red shoes, red skillet

I WATCHED THE DARK KNIGHT LAST NIGHT.

BEST. FILM. EVER.

LOLOLOLOL I’M SO GLAD I WATCHED IT AT SYRACUSE BECAUSE MY BROTHER TELLS ME THAT EVERYTHING IS SOLD OUT IN NYC BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! SIXTEEN OF US TOOK THE BUS TO CAROUSEL MALL…WE GOT THERE AROUND 3, AND MADE A BEELINE FOR THE THEATER. WE GOT ON LINE, AND BOUGHT TICKETS FOR THE 8:00 SHOWING.

IT WAS THAT EASY, GUYS.

THEN LATER, WE GOT ON THE BATMAN LINE IN FRONT OF THE THEATER AROUND 6:30, STOOD IN IT UNTIL 7:45 ISH, AND THEN RAN INTO THE THEATER AND NABBED TWO ROWS HIGH UP AND SMACK IN THE MIDDLE.

BEST SEATS IN THE HOUSE.

AND THEN WE WATCHED IT. THE TRAILERS WERE NOTHING SPECIAL (DAMN I WAS HOPING FOR TWILIGHT’S TRAILER) BUT THE MOVIE. OH MY GOD.

I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY EXCEPT “GO WATCH IT.”

GO WATCH IT NOW.

oh right!

We watched the 8:00, and by the time we got out, the rest of the mall was closed and dark, so we walked through it to get out, still yelling and reveling in the film. Then we called car service (the buses had stopped running about a half hour before) and called a van and two taxis for sixteen people.

The van got here first, with the taxis ten minutes away. All the smaller skinnier people piled in first, but after some quick thinking and shot of spontaneous fun, we squished ELEVEN of us into the minivan. The driver was awesome about it and let all of us in his van. We had one hell of a ride home, taking pictures, talking about gambling (the casino is driving distance away, and you only have to be 18), and generally having fun. We passed by cop cars and all of us had to duck LMAO.

This was the best night at Syracuse ever. Thank you everyone.

And Heath Ledger was amazing. AMAZING.

I’m a funny person. Two people told me that I was funny (no, not funny-looking) today! i’m really starting to believe that I’m a funny person–someone who can make you laugh and say funny things and be witty. Wow, I’m proud of myself. I guess all the reading and exposure to pop culture and stuff helped me be a funny person. even if it sarcastic humor, I’m still funny. I’m happy that I’m funny, it’s much better than being called pretty, because if you’re pretty and have nothing to say, no one’s gonna care. If you’re plain but funny, people are gonna care about what you say.

Charismatic authority, anyone? BWHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Since that last furious entry, I’ve calmed down. I went to sleep without doing my paper and woke up early to try and smash one together. I ended up with two paragraphs and an outline. During the break in writing class, we all talked about it and I realized that everyone else was miffed, to a degree. They thought it was ridiculous, to expect a three-page draft on a subject we only chose…tha same day! So a bunch of them had nothing, which was fair, and I’m pretty sure some of us had something written. But oh god, it was horrible. I’m glad my classmates and I agreed that the three-page draft was ridiculous.

Actually, we have a four-page draft due tomorrow…ridiculous. It’s practical, considering the time limits we have, but SERIOUSLY! I can’t help but think it’s ridiculous! Anyway, I’ll suck it up and write th difficult parts since I sort of planned out the essay and wrote my intro already.

We got our Studies handed back today and I got a 90–a 4.5 for each essay. I’m glad my teacher saw that my summary essay was the strongest, since I had the most difficulty with that one. I’m actually really proud of it–every time I read it, all the words and sentences just feel right. My response essay was good, also, because I wrote it all in one shot. I think I did well on that one, voice-wise, because I had the feeling of the summary left over. As for the third one, which I think should have brought my grade down, I wrote it in fifteen minutes because my paper was already late. I like that one the least because of both the question and what I wrote.

It’s 5:30 now and I guess I should start writing my essay for real now.

I’m excited for tomorrow–seminar classes have been stopped so we can all have individual meetings with our teacher. Now I’ll finally have time to do my precious, very very very important math homework.

It’s ridiculous how math is the most important class to me, but I’m forced to do writing homework every day. Bless my math teacher’s heart for not collecting homework every day.

People’s birthdays are coming up and I’m excited!

“The best cure for anger is time.”

I’ve paraphrased this quote, but you get the gist. And it’s perfectly true, because I feel silly about my rant yesterday.

I am disgusted with college right now. Because of how hormonal I am, I am utterly disgusted with college. I am disgusted with my writing class and disgusted at how an entire semester has to be condensed into six weeks. I am disgusted at my roommate’s phone conversation right now. I am disgusted by myself for not checking my writing homework as soon as I got back to the dorm. But I am disgusted at the amount of work that was assigned in one day. I am disgusted enough to stop and write this entry about how disgusted I am.

This is going to be one hell of week for me and everyone around me because hell hath no fury like a woman on her period.

I never want to do this again, this whole summerstart/summer classes shebang. It is disgusting.

As always, I’m posting here because I’m procrastinating. This time, it’s these essays for writing that are due by 12 today. Ha. Well, it’s 9:47 right now, I’ll write until 10 and then I’ll get working. Now that I think about it, maybe I go blog before I write because I need to stretch my writing legs.

It’s 9, almost 10, in the morning. If I were home and not going to work or out, I would still be in bed. Thinking about how early it is and when I woke up led me to make this post. Since I’ve started classes here, I’ve changed and haven’t even realized it.

Every morning, I automatically wake up around 6:30. I think all those years of rising early for Tech has finally become innate, just when I don’t need it! See, my classes start at 10, so I really shouldn’t be awake until at least 8:30. But I don’t mind waking up so early, I always fall back asleep and wake up on time. This is glorious, since I don’t wake up so early out of insomnia or noise.

My eyes just open and I just…wake up. And I’m not the least bit tired or groggy! I think the college air is doing me good. I really hope this keeps up in the fall.

The Fall. As a term, “the fall” is used very often, and to refer to when we come back in late August for real. It’s kind of a scary term. We always hear about “the fall” and how it’s going to be drastically different from the bubble-esque enviornment we’re in right now.

9:56. I didn’t realize the way college has changed me until just now. Some things, like procrastination, obviously haven’t changed–yet. I’ve been eating healthier, having fruit at every meal and drinking lots of water and eating a good variety of food. I should stop eating so many carbs, though. Carbs are simple sugars and can cause cavities–even in-between teeth ones! Gosh, I love my dentist, I learned so much from just one visit. Anyway, I’ve been eating pasta a lot and I’m not sure if it’s so good for me. My jeans were tight around the waistband yesterday…I should go to the gym or do crunches in my room.

9:59. I’m going to go now, and write up my paper. After I hand it in, I’ll go eat or something and maybe watch movies if I can find some.

I really want to watch Camp Rock, I miss Disney Channel. Anybody know where I can watch it online?

Have a good weekend!

I haven’t written in a while. (Here we go again!) I think I almost always write when I have a big something-or-other to do and I don’t want to do it.

I used to be a good writer. I was a creative writer before high school. I wrote well and easily, and was always lauded by my teachers for my work. I thought I was a talented writer, that my sense of the English language is almost innate–I hear and see things in writing that no one else does.

Now I just think I’m crazy.

My Writing 105 class is almost a struggle because I haven’t done so much analytical writing in a long time. Senior year, I had Short Story for English class and while it was enjoyable, we didn’t have a lot of writing assignments. So I’m rusty right now. My writing “skills” have been reduced to how I write this blog. I write in a stream-of-consciousness style, something Mr. Avery pointed out to me in junior year. It’s not a good thing when you’re supposed to be writing a research paper.

But I’ve come to embrace it and I guess it is who I am. My professor here, Chris, told me that everyone has their own unique style of writing, disciplined or not.

Back to talent. I think I “lost” a lot of my ability to write well when I started high school. That, or I have always written well but was too stubborn and stuck to my high horse to learn how to write even better.

I can respond to text very well–I can relate it to other texts and issues.

But I can’t write analytically without taking it apart. I can’t really summarize well. I can’t write a formal paper. It’s not me. It’s hard to write in third person now because most of the time–how do I express my views without expressing my views?

I hate not being able to write well. Things used to just flow out from me onto the paper! I don’t understand the stoppage! Do I have to clean my pipes, get a new filter?

I need to get a new filter. I have to learn how to write properly. A teacher also told me, not too long ago, that my writing reads like a magazine article. I was slightly offended, since I had Seventeen in mind.

It’s ten past nine and I have almost nothing for the drafts of my studies.

I’ll continue on about talent later, because I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately.

I haven’t written here in a while. Hahahah, that’s almost always what I write here every few entries, and always what I write in my paper journal. I’m currently at SummerStart in Syracuse, and it’s good here. I’m not having a total blast, but this isn’t exactly camp. I take two classes and a seminar, and with all the walking I do and the homework I have, there’s barely time to have decent fun. I am, however, really looking forward to going to the Carousel Center mall this weekend and immersing myself in the Great American Pastime: shopping.

I’ve met some nice people here, and my teachers are all nice people. My classes seem easy but are dense–each is a semester’s worth of material compacted into six weeks! The workload is definitely heavier, even with the six weeks excuse. I’ve also been procrastinating and going to bed late, but somehow, I’ve been waking up early.

I’ve been waking up without any alarm clock help, around 6:30 in the morning. I think it’s because I’ve become so used to rising at 6:30 that now I naturally do it. But I shouldnt have to, because my classes start at 10! I don’t mind, though, I get a good amount of sleep here.

I’m actually procrastinating right now; I stopped typing up my Writing 105 homework to blog a little…I’m supposed to be reviewing a Beijing Olympics website and I can’t seem to talk about anything but colors and color schemes.

There’s a board game night/event going on tonight at 9 in the downstairs lounge, but I doubt I can make it, even though I know I should and want to socialize.

My math class! This is the most important class of my life and so far, I’ve done well. We had a very simple, one-question quiz today, which I aced because it was a homework question from two nights ago. The class is Probability & Statistics, and right now we’re learning terms and reviewing some basic things like graphs and charts and the 3 Ms. I’ve been doing well, taking notes and paying attention. I can’t help falling asleep though, but my teacher (a Master’s or PhD student here, I forget which) has a heavy Chinese accent and teaches in a boringly straightforward way. However, I chewed gum throughout the entire class and stayed awake. I guess I have to invest in some gum now…I’ll think of it as an investment in my future. HA

It’s just past 7. I’m going to go and finish my homework, then I’ll head out to Kimmel or Bird Library (gosh I love name-dropping campus buildings, I feel so smart!) to print out my homework and then I’ll shower, and finish The Joy Luck Club.

I’m really happy to finally own my own copy of it. I first read it in like, sixth grade and I’ve reread it a million times since. It’s a must-read, not only for Asian women, but for all women. The mother-daughter relationships described here are ao moving and startlingly familiar, and Amy Tan writes so well, I can’t imagine living life without this book. And I love my large copy of it–the ones I used to read were inches thick with small font and had to be held open by two hands. This one is large, soft, and floppy, and falls open simply and stays open patiently.

By the way, I am not crazy.

Aiya, I’ve dawdled enough.

But one more thing!

I’ve been using more “intelligent” vocabulary lately. This morning, in writing class, I used “bevy” and like, three other SAT-esque words in the space of ten minutes. I’m really turning collegiate, huh?

CATCH Y’ALL LATER!

Today was the last full day of classes. Well, not even, because classes were cut short for finals.

I would write a goodbye post and reflect on my four years at Tech, but I’ll just say that I have become a much better, fuller person. I’ve exploded into a worldly, loved, person who embraces her biculturalism. I’ve become obsessed with music and movies, and I have friends I really love.

In fewer words, I’ve grown up.

I’ve had two big blog-worthy topic brewing for a few days now. Originally, I was going to write about trust, but I’m going to write about parents instead–and not because Taniel just wrote about trust.

So, parents. Over the past few years, I’ve come to realize that I’m a lot like  my mom, and only recently did I really realize how similar I am to both parents. It started when I was reading my yearbook messages (thanks guys <3) and I wondered where I developed my personality. I thought about my bad qualities and characteristics, then thought about which ones came from my parents. Up until a few days ago, I thought a persona’s personality was almost entirely their own, shaped by unique experiences and feelings. Now, I’m not so sure. Is personality inherited? I read in a textbook (I used to read my aunt’s old high school textbooks) that people in the 1800s thought personality was inherited, and that shyness and modesty was inherited.

I would like to think that my personality, or at least a great part of it, is my own. But the more I think about my characteristics and compare to them to those of my parents, the more I see how we’re alike. Maybe characteristics aren’t inherited but rubbed off. That makes me feel better. After living with my parents for fourteen years, or even spending time with friends, habits and quirks definitely rub off. I read somewhere recently that when people have a conversation or interact, they tend to imitate (almost unconsciously) the actions of each other. For example, if you were speaking to someone and they folded their arms, you would follow suit shortly after, to create a more comfortable, similar atmosphere. I noticed this when I was talking to Alice recently–she pushed her hair back, and I did the same a few seconds later without even thinking. Ha! This is probably why good friends seem so similar or seem to act the same way. Alice noticed that my cousin Annie and I speak the same way (pitch-wise), which I could agree with since Annie and I have lived together since forever. Okay, gotta get back on track.

My characteristics. I’ll start with the bad ones because those are the ones I definitely share with my parents. I have my mother’s temper. She can be so calm and level-headed in certain situations, but she can also get angry at the drop of a hat. I’ve had people tell me how calm I am, and I guess I have to agree. My mother and I have undying patience when the situation calls for it. And as for the anger? All I can say is that we’re quick to anger I’m almost ashamed of how quickly I get angry and how angry I get.

On a side note, I’m not so sure I should keep going with this dissection of character. You’ll come to know all my bad qualities.

Ugh, of course I’ll go on. It’s 500+ words now, I can’t just STOP.

Here’s a big one: my mother repeats herself. No, not in an OCD-way. I suspect she repeats herself because it reaffirms her opinion and because she’s found a new, better way of saying it. If my mother told me something couldn’t be done, she would tell me twice in a row, and probably three more times after a few minutes. It’s insane. It drives me insane, my brother insane, and now my father insane. He never used to notice until I pointed it out. Anyway, I started noticing this in myself last summer. I would be at a family party and say something twice to a cousin. The repetition would come naturally. And I’ve noticed it when speaking to friends.

I, too, repeat myself to affirm my opinion. and especially if I think of a better way to say it. It’s ridiculous because I hate when my mother does it and would hate if I did it, too. In television series, the daughters are always afraid to become or slow to realize how they’ve become their mothers. I would love to be my mother with certain things, but all her unsavory characteristics rubbed off.

I should start writing about positive things about my mom, because it’s 700 words now and I still have to talk about my dad. You can stop reading if you want, this blog entry is really for me. And I type/write in a stream of consciousness so I rarely ever edit posts like this.

My mom loves shopping, cooking, talking, and being the center of attention.

I like being the center of attention (bless you, who doesn’t?), talking, cooking, and shopping.

My mom’s also dedicated to her job and her patients always end up liking her a lot (she’s a home health aide). I think my mom and I have different personalities for home and work, because I have a wonderful personality and work ethic outside of home, just like her (all glowy and motherly and kind). But we’re incendiary, inflammatory creatures when we’re home. Actually, I think we both thrive in a people-rich enviornment. My mother is bright-eyed and charming when she’s entertaining, and I like to think that I’m bright-eyed and charming when I’m with people.

Wow, my mom and I are so alike. I can probably go on about this and examine every facet of her and myself and see our similarities, but I have to talk about my dad.

My dad is probably where I get my sense of humor from. He’s come up with some famous lines here and there, and he can make some urrrgly funny faces. Well, I’m not surprised about the faces thing–I look like my dad and my brother looks like my mom.

Anyway, my dad is the more intellectual one of the pair. He reads a newspaper every day, and a book once in a while. He enjoys old films and is decent, if not good, at every sport I’ve tried to play with him (my cousins and I were playing volleyball and he comes out of nowhere with bumping and setting! It’s like communist China taught all the kids all the sports, knowing Olympic-sized talent was bound to pop up somewhere!) My dad also loves the outdoors and the ocean, just like me. I love reading and old films, too (although our favorites are different).

That’s the thing. My dad loves culture and being cultured. He’s much more comfortable going to a museum than going shopping. My mom would rather go shopping and “do something” than wander around some museum. LOL I would rather explore a museum and my brother would rather get lost in Best Buy.

I think I get my softy qualities from my dad. My father doesn’t have friends he really keeps contact with, and the only guys he hangs out with are my mom’s brothers and his brothers. I don’t have a set group of friends, and I’ve never had a best friend. I think my dad and I are drifters and too comfortable with our family to want for something else. He’s a lonely guy sometimes, I think. He rarely goes out to hang out, whereas my mom spends almost all her off days with her best friend(s). I don’t think this is a man or woman issue, because I used to never go out. Haha, my dad and I are homebodies. My mom and brother will never stay in the house if they can help it.

I wrote about each of my parents differently. I see them and their relation to me differently, I guess. I’m closer to my father because he talks to and with me, whereas my mom talks at me. I share more interests with my dad and more characteristics with my mom. I think they’ve raised a pretty good hybrid!

Realizing all these shared qualities makes me love my parents more. I can understand why they’re acting a certain way, and I know how I can improve myself and not become my mother. I think I might have lost a few other qualities I had in mind to write about, but whatever. 1300+ words should be enough. Now for questions.

Dissect your personality. Pick out the qualities you see in yourself and your parents. Think about the relation, and how strong each trait is in yourself and them. Think about habits, and forms of expression. You three are a lot more similar than you think.

Next time I’m writing about trust. I hope you guys respond to this, I don’t want my 1400+ stream of consciousness essay to go to waste.

It is ridiculously hot today. I’ve pulled back my hair, rolled up my sleeves, and stopped wearing my flip-flops to get around the house. I refuse to sit glassy-eyed in front of a fan, but this heat is torturous. I have to keep pulling a Nadal (btw, congratulations on winning the French Open, kid!) by yanking on my sticky underwear and my sticky shorts. I’m gonna go watch some Grey’s Anatomy now, to take my mind off the heat.

send some rain, would you send some rain…?