Thursday, April 15, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Pay Attention
From yesterday's discussion section:
Sitting in a discussion section where you didn’t do the reading you’re discussing isn’t easy. There are only two options: 1) Don’t do anything. Pretend to be keenly and actively listening to the opinions of your classmates and GSI, furiously typing on your laptop to gain every juicy word flowing from their mouth. 2) Try and say something vaguely related, related enough to convince the hearer of your completion of the reading. Option 2 is dangerous, as in you could be caught, and made more of a fool than if you hadn’t said anything in the first place. But that’s also where the money is, the participation points.
Today I’m opting for option one, writing this entry whole creening my head up and down the table, making a face of mind interest and even slight fascination. Maybe she can see though it, but even if she can, hopefully she doesn’t care. That can’t be guaranteed though, she’s come this far through and she may just finish through.
Paying attention has been painfully hard lately, I think it's because of the simple fact that, I know even if do pay attention it's not going to do much to change anything. All of the homework for the semester has been turned in, and now it's only the exams that are in the way. The thing about the exams though is, even if you do a horrible or phenomenal job on them, it's not going to do much to change your overall grade. For my first linguistics class LING 240, if the next exam is anything like the last one it's not going to be good, and it's only worth 25%, which in exam terms isn't much.
For my other linguistics class, I'm painfully close to a B+, even an A-. Should I go for that one, or try and get something out of my first linguistics class?
Sitting in a discussion section where you didn’t do the reading you’re discussing isn’t easy. There are only two options: 1) Don’t do anything. Pretend to be keenly and actively listening to the opinions of your classmates and GSI, furiously typing on your laptop to gain every juicy word flowing from their mouth. 2) Try and say something vaguely related, related enough to convince the hearer of your completion of the reading. Option 2 is dangerous, as in you could be caught, and made more of a fool than if you hadn’t said anything in the first place. But that’s also where the money is, the participation points.
Today I’m opting for option one, writing this entry whole creening my head up and down the table, making a face of mind interest and even slight fascination. Maybe she can see though it, but even if she can, hopefully she doesn’t care. That can’t be guaranteed though, she’s come this far through and she may just finish through.
Paying attention has been painfully hard lately, I think it's because of the simple fact that, I know even if do pay attention it's not going to do much to change anything. All of the homework for the semester has been turned in, and now it's only the exams that are in the way. The thing about the exams though is, even if you do a horrible or phenomenal job on them, it's not going to do much to change your overall grade. For my first linguistics class LING 240, if the next exam is anything like the last one it's not going to be good, and it's only worth 25%, which in exam terms isn't much.
For my other linguistics class, I'm painfully close to a B+, even an A-. Should I go for that one, or try and get something out of my first linguistics class?
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Entry Deleted
Yesterday I deleted my Youtube account.
And the moment after I deleted it, I had mixed feelings about whether that was actually a good idea or not. Doing a quick search on Youtube I found preview images of my movies but upon clicking them, it would go to a page where at the top in red it said "this movie has been deleted". On my profile page, it read "this account has been closed." While I knew it would say that, I still felt surprised, and even a little disappointed that everything was gone.
There are some things that I wish I hadn't deleted, like my first recording of "Far Away" with the ukulele, or my Japanese interview with Takeshi. Those I think were memories more than just videos, and know I should have considered that more before I throwing them all out.
When I was a high school, when I tried to paint something I would always get really frustrated about half way though, and had a burning desire to destroy the work. Take a knife to the canvas, or cover it in black paint. Today I still have that compulsion, when things go wrong just to throw it all out and start over. But I found that as long as I didn't give up on it, it would always turn out ok. Sometimes even beautiful. Maybe I should have done the same this time; instead of destroy, just fix.
On the other hand though there's safety, something that I need to seriously consider more. Even today I thought about going through this diary and deleting any references to where I am. There are truly horrible people that exist in the world, and I can't give them any advantage. Can't tempt fate. Some of my older movies also definitely didn't reflect the kind of person I am, and I don't regret having those removed... But I do want to start fresh, writing entries or making movies is something that I really enjoy.
When I go to Japan in a couple of months, I want to be able to record my experiences, whether in the form of a diary of a movie, or even pictures. Moments in life all become memories, and there are some that I know I don't want to lose.
And the moment after I deleted it, I had mixed feelings about whether that was actually a good idea or not. Doing a quick search on Youtube I found preview images of my movies but upon clicking them, it would go to a page where at the top in red it said "this movie has been deleted". On my profile page, it read "this account has been closed." While I knew it would say that, I still felt surprised, and even a little disappointed that everything was gone.
There are some things that I wish I hadn't deleted, like my first recording of "Far Away" with the ukulele, or my Japanese interview with Takeshi. Those I think were memories more than just videos, and know I should have considered that more before I throwing them all out.
When I was a high school, when I tried to paint something I would always get really frustrated about half way though, and had a burning desire to destroy the work. Take a knife to the canvas, or cover it in black paint. Today I still have that compulsion, when things go wrong just to throw it all out and start over. But I found that as long as I didn't give up on it, it would always turn out ok. Sometimes even beautiful. Maybe I should have done the same this time; instead of destroy, just fix.
On the other hand though there's safety, something that I need to seriously consider more. Even today I thought about going through this diary and deleting any references to where I am. There are truly horrible people that exist in the world, and I can't give them any advantage. Can't tempt fate. Some of my older movies also definitely didn't reflect the kind of person I am, and I don't regret having those removed... But I do want to start fresh, writing entries or making movies is something that I really enjoy.
When I go to Japan in a couple of months, I want to be able to record my experiences, whether in the form of a diary of a movie, or even pictures. Moments in life all become memories, and there are some that I know I don't want to lose.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
My Perspective
Perspective changes everything. When there's nothing happening in our lives, nothing truly significant, we get hopelessly lost in our own little worlds. When trivial problems that do occur, they appear as giants, blocking the sun and any hope of survival. For the past few months, my world has been college, its homework, exams, essays, or other similar things. Honestly, I can't even count the number of times I've literally cried over being too busy, having a paper due, or not being prepared for a test.
But these things are nothing. They're drops in an ocean of the real world, and I embarrass myself admitting that they scare me sometimes.
When I was in high school, during my sophomore year I took Algebra II. Algebra II is the first hard math that you take in high school, and I found it to be impossible to succeed. One day my teacher took away my test after I had run out of time and I was dumbfounded. How could anyone be so mean? On the way home on the bus I cried on the bus because I had faced something that I wasn't good at. Like a toddler who had lost a game.
Later that week, my biology lab partner Michael died in a car accident on the icy roads of Michigan not a mile from my home. He was 16. His family would never see him again, and here I had been, crying about a math grade that nobody would ever see or care about. Michael wasn't exactly a friend of mine, but after attending his visitation, seeing the face of youth in a coffin, it changed me. Now I knew what loss really looked like.
Recently, I've come to realize this again, how unimportant my "problems" with school really are. There are much more important things, and it's my wish to be continuously mindful of those.
But these things are nothing. They're drops in an ocean of the real world, and I embarrass myself admitting that they scare me sometimes.
When I was in high school, during my sophomore year I took Algebra II. Algebra II is the first hard math that you take in high school, and I found it to be impossible to succeed. One day my teacher took away my test after I had run out of time and I was dumbfounded. How could anyone be so mean? On the way home on the bus I cried on the bus because I had faced something that I wasn't good at. Like a toddler who had lost a game.
Later that week, my biology lab partner Michael died in a car accident on the icy roads of Michigan not a mile from my home. He was 16. His family would never see him again, and here I had been, crying about a math grade that nobody would ever see or care about. Michael wasn't exactly a friend of mine, but after attending his visitation, seeing the face of youth in a coffin, it changed me. Now I knew what loss really looked like.
Recently, I've come to realize this again, how unimportant my "problems" with school really are. There are much more important things, and it's my wish to be continuously mindful of those.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Decisions Decisions
This morning I was filling out forms and writing checks for my study abroad program. Pretty big checks, and the mother check of 16,950 USD hadn't even been written yet. And as I was checking the boxes on the appropriate forms and scratch blue ink to match the blue font on the checks, a thought came to me: Could I study abroad for just the fall semester, coming back to do the Winter term here.
Logically, are various, pretty significant advantages to the idea:
PROS:
Save around 10,000 dollars. (That's a lot of money)
Security of graduating on time
More relaxed, enjoyable Senior year.
But even as I weighed the advantages in my mind, my heart sank. While I know that going home would be the smart thing to do, something in me was disappointed. Cherry trees in Japan would be blooming in the spring. And I wouldn't see them.
What's the prince of an experience, what the monetary value can be attached to a memory?
CONS:
Miss potential memories, experiences, i.e. good times. (Winter is depressing)
Miss an opportunity to improve my Japanese...etc.
Be unable to visit Takeshi for months.
(Other various emotional reasons)
Through this debate, I know who the sides are: the Romantic and the Realist. The Romantic knows that when she gets to Japan that she'll probably have some difficulties, or course, but truly enjoy her experience, and not want it to end. Even with the summer program seven months wouldn't be enough.
The Realist knows that the smarter thing would be to go home early, for all of the various reasons above; money, time, etc. "You can't always get what you want"
After I get there and experience life for awhile, the answer will become clear to me, at least I think. But I can feel the two, the Romantic and the Realist, fighting within myself already.
Who should I follow?
Logically, are various, pretty significant advantages to the idea:
PROS:
Save around 10,000 dollars. (That's a lot of money)
Security of graduating on time
More relaxed, enjoyable Senior year.
But even as I weighed the advantages in my mind, my heart sank. While I know that going home would be the smart thing to do, something in me was disappointed. Cherry trees in Japan would be blooming in the spring. And I wouldn't see them.
What's the prince of an experience, what the monetary value can be attached to a memory?
CONS:
Miss potential memories, experiences, i.e. good times. (Winter is depressing)
Miss an opportunity to improve my Japanese...etc.
Be unable to visit Takeshi for months.
(Other various emotional reasons)
Through this debate, I know who the sides are: the Romantic and the Realist. The Romantic knows that when she gets to Japan that she'll probably have some difficulties, or course, but truly enjoy her experience, and not want it to end. Even with the summer program seven months wouldn't be enough.
The Realist knows that the smarter thing would be to go home early, for all of the various reasons above; money, time, etc. "You can't always get what you want"
After I get there and experience life for awhile, the answer will become clear to me, at least I think. But I can feel the two, the Romantic and the Realist, fighting within myself already.
Who should I follow?
Sunday, March 14, 2010
3 AM
Right now I feel so far from the person that i feel I should be. Feel so far from me.
Recently my feelings get crushed as spiderwebs do. They're transparent, not even seen by the observer until it's too late; just one touch and the whole thing is ripped down, have to be built up all over again. Truthfully, I hate myself like this. Hate it that an acquaintance, a friend, a boyfriend can say just one thing, not even say, just look, and the whole infrastructure falls to pieces. And when it starts to fall, there's no stopping it.
Through my fair complexion my face, cheeks and nose especially, flush bright red, and I can feel my eyes sting with heat. As if in an effort to stifle any coherent words, the throat tightens and mouth seals completely. Now I am a time bomb, there's going to be a messy explosion, it's just a matter of where. At this time if I'm in private I can let loose and cry myself into a blubbery stupor, but if it's not appropriate, if i have nowhere to hide, all I can do is try to save face until my chance comes. Sometimes I make it all the way until I get past the card-key lock of my dorm. And sometimes I don't, taking refuge behind a bathroom door, inside of a car.
The thing is, I know how I could do the same to others. You pick out a point they're sensitive about to begin with; something they don't have confidence in, and tap it, just enough to hurt. They'd be done.
When I cry I think it's because I'm angry. Angry that I have so much so say and not the voice to carry it; the energy has to go somewhere, and it's filtered into useless tears. Sometimes I wish I was the kind of person that, when challenged took up a stance to fight. But instead I turn my sword on myself.
And relish in the pain.
Recently my feelings get crushed as spiderwebs do. They're transparent, not even seen by the observer until it's too late; just one touch and the whole thing is ripped down, have to be built up all over again. Truthfully, I hate myself like this. Hate it that an acquaintance, a friend, a boyfriend can say just one thing, not even say, just look, and the whole infrastructure falls to pieces. And when it starts to fall, there's no stopping it.
Through my fair complexion my face, cheeks and nose especially, flush bright red, and I can feel my eyes sting with heat. As if in an effort to stifle any coherent words, the throat tightens and mouth seals completely. Now I am a time bomb, there's going to be a messy explosion, it's just a matter of where. At this time if I'm in private I can let loose and cry myself into a blubbery stupor, but if it's not appropriate, if i have nowhere to hide, all I can do is try to save face until my chance comes. Sometimes I make it all the way until I get past the card-key lock of my dorm. And sometimes I don't, taking refuge behind a bathroom door, inside of a car.
The thing is, I know how I could do the same to others. You pick out a point they're sensitive about to begin with; something they don't have confidence in, and tap it, just enough to hurt. They'd be done.
When I cry I think it's because I'm angry. Angry that I have so much so say and not the voice to carry it; the energy has to go somewhere, and it's filtered into useless tears. Sometimes I wish I was the kind of person that, when challenged took up a stance to fight. But instead I turn my sword on myself.
And relish in the pain.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Waiting Game
For the past few days I've had some thoughts that I've wanted to get down in a blog, said to myself "When I get back I'll get this down" and then failed to do so. Maybe three or four times.
With the end of the first half of the semester, homework and midterms have gotten out of hand. At least there's only one more week until Spring Break. Takeshi and I are going first back to my hometown, and then Chicago. Every time in the past when I've gone to Chicago, it's always been a day and a half: Church, sleep, pizza, TV, sleep, breakfast at diner, drive home. Which in and of itself isn't a bad schedule, but this time I think we're going to be there for a little while longer, and get to spend some money while we're at it; it's going to be fun.
On the kitten calendar hanging to my right there's a circled date on March 1st that reads; "Columbia Decision" for the study abroad program I want to attend. March 1st was the date that was posted for the decisions deadline before it was changed to... February 2nd, the day after the initial application deadline. What?
This sucks, now I don't even have a date to look forward to. Part of me wants to email them asking politely when students can expect notifications, and the other part of me thinks I should shut up and not draw any unneeded attention to myself. Overthinking? Perhaps. But since this semester has been less than desirable I'm waiting for any bit of good news that I can get. Looking forward to next year or to any summer opportunities would give me a boost that might get be through the next month and a half of school. Only a month and a half.
With the end of the first half of the semester, homework and midterms have gotten out of hand. At least there's only one more week until Spring Break. Takeshi and I are going first back to my hometown, and then Chicago. Every time in the past when I've gone to Chicago, it's always been a day and a half: Church, sleep, pizza, TV, sleep, breakfast at diner, drive home. Which in and of itself isn't a bad schedule, but this time I think we're going to be there for a little while longer, and get to spend some money while we're at it; it's going to be fun.
On the kitten calendar hanging to my right there's a circled date on March 1st that reads; "Columbia Decision" for the study abroad program I want to attend. March 1st was the date that was posted for the decisions deadline before it was changed to... February 2nd, the day after the initial application deadline. What?
This sucks, now I don't even have a date to look forward to. Part of me wants to email them asking politely when students can expect notifications, and the other part of me thinks I should shut up and not draw any unneeded attention to myself. Overthinking? Perhaps. But since this semester has been less than desirable I'm waiting for any bit of good news that I can get. Looking forward to next year or to any summer opportunities would give me a boost that might get be through the next month and a half of school. Only a month and a half.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Dreaming Days
Recently I've been having more and more dreams about study abroad in Japan. Maybe because I want to find out about my admissions decision to the program.
Two nights ago, I had a dream that I was studying abroad in Japan, but my host family was German, and they could speak German and English, but no Japanese. Since this meant that I wouldn't be able to learn Japanese over the term, after a day with them I desperately tried to contact the head of the program to see if I could be switched to a different family, but I couldn't contact her.
They had a dog and I think a cat; the dog had a large cut around its neck and was festering with insects that they entire area was black. They were friendly, but I remember not wanting to touch them because of the wounds, and being seriously disturbed.
Maybe if I tried harder I could remember more, but it wasn't the most peasant dream and I think I'd rather forget it.
Last night I dreamed I was in Japan again, and Takeshi was walking me to my orientation session or something like that. But he couldn't come with me all the way, he had work, which happened to be on the way, and was dressed in a suit, carrying his jacket. After we parted I walked through a Nintendo store, with a Pokemon section filled with stuffed animals. Even the store attendants were dressed up in "Cosplay"... Some time later I also remember going to a grocery store, trying to find a flower for Valentine's day, but at the register my card didn't work and I knew I didn't want to spend my 1000 Yen that had been given to me previously, that was special.
As part of the orientation there were several steps you had to go through, among them getting a ticket before proceeding to the next stop. However to get the ticket you had to pick from a list of what kind of video games you associated with most. Since I had arrived late, I think I skipped this step, or I did it and then accidentally misplaced my ticket. Some things never change.
Two nights ago, I had a dream that I was studying abroad in Japan, but my host family was German, and they could speak German and English, but no Japanese. Since this meant that I wouldn't be able to learn Japanese over the term, after a day with them I desperately tried to contact the head of the program to see if I could be switched to a different family, but I couldn't contact her.
They had a dog and I think a cat; the dog had a large cut around its neck and was festering with insects that they entire area was black. They were friendly, but I remember not wanting to touch them because of the wounds, and being seriously disturbed.
Maybe if I tried harder I could remember more, but it wasn't the most peasant dream and I think I'd rather forget it.
Last night I dreamed I was in Japan again, and Takeshi was walking me to my orientation session or something like that. But he couldn't come with me all the way, he had work, which happened to be on the way, and was dressed in a suit, carrying his jacket. After we parted I walked through a Nintendo store, with a Pokemon section filled with stuffed animals. Even the store attendants were dressed up in "Cosplay"... Some time later I also remember going to a grocery store, trying to find a flower for Valentine's day, but at the register my card didn't work and I knew I didn't want to spend my 1000 Yen that had been given to me previously, that was special.
As part of the orientation there were several steps you had to go through, among them getting a ticket before proceeding to the next stop. However to get the ticket you had to pick from a list of what kind of video games you associated with most. Since I had arrived late, I think I skipped this step, or I did it and then accidentally misplaced my ticket. Some things never change.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Japanese Class
Every time I go to Japanese class, I go thinking "Maybe I should give it a chance this time" and end up leaving wishing that I had dropped it before the deadline. Now I have to keep it up for the rest of the term. You shouldn't have to leave a class feeling like a dumbass...
For the past couple of months I've been out of practice of writing a blog. Not that I necessarily regret it, I think I've just been too busy. But it feels good to sit down and write again, even if it's just for a little bit. Maybe it would be better though to get up in the morning and right instead of trying to do it in the middle of the day or at night. You can't start out with a bad day, or a great one for that matter, so that would eliminate a lot of the venting that makes up most of this blog.
Now I'm just sitting in front of the computer at East Quad, trying to forget about my sore throat, headache, and upcoming midterms and just unwind, but it's hard. When I relax, I feel guilty for it.
For the past couple of months I've been out of practice of writing a blog. Not that I necessarily regret it, I think I've just been too busy. But it feels good to sit down and write again, even if it's just for a little bit. Maybe it would be better though to get up in the morning and right instead of trying to do it in the middle of the day or at night. You can't start out with a bad day, or a great one for that matter, so that would eliminate a lot of the venting that makes up most of this blog.
Now I'm just sitting in front of the computer at East Quad, trying to forget about my sore throat, headache, and upcoming midterms and just unwind, but it's hard. When I relax, I feel guilty for it.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Gotta Give
Today I was sitting and I wondered for the first time, "How do zippers work?" while staring down at my jacket and trying to image how those little metal links get stuck together so well. That may be some indication as to how exciting my day was.
Things have gotten busier this semester than last. Even though I've finished *almost* all of my applications for Japan next year, I still have a few more to go. One is for a possible internship at Bandai/Namco that I know will be impossible to achieve, and second for the Bridging Scholarship. After a single application is finished and the deadline has passed, another shows up, and so continues the cycle. Even after my study abroad is confirmed, I'm sure that there'll be visa and health insurance forms to fill out, and orientations to attend. At least I'm busy.
A friend of mine recently found out about his acceptance to Tokyo for study abroad next year, and it makes me anxious to discover mine too. On the website it says a "notification deadline" of March 1st, and I know that that means I also wont be recieving anything before March 1st. That means three weeks. At least I know I've been forwarded by Michigan, if that means anything. Maybe all of the students that applied got forwarded though, I wish I knew.
Midterms are coming up, and I have a bad feeling that this year they're going to be a cluster-fuck. I don't like any of my classes and I'm so busy between the eighteen credits, being an officer in JSA and trying to take care of myself that I feel I don't have any control over it all. Somethings gotta give, and I think this semester, it's going to be the grades.
Things have gotten busier this semester than last. Even though I've finished *almost* all of my applications for Japan next year, I still have a few more to go. One is for a possible internship at Bandai/Namco that I know will be impossible to achieve, and second for the Bridging Scholarship. After a single application is finished and the deadline has passed, another shows up, and so continues the cycle. Even after my study abroad is confirmed, I'm sure that there'll be visa and health insurance forms to fill out, and orientations to attend. At least I'm busy.
A friend of mine recently found out about his acceptance to Tokyo for study abroad next year, and it makes me anxious to discover mine too. On the website it says a "notification deadline" of March 1st, and I know that that means I also wont be recieving anything before March 1st. That means three weeks. At least I know I've been forwarded by Michigan, if that means anything. Maybe all of the students that applied got forwarded though, I wish I knew.
Midterms are coming up, and I have a bad feeling that this year they're going to be a cluster-fuck. I don't like any of my classes and I'm so busy between the eighteen credits, being an officer in JSA and trying to take care of myself that I feel I don't have any control over it all. Somethings gotta give, and I think this semester, it's going to be the grades.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Oh Shit
Not doing anything over winter break has come back to bite me.
For my study abroad, there are two scholarships and one more program that I haven't finished the application for. One is due in about ten days, and I really haven't even started yet. That's for the IUC, Princeton's inter-university center for Japanese studies, the intensive program in Yokohama.
Another is for the Boren scholarship, which at the moment I'm working on the application for. Since the program is sponsored by the government, you have to argue how and why your program fits in with United States national security. Awards of the scholarship receieve up to $20,000 to help with the costs. However, there's a catch. Within three years of your graduation date, you have to work for the Feds for a year. That's a glaring detail I failed to notice only until today. My interests really aren't in national security, they're in teaching, but within my essays I have to find a way to spin it so it sounds like there's a relationsip. So much bullshit.
After these if i have to write one more application essay I'm going to go bat-shit crazy. This is too much. After around mid-January, everything (except for one potential scholarship) will have been taken care of, and all I have to do it wait.
Somehow I wish I didn't have to try for all of these scholarships I'm sure I'm not going to receive, but the program's so expensive, there's no choice.
For the Boren scholarship, submitting the online application tomorrow, or Tuesday at the latest will be my best option; if I don't I'm in serious trouble for IUC.
For my study abroad, there are two scholarships and one more program that I haven't finished the application for. One is due in about ten days, and I really haven't even started yet. That's for the IUC, Princeton's inter-university center for Japanese studies, the intensive program in Yokohama.
Another is for the Boren scholarship, which at the moment I'm working on the application for. Since the program is sponsored by the government, you have to argue how and why your program fits in with United States national security. Awards of the scholarship receieve up to $20,000 to help with the costs. However, there's a catch. Within three years of your graduation date, you have to work for the Feds for a year. That's a glaring detail I failed to notice only until today. My interests really aren't in national security, they're in teaching, but within my essays I have to find a way to spin it so it sounds like there's a relationsip. So much bullshit.
After these if i have to write one more application essay I'm going to go bat-shit crazy. This is too much. After around mid-January, everything (except for one potential scholarship) will have been taken care of, and all I have to do it wait.
Somehow I wish I didn't have to try for all of these scholarships I'm sure I'm not going to receive, but the program's so expensive, there's no choice.
For the Boren scholarship, submitting the online application tomorrow, or Tuesday at the latest will be my best option; if I don't I'm in serious trouble for IUC.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
New Years
Facebook is a wonderful tool for social networking, and what I like to call social stalking. Today I saw pictures that were uploaded by some high school friends of a New Year's Party; however, the pictures seemed strangely familiar to the 2009 New Year's party that I was invited to the year before. Same house, same decorations, same people dressing up. Except this time, the banner in the background read "2010." Curious. Guess I didn't get the invite this year.
But while flipping though the pictures of dressed up minors getting smashed on Bacardi, the thing I noticed was, how much I didn't care that I wasn't there.
While I've been at college, I haven't kept in contact with anyone from high school. Not even through Facebook. But I know it's been done intentionally. Should I have wanted to keep those friendships, I would have, but something inside me I think has been telling me that it was never worth it. At Michigan I have wonderful friends, and while sometimes I fail to check in on them as much as I should, in my heart I know that I'm happy with the people who are a part of my life.
Throughout the pictures I saw my old roommate's boyfriend, standing alone in almost every picture. Where was my roommate, his girlfriend for who knows how long? During high school they went everywhere and did everything together, if she was in town she definitely would have been in his arms... *Shock!* Did they break up? Or was she just out of town? Those two had been together throughout all of high school and showed great delight in showing the world how much they were in love. Very kissy kissy. Sometimes it was a little, well, gross.
On Monday I go back to Ann Arbor. Monday couldn't come sooner.
But while flipping though the pictures of dressed up minors getting smashed on Bacardi, the thing I noticed was, how much I didn't care that I wasn't there.
While I've been at college, I haven't kept in contact with anyone from high school. Not even through Facebook. But I know it's been done intentionally. Should I have wanted to keep those friendships, I would have, but something inside me I think has been telling me that it was never worth it. At Michigan I have wonderful friends, and while sometimes I fail to check in on them as much as I should, in my heart I know that I'm happy with the people who are a part of my life.
Throughout the pictures I saw my old roommate's boyfriend, standing alone in almost every picture. Where was my roommate, his girlfriend for who knows how long? During high school they went everywhere and did everything together, if she was in town she definitely would have been in his arms... *Shock!* Did they break up? Or was she just out of town? Those two had been together throughout all of high school and showed great delight in showing the world how much they were in love. Very kissy kissy. Sometimes it was a little, well, gross.
On Monday I go back to Ann Arbor. Monday couldn't come sooner.
Friday, January 1, 2010
American Cheese
For some reason food and I don't get along well sometimes.
After I've had a meal with maybe too much lactose, either ice cream, or cheese, sometimes greasy food will do it too... it comes back to haunt me with a vengeance. Right after I've eaten, my stomach starts to twist and shout, and it's then that I know I'm done for. Done with a capital D, there's nothing that do, except wait it out and swear to eat healthier from here on out.
That's one of the problems I think with American cooking. When we want to make things taste better, we add either salt or cheese, sometimes both, and the sad thing is that it usually works. Pizza, sandwiches, pasta, soups, salads, whatever. "When it doesn't taste good, fix it until it does" seems to be the golden rule. What I always find comical is when people eat salad with iceberg lettuce and then top it with ranch dressing. (You know who you are (w).) You might as well have a small glass of water and a shot glass of ranch dressing, because that's basically what you're eating. Sometimes I'm guilty of the same thing, in the past I've added cream to some soups to make it taste better, actually I even did that to ramen once, and it was really good.
For this year I really don't want to make a resolution, because I have a bad habit of breaking them. Actually, just because I never want to give up NYPD, but I at least want to be more careful about what, exactly it is I'm eating.
After I've had a meal with maybe too much lactose, either ice cream, or cheese, sometimes greasy food will do it too... it comes back to haunt me with a vengeance. Right after I've eaten, my stomach starts to twist and shout, and it's then that I know I'm done for. Done with a capital D, there's nothing that do, except wait it out and swear to eat healthier from here on out.
That's one of the problems I think with American cooking. When we want to make things taste better, we add either salt or cheese, sometimes both, and the sad thing is that it usually works. Pizza, sandwiches, pasta, soups, salads, whatever. "When it doesn't taste good, fix it until it does" seems to be the golden rule. What I always find comical is when people eat salad with iceberg lettuce and then top it with ranch dressing. (You know who you are (w).) You might as well have a small glass of water and a shot glass of ranch dressing, because that's basically what you're eating. Sometimes I'm guilty of the same thing, in the past I've added cream to some soups to make it taste better, actually I even did that to ramen once, and it was really good.
For this year I really don't want to make a resolution, because I have a bad habit of breaking them. Actually, just because I never want to give up NYPD, but I at least want to be more careful about what, exactly it is I'm eating.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Cookie Pain
This morning I woke up at 5:30 in incredible pain My tongue was on fire, or at least that's what it felt like. A few days ago I burned it on coffee, and on top of that I got a head cold. Now the burned parts don't feel like a burn, but like there's no skin separating the nerves from the outside. Pain.
At least this happened over winter break, should this have happened over school, it would have been more painful and I think a lot more embarrassing. Because I really can't talk that well. And what's possibly worse is I really can't eat either. At least eat anything that's good for me. Today I had milk, hot cereal, milk, and spaghetti to eat today, and cookies that were sent express delivery from Japan. (Love, the moment I can talk I'm sending you the biggest "thank you" I can muster, you're the best.) Those cookies were the best fucking cookies you could ever hope to taste in your life. They were shortbread cookies, with various fillings, peanut, chocolate, and lemon. So consequently, there was an internal conflict of whether it was better to avoid the pain and the cookies, or to go for it and suffer with
Naturally I went for it, and I'm glad I did, though perhaps my tongue isn't. But I would do it all over again. Oh how I would do it again. Why can't America make confectioneries like the rest of the world?
Been working on an art project recently, and I had to go and buy some glue today, which cost me a little over twenty dollars. All I wanted was glue but I ended up buying blank cards and varnish too, every time I go to an art supplies store that happens to me. At least I can make beautiful things with it, and then make people happy. That's what it's all for in the end anyway. How lucky I am, to have a talent that can make other people happy.
At least this happened over winter break, should this have happened over school, it would have been more painful and I think a lot more embarrassing. Because I really can't talk that well. And what's possibly worse is I really can't eat either. At least eat anything that's good for me. Today I had milk, hot cereal, milk, and spaghetti to eat today, and cookies that were sent express delivery from Japan. (Love, the moment I can talk I'm sending you the biggest "thank you" I can muster, you're the best.) Those cookies were the best fucking cookies you could ever hope to taste in your life. They were shortbread cookies, with various fillings, peanut, chocolate, and lemon. So consequently, there was an internal conflict of whether it was better to avoid the pain and the cookies, or to go for it and suffer with
Naturally I went for it, and I'm glad I did, though perhaps my tongue isn't. But I would do it all over again. Oh how I would do it again. Why can't America make confectioneries like the rest of the world?
Been working on an art project recently, and I had to go and buy some glue today, which cost me a little over twenty dollars. All I wanted was glue but I ended up buying blank cards and varnish too, every time I go to an art supplies store that happens to me. At least I can make beautiful things with it, and then make people happy. That's what it's all for in the end anyway. How lucky I am, to have a talent that can make other people happy.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Pokemon Trainer
You were in my dream last night. We were at some sort of school for becoming Pokémon trainers. As for the school itself, all I remember was that it looked a lot like my middle school. Except there was a train inside so didn’t take so long to get from one end of the hall to the other. But the train was more like an elevator, except it moved to the side instead of going up and down.
You had an Espeon, I think, and I remember being jealous because I didn’t have a Pokémon, but your Espeon was nice and you let me scratch his ears. We rode the elevator-train thing together, and I noticed you were wearing really weird hat. We were then taking some sort of written test, and I thought it was really hard and I was wondering why we had to be tested on this kind of stuff...
Sometime later I think I went outside and I was talking to you about how badly I think I failed, but it was really beautiful out. We were in the suburbs, night was falling and the sky was a pretty sort of orange. There was an art fair or something going on, and a lot of people were putting their art on their front lawns. There were beautiful white sculptures made out of soap, and glass art that would sparkle blue in the setting sun. Somewhere else a zip line showed up, but I can’t remember its relation to the rest of the story.
You had an Espeon, I think, and I remember being jealous because I didn’t have a Pokémon, but your Espeon was nice and you let me scratch his ears. We rode the elevator-train thing together, and I noticed you were wearing really weird hat. We were then taking some sort of written test, and I thought it was really hard and I was wondering why we had to be tested on this kind of stuff...
Sometime later I think I went outside and I was talking to you about how badly I think I failed, but it was really beautiful out. We were in the suburbs, night was falling and the sky was a pretty sort of orange. There was an art fair or something going on, and a lot of people were putting their art on their front lawns. There were beautiful white sculptures made out of soap, and glass art that would sparkle blue in the setting sun. Somewhere else a zip line showed up, but I can’t remember its relation to the rest of the story.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Dead Horse
Christmas is over, thankfully, and now I only have one more holiday to go until this "Holiday Season is finally done and over with. Of course that would be New Years. Normally, I end up tagging along with my brother to some party that he's been invited to. Last year I actually got invited to a party myself, and while that ended up being a lot of fun, I don't think that I've done enough to keep in touch with people for that sort of thing to happen again. There's still hope though for something last minute. We'll see.
Just a second ago I caught myself checking Facebook for the 20th time today, expecting something new. But the thing is, i never write on people's walls, so I don't know why I would expect a reply to come out of nowhere. From here on out I have to make more of an effort to connect with people, instead of expecting them to come to me, it's a bad habit of mine, but it's an easy one to fall into.
This year's Christmas was one of the worst I've ever had, and I don't say that to be moody or depressing, but it truly was. With my Dad, my grandparents, and my brother, we walked through the motions of what we've done for Christmas for most of my childhood, trying with all our effort to make it work. But it's useless; we're beating a dead horse. Things aren't the same, and they never will be.
Why we work so hard to try and return to the past is beyond me. There will never again be a Christmas like the one I grew up with, and to be honest, while the Christmas Past of my childhood was good, it's time for all of us to move on. Things are different now. Mom and Dad have gotten a divorce, I have a boyfriend, and I'm more independent than I've ever been before.
When we were "doing" Christmas, I couldn't help but think that I am so glad I'm going to be in Japan at this time next year. While I know that it's not good for me, I want to run away far from here. Far from this empty hole of a town. And I think it would be good for both of my parents to do the same.
My rant is done for tonight. One of my goals for the upcoming year is to update my blog more frequently, and this time, about happy things too, I promise. After all, there's more to a "wedding" than drama alone.
Just a second ago I caught myself checking Facebook for the 20th time today, expecting something new. But the thing is, i never write on people's walls, so I don't know why I would expect a reply to come out of nowhere. From here on out I have to make more of an effort to connect with people, instead of expecting them to come to me, it's a bad habit of mine, but it's an easy one to fall into.
This year's Christmas was one of the worst I've ever had, and I don't say that to be moody or depressing, but it truly was. With my Dad, my grandparents, and my brother, we walked through the motions of what we've done for Christmas for most of my childhood, trying with all our effort to make it work. But it's useless; we're beating a dead horse. Things aren't the same, and they never will be.
Why we work so hard to try and return to the past is beyond me. There will never again be a Christmas like the one I grew up with, and to be honest, while the Christmas Past of my childhood was good, it's time for all of us to move on. Things are different now. Mom and Dad have gotten a divorce, I have a boyfriend, and I'm more independent than I've ever been before.
When we were "doing" Christmas, I couldn't help but think that I am so glad I'm going to be in Japan at this time next year. While I know that it's not good for me, I want to run away far from here. Far from this empty hole of a town. And I think it would be good for both of my parents to do the same.
My rant is done for tonight. One of my goals for the upcoming year is to update my blog more frequently, and this time, about happy things too, I promise. After all, there's more to a "wedding" than drama alone.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Home
You can never go home again.
For Thanksgiving I took the train from Ann Arbor to Chicago and spent Thursday much in the same fashion that I had last year, with dinner and a show. We go to a convention hall somewhere in Chicago where they hold this Thanksgiving special of a buffet and a broadway show. Both the show and the food were good, in that aspect I can't at all complain, but Thanksgiving feels so empty now. With my family gone. Well, I can't say gone, most of them are still here for now, but broken.
All I can remember is how the holidays used to be, and the stark constrast of what they're like now as opposed to nefore suprises me every year, despite the fact that by now I should be used to it.
When I was growing up, we always had Thanksgiving at our house. Uncle Jimmy would always show up just a little bit before everyone was just about ready and waiting to eat, having sunglasses but no helmet after coming on his Harley from Chicago to Michigan. Wearing a leather jacket and either a Bears or Bulls shirt, his appearance matched that of the classic "badass", but never acted like one around the family. Being over six feet tall, my head never reached above his chest; he would nearly squeeze the breath out of me whenever he hugged me, saying "Mercy mercy mercy", whatever that meant. When he thought nobody was looking, he would sneak some food to my dog, and as a result he had a friend for life. My Grandpa John would make some sort of joke, and I would laugh until I was pink in the face and gasping for air all over again. Really it was a wonder I got through it all alive.
Both Uncle Jimmy and Grandpa John are dead now, and my mother and father are divorced. There will never be another Thanksgiving with them again.
When I came back from Chicago, I walked into the house, and again my own house suprised me. Most of the furniture was still gone from when my father left, it was dark, and cold, and when I expected Maggie to come, tail wagging and nearly beside herself with excitement, there was nothing. "Oh yeah, she's with Dad..." Where my room used to be, there's now just a plain room.
There is nothing in this town for me anymore, and for a moment, I am happy to know that come next year, I should be a world away. More than ever before, I think I realize that I have to make my own life, and that's starting right now.
My home is gone, and I can never go back.
For Thanksgiving I took the train from Ann Arbor to Chicago and spent Thursday much in the same fashion that I had last year, with dinner and a show. We go to a convention hall somewhere in Chicago where they hold this Thanksgiving special of a buffet and a broadway show. Both the show and the food were good, in that aspect I can't at all complain, but Thanksgiving feels so empty now. With my family gone. Well, I can't say gone, most of them are still here for now, but broken.
All I can remember is how the holidays used to be, and the stark constrast of what they're like now as opposed to nefore suprises me every year, despite the fact that by now I should be used to it.
When I was growing up, we always had Thanksgiving at our house. Uncle Jimmy would always show up just a little bit before everyone was just about ready and waiting to eat, having sunglasses but no helmet after coming on his Harley from Chicago to Michigan. Wearing a leather jacket and either a Bears or Bulls shirt, his appearance matched that of the classic "badass", but never acted like one around the family. Being over six feet tall, my head never reached above his chest; he would nearly squeeze the breath out of me whenever he hugged me, saying "Mercy mercy mercy", whatever that meant. When he thought nobody was looking, he would sneak some food to my dog, and as a result he had a friend for life. My Grandpa John would make some sort of joke, and I would laugh until I was pink in the face and gasping for air all over again. Really it was a wonder I got through it all alive.
Both Uncle Jimmy and Grandpa John are dead now, and my mother and father are divorced. There will never be another Thanksgiving with them again.
When I came back from Chicago, I walked into the house, and again my own house suprised me. Most of the furniture was still gone from when my father left, it was dark, and cold, and when I expected Maggie to come, tail wagging and nearly beside herself with excitement, there was nothing. "Oh yeah, she's with Dad..." Where my room used to be, there's now just a plain room.
There is nothing in this town for me anymore, and for a moment, I am happy to know that come next year, I should be a world away. More than ever before, I think I realize that I have to make my own life, and that's starting right now.
My home is gone, and I can never go back.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Choo Choo
This semester has been a train wreck.
Well, not completely. This semester I've figured out a lot of things I think, and now more than ever I have a direction in life, which I suppose in an accomplishment. But I hate the feeling when you can't seem to keep things under control. There's this terrible sensation that I'm living "paycheck to paycheck" in an academic sort of sense. Since I didn't study for my Chinese quiz today I had to skip class rather than fail. Not a big deal since they throw out three of the lowest or missed quizzes, but I can't keep doing that. Every week I say to myself that "this time, I'm going to be completely prepared" and ever single time I find myself frantically studying the morning of the quiz and barely passing off a respectable grade. And I hate that.
But I don't feel like I'm being lazy. Between conversation partners, applying for study abroad, my tutorship for Japanese, being an officer for JSA, it seems like actually doing the work for my classes is just filler, instead of being first priority. There are some aspects of that that say that's not such a bad thing, but I want a little more balance.
Shit, there's a lab today that's due at 5 that I haven't started yet.
Well, not completely. This semester I've figured out a lot of things I think, and now more than ever I have a direction in life, which I suppose in an accomplishment. But I hate the feeling when you can't seem to keep things under control. There's this terrible sensation that I'm living "paycheck to paycheck" in an academic sort of sense. Since I didn't study for my Chinese quiz today I had to skip class rather than fail. Not a big deal since they throw out three of the lowest or missed quizzes, but I can't keep doing that. Every week I say to myself that "this time, I'm going to be completely prepared" and ever single time I find myself frantically studying the morning of the quiz and barely passing off a respectable grade. And I hate that.
But I don't feel like I'm being lazy. Between conversation partners, applying for study abroad, my tutorship for Japanese, being an officer for JSA, it seems like actually doing the work for my classes is just filler, instead of being first priority. There are some aspects of that that say that's not such a bad thing, but I want a little more balance.
Shit, there's a lab today that's due at 5 that I haven't started yet.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Ketchup
Ugh, my whole... body hurts. This fall I joined an intramural soccer team and on Friday night we had a double-header, two back to back games, and then yesterday I participated in "Field Day" for Japan Student Association and now I can barely move. Maybe as the day goes on I'll get more limber, but even sitting in my plush office chair and typing out this entry is almost painful.
Soccer is a lot of fun, I'm terrible at it, and not much of an asset to the team, but it's fun. Actually i don't think that I've played soccer since gym class in middle school, but luckily for the me the game is pretty straight forward: Run run run run run run run run run pass the ball run run run swear as the other team makes a goal run run pass the ball run run run don't try and shoot pass the ball. As long as you've got that down, you're golden.
Today I was eating brunch in the east quad cafeteria and realized that I depend on ketchup as a staple food. There are so many foods that *require* ketchup including but not limited to:
- Any sort of fried potato.
- Actually almost any American food that's fried.
- Scrambled eggs or anything that contains scrambled eggs, such as a breakfast burrito, etc.
- Ground beef in any form
- Hot dogs, or any related sausage
- Veggie meats in any form
- Macaroni and cheese
Americans need ketchup, it's not a condiment, it's a necessity. Try and eat any of the above foods without ketchup and it's just sort of, disappointing. You try and enjoy it but you can't stop thinking "Damn I wish I had some ketchup" and then your whole meal is ruined. One of the saddest things in the world is in the cafeteria when the big box of Heinz ketchup runs out after you've already gotten your food. And the weird thing is, normally i don't pay much attention to brands, but I can tell if a ketchup is from Heinz or Hunts, and believe me the latter leaves much to be desired.
During my only free day of the week I choose to spend it watching random videos on Youtube instead of getting work done...:B
Soccer is a lot of fun, I'm terrible at it, and not much of an asset to the team, but it's fun. Actually i don't think that I've played soccer since gym class in middle school, but luckily for the me the game is pretty straight forward: Run run run run run run run run run pass the ball run run run swear as the other team makes a goal run run pass the ball run run run don't try and shoot pass the ball. As long as you've got that down, you're golden.
Today I was eating brunch in the east quad cafeteria and realized that I depend on ketchup as a staple food. There are so many foods that *require* ketchup including but not limited to:
- Any sort of fried potato.
- Actually almost any American food that's fried.
- Scrambled eggs or anything that contains scrambled eggs, such as a breakfast burrito, etc.
- Ground beef in any form
- Hot dogs, or any related sausage
- Veggie meats in any form
- Macaroni and cheese
Americans need ketchup, it's not a condiment, it's a necessity. Try and eat any of the above foods without ketchup and it's just sort of, disappointing. You try and enjoy it but you can't stop thinking "Damn I wish I had some ketchup" and then your whole meal is ruined. One of the saddest things in the world is in the cafeteria when the big box of Heinz ketchup runs out after you've already gotten your food. And the weird thing is, normally i don't pay much attention to brands, but I can tell if a ketchup is from Heinz or Hunts, and believe me the latter leaves much to be desired.
During my only free day of the week I choose to spend it watching random videos on Youtube instead of getting work done...:B
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Halloween
Sunday night, but it's not a scary one. This should be a good week, simply because I don't have to do jack shit. Yesterday I went to a party, had too much fun and ended up sleeping in until like 2 o'clock this afternoon. After that I think I got up, took a shower, and then ended up sleeping some more. What a great Halloween.
There is though, one thing that's standing in my way for tomorrow, and that's a 10 page paper for my Creative Writing class. But when it comes to creative writing, to pages really isn't all that bad, I don't think I'll have any trouble with it. There's this story I think I want to write. About a little girl who falls down a well and see's what her life would be like if it was "perfect". The whole "falling down a well" thing has been done several times before, but I really can't think of another way to make the transition. Maybe she could fall asleep outside or something...
Daylight savings time made today seem longer than usual, even though I slept through over half of the day. Today it's November 1st, I can't believe it. Soon it'll be Thanksgiving break, and then I turn 20, and then I get to go home for winter break. Right now it's not even 7, and the sky is pitch dark.
That's winter I guess...
There is though, one thing that's standing in my way for tomorrow, and that's a 10 page paper for my Creative Writing class. But when it comes to creative writing, to pages really isn't all that bad, I don't think I'll have any trouble with it. There's this story I think I want to write. About a little girl who falls down a well and see's what her life would be like if it was "perfect". The whole "falling down a well" thing has been done several times before, but I really can't think of another way to make the transition. Maybe she could fall asleep outside or something...
Daylight savings time made today seem longer than usual, even though I slept through over half of the day. Today it's November 1st, I can't believe it. Soon it'll be Thanksgiving break, and then I turn 20, and then I get to go home for winter break. Right now it's not even 7, and the sky is pitch dark.
That's winter I guess...
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