my upper arm, the swelling was awful. It went below my elbow, and also extended up passed my shoulder and to my collar bone. I was so swollen my collar bone wasn’t even visible. My neck was sore too, every time I’d try to turn my head to the right, I’d remember I couldn’t turn my head all the way. Everything felt so tight. Sometimes when my dad makes hot dogs for dinner, he leaves them in the boiling water too long. The hot dogs get really swollen and actually spilt open because the casings are too tight.

This is how I felt.

February 27th was the Oscars, and I barely saw an hour of it. I’d woken up with a terrible migraine (which I get sometimes). That coupled with my swollen, monstrosity of an arm meant that I only left bed to pee. I only slept for maybe twenty minutes, maybe a half hour at a time. The swelling lasted for five days, and I was able to resume my push ups after about two weeks. The headache only lasted for one day, thankfully.

Although I always get a little down after these treatments, after this last one I was depressed. The only ray of sunshine I could think of was Sean. Even though I knew my pain would end sooner or later, I was afraid it wouldn’t. I became afraid that my arm would be swollen, blistered, and bloody for eternity. (I don’t get blisters from the little laser.) I could not see the light at the end of the tunnel. (I know, I know, sorry for the cliche.) I had several dreams that I catch on fire and no amount of water will put it out.

Right now, my upper right arm is still peeling and itchy. One can clearly see where the laser tagged me; I have a bunch of circles about the size of a pencil eraser on the outside part of my upper arm. Each one of these represents a former blister. Before they popped, when I would get cold, I would get goose bumps, these painful goose bumps on my arm. I would get weird shooting sensations in my arm when it would happen, and would feel hot and cold at the same time. It would make me shiver.
Tomorrow shouldn’t be that bed though, we are using the little laser. Here is the song I will try to remember. It’s one of my favourites, I give you, "Crash Into Me" by the Dave Matthews Band.

"You’ve got your ball
You’ve got your chain
Tied to me tight tie me up again
Who’s got their claws
In you my friend
Into your heart I’ll beat again
Sweet like candy too my soul
Sweet you rockAnd sweet you roll
Lost for you I’m so lost for you
You come crash into me
And I come into youI come into you
In a boys dream
In a boys dream

Touch your lips just so I know
In your eyes, love, it glows so
I’m bare boned and crazy for you
When you come crash
Into me, baby
And I come into you
In a boys dream
In a boys dream

If I’ve gone overboard
Then I’m begging you
To forgive me, oh
In my haste
When I’’m holding you so girl
Close to me
Oh and you come crash
Into me, baby
And I come into you

Hike up your skirt a little more
And show the world to me
Hike up your skirt a little more
And show your world to me
In a boys dream.. in a boys dream
Oh I watch you there
Through the window
And I stare at you
You wear nothing but you
Wear it so well
Tied up and twisted
The way I’’d like to be
For you, for me, come crash
Into me"

Sal Si Puedes

Here is a story for you all. It’s about how, even though I have been a student for so long, I still mix up really important dates. I am afraid this is going to be the case with my graduation application too.

Last May, in my Chinese History class, we students were supposed to pick a book to review, and then find a corresponding article from an academic journal which reviewed aforementioned book. Now, the last time I wrote a paper for this class. I picked a book that wasn’t on the approved reading list and didn’t realise it until 5 minutes before it was due. I didn’t even bother turning it in because I knew Dr. Reynolds would not accept it. I just turned in the proper paper one day late and took a point deduction.

So this time I was going to do it right. I was going to read the directions. I was going to be careful. I spent hours on this paper and was very proud of it. I even printed it on paper with a pastel sunset like this. So, I think you can imagine my absolute HORROR when I realised I had screwed up again. In the exact same way.

My plan was to talk to Dr. Reynolds after class– confess my stupidity. But I couldn’t quite muster up the courage. After my second class I meet up with Phuong and we chit chat about our day so far. Dr. Pickering passed by and Phuong asked her a question, so before she left I decided I’d ask her about my dilemma. Dr. Pickering said I should definitely talk to Dr. Reynolds sooner rather than later– she even let me used her office phone to do so. I left a message with Dr. Reynolds and said I would stop by during office hours.

So at 3pm, I knocked on his door. My hands were sweaty and I was scared of getting called an idiot. I imagined that the best case scenario was that he would let me rewrite my paper- but since it would be two days late he would deduct 2 grades.

But when I told him my error, he asked me what book I reviewed. And when I told him, he said– "Oh, that’s fine." What? Fine? Oh thank god!! I thanked him and practically skipped back to my car. (Sigh.) Sometimes people surprise you!

Wish me luck! Dammit I've got to graduate!

For my wonderful fiance, the giver of flowers, I hope you are safe and sound. We're really getting close now. I just crossed another day off my calendar.

besitos, Tragic

Yummies From Tibet

Tibetan Tara (Sweet Yogurt Shake)

4 cups plain yogurt
10 ice cubes
1/2 cup brown sugar
Preparation:
Blend the ingredients together in a blender until smooth.

I've been looking over my old recipes lately and I happened upon this one. If memory serves, I found it in a beat up book at the library. Anyway, I know it doesn't seem like it would be, but it's actually quite yummy. (Probably not health food either, but that's why it tastes so yummy.) The only change I made is less ice cubes, and that's because my da's old blender (it was a bridal gift before my parents wedding) is quite old and doesn't really like the hard things to grind up.

Take A Chance!! Give it a whirl!

Besitos, Tragic Tuyen

PS. HMS= SMH
We're getting married, amor! J'taime!

Why???

Why...... is the room........


***spinning***???

~Tragic Tuyen

Frontline

On Tuesday night, Frontline (PBS) aired a program called "A Soldier's Heart," which dealt primarily with PTSD. Check out the website at:

http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/heart/

Several different soldiers were interviewed for this program, including friends, families, and mental health professionals. The main point of the program seemed to be that while there is more discussion about PTSD, there is still a stigma attached to "asking for help", etc. In other words, is the military handling the problem (PTSD, battle fatigue, etc.) differently or better than in the past, or not?

~Tragic

Deep Water

Last night I had another nightmare. It was very short, but this is what I remember.

I'd been invited to a party and was meeting my friends there. No one told me it was a pool party, I was dressed for clubbing. I was wearing my big black goth boots, a tank top, and my black pinstriped pants, the ones with the zippers. After I parked my car, I went in the house and asked some girl I'd never seen before where Phuong and Lisa were.

"Oh," she said "There right through there," indicating a doorway. So I opened the door, took a step, and fell. I fell for what seemed a really long time beofre I fell into the deep end of a pool.

A really, really deep pool. It seemed like I was twenty feet below the water's surface. I was close to the edge, and I was trying to grab ahold of the ladder to make my way up. Only, instead of being a metal ladder, it was made of rope. I had to climb the rope to make my way up.

In my dream, I remember cursing my big heavy boots and thinking that my taste in shoes would kill me. I was running out of air.....

And then I woke up. Ouch, with a bloody nose.

Muchos besitos por mi amor, Tragic

Say Anything

In Your Eyes
-Peter Gabriel
So

love I get so lost, sometimes
days pass and this emptiness fills my heart
when I want to run away
I drive off in my car
I come back to the place you are

all my instincts, they return
and the grand facade, so soon will burn
without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside

in your eyes
the light the heat
in your eyes
I am complete
in your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
in your eyes
the resolution of all the fruitless searches
in your eyes
I see the light and the heat
in your eyes
ohhh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
the heat I see in your eyes

love, I don’t like to see so much pain
so much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away
I get so tired of working so hard for our survival
I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive

and all my instincts, they return
and the grand facade, so soon will burn
without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside

in your eyes
the light the heat
in your eyes
I am complete
in your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
in your eyes
the resolution of all the fruitless searches
in your eyes
I see the light and the heat
in your eyes
ohhh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
the heat
in your eyes, in your eyes
in your eyes, in your eyes
in your eyes, in your eyes

Do you know the movie I’m talking about? I saw the movie "Say Anything" last summer. As a single girl, I yearned to have a boyfriend like Lloyd. A guy who would stand outside my bedroom window and play "In Your Eyes" on a boom box just to win me back, rather than bang on my window late at night and curse at me. The night I watched that movie, I climbed into bed and cried, because I knew that I would never find an awesome guy like that for myself. I even recall planning on doing a post for my blog about it, but for some reason, never did.

But then something miraculous happened. I did find my Lloyd Dobbler. We found one another!! I wasn’t even looking for him because I’d given up. I’d even made a deal with my friend Phuong that if we never got married to anyone, we’d buy a house together, fill it with dogs and cats, and grow old as spinsters.

How did I get so lucky? How did I go from the unluckiest girl, a girl born to lose, to the luckiest girl in the world?

I miss him so much, and hope that he is safe. But soon we will be together forever. We’re getting married!!

Besos, Tragic

Here is an article about us Bloggers!

Posted on Tue, Feb. 22, 2005 from the San Jose Mercury News

R E L A T E D L I N K S
• Finding novelty, sharing it online
• Political blog becomes paying job
• An Internet gallery of city images

Bloggers' Internet obsession

By K. Oanh HaMercury News

Amy Sherman recently woke up at 4 a.m. in a panic. Why wasn't her food blog getting as much traffic as others?
``I daydream about the blog throughout the day. . . . I worry about it at night. I sometimes put as much energy into it as my job,'' said Sherman, 40, a self-employed marketing consultant in San Francisco who makes no money from her blog, Cooking With Amy (www.cookingwithamy.com).

Sherman and many others who publish the online journals known as Weblogs, or ``blogs'' for short, have discovered the addictive nature of blogging. What starts out as a hobby for some can end up permeating their lives and minds. Some of the diarists post repeatedly throughout the day, juggle several blogs and feel anxious if they don't write. Most dedicated bloggers say the endeavor has enriched their lives, but some worry about finding balance and keeping their obsession in check.
``There is a narcotic quality to it,'' said Anil Dash, a prominent 29-year-old San Francisco technology blogger (www.anildash.com). ``The more you post, the more readers you get. It's easy for people to get sucked into it.''

Mental notes

San Jose blogger Rachel Pottol, who writes about life with toddlers, constantly composes blog posts in her head for her site (www.livejournal.com/users/cerulean_me). As she goes through her day, the 26-year-old makes mental notes of good fodder: her daughter being entranced by the ``Happy Birthday'' song, her arguments with her husband, her work as a mother's helper. She set up Internet access on her cell phone just so she can check e-mail hourly for reader comments. ``It's a way for me to connect with other moms,'' she said. ``I feel like it's my job to keep these people entertained.''

Blogs have become a fixture on the Internet landscape, with 14 new ones created every minute, according to Technorati, which tracks nearly 7 million blogs. ``Blog'' was the most looked-up word at Merriam-Webster's dictionary Web site last year.
Many blogs are a chronicle of experiences and feelings. Others focus on a topic -- sports, food, hobbies, politics, pets.

For most people, blogs are a healthy means of self-expression and validation, said Boston psychologist John Grohol, who studies online behavior. Most digital diarists find gratification in connecting with readers. Some feel the need to apologize to readers if they have not updated enough.

But blogging can become so all-consuming that it overshadows reality. ``They spend enormous amounts of time blogging rather than living,'' Grohol said.
The blogosphere was abuzz in January after Justin Hall, a Los Angeles Internet junkie, posted a video of himself having a self-described ``breakdown.'' In a wrenching 10-minute video, Hall, who has kept an online journal for 11 years, cries and agonizes whether he has lived too much of his life virtually.

The episode arose because the woman he loves didn't want him to blog about their relationship -- and he believed he had to choose between her and his ``art.''
``I think the Web makes me not alone,'' said Hall, 30, in his video entry (www.links.net). ``I feed it my intimacies, and the Web is my constant connection to something larger than myself.''
He's now reassessing the balance in his life and has stopped blogging for the moment. ``I was living too much in the electronic world,'' he said in an interview. ``I could sit on the computer all day, but it's not the same as being with a girl and smelling her hair.''

Addicted to blogging?

Among bloggers, addiction is a running joke. One even offered a checklist: ``You are addicted to blogging if you answer `yes' to at least 3 of the following questions,'' Joi Ito, a Japanese venture capitalist with Silicon Valley ties, wrote on his blog (joi.ito.com). ``Do you think about everything in terms of whether it will make a good blog entry? Do you keep your computer in standby mode beside your bed and wake up at 2 a.m. to blog? Do you skip lunch and blog instead?''

Dave Pell, a San Francisco angel investor, fits the bill. He juggles three blogs -- one about technology (www.davenetics.com), another about politics (www.electablog.com) and a third about, well, blogs (www.theblogblog.com).
Addiction, he said, is the only explanation for why he started the latest, the Blog Blog, and posts more than a dozen times a day. ``It's involuntary for me at this point. It's a part of who I am.''
Pell, 38, said he attends events he might otherwise pass up -- so he can blog about them.

``It's about ego, in a way,'' said Pell, whose blogs draw 250,000 page views a month. ``A few thousand people might read your take on something. It's pretty empowering.''

For some, keeping a blog subtly colors every aspect of life. Renee Blodgett carries a digital camera wherever she goes to capture images for Down the Avenue (www.downtheavenue.com), which mixes notes on San Francisco, technology and poetry. She walked into a cafe recently and caught herself paying attention to the colors, sounds and people. ``I was thinking how I could turn it into a post,'' said Blodgett, who is in her mid-30s. ``Before, I'd just sit down, have my bowl of soup and zone out.''
Yet Blodgett worries whether the blog will make her less social. ``Will I become more engaged with my laptop, more engaged with my blog than I am with people?'' she said.

For Sherman, her blogging obsession is tied into sharing her food passion with others. When she went on a three-week Mexican vacation in December, she planned her family's itinerary around getting to an Internet cafe.
``When I'm on vacation, I fear I'll lose visitors or people will forget about me,'' Sherman said. ``I feel a sense of responsibility. I have a readership, a public, people who care if I stop writing. That drives me.''

Contact K. Oanh Ha at kha@ mercurynews.com or (408) 278-3457.

What do you all think of that?? I don't really have a "readership" and therefore no real sense of responsibility towards a public.

~besos, Tragic

Blink- 182... Bad News

Here it is, from the band themselves (http://www.blink182.com):

"For over a decade, Blink-182 has toured, recorded and done non-stop promotion all while trying to balance relationships with family and friends.To that end, the band has decided to go on an indefinite hiatus to spend some time enjoying the fruits of their labors with their loved ones. While there is no set plan for the band to begin working together again, no one knows what tomorrow may bring."

Also, from E! Online:



Blink-182 Goes on "Hiatus"by Joal Ryan Feb 22, 2005, 2:35 PM PT

"Blink-182 is going on the blink.

In an announcement from its record label that stopped short of saying the punk-pop trio had disbanded, the group was described as being "on indefinite hiatus." Television viewers may recognize "hiatus" as an old network term meaning "when your favorite show gets canceled, but nobody has the heart to tell you to your face."

Befitting Blink-182's newly murky status, Geffen Records said there was no timetable for the band to start being a band again. "No one knows what tomorrow may bring," the label said in a statement. Rumors of Blink-182's demise were sparked when the group was a last-minute scratch, along with Ozzy Osbourne, at a tsunami-relief benefit concert Friday in Anaheim, California. Osbourne's absence was explained as being prompted by a "family emergency"; Blink-182's was chalked up to "unforeseen circumstances."

A rep for Geffen confirmed that the "unforeseen circumstances" was the band's unraveling. There weren't details as to what went down, only that after rehearsals the word hiatus began being bandied about. The official story is that guitarist/singer Tom DeLonge, 29, bassist Mark Hoppus, 32, and drummer Travis Barker, 29, want to spend time "enjoying the fruits of their labors with loved ones." "For over a decade, Blink-182 has toured, recorded and promoted non-stop all while trying to balance relationships with family and friends," Geffen Records said.

Founded in San Diego in the early 1990s as Blink with original drummer Scott Raynor, the retitled band made its major label debut in 1999 with Enema of the State. The album was the unofficial soundtrack of skate parks everywhere, spawning the sometimes-jokey, always-catchy hit singles "All the Small Things," "Adam's Song" and "What's My Age Again."

Two more studio albums have followed for the tattooed trio: 2001's Take Off Your Pants and Jacket, and 2003's self-titled release. Last summer, the band headlined a tour with fellow Southern California rockers No Doubt. Barker, who joined the band in 1998, already has a side project set. He'll debut in April in the new MTV reality series Meet the Barkers, about him, his beauty queen wife and their children.

If the show does well, don't expect the word hiatus to come up anytime soon."

~Tragic

oh man........

It's been raining so much lately that I feel like I should start gathering up two of every animal. Does anyone have any sandbagging tips?

*looks out window nervously*

I haven't sandbagged in a few years now, and my dad can't really help me. See, this is when it would be handy to have an older brother. Oh well.

Hope you are all well! SMH= HMS!!!!! Sean, I love you so much! You are my own private sunshine and we both know you chase the clouds away.

~Tragic

A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall

"A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall"
Bob Dylan

Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?
I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains,
I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways,
I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests,
I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans,
I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,

And it's a hard,
and it's a hard,
it's a hard, and it's a hard,
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it,I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin',
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin',
I saw a white ladder all covered with water,
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken,
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children,

And it's a hard,
and it's a hard,
it's a hard,
it's a hard,
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin',
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world,
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin',
Heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin',
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin',
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter,
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley,

And it's a hard,
and it's a hard,
it's a hard,
it's a hard,
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony,
I met a white man who walked a black dog,
I met a young woman whose body was burning,
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow,
I met one man who was wounded in love,
I met another man who was wounded with hatred,

And it's a hard,
it's a hard,
it's a hard,
it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Oh, what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what'll you do now, my darling young one?
I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin',
I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest,
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty,
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters,
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison,
Where the executioner's face is always well hidden,
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten,
Where black is the color, where none is the number,
And I'll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it,
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it,
Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin',
But I'll know my song well before I start singin',

And it's a hard,
it's a hard,
it's a hard,
it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

(Copyright © 1963; renewed 1991 Special Rider Music)

When ever it rains like this, I always think of this song. It is the perfect rainy-day music. Bob Dylan was the first singer I ever saw in concert. It was at Concord Pavillion, and even though it was the beginning of September, it was still bloody cold.

Brr! Hope you are all keeping warm. besos, Tragic

What I Did Last Summer.

Tonight, in Anaheim, No Doubt played a Tsunami Relief Benefit with a bunch of bands, including but not limited too Linkin Park, Jay Z, and Incubus. Dammit, I couldn’t go. I cried into my box of See’s candy a little bit, but I’m trying to convince myself that I didn’t totally miss out. So tonight I’ve decided to reminisce about what I did LAST summer. Ahh... the memories.

I saw Dashboard Confessional at San Jose State. It was the beginning of my concert- going summer. Preyma (my best friend since I was 12) and I went to see No Doubt and Blink -182 at Shoreline on June 19th. Blink 182 played first and they were loud. Not in a ear- splitting kind of way, more of a "whoa I can feel the bass through my feet kind if way." When they played "Miss You", I was a bit disappointed, though, because it was like they were trying to speed through it to get to the next song. Which peeved me a bit because sometimes I’m a sappy girly girl and want to hear the ballads. And I want to hear them done right, dammit!

Our seats weren’t too great– basically the last row before lawn. Right before No Doubt came on, a banner was unfurled to reveal the ND logo along with a crown and "We Will Rock You" started to play. The crowd went fuckin’ nuts. It was great. Then Gwen appeared on the right side of the stage and walked up through part of the audience and made her speech:

"A long time ago, in a land not so far away, in a town called Anaheim, a band was delivered from the womb of musical creation. After a dark period, a victory was won against the radio waves. Tragic Kingdom, Return of Saturn, Rock Steady... but their ultimate weapon was their FANS! We have been summoned here tonight, to San Francisco, to ROCK YOU!!!!"

While she makes this speech, Tony, Tom, and Adrian start playing "Just A Girl." They played all of the songs on the Singles Album, except for "Trapped in a Box." This means they played: (I might have them slightly out of order.)

Just A Girl
Excuse Me Mister
Ex- Girlfriend
Bathwater
Hella Good
New
Underneath It All
Hey Baby
Running
Simple Kind Of Life
It’s My Life
Don’t Speak
Sunday Morning
Spiderwebs

During "Simple Kind Of Life" Gwen was so overcome with emotion that she actually started to cry and didn’t sing the middle portion of the song. SKOL was part of the acoustic set, so Tom just played on until Gwen collected herself. In retrospect, some fans have come to the conclusion that she cried because of the stress caused by learning that Gavin had a love child way back in the day. Who knows, really? It was such a great night. Preyma and I listened to Rock Steady twice on our way out the parking lot.

Two days later (June 21st) I drove to Marysville to see No Doubt yet again. I had two tickets for this show and was going to sell one ticket. I got to the venue at 1:30 pm. Stadium management wasn’t allowing people to park, so I thought I’d go into town and look around. But there was no town, no real one, anyway. So I parked in a dirt lot near a farm where I spotted a bunch of other No Doubters. And waited. And waited.
I waited for two hours in my hot car with the windows open– just in case a breeze decided to show up. No such luck. It was so hot my fingers were sticking to the pages of Vogue magazine, which I’d brought along to keep me busy. Around 4, cars started taking off towards the venue– so I followed. We were all turned away again at the gate. But then the dumbass security dude decides to tell me then, that the "general parking lot" is still open. Wait, what? Panic began to brew inside me. Sure enough, when I got to the other parking lot I was disgusted to see about 150 people already in line. My mood darkened even more. Instead of using my pit ticket, I decided there was no point because I wouldn’t be able to see anyway. Instead, I sat used my other ticket. At one point, these sixteen year olds walked by (they were trying to sell a spare ticket) and I noticed that one of them had pink hair too. Different from mine, though. Hers was more of a cotton candy pink, whereas mine is flamingo pink. On their second trip by the line, with a slightly less expensive ticket for sale, the pink haired chick asked, all excited– "Can I have my picture taken with you?" I was sure I was being punked. Somewhere in the shadows, surely Ashton Kutcher was waiting, trying to contain himself at my potential humiliation. I even looked around to see who they were really talking too. But they were talking to me. So somewhere in California is a picture of me and some other pink haired chick– insanely happy because we were about to see No Doubt. The best live band EVER!
My seat was actually great. It was on the right side of Sleeptrain Amphitheatre, so I was in the shade. I was in the third row, and every one else in my area was there to see Blink 182. No Doubt opened the show and (sigh) I fell in love all over again. Gwen was so funny talking to the audience. At one point, she said, "I’m having a real bad case of PMS tonight– do you better make it worth my time..." which made the audience go bonkers– screaming and jumping. During "Simple Kind of Life," Gwen came over to my side of the stage, and I swear, looked right at me. I was the only person standing up and singing in my section, so I’m sure she saw me. They dedicated "It’s My Life" to all the fans– one of my new live faves. The set list was the same as for Shoreline, but in a different order.

My next concert was on the 24th of June in Chula Vista. On the 23rd I drove from San Jose to Whittier. Since my grandma lives in So. California, I decided to use that as my rest stop for a few days. I woke up at 9am and left Whittier for Chula Vista at 9:30. I arrived at 11am, but I would have been earlier except for an incredible traffic snarl in San Diego. Although there were 25 or so people in front of me, I was pretty happy. The two girls behind me, Liz and Cathy, were totally cool. We played Go Fish, Hearts, and Gin Rummy for hours while we sat in the heat. We even pooled our snack and drink resources. It was the hottest day of the year (I’d find this out later) and we all were in outside in it from 11am until the concert ended. I felt like quite the smartie- pants ‘cuz I had almost everything I needed. I even had sun screen. Which I applied. But I must have missed a spot or two. I’ll get back to that later. Everyone was sweating buckets, except for me. Even though it was baking hot, at least I didn’t have the misery of being all sweaty.

Around 4pm, what little water we had left was practically boiling so Cathy decided to pack it back to her car. It was around this time that stadium security decided to close the gates, effectively locking us patiently waiting fans away from our cars, the bathrooms, drinking fountains and SHADE. This caused many of the people to panic, run to the gates, and NOT got back to their place in the back of the line. Not only that but people started scaling this gothic looking iron gate, complete with points, to ditch their stuff in their cars, and then climb back. It’s a miracle no one got impaled!

It was madness when security finally let people back in. There were three separate lines: Lawn, Pit, and Seats. The first two groups are more antsy because everyone is trying to get as close as they can. Security at the Chula Vista show was insane. I felt like I was going to into Tel Aviv. At this show, there were way more chicks than guys. So what happened at the metal detectors and pat down area was that guys from the back on the line got in front of certain people, such as myself, who’d been there since 11am!! (Hmm, Im trying not to get pissed about that all over again.) Some people almost got knocked down when there was a mad dash to get into the pit first. Even though the show was supposed to start at 6pm, it actually started at 6:45.

The opening act was a band from Australia called The Living End. They were pretty cool but during their set, I started to feel kind of weird. I got the chills and my legs started to feel like jello with electricity running through them. After some consideration, I decided to go to the concession area and get a snack and a soda. But with each step, as I got closer and closer to snack heaven, I felt weaker and weaker. There were only two people in front of me, but I swear, it felt like an eternity before it was my turn. When I got to the front, I told the teenaged employee that I wanted a Sprite and a plain pretzel. The kid must have been stoned though, because he asked me two more times for my order. With each passing second, it felt like someone was turning the volume down in my head. My sight began to dim and I could barely hold my self up. That’s when I started to panic. And not for the reason you might think. I was thinking "Damn... I’m gonna pass out and miss No Doubt." After I paid my $9.75 I slouched over to a tiny piece of shade and drank my soda and ate half of my pretzel. I was still shivering. I’d brought along a metallic looking bright green scarf I’d knitted for Gwen (hey, don’t laugh, lot’s of Gwen-abee’s make presents for her.) But I ended up wearing it because I felt so chilled. I was actually shivering for most of the night.

With ticket and wristband, I made it back into the pit. I didn’t go back to the front with Liz and Cathy, though. (Just in case I did spaz out and faint) I stood on the right side of the stage. The crowd was thinner. Also, at the other two concerts, Gwen entered on the right to do her speech. So I was a bit disappointed when she entered on the left. But is was sooooooo worth it. Since San Diego is Blink 182's hometown, they closed the show and No Doubt opened it. At this show, ND dedicated "Sunday Morning" to "all the old schoolers who have supported us for the past 17 years." Unfortunately, there was no encore ‘cuz the show was running behind.
On my drive back from Whittier to San Jose, I started to feel like I was losing my voice, and coming down with a cold. Plus, I had a sunburned nose, forehead, and lower back. Every time I hit a bump I felt the pain.
My last No Doubt concert was on July 2nd at the Santa Barbara Bowl. Phantom Planet opened. There was no Blink 182 at this show. Just ND, which suited me just fine ‘cuz they got to play longer.

The set list was:

Just A Girl
Excuse Me Mister
Ex- Girlfriend
Bathwater
Hella Good
New
Underneath It All
Hey Baby
Running
Simple Kind Of Life
All I Wanna Do/ Racist Friend
It’s My Life
Don’t Speak
Sunday Morning
Spiderwebs
Rock Steady

So— I couldn’t resist!!

Number of sunburns: 3
Number of new tires bought: 1
Money spent on concert tickets: $306
Number of miles driven: 1,300

Seeing No Doubt four times in 21 days: PRICELESS

See, I’m a real fan! (Desperately clings to eight month old memories.)

**Your favourite Tragedy**

All I really want to do

UB40
Title: All I Want To Do
Album: Rat in the Kitchen

I don`t like the work but true i need the money
My life is like a joke but to me is isn`t funny
People all around, telling me what to do
And all I want to do is stay at home with you

Time after time I say to myself
Working all my life isn`t good for my health
Get old, get tired, get put on the shelf
I do all the work, someone else gets all the wealth
Wish I was on an island in the sun
Where I wouldn`t have to worry how to get things done

I don`t like the work but true i need the money
My life is like a joke but to me is isn`t funny
People all around, telling me what to do
And all I want to do is stay at home with

Day after day becomes more of a grind
Bills pile up, moneys harder to find
Trying to get ahead money`s harder to find
If I don`t give it up I`m gonna lose my mind
Wish I was on an Island in the sun
Where I wouldn`t have to worry how to get things done

I don`t like the work but true i need the money
My life is like a joke but to me is isn`t funny
People all around, telling me what to do
And all I want to do is stay at home with you.

(All I really wanna do, is be at home with you, amor.)

Dad and the Sling

I feel as though I spent my entire day in the car. It was bad enough that when we first got into the parking structure, some chick drove the wrong way in her BMW, cut me off, and stole a prime parking space. I ended up going all the way to the top floor, and even then I got the last spot. Then we rode the world’s *slowest* elevator all the way down. First stop was the medical secretary office, where he turned in papers to register for state disability, then I dropped off my prescription, after that we walked to the medical library, and last we went to the orthopedics department in an attempt to get dad’s sling fixed. The chick at the counter really didn’t know what we were talking about, so we left a message. All of that madness at the evil empire took at least an hour and a half. On the way back down the maze-like parking structure I was stuck behind some Mitsubishi that was dropping some one off, and the kid took forever to get out. I’m usually a patient chica, but spending such a long period of time there made me cranky. My dad laughed when I announced "This parking lot is a prime example of the fascist manner in which this entire institution is run." Fascist is my favourite word for describing Shmiser.

My reward for all that waiting was lunch at Tsuguru, a restaurant in Japantown. Mmm! There’s nothing like tenpura udon to soothe one’s crankiness. My dad likes to order the oyako

When I got home my bank statement came, so off I went into the big bad world again to make a deposit. So of course, instead of taking the freeway like a smart girl, I took the expressway. What a mistake that turned out to be. There was a fresh accident on Almaden Expressway at Foxworthy Avenue. Police, ambulances, and fire engines came roaring into the intersection, effectively blocking the entire thing. If I didn’t have a fresh ticket, I might have jumped the curb like everyone else and driven to a different branch of the bank. But I was still a little gun shy (maybe "cop shy" would be more appropriate.) As we squeezed between emergency vehicles, I spotted a body in the road. In all of the accidents I’ve been in, I’ve never been thrown from my vehicle.

As I pulled into the driveway, I imagined relaxing for a bit. Maybe writing a letter or knitting, But NO! My dad’s surgeon called back and said we should go to the cast room if we needed help with the sling. What? Why didn’t the woman behind the desk in orthopedics tell us this. This time we drove in my dad’s car, because it has automatic locks. My dad can only get comfortable in the bask seat behind the driver, because of that damn sling. In my car, this meant that I had to unlock all four doors. (Because the back doors don’t have exterior locks.) After waiting for an opening in the cast room for about ten minutes, it was our turn. Although the employees were nice, they didn’t really seem to know any better than me how to get the cling on correctly. They wrestled with it for awhile before figuring it out.

Back we went to the car. We were headed to Mervyn’s because my dad wanted to buy a really big button down flannel to wear over his sling. That store didn’t have anything big enough though. Our only hope was Big & Tall, which is back in the opposite direction from which we just came. It was in this store that we hit the jackpot, scoring a giant sized flannel for $19.99. Dad was getting back into the backseat, and I was reaching back to buckle the seatbelt. "You have skinny arms! You can do it!" he said. But it took every bit of stretch I had in me to be able to reach. I lost it! I tried to stop myself, but I couldn’t help it. At first it was just giggles, but then it was full fledged laughing. Over the weekend my dad and I had been watching "Fawlty Towers", a real gem from the BBC which aired in the 70's. One character, Manuel, can barely speak English and is always getting into to trouble. Manuel never understands what people are saying and is always saying "Ees dee-fi-cult! Ees dee-fi-cult for mee!" Between my spasms of laugher I managed to squeak out "Ees dee- fi -cult!" Then my dad started to laugh and we both nearly had tears streaming down out faces when it was all over!

Psst! I've got a boyfriend, he's in love with me! I can't wait for him to get back. He's the best Valentine in the entire world!

~Tragic

The Trees

The Trees

There is unrest in the forest,
There is trouble with the trees,
For the maples want more sunlight
And the oaks ignore their pleas.

The trouble with the maples,
(And they're quite convinced they're right)
They say the oaks are just too lofty
And they grab up all the light.

But the oaks can't help their feelings
If they like the way they're made.
And they wonder why the maples
Can't be happy in their shade.T

here is trouble in the forest,
And the creatures all have fled,
As the maples scream "Oppression!"
And the oaks just shake their heads

So the maples formed a union
And demanded equal rights.
"The oaks are just too greedy;
We will make them give us light."
Now there's no more oak oppression,
For they passed a noble law,
And the trees are all kept equal
By hatchet, axe, and saw.

-Neil Peart

(I just really liked this poem. ~Tragic)

Listen up!

Remember to watch the Grammies tonight! No Doubt are up for several awards. Taken from the No Doubt WebSite (NoDoubt.com):

No Doubt Nominated For Grammy

No Doubt has been nominated in the Best Pop Performance By A Duo Or Group category for "It's My Life" from The Singles 1992-2003 collection. Gwen was also nominated in the Best Female Pop Performance category for her debut single "What You Waiting For?". The awards ceremony will take place on Sunday, February 13th, at the Staples Center in Los Angeles and will be broadcast live on CBS from 8 – 11:30 p.m. (EST/PST).

Also, congratulations to Jacques Lu Cont who has been nominated for Best Remixed Recording for his Thin White Duke Mix of "It's My Life" and to Toots & The Maytals who have been nominated for Best Reggae Album for True Love which features No Doubt on the track "Monkey Man".

Taken form Grammy.com:

Gwen Stefani, who has won two GRAMMYs with No Doubt, is nominated for her first solo release, "What You Waiting For?"

No Doubt, who have won the GRAMMY for BEST POP PERFORMANCE BY A DUO OR GROUP WITH VOCAL the last two years running, is nominated again this year with their remake of Talk Talk's 1984 hit, "It's My Life." The California group's previous wins in this category were for "Hey Baby" and "Underneath It All."

ความรัก , Tragic

(PS. all information above taken without permission of No Doubt or Grammy.com. In other words, please don't sue me.)

Happy TET!

Happy Vietnamese New Year!!!

Chuc Mung Nam Moi

Love, Tuyen

PS. Stay Safe mi amor!

ที่อยู่ชั่วนิรันดร์ หลงรัก

The Cold Embrace.....

... of San Francisco.

Going up to San Francisco or Oakland is always interesting. My best friend since I was 12, Preyma, went to UC Berkeley. Now, she lives up in Oakland, her ex-roommate and good friend used to live in SF, but recently (well, actually more like 6 months ago) moved to Jamaica Plains, Massachusetts. Anyway, the last time I made it up to "the city", they were having a party at Dolores Park, which I’d never been to before. The party was in honor of Persian New Year and was thrown by Shabnam. The only park I’d ever been to up there was Golden Gate Park, which can be kinda skanky sometimes (especially the part up by Haight/ Ashbury). I was a bit nervous going to SF that day because the last time I went, a cement truck side swiped my car while I was sitting in traffic, at a red light (an entire door had to be replaced!). I brought cookies, Shabnam brought Iranian food, and someone else brought beer. We hung out there for a few hours until the sun went down and it got super cold. (Remember, I’m a Californian and have a different standard for "super cold".)

I could never live in San Francisco. The parking (lack thereof), horrid traffic, numbers of (crazy?) homeless people who yell at you when you don’t give them money, and crappy weather don’t impress me much. There are some positive qualities about "the city" (as its referred to in the bay area), like great clubs, great restaurants, and... um... (give me a second, I’ll think of another quality) numerous museums make it a nice place to go– just talk someone else into driving you there so you don’t have to worry about driving, parking, damage from potholes (I swear my car was almost swallowed by once!) and kamikaze cement trucks. I don’t want to make anyone mad or hurt anyone’s feelings. It’s okay, as cities go. I’m just saying it’s not for me. All those dislikes probably just mean I’m getting old.

Although I was born in San Diego (at Balboa hospital, if you must know), when I was six months old, my family moved to San Jose when my dad got out of the Navy. So I’ve always regarded San Jose as my home town. And even though I like living here, I always wanted to (oooh, get ready for a cliche) wanted to "see the world."

When I was a 9th grader, our French class got a visit from the foreign exchange program. As I sat there, listening to an exchange student who had been to Japan, my eyes got big as saucers. I remember thinking "I’m going to that." Freshmen could not be exchange students, one had to be at least a 2nd semester sophomore. My imagination ran wild for months, trying to decide where I would go if I ever became an exchange student. Japan? France? Argentina? In the car with my mother one Spring day in 1994, I proclaimed "I’m not going to be like you! I’m going to be adventurous and see the world." My mom briefly looked at me, then turned her attention back to the road. I remember thinking ‘oops, that came out kind of wrong– kind of mean.’ I should have apologised or clarified what I meant, but it was already too late.

It was the meanest thing I ever said to my mother.

Three years later, my mom and I were eating a late lunch at Coco’s when she made her announcement. With only one-quarter of my Sicilian chicken sandwich eaten, she told me she was going to divorce my dad.

On TV or in the movies, these important moments can be dramatised in different ways. In "Jerry Macguire" (however you spell it), his boss takes him out to lunch at a swanky restaurant and fires him. Poor Jerry, played by Tom Cruise, begins to look around the room, suddenly aware of all the other people, and time seems to slow down. This was my experience at Coco’s. Before I started to cry, I remember looking around, suddenly embarrassed, sad, angry, etc.

You’d think in this so- called ‘culture of divorce’ that I would have at least seen one afternoon special or movie- of - the- week where the child of divorced parents develops some sort of serious problem, the root of which is the belief that he/ she caused her parents divorce, and only after said trauma is explored through therapy, yadda yadda yadda, is said kid able to move on. You’d think I might have seen at least one Dr. Phil episode exploring a similar theme about how a divorce is never the child’s fault, and grasp on to it like a piece of treasure, a flotation device in deep water.

You’d be wrong.

~besos

Blogger.com........

Is cheating me out of 20 posts. I counted my posts and there are at least 60 of them. But for months now my post total has stalled at 44. Technology is sometimes cool because it allows one to talk to her boyfriend, who is on the other side of the planet. But on the other hand, it really bites sometimes.

Why can't I get anything to work!??! (Stares and pouts at computer.)

~Tragic

Bored now.......

Any BtVS fans will appreciate tonight's title.

My dad is doing alright since his surgery. Twice a day, I have to put four new waterproof bandaids on his shoulder. Those little suckers are tricky! As a matter of fact I destroyed the first two before I even got them on. The family dog tried to assist be licking the bandaids first, but my dad resisted this gesture for some odd reason. I tried to sell him on the curative aspects of doggy spit, but he wasn't buying.

At least he's stopped fussing with his sling, for the most part. I only have to adjust once a day now instead of four or five times, which we were doing the first few days after the surgery.

Yours truly is suffering from some bad insomnia. Normal insomnia isn't that bad, but when it comes with restlessness and a short attention span, I can't even sit still long enough to knit or read any really borning books which might be laying around.

le sigh!

bon soir, Tragic Tuyen

Don't Let It Go Away This Feeling Has Got To Stay

NEW (G. Stefani, T. Dumont)
Return of Saturn

Don't let it go away
This feeling has got to stay
Don't let it go away
This feeling has got to stay
And I can't believe I've had this chance now
Don't let it go away

New, you're so new
You, you're new
And I never had this taste in the past
New, you're so new
My normal hesitation is gone
And I really gravitate to your will
Are you here to fetch me out?
Cause I've never had this taste in my mouth

You're not old
And you're not familiar
Recently discovered and I'm learning about you

New, you're so new
You, you're new
And you're consuming me violently
And your reverence shamelessly tempting me
Who sent this maniac?
Cause I never had this taste in the past

You're different, you're different from the former
Like a fresh battery I'm energized by you

Don't let it go away
This feeling has got to stay
Don't let it go away
This feeling has got to stay
And I can't believe I've had this chance now
Don't let it go away

Why am I so curious?
This territory is dangerous
I'll probably end up at the start
I'll be back in line with my broken heart

New, you're so new
You, you're new
And I never had this taste in the past

Don't let it go away
This feeling has got to stay
Don't let it go away
This feeling has got to stay
And I can't believe I've had this chance now
Don't let it go away

And I can't believe it
Can't believe it
Can't believe it
Can't believe it

Don't let it go away, this feeling has got to stay
Don't let it go away.

I'm really happy right now. Sleepy but happy. School has started up again, and as far as I can tell, I will be enrolled in two classes. Soviet History and African History, which adds up to two nights a week. Also, this is my last semester, as Tragic will **FINALLY** be graduating with her BA in history and minor in Eastern Religions.

Also, I've got a boyfriend, he's in love with me! Life is Sweet.

How could I ever forget you, mi amor? Soon we will be together forever!

Muchos Besos, Tragic Tuyen