There's this song that goes something like "I left my heart in San Francisco" (which I guess I can understand, because I think San Francisco is a nice city, despite apparently having a history of being notorious place). And I thought it was suitable considering what I was thinking about earlier.

The common belief is that being homesick will make a vacation miserable for a person. But I don't think that's necessarily the case. It's true, during the first one or two days of Yosemite, I was trying hard not to burst into desperate sobs, because I was unaccustomed to the rush of Yosemite, the horrible-smelling bathtubs, the thin walls of the tent (meaning that you could hear any loud noise being made elsewhere), and the lack of sympathy from much of the other people (judging from their excited attitudes, since I try to avoid pouring out my heart and soul to people I do not know well).

As is the unusual case here, after a few days, I realized that I would be going home soon, and with this thought in my mind, I acquired a much more positive attitude toward the Yosemite trip. Isn't it funny how wanting to go home can become your motivation? I kind of figured that if I had fun the time would pass faster and I could go home and sleep in my nice old bed and get to take a warm shower (the showers were so cold, it was warmer when you weren't showering than when you were showering...). And in this way I was able to enjoy the trip after all, despite being very paranoid for much of the time. I was very fearful during the hiking when we had to clamber up rocks (how precarious! One false move and you would fall all the way to the valley floor) and also when exploring caves (you could slip and break your bones or bang your head on the ceiling! Or you would at least end up with really dirty pants and gloves). But at the same time feeling the adrenaline rush was a good thing since it made me feel adventurous. For much of my life I had been craving something exciting. This is very contradictory considering that I'm a person that likes normality and regular comforting rhythms in their life.

Just the other night, I closed my eyes. I began to imagine that I was back in Yosemite again. I could imagine the covers on my bed turning into the top of the sleeping bag, and the quiet of the room turning into the annoying dripping and banging of the heater... For some reason this gave me a kind of comfort while also making me feel very nostalgic. I wonder if perhaps the reason why I keep waking up really early, like 7:00 am, when I don't need to get up until 7:45, is that my mind thinks, "Oh no! I am so late for the breakfast at Yosemite!" but that's not the case at all.

My parents said that maybe some other time, like in 2011, we could go to Yosemite again. I'd like to go back to Yosemite, but I feel like if I went back there, I wouldn't want to leave. I'd like my days to pass in a national park, the way some people spend a lot of time in Yellowstone, watching the wolves with their binoculars. I'd like to be somewhere where I can see the stars as clear as day and where the trees make the air delightfully fresh. And as dear as home is to me, that place is not here.

Labels: adrenaline, adventure, breakfast, danger, excitement, homesick, late, memories, morning, national park, nostalgia, shower, sleeping bag, song, sounds, surprise, trip, yellowstone, yosemite

Executive toys are basically things that people who work in corporations might keep on their desk. These items are nice to look at, or can be used for amusement, or something along those lines. (Note: This is my own definition of it, so I'm sorry if it is rather awkward) The typical executive toy would be Newton's cradle. A basic one is pictured below.

Though I don't have one myself, I think that basically, you pull back a ball at the end (either side should work) and it will hit the other balls, causing the one at the other end to move. I'm not sure how this works but I'm going to guess it's transfer of force. (You should look it up for an explanation, I'm afraid I only have the vaguest ideas)

The executive toy I have in mind, though, is a Galileo thermometer. I had one delivered to my house just recently. It comes with not only a thermometer but also a barometric ball. (Barometers are used to measure pressure in the atmosphere) Basically, it looks like the picture below.

I really like the Galileo thermometer because it is shiny and has nice colors. I am fond of glass and such things in general, since they are shiny objects. Of course, it's more accurate to use a regular thermometer than a Galileo thermometer, but a Galileo thermometer is fun... I guess.

Yesterday, my parents' friends came over to our house. It seems like practically anytime there is a holiday, we'll go to someone else's house or someone else will come to our house. I guess it's because only holidays like Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the New Year actually mean the adults get a day off. It's more convenient that way (especially since my mom's friend lives in Pleasanton, California, which is not that close to where I live). My mom's friend would like to go to Yellowstone National Park, and she wanted my mom to come along, but it would be a problem because I get motion sickness from driving so easily. There is no way to fly directly to Yellowstone, so it would definitely mean a road trip. Hearing my mom's friend say it would be hard to manage because of my carsickness made me feel kind of guilty (and also a little exasperated, because it's not like I can help getting carsick!) so I said to my parents, "Well, you can just go without me," after all the guests had left. But my parents said they didn't need to, because they had already been there.

I always get annoyed because my parents have been to places that I haven't. I want to travel all four corners of the globe (not that there are corners on a sphere), but there's still many places I have yet to go. Well, my parents have been to many states in the USA that I have NOT been to, like Montana, Wyoming, Idaho, Illinois, Wisconsin, Michigan, South Dakota (and they got their Master's Degrees in North Dakota), Minnesota, Indiana, Utah, Arizona, and Texas. They traveled to those states when I was not yet alive. I feel like I've missed out on a lot.

There is something that has always troubled me, and that is my childhood memories. I am talking about the ones that go pretty far back, as in my toddler years. I don't seem to have any memories of my parents. This is surprising, considered that I was not an adopted child (I'm too similar to my dad for that to be true D: ), and so I must've spent at least some hours of every day with my parents (even if they were both working so I had to spend time being babysat or at preschool). I mean, family is important, so shouldn't I remember them? The only relative I remembered, oddly enough, was my grandma. For some reason I have this memory of her holding me, on a beach in Hawaii, with the sun setting. But although I have photos of my parents and I, I can't remember it at all... The human mind is a mysterious thing.

Labels: adoption, barometer, brain, carsick, executive toy, family, friends, galileo thermometer, grandmother, hawaii, memories, newton's cradle, parents, travel, united states of america, yellowstone

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