See you there!

Love,
Grapes/Katherine

P.S. I’ll still be monitoring this blog, so feel free to comment on any posts here as well.

Once it’s staring you in the face, moving on from something is very sad. I know that “this too shall pass” and one day I’ll have forgotten most of this feeling, until the well-timed song is played or a scent hits me.

What can I say to really go out with a bang? I don’t know, except that this year has been almost personally revolutionary. I’m so much more self-assured and content.

Tomorrow I plan to move out of the transition and into…whatever’s next. Sleepless school nights, for sure. Which reminds me that my sister has been accepted into my high school. Sharing a school with a sibling is something I have forgotten for four years. But I’m excited.

I guess this is all I have to say. In the comments you guys could share your favorite post, and we’ll do a bit of what old people and war veterans do best: reminisce. I personally don’t have a favorite post. There are some that were obviously churned out, some I wrote in an emotional state or a ranting state, and that I’d never like to see again. But I wrote it and there’s no taking it down.

I can feel the difference in my personality, and it’s weird, to be honest. I still blush whenever I say something’s cute. I’m okay with hugs now though, so Miya should be happy. But don’t fret, some aspects of girliness will always remain ridiculous. Like twirling your hair in biology. Fatteh.

There are so many highlights of this year, as evidenced by my page in Miya’s yearbook inserts. Some inside jokes are remembered and some slip away. I’m getting a bit too deep here, but the heaviness of that I am leaving this blog, and it will probably waste away, is just hitting me. I don’t want to leave, at this moment. So I keep rambling on. Letters From Katherine is like a stranger still, I’m hesitant to approach.

But I’m keeping my promise. Come tomorrow you will see something up there, the very first post.

Dear tangible, face-to-face buddies,

Thanks so much for coming over on Saturday. I guess this is my thank you card to you all, even if most of you will never see it.

I know I’m dragging on the suspense about what the party actually looked like, but I’m still missing pictures and I’d really like to show, not tell. I don’t even know if the pictures are of anything.

You guys made the best birthday ever. I look at my backyard now and it looks like a wasteland, even if the plants and that one flowery bush that the birds live in are still there.

I will never forget when Alex wouldn’t stop texting Miya and she called him for us to scream at. And he still didn’t believe that she was at my house. And when we were playing taboo and Miya said, “Guys do this,” and Amanda yelled, “Masturbate!” and there was a miniscule awkward silence.

Or the sight of everyone on the cement floor drawing with chalk like we were in kindergarten, and Angela on the little red car thingy not getting anywhere. And Sushi being a rebel and acting her age by sitting in a chair playing with her phone.

I’ll always have the image of us cheering each other on during pin the tail on the donkey – even if we were cheering them on toward the wrong direction and into some spiky plants. And the donkey that looked like it had been raped in the butt.

And I’ll never forget that we thawed the cake for too long and the chocolate chips all melted off. But you guys sang happy birthday, which was an improvement from last year. And the bubbles – they were so pretty, especially at night. And how we spent more time explaining Clue than playing it. And how we laughed at Norther Winslow & Billy Crudup – tee hee.

I hope it never rains so that the ugly face you drew and your tic-tac-toe games and Tiffany’s name written on every empty space never washes away. Because then that would mean that it was really over. It was the greatest party ever in my mind – you don’t have to agree.

Sushi & Angela: thank you for the Kohl’s gift card. Anusha you really love Kohl’s, you fatteh.

Sunyoung & Tiffany: Thanks for the movie tickets and oh my gosh the card! It dazzles. And it is a pop up bookish thing, which is lkjflkjweklfjwkjfwkjwkrjwrsirlsjrs awesome. And it has a pirate ship.

Amanda: Whatever your present is going to be…and the awesome card you promised, thanks.

Miya & Nicole: Danke for helping out. I couldn’t have done it without being able to frantically email you with insecurities, nor without your ipod and speakers.

What was most profound was how mature we had all gotten – mature enough to be immature. And to laugh at Miya’s sex jokes (you fattehhhhh) and Sushi’s “prostate exam” that was really “pasta in a cup”. The ears, they deceive.

Why did you want to be so rebellious Sushi, and eat pasta from a cup unlike everyone else when we had those gigantic yellow plates.

I keep trying to find words to describe this party, but I just get happy feelings. I’m glad that we didn’t go anywhere other than my backyard, because the good things about this party came from the people and not the activities or the location. I wonder what can live up to this in the future?

Love,
Grapes/Katherine

I know, it’s Monday and happiness is supposed to come to you on Sundays. I won’t tell if you don’t.

1. Parties. Now that I’ve tasted heaven I’m never going back. It wasn’t the food or the games or the decorations, although those helped. As cheesy as it sounds, my buddies made it the best birthday ever. The fact that they actually participated in my silly activities was enough to put a grin on my face. I was so worried we’d act like teenagers but we were children for one afternoon.

2. High-speed Internet. How I’ve missed you.

3. Pirate English facebook. Every time I sign in I’m greeted with the worst, cheesiest pirate slang ever. And I smile every time. Ye Olde Facebook brings a smile to my face. The best is when I forget about it and am completely surprised.

4. The Motorcycle Diaries. What a pleasant surprise. I remember when they won an Oscar for Best Original Song, and I was like…when is this performance over. Movie’s great though.

5. Toilets. I just had a moment of appreciation this week when I realized what life would be like if we had to scoop our own poop. Blarrrggghhh.

6. This morning as my mom and I were driving to check out some apartments we saw a dad and his two sons crossing the street to Regional Park. It was so cute because the older son who was like six or younger was holding a bag of bread to feed the ducks. Because Regional Park is a duck harem, we all know that. Old people like to go there to feed them, and Mexican families. Asian families are not fond of feeding ducks. I wish we were. Whell the father and sons were white, but the dad was carrying his little son, like where the kid sits on your arm…? And the little boy had blonde hair and his older brother had auburnish so my mom was like, talking about genetics…and I was just going, “awwwwwwwwwwwwww.” Okay I’ll admit to talking about genetics too. I said, “He must have a recessive gene.”

7. Talks with my mom where we complain about men. I never thought this day would come. We also watch chick flicks now. I keep suppressing the urge to ask her if she wants to see “Julie and Julia” or “500 Days of Summer” with the two tickets I got for my birthday. But I must save them. And I actually don’t really want to see “Julie and Julia”. Last night we watched “Pride and Prejudice”. And I finally understood the symbolism behind Mr. Darcy walking to Elizabeth’s house at the end. I’m too slow.

This was one happy week, but the explosion of the party made all the other little things fly out of my mind. I’m struggling to gather them back, so there’s only seven this week.

On a horrifying note, there is fanfiction for the Jack Sparrow book series by Rob Kidd. Blarklrewkrjwe. At least its not polluting the movie fanfiction section. Although sometimes it seeps in and I shun. No one needs to know Jack Sparrow’s past, and I don’t consider the series canon.

Wait. Take me with you! I long to be a Mary-Sue.

Although most of my gift guides are in jest, this one is full of the things I really want. Okay, with a few jests. But since my birthday party has come and gone (more on that later), I’ve gotten all the presents I’m likely to get this year. A gift card and two movie tickets. How creative we are these days. Hush, it’s the thought that counts, right? Well maybe I should get richer friends. Just kidding. Although that is the spirit of these gift guides.

No pictures this time because I have a stone-age computer.

1. camera. A good one, that I can mess around with. Photography, not video.

2. tripod. So that my video camera can be propped up without the use of a mountain of books.

3. a new ipod screen, because I sat on mine and the internal screen broke. I see only static. I can’t even maneuver it to be visible anymore.

4. a road trip. If only we could all drop everything and cross the country in a hippie bus. Fine, even an ugly modern RV would be fine. Probably more comfortable too.

5. A Shakespearean troupe. What? Twelve actors, at my disposal and completely dedicated to my project? White actors to appeal to the masses? Because all I’ve ever worked with are Asian teenagers. Not appealing at all.

6. Arizona Dream. I bow to you, whoever gets me this.

7. My barbecue. This would be even greater than “Arizona Dream”. Oh, to have Johnny Depp, MIKA, Geoffrey Rush, Anusha, Danny Boyle, Deep Roy, Shel Silverstein, and Sean Connery, among others, gathered in my backyard gnawing on ribs. And to have the Pointy Chin Club watching from their glass display cases. Cameron, no using your chin to cut a hole into the glass. I don’t care if you can’t breath in there! Eat your chin!

8. A new computer. This one might actually come true. And I canst wait.

How great it is to finally have Johnny Depp sunglasses off this list.

The next gift guide that I am aware of is Amanda’s, in November. Hang in there. Although a back-to-school one sounds good too.

Dear readers,

It’s a one-man panic party at my house as I prepare for my party. In all my freaking out, I forgot that you get presents at birthday parties. This must be the first birthday where presents was not on my mind.

Yesterday spoiled me, really. Being at my mom’s office with high-speed Internet was heaven. I got a lot of work done on Letters From Katherine. This morning when I started up this computer I remembered reality. Seriously though, isn’t Verizon wireless supposed to be really really good? My dad claims it’s a conspiracy to get us all to switch to FIOS. That would be stooping low, but I don’t think it’s come to that.

I’m worried that we’ll run out of things to do at my party. We certainly won’t run out of food. We’re planning on serving pasta, but my mom just went out and bought three Domino’s pizzas “for lunch”. I suspect foul play. We’ll probably end up eating pizza for dinner too.

At Wal-Mart the streamer section was pitifully understocked. And even if I planned to use our own plates and such my mom insisted on some sort of color coordination, which means Mad Hatter-style is out.

I hope it doesn’t come down to, “I’m bored, let’s watch a movie.” Because that make this no different from any other gathering. My friends are always gathering at someone’s house to watch a movie.

So I guess I’ll see you after the party.

With Crossed Fingers,
Grapes

Dear readers,

In the midst of futilely trying to hang on to my awesome dream this morning (I’ll only say that there was an epidemic & rabid bear), my mom returned home from work early. My first thought was, “Oh god, is it noon already? What a fatteh I am for lounging in bed for so long.”

But no, she came home to take me to work. A self-imposed “take your kid to work” day. So here I am, at her office, blogging. The irony is that it’s her boss’ wife’s birthday, so we basically went around buying things that I will buy again for Saturday. Then we had a little party at the office with Chinese food and cake. The ice cream cake from Baskin Robbins just secured its place on my birthday menu. It is delicious.

Last night I watched “Shattered Glass”, a movie about Stephen Glass - a writer for New Republic magazine in the 90′s. He fabricated around half of his articles, 27 out of 41, I believe. How did he do something so unbelievable? The movie itself wasn’t bad. Hayden Christensen played Glass, with a supporting cast of Hank Azaria, Chloe Sevigny, and Peter Saarsgard. While it hasn’t become one of my favorites, it succeeded in leaving a lasting impact on me. Oftentimes I finish a movie with no feelings whatsoever, just a blank and perhaps a blurry plotline. That’s not to say the plots are muddled – I think the execution renders them not memorable.

The night before I watched “Mister Lonely”, a movie about a Michael Jackson impersonator, played by Diego Luna. Personally, I think he resembled Elvis more than Michael Jackson, but he did a great job nonetheless. The premise of the movie was very interesting. He’s in Paris and he meets a Marilyn Monroe impersonator (Samantha Morton – from “The Libertine”, with Johnny Depp of course) who invites him to return to her husband’s impersonator commune in the Highlands. By the way, her husband is Charlie Chaplin and their daughter is Shirley Temple. Other residents include a dirty-mouthed Abe Lincoln (who wasn’t as scary as the real deal), the pope, the Three Stooges, Madonna, the Queen, and James Dean.

The movie was very independent – meaning this was clearly made for the director’s vision and not for the audience. I didn’t like it, but I know the director put a lot of effort into it and I’m not going to say it was a bad movie. In fact, it was very imaginative and fresh.

Ever since I read that magazine where they discussed the stars of tomorrow (and said that Robert Pattinson was the new Johnny Depp – blasphemy), I’ve been wondering who my children will look up to. Inevitably the teen stars of today will continue working and become the mainstream actors. And in that way, Robert Pattinson will become the next Johnny Depp and Johnny Depp will become the next Sean Connery. Blarghhh. It’s a vicious cycle, and this is where nostalgia comes from. So far only a few young actors impress me, but I believe that they will become more experienced and show some real talent. It’s weird to think that my daughter might end up crushing on Zac Efron who by then will be forty-something. How will I deal with that?

Grapes’ daughter: oh my zac! (because that is what obnoxious fangirls do.) He’s so hot!
Me: *puts “High School Musical” in blu-ray machine (because this is the future apparently)* Look! Look at the sheer gayness! Repent! Watch this instead! *puts in CatCF*
Grapes’ daughter: And this is less gay?
Me: Oops. *puts in PotC*
Grapes’ daughter: *sees Jack Sparrow* Still gay.
Me: *puts in “Don Juan DeMarco”*

Of course it won’t work. Speaking of blu-ray and HD and all that stuff, I don’t like it. I don’t like the fact that we have to see every sharp detail. There’s magic in blurriness, just like there’s magic in hand-drawn animation. The more technological we get the less awesomeness there is in stuff. And that, I believe, was part of the problem with PotC 2 & 3. They got consumed with having the latest effects and making everything technologically epic that the story suffered. And you know how I feel about PotC 3. Why would you put the story back on Elizabeth if it’s obvious Jack is the one people go to see? Protagonist be damned, go with the flow!

Sincerely,
Grapes

Dear readers,

The recent explosion of Mad Hatter tea party-themed parties must be due to the upcoming movie, but that doesn’t mean I won’t steal a bit of the fun too. This is one trend I don’t mind following the crowd on.

The party planning is coming along really well. Miya’s going to produce a sure-to-be fun music playlist spanning decades and perhaps genres as well. The games are set and food as well. We’ll be having spaghetti for dinner, because you can’t go wrong with a classic. Also, Sushi is vegetarian so we can keep the meatballs separate. Although it must be depressing just eating noodle.

I’m going to Wal-Mart today to pick up decorations. I’ll be like a kid in a candy shop, just you wait. My parents are being extremely lenient with the budget. I attribute that to the fact that this is my sixteenth birthday. I hate the phrase “sweet sixteen” though. It gives me the image of Hilary Duff and pink and blond hair and ditziness.

The only hitch so far is that there is a giant spiderweb spanning the width of my backyard. I will have to conquer this eventually and run out screaming in all directions to tear it down.

It’s amazing how the vision of this party has evolved. Remember when I was going on and on about six degrees and childhood? I think the word now would be “pretty”. Whatever is pretty is allowed, even if it isn’t six degreed to me.  Although we are still being silly.

I’ll ask Miya for pictures and try to have them up as soon as possible afterwards. The day is drawing near – we’re going to be moving soon! I mean that both literally and about my blog. We are moving to an apartment, as I’ve mentioned. On top of that there’s the blog move. I’m excited for a fresh start.

I don’t like it when commercials use the valley girl stereotype or the perception that teens think what they look like is the end of the world in order to sell a product to their parents. I hear it increasingly now that it’s back-to-school season. I would never tell my mom that not having a designer jacket was the death of me. Maybe this applies to an earlier generation, but in that case they need to resurvey teenagers. Who even cares whether or not it’s designer. Heck, I hate having logos on my clothing. The more nondescript the better.

Wow. I’m about to turn sixteen – the epitome of teenager. I don’t know what to say. Only yesterday I was marveling over the fact that the 60′s encyclopedia I loved to read said that at 9 I was a preteen. I was so excited. But I wouldn’t go back – it’s nice to say that. I like where I am.

Speaking of teenagers, John Hughes passed away this morning during his morning walk in Manhattan. That’s the strangest place to die, frankly. But with all due respect, rest in peace. I only recently saw his movies for the first time (with the exception of “Home Alone” because who hasn’t seen those?) and I think he was a very special director. I’m still trying to figure it out, but there was something different about his work.

You know those people who you don’t think of as dead or alive? When they die you’re kind of shocked that they were alive in the first place. People like that for me were Gerald Ford, Audrey Hepburn, and John Hughes. Maybe Shirley Temple except she’s still alive.

If I seem to go on about growing up and marvel over the changes that have happened to me, it’s because it never leaves my mind. With such a fascination you might recommend that I go into the field of psychology, but the longer I stay in this class the more miserable I get. Discussing personal theories is fun but frankly when we get technical about it my eyes glaze over. Same with journalism. I get miserable thinking about writing news reports. I’d rather put my theories and ideals inside art.

I struggle with whether or not to continue with this internship, because I don’t like journalism at all. Yet they take us to film festivals and events. Actually we’ve been going to less and less. I wish there was a film internship for high school students. Do I stay because it is right to persevere, or do I leave because it’s right to do what you love?

Enough deepness. I’ve finished the movie charades slips and I’m about to print and cut them out. I love that I’m not going anywhere for my birthday. While a day at Knott’s Berry Farm is exciting, there’s nothing like bringing the fun to your own home.

Just you watch. I’m going to eat my words and have one of the worst sixteenth birthdays in the history of mankind. Oh, there I go exaggerating like the teenagers in those advertisements. My life is over. I’ll have no friends! Like, oh my god.

Love,
Grapes

P.S. Just kidding.

P.P.S. Oh anchor jacket, how I’ve missed you.

P.P.P.S. My butt is the ruiner of things. How many times have I tried to pull something out from under it only to not be able to lift it high enough, thus breaking whatever it is? First my ipod, which I sat on, and now my anchor necklace. Among other things.

P.P.P.P.S. I thought someone was breaking into my house but it was just my printer, hard at work.

Dear readers,

My mood has improved remarkably since yesterday morning.

Last night I watched “Shine”, the movie that apparently made Geoffrey Rush famous. He is brilliant, and that is why he’s one of my favorite actors. Ah, Geoffrey Rush. It always brings up that conversation in biology two years ago. Well, bad biological choice or not I have only admiration for him. Nowadays it has less to do with the fact that he is Barbossa. Progress!

The movie was a little painful to watch, for two reasons. I wanted to punch David Helfgott’s father in the face, and movies about music always bring up blarghness.

For a moment the movie bordered on becoming the usual biopic, but then it got a lot better once adult David appeared. Although Noah Taylor was excellent too. Finally he is more to me than “Mr. Bucket”.

“Leatherheads”, on the other hand, was almost unbearable. I was literally squirming during one of the verbal jousting scenes between George Clooney and Renee Zellweger. I never saw it before, but he does bear a resemblance to Cary Grant, and in today’s cinema I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Watching “North by Northwest” I couldn’t see the appeal of Cary Grant, but I’m sure it’s a generational thing. It was like watching “CSI: Miami”, just taking turns spouting one-liners one after the other. They took the old movie style even to the unbelievability of the actors.

No doubt with the beginning of the school year everyone will be speculating about how time has gone by. I can still remember being in seventh grade, looking up at the posters lining the halls, wondering how I was going to survive six years in this little place.

Change of plans: birthday party looks to be this Saturday. Hectic planning is a go!

The other day I was in the car with my mom listening to the radio when this 80′s song comes on and my mom says she used to love that song. Shocked, I was, because my mom’s from Taiwan and it’s just weird when your immigrant parents know this stuff. Then we listened to it together. In awkward silence.

Off I go then, because this post is starting to sound forced.

Love,
Grapes

P.S. For a great imitation of Cary Grant, watch “Arizona Dream”.

Dear readers,

Sometimes all you can say is “Wow.” That sometimes is now, and I swear I didn’t plan that rhyme.

Okay, “wow” moment has been explained and passed. For a moment I was frustrated that Miya may not come over tomorrow, despite the fact we’ve been postponing this for a week and a half. All is probably well.

Ever since my happiness post in which I gushed embarrassingly about Charlotte Gainsbourg, I’ve realized that I’ve never had a female role model other than my mom. On the topic of Grapes’ personal role models you could mention Johnny Depp/Jack Sparrow, and maybe briefly even MIKA, among other famous men. Imagine the identity crisis. And all the while I subconsciously wanted to be less weird and more elegant. Blargh.

I’ve never been able to bring up a favorite actress. Favorite actors I have galore, but not actresses.

So I’ve been mulling over a new feature on the blog. This of course would be instated at Letters From Katherine, because this blog is at the end of its days anyway. Maybe one here as a test. I’d blog about some influential or just plain awesome woman. This ranges from Audrey Hepburn to Catherine the Great. Catherine the Great has just stayed in my mind because my dad always brings her up when I’m looking for campaign slogans.

It would include pictures, quotes, and a brief biography, among other things. Maybe eventually we’ll move on to guys. Would definitely be interesting. Or would you rather have them just be people in general so we can talk about both guys and girls?

Do you say “It’s okay” or “Don’t worry about it”? Just curious, because I’ve always said “it’s okay” and people reprimanded me for being a slight pushover. Now that I think about it, “don’t worry about it” has a nice ring to it. The other person would of course respond, “I’ll try not to”, and there would be a moment. I’m joking.

Adults think we still talk as if we were in “Clueless”. Hello? The valley girl thing is like, so last decade. Or maybe some of us do, which makes the rest of us seem that much smarter for talking like regular people.

I hear that MIKA’s doing the soundtrack for a biopic on P.T. Barnum starring Hugh Jackman, which frankly I would run to see. The perfect combination of music and subject. As for actor, I’m not freaking out for, but I don’t object. Hugh Jackman is a great actor. I’ve always thought that MIKA would be able to create a great soundtrack. He’s got the theatrical sound.

I realize I’m behind on Dr. Frank. So sorry, but I’ll catch up asap.

Being in this house seven days a week makes it so true: humans need human interaction. I wonder if my negativity is coming from my “house arrest”. No wonder they use it as punishment.

Love,
Grapes

P.S. I can’t wait for the day I get to sign these as “Katherine”.