The weight that I bear: stream of consciousness

The struggle between two personalities. The inability to open their eyes. This world is our world. You live because you have a destiny. You learn because it is what makes you who you are. You discover because that’s the purpose of life. You realize who you are and who you have become. This burden is a reality. There are few with the same thoughts. It’s a minority.

The weight I bear on my shoulders is a burden that has been passed onto me. I see the conflicting sides. I see it distancing. I see myself walking away. I feel myself losing sight of what is no longer possible. I call and you respond. Alzheimer’s is taking over. Months? Years? A lifetime is a lifetime. Ignore the situation, ignore the pain, bury it so no one will know.

The struggle of identity. I think I know the truth. But perhaps I ask myself, why me? I know it’s questionable. I know it’s visible. I know that the trend is there. How many people will connect the dots? I’m not sure. Only one has known and even though one brain knows the secret tearing inside of me, it’s an indefinite struggle. Maybe when I’m 80, it is acceptance. I can tell another soul this week. But I am too afraid. Too afraid of what will become of me.

I laugh and I joke. Failure, I say. Perhaps so you will all look the other way. No one will notice. People I live with have told me the stereotype’s mission. I fight that stereotype to the core every single day. I know what you all think. I know you think I’m wasting my time. Sometimes, I wonder if I really am. Is it better to be rich and miserable? I don’t know. Someday, I will show you guys that I made the right choice. Maybe that dream will come true. Maybe gender will never be a problem. Maybe race will just be a word of the past. Maybe everyone has the same chance and receive the same respect.

I hear it every day. I’m sorry I’m failing you in this mission: Brady, Amir, Amelia, Uncle. I made it a promise to myself that I would end it. I would speak up every time I hear those derogatory terms. For the past three days, I’ve heard it. It stings my inner core when I don’t return though I even said a speech about it junior year. Gay. Retard. It’s not okay to use them in derogatory matters. I know why it is I cried during Glee when Sue visited her sister. Uncle, Brady, Amir, Amelia. I love you guys. I think of each and every one of you and how you have changed my life.

Race. Gender. Sexuality. Appearance. Weight. Status. Success. Grades. School. Money. Background.

It’s a fight that the minority group fights every day.

This is the weight that I carry on my shoulders every single day. The fight for acceptance. The fight to fit in. The fight to be the “same” when all I want to really be is completely different. Bury and hide those tears. Bury and hide those memories. Bury and hide those problems.

Maybe no one will see. Maybe no one will ask. Maybe no one will care.

Heroism or Fear? It’s fear these days. Constant and Complete Fear.

This is the time to make a change

One of my college friends told me that this break gives her a rush of energy—an energy to really make something out of her life. We all often methodically do things in life that we don’t think about: walk out the door, take a shower, log into the internet, and somehow the day is gone.

I’ve made it a point that this break, for me, is going to be different. And so far, it has been extremely life-changing because I’ve done something new every single day.

I checked out 20 books from the library that range from criminal law and chick flick to Oprah’s biography and historical fiction. I’ve gone to downtown San Jose, drove my dad’s car as he sat next to me in the same time, cooked with my dad for two meals for the first time, ate vegan food, ate and made vegan latkes, took pictures of the gorgeous Cupertino sky, went shopping with my dad, lost my voice for two days, etc.

It’s been a monumental two days and though I’ve slept past 10 a.m. for both days (sorry Dad. Except he found a good way to wake me up. Blast the history channel off my TV at high volume and leave the remote control by the door. Good thinking, Dad). I’m amazed by how different these two weeks have really changed me and I’m amazed at how really monumental this break as a 18-year-old college student really is.

I encourage you to record those wonderful moments: take pictures, blogs, keep receipts, etc.. There is so much waiting for us out there. Take the chance and run with it (:

Country Music

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I grew up in a town where country music, cowboy boots, and summer dresses are the norm. A lot of times when you want to find common interests with other people you meet, a common question is about music preference. I usually expect the same response, “Really? Country?”

It’s not hard to explain why I love country music. Every single country song I’ve listened to tells a story. There is a narrative background, great vocals (not just a bunch of whispering crap and heavy breathing), and so much emotion in every song that it makes me feel like I’m part of the song. I learned in one of my college courses a year ago that if you like country music, it means you are really close to your family and you strongly believe in family unity. I suppose speaking from my own experience that would be a supporting reason as to why I love country music so much.

I’m not afraid to roll down my windows in good old Cupertino blasting Sugarland’s “Stay”,  Taylor Swift’s “Tim McGraw”,  and Kenny Chesney’s “There Goes My Life.”

In Sugarland’s newest album, there is this song titled “Very Last Country Song.”

Here are some of the lyrics:

But if life stayed the way it was
And lovers never fell out of love
If memories didn’t last so long
If nobody did nobody wrong
If we knew what we had before it was gone
If every road led back home
This would be the very last country song

WordPress is being ridic and I can’t seem to embed in the playlist I made for this post.
Here is the playlist link and give country music a listen (: : http://www.playlist.com/playlist/18698286603/standalone

A quick note on Academics

It is 3:04 a.m. and my last final starts in 8 hours. Yes, I know, why am I studying so late? I originally planned out my perfect study schedule but uh unexpected sickness factored in so I lost out on time. I dedicated most of my late Sunday/Monday/Tuesday on Sociology and I am happy to say that I think I totally aced my exam…of  3 in-class essays plus 3 IDs = lots and lots of writing.

I went off on a tangent again because a constant timeline about Ardi and Lucy as well as Aztecs and the Iliad is running through my head. What I love most, out of these past 2 weeks of hell, is realizing how really academic this school is. Coming into this college, I never considered it as really as academic as my fellow classmates portrayed it to be. But with midterms and finals, I’ve realized how much knowledge, integration of memorizing facts in the brain and fluidly writing out in-class essays, and discussing all kinds of life-applicable topics in classes I have learned in this past quarter.

Even now, as of 3:07 a.m., most of my entire suite is up studying for their finals (one lucky suitemate went home today because she finished her last final on Wednesday). 44 students in my MMW class are on the online website and there are suite lights, room lights, and sounds of drawers opening and closing all from my building.

It’s amazing to think of the intellectual stimulation at this college and how much knowledge is flowing through each of our brains. It’s interesting to note that everyone has come from a different background and a different school. Academics is much harder because even if you were pretty high ranked in, for example, a literature class or a history class…you are competing academically with a class full of literature and history majors. So thus everyone has high intellectual levels and may have stronger or equivalent backgrounds in your pursued career field.

As much as I can’t really force feed these facts into my brain, I know I’m going to be happy regardless of what grade I get at the end of this quarter because I tried my best. I was on the phone with my dad and told him how I feel worse in terms of health than I did two days ago and my voice is completely lost. He told me that if I combine the stress levels I’m experiencing as well as lack of sleep, food, and rest, it would be astounding if I actually miraculously got better. I called my mom yesterday  (time difference because she’s in another country) at 5 in the morning as I was prepping for my Sociology final. Just like always, she said the same thing: Don’t stress so much, as long as you tried your best, it’s okay what you get.

I suppose that’s why my parents aren’t like the stereotypical Asian parents and I’m glad for that. They don’t push me to find a way to weasel my way into that “A” but instead I voluntarily feel that I must try my best at everything I accomplish. My friend at UCLA tweeted a few weeks ago that it’s hard to not study when you know that there are people around you who are striving for more and studying harder. I could never imagine myself at a “party” school or a nonacademic school. There’s something about that inner Asian nerd deep inside of me who always want to improve and try her best.

Perhaps I won’t get the perfection I was looking for coming in this quarter. But I’m proud to have accomplished 17 units (2 junior/senior, 2 lower divs, and 1 seminar that was a WASTE OF TIME) and somehow managed my way to the end of my first quarter without any regrets.

It’s 3:15 a.m. and this timeline is calling my name. I’m going to push through these next 4 hours, sleep, and then take my final at 11:30 a.m.

I hope I can do this. I can do this. It’s the last final stretch.

Goodluck on all of your finals and hope you strive to meet your personal best.

xoxo.

Whimsical Week of Worrying Warts: Finals, Term Papers, Emergency Room

To the bed on my right, my dad is snoring loudly. I’m on the bed to his left. In a hotel room. And though my head feels like it has a 1000 elves striking pickaxes into it, I’m feeling kind of woozy (go medications!) and content at the same time. I felt like I was in a stress whirlwind all week and though I have 2-grade-changing-finals on Wed and Thurs, I think having my dad here gives me a sense of security. Like everything I was worrying about has gone away.

Sitting in the Emergency Room by myself, I couldn’t help but imagine how awful it would to have to come to the ER by myself and figure out everything by myself. With my dad by my side, I signed waivers, health forms, and documents because I am “legal” and with my own student health insurance. But I honestly don’t think I could have ever gone to the ER by myself or go through the whole day like today without my parent by my side.

When my dad told the receptionist that he wanted to stand and not sit because he had just driven for 8 straight hours, the lady said “That’s a good parent right there. That’s how you know he loves you.”

And my dad replied, “No. It’s what every parent should do. It’s part of being a parent.”

I almost cried right then and there. I did the whole look-up-at-the-ceiling so my teary eyes wouldn’t be so obvious. I think I failed at hiding my glistening tear-stricken eyes. But, what the receptionist said and what my dad said in return, was a really monumental moment for me. It’s certainly a day I will forever cherish and remember.

In good news, I don’t have strep throat–or at least, they’re not really sure if I have it so they’re sending my tonsil bacteria on a culture to a lab and I’ll know in 72 hours. But I do have this throat virus that is a form of tonsilitis (lovely!) and some other stuff that I can’t really remember because it was kind of too-sciencey for my brain to adapt.

But when I sat for an hour-and-a-half on that really uncomfortable bed wearing a really “breezy” hospital gown (they might as well make you strip naked and wear  just a bib…), all  the memories of volunteering at the Hospital for 7 hours a week started rushing through my head. I remember how fascinated I was by medicine, by science. Watching the doctors run in and out, listening to patients, watching police accompany a medical patient handcuffed to a bed, blood splatters, the underground place where they put dead bodies, and the “hospital” smell really inspired me (back then) to forage into the field of medicine. Except AP Biology and Chemistry Honors confirmed my dislike for science. But I was a science nerd in Shimoguchi’s Biology freshman year. I wanted to be a cancer researcher.

Even today as I was in there, for a split moment, I wondered what it would be like to pursue a career like that. I’m looking into volunteer opportunities on the medical centers/hospital on campus. Though I’m not pursuing a medical career, I’m still dedicated to a life of community service. I’ve volunteered in the san diego community for the past 2+ months and I get a thrill from doing so. I love the memories of the days of Stanford Hospital (600+ hours of service), giving directions, talking to medical workers  (I was offered an internship on the spot by this doctor who was in charge of this department that I can’t remember but it started with an..”a” and I was 14 so I was being stupid and didn’t jump at the offer. If that happened now, I’d immediately take the offer without hesitation), and really just feeling like I can interact with people even if it’s the most miniscule impact of directing them to the Emergency Room.

It’s been a week of firsts. First official-turn-in-your-term-paper-to-the-front-desk-and-watch-it-get-date-and-time-stamped. First college final on this campus. First go-get-free-food-without-shame-from-student-council. First time peeing in a cup (by the way they really should think it through because girls should not pee in a cup. It’s strange and really weird). First week of drinking 2 days of BOBA in a row. First time I stayed in a library for 12 hours to study. First time in an emergency room without my mother.

It has been an interesting day and I have to continue studying. Though, I think I will take the privilege of showering twice in 8 hours. Because I have this shower to myself, it doesn’t have random hair stuck to the wall or the curtail and it’s not shared by 13 other girls. Thank Goodness.

Of course, of course

Note: If this sounds anything like “Negative Nancy” or “Debbie Downer” to you, note that I just went through a couple days of horribleness that only looks worse for the next 5-6 days.

In the middle of my science final (that i stupidly didn’t realize was Friday until 48 hours before the exam), I started to feel really dizzy and my throat started to feel scratchy. I thought, are you serious, not now, not now, I know this stuff. I think I did okay but I was disappointed when I was on the bus ride to Starbucks (I went to buy my secret sister/secret santa gift and treated myself to a grande vanilla latte) as I reread my exam (we get to keep our exams) and I noticed I got 4 questions wrong.  But, I need basically a 40-50% on this final to pass my class (I’m taking it Pass/No Pass) so not that big of a worry as of right now.

I hit a fever last night at like 1 a.m. (I went to sleep at 8 p.m. because I felt really sick) and was like omgpleasedon’ttellmeIamsick.

After sleeping for like 13 hours or so, I’m feeling much better. And my dad is coming to bring me to a doctor and get some antibiotics so I won’t spread Strep Throat (oh yeah, that’s what I have, I think) and that I will get better before my two finals.

The only thing I really learned in cognitive science this quarter?

Don’t get stressed

If you are stressed, you kill brain cells

So wonderful.

Happy Finals everyone!

I’m dying of stress zits

Stressed, freaking out (just found out my final is THIS friday…in 2 days…not NEXT friday…I’m so stupid. Long story cut short: don’t get a swine flu vaccine, faint in the class lecture in which the professor says the final is moved up a week) and honestly horrible few days. I’m in the middle of my Chinese 10-page essay (I wrote 6 pages on Saturday and Sunday, thank goodness for writing ahead of time) and I’m sitting in the library.

I know my typing is annoying the crap out of everyone in the library because it sounds like massive bullets. Sorry, I’m a fast typer library patrons! But in this cubicle desk that I am in, on my left written in pen and pencil by different students are these notes:

“this note is fleeting human contact, Both of us lost, but ofr a moment we’re lost together, I wonder who you are”

“Help yourself, love yourself =) “

“Deliver nay soul that I may lose control and surrender my heart, that I may start. To see how God, my savior, can guide me forever, as my Northern Star”

“crying blood, bleeding tears”

“Damn…sorry to hear that”

“Ask it shall be given. Seek, you shall find. Knock, it shall be given.”

All in different handwriting. Fascinating. If only a wall of secrets got started in this library…perhaps I will find out some other time.

Let’s laugh at my crap monday

Today has been honestly the weirdest and loopiest day of my life. As you could read by my last post, I woke up at 4:30 a.m. and really had to pee. I ran to the bathroom down the hall because it’s really dark and creepy at night. Turns out my suitemates had just gone into their rooms like 3 minutes before I woke up. Whoops.

I really wanted a chicken quesadilla and went to eat a disgusting breakfast of an omelette. I watched the janitor clean up ERC’s green and I kind of wanted to fall back to sleep at 8 a.m. but couldn’t.

I went to my 11 a.m. discussion class 20 minutes early so I decided to grab a drink at Starbucks. I ordered a hot chocolate but because it’s really hot down here I decided to get it iced. I was told by the barista that hot chocolate is HOT for a reason. After my insistence she added ice to it even though she had to melt the chocolate for like 3 minutes. Whoops. Turns out I basically ordered chocolate milk without realizing it.

I didn’t want to sit down on the side benches because they looked kind of dirty. I sat on a bench. Two splinters went into my butt. I was wearing shorts. Then I look down into my shirt and I see a four winged creature called a fly that flew into my shirt. Then it struggles for about ten seconds and dies. In my bra.

So I get up and I’m like picking at my butt splinter but it looks like I’m pulling a wedgie. At the same time I’m flicking the inside of my shirt to get the bug out. I look up and I see this really gorgeous guy stare at me.

Then I go to class and feel like crashing afterward. I don’t go to my 3 p.m. class because I fell asleep at 2:30 p.m.

I now have 2 term papers that are due tomorrow and after telling my brother the concept behind my creative writing paper that is 8 pages long, he thinks it’s a bad idea.

Is this a FML life day? I think so.

Stream of consciousness

Got back at 6:30 p.m. Strangely nice to be on campus. Got really hungry for Cafe V food. Unpacked and did nothing for 2 hours. Studied. Watched Aztec video. Fell asleep halfway through. Woke up at 12:30 a.m. with my laptop on my stomach. Went back to sleep. Quiz on MMW today. Fun. Woke up at 4:30 a.m. Can’t go back to sleep. Need to pee. Desperately. Someone turned off the lights in the suite. It’s dark and creepy. Bathroom is far. It’s cold. 50 degrees. That’s warm on the East Coast.

I really want a quesdilla. I also want some coke. Horrible college diets. At least I’m not eating Ben and Jerrys. Hm. That actually sounds kind of good. No, I will not cave to ice cream. Well, not for now. It’s dark outside. I don’t hear any cars. One car passed 20 minutes ago. Strange. Quiet. I like it here though.

Everyone is asleep. Or cramming. Oh a car just passed by. I need to finalize these two term papers, write 2 extra credit papers, and I have an essay on my cog sci final. I’m going to bomb that final. It’s the least important out of my 3 finals. Thank gosh it’s a pass/no pass class. Technically I need a D on my Final to pass the class.

I miss my parents but I don’t miss my hometown at all. I need to go to the study abroad offices later. Australia and London, please be kind. I also need to turn in some apps. I fail at productivity in this room. I need to sit in airport for 3 hours in order to finish work.

Yesterday I got to the airport at 11:45. Flight left at 2:50. Got to San Diego at 4:00 p.m. Waited for a shuttle until 5: 30 p.m. I’m getting better at traveling. Funny thing is, three months ago I never would have imagined myself getting on a plane by myself. Oh, how much I have grown. Sh, don’t snicker. I need to pee. And it’s dark and creepy.

Going “home”

After slightly dying from my swine flu vaccine shot, I moved my flight a day early and silently returned back to Cupertino. Only a few of my friends knew that I got home early and I visited my high school on Wednesday. Just 10 minutes onto campus and after a not-so-lovely-transaction-in-the-office I remembered how excited I was to graduate.

It’s strange but after going “home” as in Cupertino, all I really wanted to do was snuggle back in to my 100-square-feet of a single room back in the dorms. I finished an app, 70 pages of reading, and a term paper but I have honestly so much more to do.

Oddly enough, returning back to my hometown (it’s weird saying that) I kind of realized how much I have changed in the past 2 months. I learned a lot of who I have become and how I’m actually really proud of what I’m doing in life and where I am. I have a great group of friends, I actually like learning and going to classes, and I feel like I’m complacent with my life.

Certainly there are stereotypes of what college students do and what they should have “fun” with but I am certainly not that college student. It’s not that it’s not possible—most people I meet think I’m a sorority girl….go figure with that one. I realized that I’ve become much more accepting and more of a no bs kind of person. Do whatever you want to do as long as you don’t affect me. Whatever works.

My schedule is certainly busy with organizations, difficult classes, and side hobbies and I know I’m getting myself into a stress mess next quarter with even more classes (but I think they’ll be much easier). I want to be that kind of person who looks back with my grandchildren and tell them about what I did, what I wanted to do, how I pursued my dreams, and why I don’t regret anything I have done.

People change over time. Every single person I know from those seniors freaking out about UC apps (don’t worry!) and private school apps to the other college students that have returned home for break. Even if we come from the same place and even go to the same college, we now all lead very different lifestyles.

I have 1 more term paper to write and about 100 pages of reading. Let’s hope I don’t get stuck with other flight passengers who think they should use my armrest and invade my personal bubble because I’m smaller than they are. The lovely thing about southwest is that you get to pick your seat. The horrible thing about Southwest is that people get to pick their seats. Hence, instead of sitting with two large adults, they target the not-so-large people.

PS: e-mail me your home address. Let’s be postcard friends (: