Dog day Christmas eve

so deck the halls with boughs of holly

I can't believe it is already Christmas Eve. Where does the time go when it flies over our heads and into oblivion? I have been seventeen for over two months now. I have completed my college applications, fallen in and out and back in of infatuation, questioned my morals, and continued to struggle between personal happiness and team duty.

On a lighter note, I am currently at my uncle and aunt's place in Forest Hills. I came up here intending to check on my college application statuses, which has proven only to be a serious stressor.

In any case, being done seems anticlimatic. A lot of things seem that way, actually. For example, my personal deadline of December 15--it went whooshing past with nary a sound. Christmas just isn't the same as it used to be, when I was younger and everything was a mystery and Santa Claus was a divine being.

I need to start saving more money. And also to start articulating my thoughts in the form of words isntead of inner turmoil, which may sound fun, but is not at all. I brought with me two books to indulge in tonight: Wuthering Heights, and the much more light-hearted Geektastic. The latter is an anthology of short stories from self-proclaimed "nerdy" authors, many of whom are apparently secretly obsessed with CosPlay and sci-fi conventions, etcetera etcetera.

This time next year, I'll be home from college. But where will I be coming from? Which campus green, or concrete, will I escape from to my suburban childhood home?

AHHH. it's insane just trying to picture it.

I have always loved predicting the future.

---->



The day my air conditioner, which we had all left for dead years earlier, started working again, I began believing that everything would be okay.

Es muss sein

never kiss a fool and never let a kiss fool you.

I have decided that there are two wonderful sensations in this world, in addition to all the other ones, and one is discovering a familiar habit in a stranger, or discovering the familiar habit of a relative in a friend. The other day, I was at California Pizza Kitchen with three friends. I began to cut my pizza apart into pieces, something I rarely do, but decided to do that day. One of my friends looked over and informed me that his dad did the same thing. It was insignificant and not particularly interesting of an incident, but it reminded me of this phenomenon, where seeing an action can remind you of a person, and suddenly you are not looking at the person performing the action, but at the person the action reminded you of.

The second wonderful sensation is reading a passage that inspires you, in anything, whether it is the back of a bag of chips or in a 350 page novel written by a Czech genius.

I bought two pairs of sunglasses today for just under $9, and that was including tax. I love oversized sunglasses, and I love talking about myself.

10 things I've done/realized/thought about since summer began:

1. I really, really need to force myself to run. However,once I do, I begin to wage a hard, cruel war on my body, pushing it further than it wants to go.

2. I have bad taste in conquests; as in, I go for the ones who make it impossibly frustrating.

3. I really like salsa and Tostitos. And facebook quizzes.

4. I need to feed my liver less processed foods, and alcohol.

5. I am terrified of having to drive with other people near me.

6. I really suck at returning things on time to the library, which is ironic.

7. I love my job. (Except for the working part)

8. Paperback novels make me read faster.

9. I hate ovulation. Gross.

10. Potatoes store best in dark, dry, and well ventilated areas. Just like me.

Brevity is the soul of wit except when you're trying to say I love you

the unbearable weight of unrequited

The ice cream party at work went well today; messy, a few wiseasses, but overall a success. So, while I was browsing through the shelves (something I do often rather than giving my full attention to alphabetizing or sorting..yech) I realized something once and for all. This inescapable truth, this burden (I've been reading Kundera) that has been placed upon my shoulders since, perhaps infancy, is my deep regard for eros, philia, and even agape, the three categories of love that the ancient Greeks developed. I am in love with the idea of love. I fulfill this cliche with my daily thoughts, actions, and personal preferences. I am a lover of ballads, poetry, and off-kilter love stories. I have no aversion to the canon idea of a "love story," the good ole' Hallmark version of cheeseball romance, but I prefer my affairs to be closer to Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist than Romeo and Juliet. I like the fights, the push and pull of an intense, passionate love. I don't like easy. I don't like immediacy. I like the slow, excruciating pang of waiting, of having no idea whether or not your sentiments are returned. Mine are usually thrown into the air, blindly aimed at the person who I have decided is worthy of my affection, and whether or not they land in the right hands is questionable. Perhaps. Or perhaps not. The real question, however, is are they even willing to catch it? In my case, I am always throwing these ribbons of hope towards people who are not even looking. It's like throwing a football towards someone who is completely oblivious to the fact that you are even there, never mind that you had a football that is now hurtling towards his head. You just have to hope that his reflexes are fast enough to catch it, or else that football that contains all of your hopes and dreams and fantasies falls to the floor, and you'll have to go retrieve it to try again later.

I have thrown this football again. Each time I throw my football (I am really very terrible at the actual game--I can neither catch nor throw, I have just about enough coordination to run track, but that's about it...), I hope for the best, crossing my fingers, sometimes squeezing my eyes shut because I just can't look just can't look just can't-- the suspense thrills me. And each time I am waiting, not looking, I turn to my old vices of writing and inhaling the volumes of others' love stories, imaginary and real. I soak the pages of love stories into my skin, absorbing the carefully chosen words into my blood, allowing their meanings to surge through my veins, exhilirating me. This person who I have thrown the ball to, he does not even watch football. He prefers baseball.

Baseball is alien to me. The only bases I am familiar with are the one's that correspond to the anatomy. I have no idea what exactly happens during an inning, nor do I, to be completely honest, really care. Baseball to me is a means of metaphorically speaking; it is not something I take an interest in, because I don't really care for the playing of the sport (seeing as I can neither catch, nor throw, the game is lost on me), and I don't really enjoy watching it either. I suppose to some people it is beautiful, or some version of beautiful.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, though, isn't it?

I also came to the realization that... I think sadness is beautiful. Human devastation is impossible to look away from, and while I personally do not like sadness better than happiness, I have come to notice that a person's tears are somehow more haunting, more beautiful, than that same person's smile. Of course, a smile is beautiful too, in its own way, but a smile does not imprint itself upon the heart, upon the soul, like a freshly shed tear. Sadness is also more intimate. Watching someone cry is much more private than watching someone smile. Sad poetry, sad novels, sad movies, they are all much more impressionable than their content counterparts.

The opening lines of David Cook's song "Come back to Me" haunts me. His voice sounds so wistful, the lyrics are so simple, on the verge of being cliche, yet they resonate through me, going straight through my eardrums and digging beneath my skin. The melody rings in my ears, echoing in my heart. It is the kind of song that makes me feel. I love those songs. I've been listening to it ever since I heard it last night.

And the chorus:
"so i'll let you go
i'll set you free
and when you see
what you need to see
when you find you,
come back to me..."

For some reason, the way he sings this, the way the background music fades away the first time it is heart, it is unbelievably beautiful to me. Just like the sad status updates of those suffering from a similar feeling of ennui; an unshakeable, gripping feeling of ennui.

3x so far, this song has played on repeat.


I am happy. I am happy. I am happy.

I have a family I love.
I have friends I love.
I have shelter.
I have clothing.
I am fed adequate amounts of food.
I am provided with all that I need.
I am employed.

It should be enough.




I am enough.
But I do not feel it.
All that I can feel today, in this moment, is this weight.


The unbearable weight.

you say you need to find yourself.

i feel deeply, inexplicably sad.
i should be happy on all accounts.
i have a family, friends, and a job that is easy and pays decently enough.
i have a roof over my head, clothes on my back,
and still i feel sad.
i feel a void that i can't fill with books or shopping or food or television or even romantic comedies.
i feel a melancholy which reaches around my content and squeezes my heart.


i feel sad. because
...

this is not enough.
"think" is not enough.
i want "know."

EDIT:

I love the summertime. I am enamored by the scent of fresh cut grass, the heady lingering smell of the light sheen of sweat on the body, the subtle combination of chlorine and human skin, the scent that the hair takes on after it has been washed too often with too harsh of a shampoo. I love the quiet, the silence, the uncomfortable feeling of being too hot, the relief of air conditioning, the chill that the air conditioning brings which can only be cured by a light sweater. I love the color of skin after a day at the beach, the warmth that radiates off of the shoulders, the smell of the beach itself.

I love the summer nights, long hours spent doing whatever, staying up until the next morning, simply because there is no reason to wake up. But sometimes I hate it. I hate the nothing because it overcomes my senses and it takes me under into a state of constant purgatory between happiness and despair. I have too much room to think and my thoughts flow in without a dam to control the current. My mind swells with too many things at the same time and I am suddenly in this sea of PATHOS.

And in this sea, I have suddenly forgotten how to swim.

i'm having one of those nights, where i'm not quite sure what to do, and my moo dis all funny, and i have no idea exactly where i'm headed--to depression or towards mania? i've been wandering aimlessly around cyberspace for the past hour and a half, and listening to acoustic versions of rap songs, listening to the tones, the very meaning of the words, change so drastically.

summer - 3 regents....

Junior year is over!
It's kind of scary how fast the time passed by... I mean, the track seasons were excruciating, the tests were overwhelming, the drama was generally low-key, but overall, it happened so fast. In exactly three regents, I will be a senior. That is a scary thought. Not as scary as my report card... It's a nail-biter. The final stretch! But not quite, we're about another 266 days away from that. Anyway, I can't wait for this summer to kick in, and even though I really won't be able to laze around and do nothing, I love me my money and it'll be nice to be able to not have to worry about homework. However, I do have a summer reading list to complete. Speaking of which, i should probably go ahead and finish Invisible Man.

June: Finish exams
July: Complete reading list, find applications, play around with essay topics.

Your view on yourself:

Other people find you very interesting, but you are really hiding your true self. Your friends love you because you are a good listener. They'll probably still love you if you learn to be yourself with them.

The type of girlfriend/boyfriend you are looking for:

You are not looking merely for a girl/boyfriend - you are looking for your life partner. Perhaps you should be more open-minded about who you spend time with. The person you are looking for might hide their charm under their exterior.

Your readiness to commit to a relationship:

You are ready to commit as soon as you meet the right person. And you believe you will pretty much know as soon as you might that person.

The seriousness of your love:

You like to flirt and behave seductively. The opposite sex finds this very attractive, and that's why you'll always have admirers hanging off your arms. But how serious are you about choosing someone to be in a relationship with?

Your views on education

Education is very important in life. You want to study hard and learn as much as you can.

The right job for you:

You're a practical person and will choose a secure job with a steady income. Knowing what you like to do is important. Find a regular job doing just that and you'll be set for life.

How do you view success:

You are afraid of failure and scared to have a go at the career you would like to have in case you don't succeed. Don't give up when you haven't yet even started! Be courageous.

What are you most afraid of:

You are concerned about your image and the way others see you. This means that you try very hard to be accepted by other people. It's time for you to believe in who you are, not what you wear.

Who is your true self:

You are mature, reasonable, honest and give good advice. People ask for your comments on all sorts of different issues. Sometimes you might find yourself in a dilemma when trapped with a problem, which your heart rather than your head needs to solve.

if you're out on your own, feeling lonely and so cold...

The other team canceled the meet yet again. The first cancellation is a hassle. The second? A pain in the ass. It would've been better for a forfeit; more convenient, and also this screws up all of my scheduling plans. I actually cried when I found out it was rescheduled to Friday. That is an extreme symptom of extreme stress, which is terrible. I should not be crying over a track meet, of all things to cry about. AND YET, it made me freak out, and I felt so overwhelmed, and frustrated, and pressured, and worried, and panicky. I am now watching Gilmore Girls season 1 and feeling unhealthy amounts of envy because Rory is smart, goes to private school, and does not run track. Lucky girl. On the bright side, I found out that I qualified for the NMSQT. Hooray! Totally surprising. But great.

Count Down to the APs... Eeek.

Okay, call me a nerd. (Which I suppose I could be classified as, but only by my school's standards...by Stuy I might be considered practically a burnout.) But I'm freaking out.
It is nearly May. That means that I have officially procrastinated to the almost-last-minute... YET AGAIN. So, I should have a plan. I SHOULD have some schedule of review, rather than just improvising or making lists of excuses of why I am not studying, like right now. Speak of the devil, dinner is ready! You can't study during dinner!

I have just been pranked.

I've just fallen for an April Fool's Joke. Gmail bragged about the new AutoPilot feature, which emails back realistic responses based on the user's personal emailing style. Gullible as I am (and also because of the fact I'd forgotten it was April Fool's day 11 minutes ago) I believed it and futilely searched for the AutoPilot setup page. I wanted it to be real, too, because that's an ingeneous idea.

I feel completely overwhelmed by my school workload and my mind is a
messy combination of negative prefixes. I'm constantly whirling in my
abyss of hope and there is a light I can see it; I can almost touch
it, feel it. Just as easy conversation builds its happy feelings on my
frazzled nerves, this gentle wave of anticipation warms my numb
fingers with something warm.

Press day 2009 at adelphi

.lufitnelp eraelbuort rof seitinutroppo eht ,eit siht ni dna thguoht suoituac dna daerd fo laed taerg a si ereht ,egat yranoitisnart siht nI .ecnamor fo knirb eht no sdneirf owt neewteb troppar eht ni ytiligarf a si erehT

To be edited...

Two major things:

1. The purchase and arrival of The Guide to Getting it On, 992 pages of everything anyone could possibly have wanted to know about sex short of having it.

2. My facebook status is no longer bluffing. However, I am. To myself. Unsuccessfully.

My current feelings are beyond explanation, nor do I feel secure enough to reveal such damning facts on the internet. I am unaware of what exactly makes up the nature of my annoyance, but I know that it is something I want to run away from, and also something that is impossible to escape. I have brought this upon myself, and it is entirely my fault. I can only hope that my personality is as pliable as I had always hoped it would be.

chronically lazy.

I stopped my subscription to Teen Vogue a while back, but they sent me an issue yesterday--there was an article on "Fashion Blogs" and it inspired me. Stuff always inspires me to start these short-lived projects that never see the light of day. 

But I do know I definitley definitley have to clean my room. Which I really want to do by the end of Feb break. My clothes from F21 came in the mail yesterday! I love that store. It is the spirit of my closet. 

I've also come to the conclusion that unless I instill some motivation into my veins, I am probably going to bomb bio, which is unacceptable. It is not an option--literally. I have to start taking it seriously, but I can't focus. 

As for other classes--I'm too tired to know what is going on in Spanish, but that's okay, because Senora spends a good thirty minutes talking about things that we don't need to know, or filling the board with extraneous terms. In precalc we're doing factoring. I love factoring--I get a strange satisfaction out of it. And I especially loved cancelling out. I'm so glad I'm done with Math B. 

Parenting is extremely boring. Almost excruciating. I think I might use it as much-needed nap time. 

25 THINGS ABOUT ME.

1. I am addicted to buying books. It's a terrible, expensive habit. I literally (ha, pun) have a stack of books that I have yet to read, and the problem is... I keep buying more. 

2. I am terrible at studying. TERRIBLE. but i'm a good student, and pretty smart, so i make do. 

3. I love Nutella. Nutella = > peanut better, jelly, etc. 

4. I'm such a sucker for sad movies. and books. and epic love stories. I'm a hopeless romantic, basically. Case in point, Penelope is my favorite movie at the moment. 

5. I have no idea what I want to do with my life after school, and it kind of scares me, but I know that I definitely want to be rich because I spend too much money. (Amazon.com is the greatest idea ever, next to Google.) 

6. I miss the fearlessness of my childhood. 

7. It bothers me that my parents can be so stubborn about school or what they believe I should do/not do. But I also realize that me and my mom are really similar and that's kind of scary. 

8. I think everyone is really interesting and worth figuring out, you just have to take the time--that's why I really like psychology. too bad i don't really learn anything in psych class. 

9. I fall in love with songs and listen to them for hours straight. I have really really holistic taste in music. and did i mention I've been forced to do SAT verbal practice forever. 

10. I want to be a hand model. 

11. I didn't have an oven for an entire year and a half so now I bake all the time for no reason and then I eat it all. It's really bad for me. 

12. I'm bilingual, but I don't practice my Chinese enough, and I'd be considered illiterate in China. 

13. I love English and history. Math is my weakest subject. I'm a bad cliche. 

14. I don't want to save the world because it's messed up, but I want to feed starving children.

15. The only reason I'm not competitive is because I hate failing, especially when I try. That's why i don't like track because when I let myself care and don't win, it makes losing harder. 

16. I'm a whole bunch of "could've been"s except I always gave up or stopped taking the lessons or procrastinated and didn't do it. 

17. I love the days when I have both eyelid creases. 

18. I love noncompetitive running, and running on trails. I really like the sound of sneakers hitting pavement. even if that's weird. 

19. I have low tolerance for idiots. You should know how to read by now. 

20. I read dirty books. Self-explanatory. 

21. i've always wanted to have my name written in the sky by a plane. 

22. I love PLANETARIUMS. Especially the spinning stars thing. I think that would be the most awesome place to be proposed to at. 

23. My little sister is definitely going to be taller than me, but I really hope by only a little bit. 

24. I never make exact plans, and even if I did I'd never follow them because spontaneity is my best friend. 

25. As cheesy as it sounds, I really want to fall in love. On the other hand, I'm afraid my expectations are too high because of all of the fluff I've filled my brain with over the years. I don't mind a little grit, though. 

Here at our remote test facility...

Growing up in an Asian household means that we don't normally "celebrate" Superbowl Sunday. Every year before this year, it has been treated just like any other Sunday. At most, my father and I would watch the game. Well, he would watch the game, and I would "watch." This year, my uncle and aunt came over with their adorable dog, the furry creature love of my life. We even picked up 30 wings from KFC, as well as two large pies. They were supposed to be thin crust, and while I appreciate the effort that the pizzeria made (it was a custom order) it came out more soggy than thin. The dough nearly collapsed beneath the generous distribution of sausage, tomato, pepperoni and mushroom. 

As luck would have it, today is also my grandma's birthday. I believe she's seventy-seven now. I love her, she's fabulous. 

Anyway, the game itself was quite remarkable. Let me just say that I have never fully understood football. I always knew what a tackle was, a fumble, and I had a vague grasp of the concept of a 'blitz' and a 'down'. I knew that the object of the game was to get it into the end zone, thereby scoring a touchdown. I knew that touchdowns had different point values, and all of the self-explanatory stuff. I also realized very early on that football is infinitely more interesting than baseball, which is one pastime that I will never appreciate. However, up until this year, I had no idea what the game was actually about. 

(GO STEELERS)

So, with that said, I'm also disappointed in America for not living up to its hedonistic name. I don't think  a nipslip will ever be a threat ever again, because they've only invited very safe, old acts to play during halftime. Don't get me wrong, Bruce Springsteen is great, but he's so far from scandalous. 

In other news, this weekend:

Friday - Went to work. Then, Counties... in which I ran my personal best for the 1500m. (5:26!!) Also, the 4x8 qualified (accidentally) for state quals. No thanks to me, because I am the slowest leg on the team... I don't want to talk about it. Anyway, this means I have another 10 days of track. Errrgjlkadflaer.  I also went to my first cliche sleepover, during which I had some of the most interesting conversations with people I never thought I would have such conversations with. It was fun. 

Saturday - Went to work. Then, felt compelled to be a homebody. I stayed home and baked chocolate chip toffee cookies. They were delicious. And chewy. Yum. I've still got about 1.5 dozen left, I think... I also watched Made of Honor (it was cute) and Wanted (James McAvoy...yummmm I love his nose).

And today I went to work again. I'm also working tomorrow. Damn. (But oh, money... How I spend thee so swiftly). Oh, speaking of. I really hope the boss doesn't think I'm some sort of leper because all my shifts are me working by myself. There's a reasonable explanation for this. One that I have no desire to get into because it would involve a great deal of frustration. 

Recently, I also watched Penelope (which I did not know was Canadian...) the most adorable movie I have ever seen. It was a heaping plate of cheese cum feel-good, but I loved it. And James McAvoy looked delicious. He made me realize that while I'm not certain I am attracted to a "type" of guy, I am definitely attracted a type of nose. It sounds crazy, possibly even obnoxious, but I find that it is also very true. 

Human beings' innate sense of natural instincts has been diluted by the onset of technological advancement and the conveniences invented by great minds both past and present.