Fix me.

I won't let you turn around
And tell me now, I'm much too proud
To walk away from something when it's dead

If only I got paid to just do what Julie does. Sing, dance, act, cook, draw, paint, read...just everything. It sucks how I'm being forced to learn the crap out of one thing and do it the rest of my life when I love to do so much more. It makes me feel like a statistic. I'm a piece to a forever unfinished puzzle. I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown-- I'm having a mid-life crisis at 18. Fuckin' heinous.

This world is too big for me, but at the same time, it feels too small. Like what the inside of an asian parent's narrow mind would look. Or like the clockwork of a machine; efficiently packed gear to gear. And I feel like the loose screw.

Guess my only hope is to win the lottery. Fuck me.

Pick me up.

The rush of dopamine left as quickly as it came.
Whenever I'm in leadership, I feel like I belong; like I matter. I'm active, I'm articulate, and I'm happy...
But whenever I set foot in this godforsaken place with its godforsaken money-leeching programs...I'm timid, self-conscious, and afraid.
I don't like it...everyday I'm afraid of something.
I'm afraid I'm not going to pass chemistry, I'm afraid of my parents' disappointment, afraid of not being good enough.
In this place, I feel confined; desolate. I want to find a family here...I need someone to understand my views on life and the world, and won't condescend me for it. Most of all, I need people to encourage me to leave this dead dream that I'm trying to keep up, and tell me how to do it without hurting my family.

I'm so tired...I just want it to end. I don't think a week-long holiday will make it any better...I don't think a 3-month holiday would do much either. I want it to end. I don't want to be a part of it anymore. I need help.

Purpose.

God, what a day. And what beautiful people. This is why I'm here.
Life just rocks.

The world is showing its true colors.

Pure brutality.

No empathy, no compassion.

If this is where the world is headed, count me the fuck out.

Stop.

Just one of those days when I feel like there's just no end. Essay after essay, midterm after midterm, sleepless night after sleepless night. At every possible moment, I'm looking for a way to distract myself; always finding an escape route to run away from my problems. That just gets me into more trouble. And I just keep running. And the cycle repeats. And repeats.

I'm tired of it all. I'm tired of myself, and tired of hating myself for feeling sorry for myself.

I want to start a paragraph where I want to start it.


I don't want to transition my ideas. They are not cohesive in my head.

I want to stop writing when I want to stop. No required number of pages or words. Just end when I run out of things to say.

What does being 18 mean so far?

The way things are going with my parents:

More responsibility.
Less privilege.
Bull shit.

I crumbled even before you struck.

People don't walk all over you. You just give way to them. Lesson learned.

Been re-reading Harry Potter....

And I have to say, now that I've seen all the movies, I'm not completely satisfied with some of the casting. So let's pretend for a bit, shall we? I'm going to try to plug these new characters into my head as I start to read Deathly Hallows...just to put my mind at ease.

Nymphadora Tonks: Agyness Deyn (Courtesy of Deej)I always imagined Tonks looking a a bit masculine, but still keeping those feminine features with a bubbly personality, non?

Remus Lupin: Viggo Mortensen who is the only person I can think of who is older like is described in the book and can still make out with a younger woman without looking awkward. Also, he has that responsible, steady but melancholy attitude that Lupin has.

Sirius Black: Sean Bean--handsome, impulsive but weathered....definitely my cup o' tea; haaay! ;D

I cannot stand the Dumbledore they picked for the movies (that is, after Richard Harris died...). They needed someone a little more light and eccentric and less of a brooding stick in the mud.
Someone like Gandalf Sir Ian Mckellen

WOW, I just notice that 3/4 of these new "cast members" were cast members of LOTR, LOL!

The Sunniest Days of Summer

Couldn't have asked for a better birthday weekend.

Phase 1: The "Cotillion"

Last minute birthday picnic in the park that I couldn't even find...BBQ ribs with friends...camera whoring for an hour and a half...then the boy toy surprising me by stopping by to say hi. Ended the day with chatting with Deej and Leslie about life and Harry Potter. The best.

Phase 2: Julie Vs. Wild

Been planning this hiking trip for days--my cousins bought me army boots and cameo pants and everything. And we decide to embark on a 9-mile hike into the Big Basin Redwood Forest. We encountered banana slugs, millipedes, lizards, snakes...and various classifications of the homo sapien species. Ah, the wilderness. By the time we finished,though I was a languishing specimen, I'm proud to say this:

Julie: 1
Wilderness: 0

And I think that is the most perfect way to begin adulthood.

DIY-er for life.

A beanie hat that my sister and I made for her anime fetish. The materials only cost a little over a dollar! I love it when things work out this way :D

A lantern that I made for my boyfriend. I'm not gonna lie. I did most of the work. >:P

My blog. I can post as I please. Yes, that sounds right.

More Freddy Eynsford-Hill My Fair Lady.

For those of you who don't know what My Fair Lady is, allow me....
It's a broadway play about a common flower girl named Eliza whose speech and phonetic diction are borderline offensive. She runs into Professor Higgins who is renowned for his research on perfect English and pronunciation. In a bet, Professor Higgins takes on Eliza to teach her English well enough for her to trick all the posh aristocrats at the Embassy Ball into thinking that she was one of them. Oh and Freddy. He's the most important character. He falls for Eliza, but that doesn't matter because he belongs to me.



HE'S SO ROMANTIC<333333333333333

My MOST FAVORITEST SCENE IN THE WHOLE MOVIE... and those hats. I need those hats in my life.

RIP Amy Winehouse

I've only started listening to her music at the beginning of this year, but I was very sad that she died, and really, no one deserves to die the way she did. I hope she finds peace at last, and her voice will forever remain legendary.

Show me, gosh darnit!

Men, you'd better be taking notes. *cough cough*

ALSO: Freddy/ Jeremy Brett is sodding gorgeous. Although now, unfortunately, deceased.

I learned more in 5 minutes of watching this video than I did in a week of AP Lit....

He talks so damn fast though..... >.>"

loved the line that went "we are the fashionable East egg with our polo ponies (...) BUT NONE OF US ARE HAVING.ANY.FUN. >:[" GPOY.

He also talks about how wealth in America consumes both the rich and the poor. We go through life seeking money. Or so it seems. We stopped putting gold and silver into that shit hella days ago. Money is all just paper and junk metal now. But the idea it symbolizes is what draws us to it. In America, money represents happiness.

To me, happiness is being loved--feeling like you matter. But now, with media sensationalizing sexuality, attraction, bling... the only way one can feel like they matter is to conform to these social standards. A girl needs certain clothes to feel like she matters. Money can buy her those clothes. A guy needs a fancy car to feel like he matters. Money can get him that car. All of this, though, is only face value. A girl's looks will go away, and a guy can't sustain a relationship with nothing but his car...and this is why Daisy Buchanan will be nothing but a "beautiful fool."

So I'm going to conclude with this:
Know what happiness is. Money is nothing but a substitute in the absence of happiness. I really do hope I don't forget that when college sweeps me up and away.

So, Julie what did you do today?

Oh, nothing...just climbed a fucking mountain! :D

Oh, hello!

Been busy, that's all I have to say x]

It is currently 6:45,the damned ass crack of dawn, and I'm up...supposed to be getting ready for my hiking trip with my cousin. Oh gosh, I go from couch potato to trailblazer in a matter of days. What a wondrous moment this is. It's really been too long since I've needed a goddamn pair of socks. -____-

I went to SCU orientation a week ago, met lots of friends (freshman, students, and professors alike), got all the classes I wanted, enjoyed a beautiful campus, and lost some weight while I was at it all! LIFE IS GOOD.

One more quick story:
Yesterday, I took my first blood test in x amount of years. I was pretty calm about it until they brought out this obscenely large needle (if you can call it a needle...it was a metal skewer) that they impaled me with and took three vials of my life's work. LOL, gah, I'm being a drama queen...it wasn't that bad....

*sigh* well it's 6:54, and I've procrastinated quite enough. Toodles!

First Comission: Day 3-variable n.

Today, I admit a fault of mine- neglect.

It is because of this horrendous sin that I've failed to keep track of my progress on le portrait.

as a consolation, however, I did take pictures! Yeah? Yeah? :'D

This is when I started to look like my cousin. -3-

Took this picture today; the faces are getting lots better. (LOL, like my makeshift easel? ;D)

Close-up. I finally got the mouth right.

So guys, what can you tell me about l'amour?

*sigh* The hopeless romantic in me is a shattered wreck.

Doubt

An amazing film. Just to give a short synopsis of the happenings without giving away too much...

A sharp-tongued, xenophobic Catholic nun. A warm- hearted, open minded Catholic priest with a passion for compassion (hehe). Two completely different sides of the spiritual and religious spectrum clashing forces under the roof of a quaint Catholic school for young, pubescent boys and girls. The story takes place when, under the scrutiny of the said nun in charge of the school, the seemingly innocent relationship between said priest and a young and isolated boy is twisted into an act of blasphemy. And within the question of certainty of the situation resonates one word--doubt.

There were a couple valuable scraps of wisdom that I picked up from the movie; all of which were from the priest's sermons. Talk about irony when I can listen to sermons in movies, but not in real life. Heinous.

The first sermon was about doubt. Duh. But the one thing I picked up from it was something more along the lines of human connection. When you experience feelings of doubt, fear, depression, anxiety, it breeds isolation. But the point he made in his sermon was that anyone who was ever human has experienced these feelings too. This establishes a universal and unbreakable, but indirect bond between you and every single person on the planet, making isolation quite simply impossible. And I think that if we were able to completely understand this, more tangible connections like empathy and love would be so much easier to achieve; and feelings like pride and hate would be pointless. Why? When you can relate to a person, it's easier to appreciate them. When you call out a person for being angry just like you have been on occaision, what's the point? Maybe it's this concept of human connection that breeds the long sought-after tolerance that we all need, yeah?

The second sermon was so well told, that I felt it fitting to share it it word for word (SPOILER ALERT):



So, over all, this movie made it onto my summer favorites list. If I had a million stars, I'd give them all to this movie.... *sigh* :)

well, toodles, all~

First Commission: Day 3

Finally ready to paint!

I took the painting over to Lyndsey's because I was in desperate need of help with the faces. I liked the outcome, non?

IN OTHER NEWS:

The scarf is half way done (although I am in no immediate need of a scarf whatsoever. HEINOUS!) I'm proud of it nonetheless, and if anything, the knitting process relaxes me.

Also! I'm ready to read the next book on my summer reading list:

Hopefully some sagacious quotes will ensue. We'll see. ;D

Hmmm... I think that's about all worth mentioning.

WHAT ABOUT MY FIRST DRIVING EXPERIENCE? Shush.....it'll be okay, Julie.

"Julie, did you gain weight?"

Excuse me, Ms. Lady, CAN WE NOT?

My mobility... *crey*

Dumpling

Who's the best darn sister in the world?

So my sister is doing some kind of "for fun" group assignment for her class and she felt it was essential that she brought her friends over to our house. That means that Julie had to give up her morning cleaning the bathrooms, clearing the laundry and baking snacks. If this doesn't prove I love my sister, I don't know what will. HURR HURR.

But I enjoyed the baking part of it. If anything, it was incredibly therapeutic. Cleaning up after myself, however, was not.

(Here are my little babiez!)

Recipe for those of you interested!

Cookie Batter:
> 1-1/3 cups and 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
> 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
> 1/4 teaspoon baking powder
> 1/2 cup butter, softened
> 3/4 cup white sugar
> 1/2 egg (beat up one egg and pour half of it into the mixture)
> 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1. Cream together butter & sugar
2. Add egg & vanilla
3. Mix together flour, baking soda, baking powder in a separate bowl.
4. Combine wet and dry ingredients.

I divided the batter in 3 because I made 3 kinds of cookies:

Cream Cheese Sandwich Cookies:

1. I added a few drops of red food coloring to 1/3 of the batter (just my preference)
2. Roll teaspoon-sized amounts of batter onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper and flattened them out a little.
3. Bake at 375 for 8 minutes.
4. Take them out and leave them to cool in the tray for a little bit, and then move them to a cooling rack (I just used one of the oven racks hehehe...)

Cream Cheese Filling:
> 6 oz. cream cheese at room temperature
> 4 tbs unsalted butter at room temperature
> 1/2 cup of powdered sugar
> 1 tsp vanilla

5. Cream together butter and cream cheese, then add everything else and mix until smooth.
6. ASSEMBLE: pair up the cookies and sandwich them with some cream cheese.

**NOTE: I had a shit ton of cream cheese left...for me to eat. Perks of the job. But feel free to cut the filling recipe in half if you don't want to make too many.

"Milanos":

1. Roll teaspoon-sized amounts to he cookie sheet lined with parchment paper and flatten them a little bit.
2. Bake at 375 for 8 minutes.
3. Allow to cool just like before.

Chocolate Filling:

> About a 1/2 cup of chocolate truffles (or any other chocolate)
> A little over 1 tbs of milk

4. Melt chocolate and milk for 20 second intervals in the microwave until there are no lumps.
5. ASSEMBLE AS BEFORE.

Snickerdoodles
1. Roll teaspoon-sized amounts again.
2. Roll the batter in a mixture of cinnamon and sugar.
3. Bake at 375 for 8 minutes.

So in total, I made 8 of each sandwich cookie and 16 snickerdoodles, or 32 cookies. Unfortunately, I can't eat them *CREY*


IN OTHER NEWS:
My first driving lesson is today, and my first day as MENACE OF THE STREETS. *Vroom vroom!*

FML.

This thing. Was supposed to be an alarm clock. I took it apart so I could put batteries inside AND LO BEHOLD... IT'S JUST A DAMN DECORATIVE BOBBLE-HEAD FIGURE. JDAKLFJLADSDSAFJDLKA:JLAS.....

First Commission: Day 2

Well, progress is progress. I knew that the faces were gonna be the hardest part of the whole thing. Today I was only able to crap out a pair of eyes for each of the faces. *crey*

Did I hear "pictures"?

My mom says she can see the resemblance. I keep seeing Mona Lisa and the fuckin' Seed of Chucky. WHY, CRUEL WORLD?!

Just want to start painting, already! (Aww, look at my babies all lined up in a row! <3) IN OTHER NEWS...

Julie's been knitting again. IN JUNE. I DIE xDDD.

Well, 'tis all for now, folks. Toodles~!

First Commission: Day 1

My first ever commission and it was from my mom. LOL, I die. Alas, every opportunity to bust out paint supplies is an opportunity not to be wasted.

Not having that great of a day....

Maybe it's a bit too early to judge. I still have a good 12 hours left of the day. We'll see.

What have I gotta do!!!

Please keep this young woman and her family in your prayers.

Mellow Monday

There I go with alliterations again xD. Now, I know what you're thinking. "Julie, it's not Monday anymore!" Shut up.

On a fairly recent trip to the Carmel-by-the-sea toy store, I bought a 300 piece jigsaw puzzle that my sister and I could work on. Before I tell you what the puzzle was called, please note--I did not pick it out. *sigh* it was called "Magisches Einhorn" or "Magical Unicorn." -_________-"

ANYWAY, we started off Mellow Monday by finishing the 300-piece jigsaw puzzle. Talk about accomplishment!

I then frittered away the majority of the afternoon (after finishing chores) snuggled up in the couch watching Julia Child. As I was about to fall asleep, I got a call from my cousin-in-law saying that she was stopping by to drop off my graduation present.

Around dinner time she came over with a huge crate box with a big red ribbon on it. I couldn't help but be reminded of A Christmas Story. LOL, I die. But geez, I LOVE MY COUSIN. The contents of the box were as follows:
1. A tin reusable water bottle.
2. Madonna T-shirt
3. A Dress
4. A scarf
5. A towel
6. Flip-flops
7. NEW FLATS.
College survival kit, much? :D
I need to remember to give her a call to thank her later; she spoils me too much D':

Anyway, enough of sounding like a ditsy chick. Moving right along.

I ended the night (or morning?) with the 1919 silent film entitled Broken Blossoms


"His love remains a pure and holy thing."

It's also called "the Yellow Man and the Girl." The main character guy is a Caucasian trying to play a China-man. I'm guessing it was really bright where he was, because he kept squinting his eyes. =_____=" The fuckin' nerve. LOL, but it was still a gorgeous, sweet movie with a bitter ending. I cried like a baby. Loved it.

Well, those were the "un-events" of yesterday...I should go before I spend most of my Tuesday talking about Monday. Toodles~!

I Love This Movie.

"Those who are hardest to love need it the most."
-The Peaceful Warrior

Dear Leslie,

**I couldn't post a comment on your damn blog, so I'm just gonna post it here.

Un reblog
May 2nd, 2011 (03:43 pm)

I try and avoid thinking as long term as possible.

Yeah it’s great to plan ahead and such, and of course the further the better, in theory, but I always keep in mind that I’m an overthinker. I take simple concepts and stretch them out mentally. The more ahead of myself I get the more variables and possibilities I open up that I have to contemplate, which leads to more thinking.

And that’s detrimental to my cool calm exterior.

Keep it short, keep it simple.

^Me in a nutshell. Except maybe the calm exterior part. hehe.

You know what killsss me? My blog has no format or pattern. It's like a total mash up of irrelevant/somewhat relevant things. It's all ovah the place. I guess it really does represent me :/ .....I try. Sometimes I get on this perfectionist shit. Clearly, none of the stuff I write is perfected (to my standards at least) but....I still get this unsettling feeling looking at my posts. It's some half-assed sh**. Then when I try to fluff it up, I'm still like.....this is some verbose bs man. It's like cutting a christmas tree.

Be perfect.................!

Sometimes my insecurities and doubts are so crippling, and I don't want to expose that part of me that acts with uncertainty. Don't wanna front, this is an issue. I'm hesitant to give out too much. I just don't know. I need help ):< like...I choose to who and when to give because I can't consistently be a certain way to everyone. It's a downer. I have a distorted self image. can't. function. So what is the solution to this problem? Look at the dude above I just quoted from. He's smart, he knows himself well and knows what he needs to limit about himself. But what's more applaudable other than taking precautions to not overthink, is to simply not overthink. It's like the best way would be thinking long term in moderation, rather than not thinking long term at all. Because if you're just all *avoid avoid, then you won't be able to think long term when you actually need to, when it's actually beneficial to you. Think about that! It's like when an alchoholic knows not to go to parties to avoid putting himself in risky situations where alchohol is present. Why not just tackle the problem directly and not be an alchoholic period. Is it really out of his control? Or isn't addiction a "choice" like many have said. Because suckily, you won't stop being an achoholic until you can sit with it in front of your face and make yourself not want it. Face the problem, hasn't that always been the right way to deal? Nonetheless, avoidance indicates some type of self awareness. But I guess acknowledgement is not fixation. It's only the first step to fixation. I seem to like making useless distinctions. Gotta cut back on that a bit.


We as human beings have many minds--the over thinker, the passive aggressive, the uncertain, the assertive, and I like how your blog reflects that. I think you're absolutely right in saying that avoiding the mind that you don't like is not the answer, but facing it, getting to know it, finding what's good about it, learning to control it, and putting it on and taking it off like a familiar shirt. AND THINKING IS GOOD; NO DISTINCTION IS USELESS. You inspire me, gurl! Embrace your many minds and be a human being!!

MWAH~! <3

-Julie

Threshold Thursday

Aptly named blog post, even if it is a little cheesy as all alliterations are.

How do I describe graduation? It's like that 16th birthday party you've been planning for months and months and months. You're fussing over your dress, guest lists, food, decorations, and the anticipation and excitement escalates so much that the feeling becomes tangible. The day finally comes and before you know it, it's over. You're 16.
That's how graduation was for me, the ceremony itself *POOF* came and went. It was the end of my high school career and free education. One minute I'm an EV senior, the next minute an EV alumnus. Heinous. But then I remembered something that a sagacious man told me: "Happiness is in the doing, not the done." Sometimes, the destination isn't the thing you remember, but the journey. Our destination was graduation. Our journey was high school. And the journey is all that matters.

SO, HOW 'BOUT SOME PICTURES?! (click to zoom)

My mom made me that garland. She told me that carnations represented victory in Vietnam, given to those who were considered heroes. She said "This is congratulations in advance for your PHd." HURR HURR x__x"

All joking aside, it was an amazing journey. Congratulations class of 2011. We fuckin' made it.

Just Breathe.

"True happiness is not just seeking it for yourself, but finding it in others."
-Julie Dang (LOL I FEEL LIKE A SAGE.)

I'd like to take this moment to point out...

That the senior class of 2011 got out of school on 20/11. GENIUS.

Last Choir Concert

A night of nostalgia, congratulations, and of course, song.

1. Jambo:


2. Con te Partiro (Time To Say Goodbye):


3. Good Night:


4. Praise His Holy Name:


5. Gloria:

Loving perspective.

Julie's not having such a great day. But you know what? It's coo' because everything can be solved with SEX. That is Sleeping well, Eating well, and X-ercise. Haaaa.. gotcha xD

Love,
Sore Tush.

GOLLY...

This is going to get messy.
Let me just give you a summation of how I'm feeling right now. In poetic(?) verse. Why? Because when I drop the F - bomb, I can do so in the name of art. Let's begin.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Ode to Finals by Julie Dang

FUCK YOU.

* * * * * * * * * * * *
I find it funny how test questions manage to SKEW the English language to try to fuck you over in the most life-determining hour or two...fucking ever.

I've always preferred multiple choice questions over short answer, but when the question contradicts itself, bending backwards and flipping around like fuckin' Cirque du Soleil...I mean, come the frick on! There'd be questions that go something like "What is not never untrue, but not always true of not this never not, not?" (you may think I exaggerate, but this is a pretty close depiction to what I read after staying up so late the night before, haaaaaa...cramming.)
No one can fathom the level of FUCKERY....

Matching is my favorite, it's like marrying couples--each number has a soulmate, a life partner. Until Madame Williams came along. She comes in a fucks up the balance, making shit like "some letters can be used twice," or "not all letters will be used." Why? We're not monsters! Why does A get with 1,3 and 4, while G is all by his motherfucking self?

I never liked true or false, because the questions are so sketchy. A question would go something like "are bees black?" then a million other questions sprout in my head like "what kind of bees?" or "Honey bees are also yellow, right?" then, finally, "Why, for fuck's sake?"

*PHEW* I feel one hundred percent better, now. Going to now detach myself from all this anger and head to bed early for calc final MANANA. GOOD NIGHT, WORLD!

Love,
unafraid - of - being - an - unjustified - bitch ;D

Boyfriend's going to my choir concert....

.....

:O

BOYFRIEND'S GOING TO MY CHOIR CONCERT!!! :D :D :D

Wow, I sound like a tit. But dat's coo.'

MY BOYFRIEND'S COMING TO MY FUCKING CHOIR CONCERT.

Long overdue Christmas present

I finally finished the scarf I was knitting for Leslie. It's a terrible shot of it, and I put it on without a mirror =___=".

Anyway, hope you like it, Leslie!!

Love,

Gramma Julie.

At the Brink

I'm about to lose it. I have 2 more chances to bring my grade up in calculus, and for the past week I've been staring at the situation idly, going kamikaze on the potential outcome. I am detrimentally screwed.

*neeeoooooooooooo......BOOOSH* >_>"

Witty Wednesday

Feeling anything but witty today. Wonky, weird, whack, maybe...but those sound enormously cheesy. Then again, to be perfectly honest, most or all alliterations sound cheesy to some degree. I digress.

"Detachment" from an emotion is a concept that I feel is hard to grasp (not as hard to grasp as calculus, otherwise I'd be doing my final project...alas...). Our generation is so stressed, unhappy, bored, depressed. We feel pains that could be fixed simply with a good cry and some reflection, but instead we seek out distraction to fill the void. ( I saw we because I, too, am guilty x___x) Morrie says "detach" from the depression or anger by first attaching yourself to it, getting familiar with it, so its familiarity will allow you to let it go. I know, I was confused, too. :(

Maybe I can think of it this way. When I'm hungry, there is a void in my stomach. Thus, I am compelled to eat. If I were to eat an apple or two, I'd be well filled, my hunger completely satiated. Instead, I choose to eat Hot Cheetos, or the like. And because the chemical flavors are so addicting, I eat a handful, come back hungry 15 minutes later, and eat another handful, and so on...next thing I know, my body is responding with breakouts and weight gain. In the same way, when I'm upset, there's a void. A void that could be easily filled with a few minutes of crying. Instead, I choose to go on youtube or facebook to try to stifle this frustration. I feel better, come back upset 15 minutes later and watch more videos. And so the cycle continues, and gradually along with frustration comes depression, anger, etc. I think that maybe learning to detach is simply recognizing the hot cheetos from the apples...

Blah, thinking is strenuous. Just like apples are hard to chew. But both are good for you, haha.

*edit*
This post was brought to you by my embarrassingly disjunct thoughts >.>

Tangled Tuesday

Feeling sporadically energetic today.

Also inevitably exhausted.

BUT DAT'S COO.'

Today in class we talked about living life in moments. Maybe, I think, I do squander the good moments and shoo away the bad ones. And we wonder why life goes by so fast.
Maybe I should start to embrace these things--the anticipation for the bell to ring, the boredom I sometimes feel,the frustrated late night hours of homework, the peace I feel right before I fall asleep. Good or bad, these seconds, minutes, hours are a part of life. And I guess if we want to "live life the fullest" (as so many people say, but I doubt ever truly believe) we have to accept both sides of the spectrum; the tears as well as the laughter.

Well, my 2 cents for the day...better post this before it's Wednesday and the title of this thing becomes invalid.

Mental Monday

Up until recently, my opinion of myself has been based on the opinions others have of me. My aunt says I'm gaining weight, suddenly I look hideous in everything I wear. My friends say I talk too much, I become inaudible. My sister says I dance like a quack, suddenly I back out of the dance floor. My mom tells me my grades are insufficient and that I'll never make anything out of my life, and I believe her.

If given the chance, would I go back in time to change my ways? Work out more, dance with a smaller level amateur ability, be a better student? Hell no.

A person who wishes to go back in time suffers from man's second deadliest disease--regret. I, however, am diagnosed with the deadliest of all diseases--life. And regrets are something I cannot afford, especially when I only have 65 (give or take) years left to live.

People always tell me that I'm my worst critic. But, if that's true, I could also be my biggest fan. Capiche?

I've been thinking...

Looking over some handouts that I got from the public health department at Santa Clara University. They had the next 13 years of my life gridded out in detail. So this is what it takes to be a damned doctor huh? Kinda sounds like the green mile, if you ask me.

It got me thinking. I have a good 60 or 65 years ahead of me, and it's all been plotted out, year by year, month by month. It's all so sterile and structured. 60-65 years seems short and bleak if I think about it corresponding with this stupid life schedule... fuckin' heinous. Having your life set up for you is like going to the store and buying a puzzle set only to find that it's already been done for you. It's nice and all, but now what am I supposed to do?

I was contemplating today while washing some dishes. Don't ask me why I was washing dishes. My dad made me. I was thinking about that movie A Walk to Remember, and how Mandy Moore was given a set time to live until leukemia took its toll on her. What's so admirable was how freely she lived as a result of it. She was free of all social expectations, free of condescending judgements...she did whatever the hell she wanted. And I think that if I were given only 6 months to live, I would've gotten more done than if I were given an entire lifetime.

But why would I need a reason to live? Why do I need to be afflicted with some godforsaken disease to have an excuse to do what I want?
We're all going to die at some point, so why would we waste our lives away whether we had 6 months or 65 years to live?

Just a thought.

Toodles~

Easter Weekend

Now, I've had the misfortune of going to a 100% Vietnamese community-run church for Holy week mass. First of all, let me just describe this place. It's located smack-dab between some residential areas and a plaza with some gas stations. Across the street is Manila and Carl's Jr. It's probably the worst or best place to put a church, depending on how you look at it. Turns out this place was formerly a flower shop, and was probably not meant to accommodate half of San Jose's Vietnamese Catholic population.

But you know how we viets are...we tried to anyway.

So Easter Eve rolls around, and that's when they all start to fuss about their salvation. My family and I knew that the church was going to be full of people. But we were optimistic. We planned to come early so that we would have a better chance of finding some reasonable parking and seats. Mass started at 6:00, so we come at 5:30.

We ended up having to park in the Carl's Jr. parking lot because it turns out that the other 500 people attending decided to plan ahead too.

Finding seats was even worse. The pews in the church were all full up, so what they did was they got some folding chairs to put up, extending to the back exit of the church. And thanks to our fertile, breeding brothers and sisters, it was still not enough. But there was this group of elderly gentleman sitting in the back row who were part of the procession, and they offered to give us their seats when it was time for them to go. We thanked them sincerely and waited for the procession to start.

5 minutes later.
10 minutes later.
15 freaking minutes later, we still chillin.'

Then we hear the gong and these gentleman get up to join the priest outside of the church. We're about to sit down when this stampede of bodies in my peripheral come in and SA-WOOSH-- within seconds the entire back row was filled up.
My parents were the only ones who got seats in time. (In my defense, I had to worry about my sister, too >.>)

My sister and I go down the row only to find one lonely little chair in the corner. I tell my sister to take the seat, but after all that's happened the little girl still had the nerve to say "no."

But I had a plan. I knew where they kept the extra chairs for big events like these. Surreptitiously, I go around the back into the open shed where they kept a good hundred chairs, grabbed three, and snuck back around inside. As soon as I cross the threshold, I get bombarded by 6 or 7 mothers who clearly--pardon my french--needed to calm the fuck down. "Child, child, be a dear and show me where they keep the chairs. Are there enough for my family? *gestures to 3 kids and husband*" I point in the general direction only to find they were already busy trying to look for it.

Long story short, we endured mass, even when they turned off the lights for the first 15 minutes for the sake of show despite how terrifying it was to be in a dark building with 300 grubby bodies and candle flame (fire hazard?)

It wasn't all bad, though. As fussy as vietnamese families can get, I witnessed a lot of beautiful moments that people had. A mother kissing her baby, a husband embracing his wife...maybe this is what Easter's supposed to be about. Huh. Every year you learn something nice. Happy Easter, y'all!

(I'll be enjoying me some of this....)

SO. Let me just tell you about my day.

When you have 3 exams on the same day, that is a sign that it was mandated by the Pope to be the cruddiest day ever. On that note--calculus is the bane of my existence. However, I fail to see the point of it. Does the school district think that one day I'm going to be frittering away my time calculating the velocity and acceleration of a cow's fart? HA!

I digress. Here's a whirlwind tour of how it went.

Calculus--Praying that the Pope mandated a miracle along with the exam.
Physiology--pretty confident
French-- Parlez-vous I-don't-give-a-swine's-arse?

*sigh* Today is Thursday, tomorrow is Friday, and Saturday comes afterwards but Spring Break is still taking forever to come. What a charming little week this turned out to be.

...and now the beast must slumber. That's all, folks!

Zombeh apocalypse

(My debut? Yeah? Yeah? :D)

*sigh*

Homework is plenty, but I need to rant.

It's one of those days where everything goes wrong-- the sleepless nights begin to catch up to you and you start forgetting everything.YOu forget your gov book somewhere two times in the same day when you have homework due tomorrow. Everything seems to be planned today; the asians and the mexicans spawned and multiplied in the streets of tully and capital as if everyone had battle decorations, an orthodontist appointment and wednesday mass to get dirt on their foreheads and a wafer and a sip of alcohol to keep them sane. Now I've officially insulted, asians, mexicans, and catholics in one go. Heinous.

Scholarship essay is due at 11:59 tonight. Life-determining calc test tomorrow. Calc homework. Gov homework due tomorrow (need to get up early so I can have time to copy off of someone. Physio test tomorrow, along with a morbidly obese study guide I need to finish. French homework re-do plus the homework that's due tomorrow. French quiz tomorrow. What the fuck, world?

It's sad, that for the days I completely snap under the pressure, there's no one to talk to... until I just break down--cry, swear, break a few things, cry some more...and then realize how little water I'm getting, how dark the bags under my eyes are, how cold it is in my room; how much of a mess I am. Then I cry all over again.

It's just one of those days I want to shut down. There's so much input--all this stress from all walks of life--and so little output. It's like I'm taking in all this school and grade point average bullshit like a force-fed cow, and it becomes so much that I can't shit it out. What. The. Fuck. World?