zsa zsa zsu

October, I love you.

the blues

Another perspective of Yellowstone. This is higher up and very close to the hotsprings. It's amazing how such a variety of temperatures can be thrown together.

barren land

Taken just at the entrance into Yellowstone in Wyoming this past September 2008.

a dreary night

Taken at Niagara Falls, September 2006.

The moon is full and the wind is howling. It's a perfect night for a werewolf tale. *Insert spooky noise* I wish I had plans for Halloween. I'm strangely excited this year.

the waterfall

Taken at Yellowstone in Wyoming this past September 2008. This part of Yellowstone consisted of giant waterfalls, orange and yellow leaves, and seriously cold weather. I'm uploading this to commemorate the desert's current 68F air. Delectable.

the presidents

This was taken again in September 2008. You should already know what the picture is of. If not, please leave right now. The monument was actually a lot smaller than I expected, but the place does have stones representing each state's inauguration, an awesome ice cream shop and café, and the occasional mountain goat :)

life through colored lenses

This was taken this past September (I can't believe it's already October 2008) at Utah's Arches National Park. The place was rather blasé, but everyone around me seemed to love it. It's full of rocks formed by weather and you should go if you're a Grand Canyon kind of fan. The lighting is rather odd in this photo because I took it through my sunglasses :) It was just a thought.

the salt lake

This is the Great Salt Lake in guess what: Salt Lake City, Utah, taken this September. The water was very murky as expected and the day was incredibly hot, though nothing beats southern California.

Something strange happened last night as I was lying in bed waiting for sleep. I heard the distinct pitter patter of what could be rain, though the sounds were sporadic. It sounded like water from our AC dripping into the bucket we leave out to catch it, but that was downstairs in the backyard, diagonal from my bedroom window. I couldn't be hearing that from here. After a couple more erroneous theories, I finally went to the window to identify the sound. And I saw the additional patio awning my parents had built to stretch from where it left off over to my window ... four years ago. The thick grooves were catching the splashes of water. Yet five minutes ago, my memory of the house had included the incomplete patio. I've been back for a year now, and I go out back almost everyday. Why did I still think this?

And today at the public library, I sat writing in the reference section, surprised at all the books marked 2008 and 2009 around me. Somehow I still expected books from 1996 to clutter the shelves, smelling of the old and over-conditioned library I'd spent every science fair season at.

I guess I believed everything stood still here while I was away, that everything would still be in its original place when I returned. Maybe I'm just getting old and sentimental, but it's a bittersweet feeling, knowing life goes on with or without you.

hello october

Taken on Catalina Island right after I paid $11 for a sub-par sandwich, May 2008.

I was cleaning my study and laptop and saw some words I wanted to remember (but have forgotten):

The irony of commitment is that it's deeply liberating - in work, in play, in love. The act frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around as rational hesitation. To commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life.