Update on Christmas!

My mom apparently urged my sister to get me a gift for Christmas or something, so today I got a slip of paper that says "Rain Check, present still in transit" because she ordered it online in the past couple of days.

Happy fucking holidays to everyone!

I'm going to go watch Love Actually now after my HIMYM season 1 marathon and just think about how badly I wish if my love life were a gooey romantic comedy we'd be at the 2 hour mark where everyone finds closure in a grand way or not, like over Skype, not the 1 hour mark where hearts are longing and things are left unsaid. Fuck I think I have like 5 ovaries churning out estrogen.

Cheers! Oh oops nope just kidding.

So today eating Christmas Eve dinner with my mom and sister (dad once again somewhere in Asia on a business trip, suspiciously over the holidays again), my mom had proposed a toast. I had first clinked glasses with my mom, and then I kept it raised towards my sister. She looked at me and just drank.

I was going to write a card and wrap the Christmas present I had bought for her towards the end of this past summer, but you know I'm honestly not feeling the holiday cheer. We don't even have a tree set up (it's in our garage too) and we're using this potted plant as a stand-in.

Good grief I despise coming here. Can't wait to go back home. Note to self: look into that summer psychology program.

Dinner with dad

Well, first off you know something's wrong with your family when eating a non-holiday meal together needs to be scheduled a week beforehand.

Next, nothing dramatic changed between my dad and I since I started college. Collectively, my immediate family is remarkably terrible at holding a conversation. The dialogue between my dad and I was very matter-of-fact and short-lived.

On the other hand, my sister threw a fucking tantrum in the public restaurant. She was crying by the time we paid and left. And why? She didn't want me to get a new phone carrier. First, why is that any of her business? Second, why not? Because then my parents will actually be able to contact me? I'm personally convinced she doesn't want me to switch to a family plan because it'll save me money to pay for my proportion of a family plan because we pay for our phone bills by ourselves, yet she refuses to be on a family plan with my dad because she hates him.

At any rate, she kept spouting bullshit and making false claims until my mom, dad, and I all told her she was lying through her teeth about what all of us had said, at which point she just cried. So then we left the restaurant. When we got to the car, she just stood demandingly next to the shotgun door and my mom asked her why she was sitting in the front, to which she replied, yelling, that she didn't want to sit next to me in the back seats.

In fact, last night, I was grading the FPS packets for PPII because I have to get them to my boss by next weekish, and she took the power cord to the household internet modem because she thought I was going to be too loud and she wouldn't be able to sleep. Who the hell does she think she is? In what universe does she get to dictate what I can do at what hour? And she can't sleep when there's a closet and two walls between the room I was in and hers? She is like an actual manifestation of the first-world problem girl. She thinks she is entitled to everything. I know I told my mom there's no way I'd abandon her if she comes to me in need of financial assistance a couple decades down the line because she wasted her time in high school and college, but she is really testing me right now.

If my mom and sister arguing and my fairly indifferent dad is all I come home to, I think I'd be willing to consider just straight up staying in California whether or not I get a summer job, internship, or research position. I can't stand it here.

Mistletoe! and thoughts on niceness

This was from StanfordGirlProblems, but it's great. Made me smile so hard and feel all giddy inside.


On an unrelated note, two days ago C- asked N-, S-, and I what was one thing I valued. Her own answer was niceness, because it is underappreciated and taken for granted. My initial reaction was that it is not underappreciated because nobody dislikes nice people. But then I thought about it a bit more, and it made sense. When people are really smart, or have a great sense of humor, or something like that, such a thing is often verbalized in a compliment. It's definitely far rarer to hear "you're just really nice." Maybe it's because the opposing complement (not compliment) of niceness is being mean or rude, which if you are you're just a terrible person, and so it's expected that you're not that, and thus are nice. Exceptionally nice is not distinguished from nice. Meanwhile, if you don't have a great sense of humor, you're not any less of a good human being, and so it's not expected that people will have good humor.

Thank goodness finals are a damn great excuse that masks all the frustration, confusion, and the general internal wilting and disappointment I am experiencing.

A shade of jealousy

A not entirely light shade of jealousy of people who have family that they look forward to visiting or going home to, who receive care packages in college, whose siblings are not more of a stranger than virtually any passerby on any street, or whose family care so much that they post pleasantries on Facebook walls to the extent that they are a source of embarrassment and induce apologies from said people. Of course, I'm simultaneously very happy for them, and hope they maintain that closeness with family through their lives.

And, I refuse to become one of those distant parents, should I ever become one.

People have asked me why I procrastinate on buying tickets home so much, and they tell me that I should buy them ASAP because they get expensive. Thanks, I appreciate it, but if you don't think I know that you are severely underestimating my common sense. Last time I went home, I spoke maybe 40 words to my sister over 4 days. I found cases of alcohol in the fridge. I spent two hours the night of Thanksgiving after dinner looking at the asset-splitting spreadsheet my mom's divorce lawyer sent her, translating instructions from her lawyer and helping her understand how to fill out the spreadsheet because I did accounting for DECA. As much as I care about my mom, if she's contacting me even while I'm away at college, she will inevitably ask me to help her look at that kind of stuff back home, and that's not my idea of relaxation. Especially not compared to lazy days at a place like Stanford.

5 Love Languages Again

So basically I'm making my dormmates take personality tests yay!

I took the 5 Love Languages test again, and got more or less the same results as before.

2 Words of Affirmation
11 Quality Time
2 Receiving Gifts
6 Acts of Service
9 Physical Touch

As far as the SLOAN test goes, my closest friend here is SCOAN and my favorite RA's type is RCOAN. Yup.

How I found my passion

This occurred to me and I wanted to write this down in case I forget it when I'm fully awake later today. I think I might've used this in a college essay anyway. Maybe historians or biographers will one day try to document my life and trace my career back to this notion and quote me on it. I wouldn't mind being quoted on this.

How to find your passion: read Wikipedia articles any time you come across them until you find something that makes you browse related link after related link. That's where your passion lies.

My passion: social psychology. It started with a link to the Milgram Experiment that I got from a friend who in turn received the link from a Scandinavian hermit on Omegle back in sophomore year. Since then, Stanford Prison Experiment, Zimbardo, Hofling Hospital Experiment, and so on and so forth. I even wrote my EE on the extent to which social psychology experiments of the 60s and 70s can be used to justify Nazi behavior in WWII.

Alternate, far less noble passion: romcom actors and actresses...

Stanford so far

This past Wednesday, I went back to Interlake to visit friends and teachers. Some of the interactions I had today were downright appalling. Others were simply incredibly thought provoking. The highlights, some of which are arguably lowlights:

• Mr. D-: I walked in on his gifted junior government class on an exam day, so while he was passing out scantrons and exams he offered the class a chance to ask me questions about college. He framed it as "a rare opportunity to talk to someone who just came out of your program [the gifted program] and is at a college that some people might consider decent." He himself posed the question "If you could go back and tell yourself one thing first semester junior year [the age of the class I was in], what would it be and why?" I couldn't answer it immediately, but I came back 5 minutes from the end of class and after a good amount of reflection, I decided it was to read more non-fiction. Not necessarily from books, but from blogs, newspapers, anywhere I could find anything that interests me. I then made the claim: "If you don't know what to write for a college essay, you have not read enough." In retrospect, I don't know if I agree with that, but it sounds good.
• Mr. D- and I both came to the conclusion that even though the enrollment in CS106 courses are up 1100/year in the last 4 years at Stanford, as per Mehran, we're not actually achieving what the American economy truly needs. When pundits say we need more people in STEM jobs, they mean for colleges to crank out more engineering and science majors, but honestly we're just creating another labor source that requires immense training. Talented, but still a mindless labor force. It's unnerving that there is such an elitism surrounding the culture of techies and condescension towards fuzzies, because as far as I'm concerned in no job will you not benefit from being well-rounded and educated in not only the technical details but also leadership, communication, and rhetorical skills, for instance. I am damn proud to be a fuckie, and we need more people who will embrace both dimensions of intellect to actually transform our economic landscape.
• Mr. C-: He asked me to describe my Interlake experience in one word. I said "limiting." In spite of having an internship built into my senior year, in spite of IB being offered in sophomore and junior year such that I'd have my diploma in hand when I applied to college, in spite of over 10 AP classes being offered, in spite of a student population in which 49 languages and all major religions were represented, I said limiting. What? Looking back, I can immediately see why he was so shocked, because I clearly took a lot for granted. However, I definitely still stand by my choice, because the homogeneity of the gifted program, and my being too ignorant and naive and complacent to expand my horizons to interact with others beyond the gifted program meant I had a very lopsided worldview throughout my last 7 years, and coming to Stanford opened my eyes wide. Very, very wide. In fact, I know Asians are supposed to be a minority, but I've never actually felt like a minority until today, when we took a gas stop at Vancouver, WA, and also back in the dorm when a lot of the Asian snacks were totally foreign, and being able to speak fluent Mandarin is considered exotic.
• At the same time, Mr. C- also pointed out that there were easily a lot of people impressed by what I accomplished in high school. I never thought about it this way, since a large number of people seemed to have fantastic internships, and go off to amazing schools. Huge culture shock.
• I told S-, A-, and P- that they were boring. They were among some of my closer friends back in Washington, but honestly their ability to fuel thought-provoking, exciting, intellectually stimulating conversations pale to a degree that I never imagined compared to those at Stanford. Don't get me wrong, they're not any less intelligent than Stanford kids (you get into PRISM by passing an IQ threshold after all), but rather their collective experiences are just far more underwhelming and far less diverse, to no fault of their own.

These last two months have easily been the best two months of my life so far. Maybe it's just relative to my last two years these months have been monumentally better, but I don't think so. Being surrounded by people who are genuinely excited and take pride in being intellectual is a fantastic experience. That doesn't even happen in all institutions of higher education, but merely the higher caliber colleges. I have never been around so many people intrinsically motivated to learn--not necessarily for a higher salary, or because their parents demanded it, but those can be factors too--than here. And when glimmers of this abundance of and yet still thirst for knowledge show up even in everyday activities like movies, or music nights, or small talk over meals, it is simply intoxicating. I've got to say that must be the reason Stanford on the whole, academics or otherwise, have been great.

(Oh, did I mention my dormmates are incredible? There are people in everywhere on the relationship closeness continuum of acquaintances to familial with a hint of romantic...)

Soul Mate!

I have so much to talk about and I don't know where to start so I'm just going to put off talking about it. Instead...

I can so sympathize.

Source: http://www.loadingartist.com/2012/11/19/soul-mate/

Premature Celebration

So I had thought cancer would no longer play a significant role in my life anymore after my mom's treatment. I was dead wrong.

Today, my elementary school friend M- and I conversed for the first time in a long time. 7 years ago, we and two other friends were inseparable. Older classmates called us the Three Stooges and Larry. We played at recess, sang in the same choir, among other things we did together. Even though I moved after fifth grade, and Michigan elementaries last through sixth grade, they still included me in the Webster Class of 2006 group and I was invited to their reunion.

Through M-, I found out that one of the Three Stooges, I-, was diagnosed with brain cancer. He had been hospitalized about a month and a half ago, and they found a tumor just 15 days ago. Two weeks and he was gone. He's still on life support but he's already entered a vegetative state, and his parents gave the okay to pull the plug, and are making adjustments to their lives as if he's passed. As much as Hollywood makes miracles look like everyday happenings, it's looking grim. Rest in peace, Ian. You were one of the nicest people I knew then, and that 7 years have passed that we've scarcely maintained contact yet I still feel this overwhelming shock and grief is a true testament to the strength of the friendship we had.

http://www.schrader-howell.com/sitemaker/sites/Schrad1/obit.cgi?user_id=784467

It puts a lot of things in perspective. There are so many people whose existence I honestly take for granted. I don't keep in touch with them nearly enough, but I would be devastated should something happen to them. It makes me think about whether I'd die happy if I, like Ian, were to go before 20. Death and mortality has not been such a personal reality since my grandmother's passing, and at the time I was too young to really introspect after the tsunami of sorrow was over. I certainly feel far more mature compared to my 4th or 5th grade self back then.

Cancer-Free!

My mom is cancer-free! Her surgery was a few days ago, and the cancer cells have all been removed as of Tuesday!

The day before college begins

NSO starts tomorrow.

My dad flew home today. No tears were shed in a sentimental goodbye.

(In the meantime, my sister made my mom cry by complaining about not being able to go souvenir shopping ceaselessly after she drove over 250 miles in back to back days and was exhausted.)


---

I don't know what to feel right now. I'm not nervous. I'm not anxious. I'm pretty excited, but not bouncing off the wall excited.

I just have this nagging feeling that I forgot something back in Washington. Not something tangible though, not a belonging I needed to bring to my dorm or anything. I guess I just feel like I left a lot of loose strings in the various storylines of my life back in Washington.

My mom is pissing me off.

My mom holds literally everything against me. She is so full of contradictions and so devoid of sense. Let's see what accusations I've received recently.

• My sister goes out and parties too much with her friends, therefore it becomes my sole responsibility to care for her because nobody else will. Way to address the root of the problem!
• My mom tells me that she doesn't want me attending her breast cancer examinations because, after all, it's breast cancer and that gets awkward. Then, she says I'm heartless and impatient because I never go with her to examinations and help her translate what the doctors say.
• My mom tells me that she doesn't want to get involved with college stuff (applications, housing, meal plans, move-in stuff, basically all the orientation things) because there's too much English, and that she trusts I can handle it. Then, she says she feels hurt that I keep shutting her out of college information, and she feels unwelcome and not knowledgeable when she talks to other parents at any admit receptions/sendoff parties.
• I've finally turned 18, and therefore it is my responsibility to become more independent (with planning my own activities, chores, work, etc.). Oh wait! How dare I not inform her of every little detail in my life?? She didn't raise me 18 full years just so I can sever family ties. I'm still her baby, and she has every right to know who I talk to, what I read and do.
• When I do tell my mom something, she then proceeds to forget within the next five minutes. Then she'll ask me again, and forget again. If she asks some three or four times, I'll tell her, I've told you before. Then she'll condescendingly question--is this how you're treating me when I'm in my mid-40s? I can't imagine how bad you'll be when my memory's even worse later on. How hard is it to just repeat it once more? Believe it or not, just because you've forgotten something I've told you, doesn't make me in the wrong for not telling you. Sure you can't really be blamed for forgetting, I understand it's a biological thing that comes with aging, but I sure as hell am not intentionally disrespecting you, nor in the wrong for being annoyed at repeating something as many as eight or nine times.

Whenever my mom talks to me, she is always card stacking. Always. I do almost all the chores because my sister doesn't, act as a liaison or translator between my mom and school administrators and teachers, cashiers at the grocery store, handymen for car maintenance, and pretty much fucking everything. I've must've moved tens of thousands of pounds of groceries, and helped her lug the 40ish-lb vacuum cleaner up an down the stairs hundreds of times.

And the worst part is, I don't even try to point out how wrong she is when she berates me for all this shit. She'd just say I have no right to point out her mistakes because she's my mom. I just sit and listen to her hurl these accusations. Today, she got mad at me for looking angry when she's talking to me. Am I not allowed to look angry?

When I was like 7, my 2nd grade teacher was trying to explain the difference between house and home. She said that house is just a physical object, but home implies an associated feeling of comfort. Seeing those "Welcome home" signs in pictures of past Stanford NSOs makes me think: I'm so damn glad I'm leaving for college soon, because that's where home is. It's kind of silly how teachers try to teach little kids that with the word "family" carries implied feelings of affection and love. The last two years of my life have really proven otherwise.

Reflections on Camp Killoqua

In a nutshell: I really really liked Camp Killoqua, and it's definitely very high on my list of places to work next summer.

But I tried to delve into the reasons that made me enjoy it so much. I've come up with a couple of possibilities.

First, everything that happens there constitutes to a sense of family. Obviously, after spending a full week with the same people from morning to night, you get to know them pretty well. But a lot of other things too. At meals, the head of the table serves you food and the foot of the table serves you drinks. You don't sit with the same people every meal, but between serving food, watching for the seconds box, passing dirty plates, and the conversations that take place, there is enough interaction that you feel pretty tight with those people by the end of the meal, and for the rest of the week you'll greet them passing by on campgrounds. That's definitely something that's missing from my life.

Second, I love the whole deal with the singing. Singing graces before a meal, teaching songs after a meal, singing before leaving the table, and, most of all, serenade, where the counselors and CITs go around to each cabin group and sing the campers to sleep. It's an interesting dynamic that's created. Flipping through the songbook that Frog gave me, some of the songs are quite morbid. My personal favorite (and also wildly popular among many of the campgoers and counselors) is Char's Song, and it was adapted from a military farewell song. There's one line that goes "some of us, I know, are bound to die." In this sense, Killoqua felt quite raw and transparent--there was no beating around the bush when it comes to sad matters. Many of the songs use lyrics along the lines of "this is goodnight and not goodbye" with a camp-is-ending-but-not-the-friendship notion. It's humbling and down-to-earth, and definitely a bit melancholy. Even so, there is just so much joy. And being surrounded by people who smile in the face of sadness makes me that much stronger and capable of enjoying myself in spite of (what I perceive as) shit in my life. I can really appreciate what I have.

Third, it is so easy to fit in there. The traditions are easy enough to pick up, and typical barriers to interpersonal interaction are nonexistent. While I was there, there were some 5 or 6 foreign counselors (hailing from Great Britain, Ireland, and New Zealand) as well as maybe 6 states represented. Furthermore, the ages of the counselors ranged from 18 to 40. Yet, even the 8-year-old campers got along with the adults as if they've been childhood friends from years. The camp names tradition is wonderful: all counselors and CITs get a camp name, an alias they go by among each other and the campers. In fact, some of the counselors don't even know the real names of the other counselors. I really liked this because you could see some of the traits or personality of the person reflected in their name, and, as far as I can tell, made everyone more comfortable and open in this new identity. Whatever the hiring process is there, it works, because the counselors are all crazy and fun yet (for the most part) responsible, and when you get a lot of people who are willing to be crazy in public, everyone else who wants to be crazy (aka be themselves) but normally subdues it will be crazy too!

All in all, I had a great time there, and I'm planning on applying for a job there next summer. I don't know what opportunities college will open up, but I can certainly see myself passing up jobs with better pay to work there because it's just a relaxing, carefree environment.

Conversation

It's almost scary how there are certain people I can just talk, and talk, and talk, and talk to, and it never gets dull and I never run out of laughter and we shift from one topic to the next with ease, and it's just relaxing and comfortable even if the topics of our conversation are less than pleasant.

Went to the park in the morning and read a humorous though often confusing book for a while. Then I was joined in the afternoon by K- and we talked about a lot of the people we've met recently and how amazing they are over some light picnicking food, which I think made me look bad because the spaghetti I cooked had cooled and I was gloating about my amazing spaghetti cooking before I realized that heh. I wish we could've chatted more because she's going to China and then I'll have college and that'll suck because talking to her is so damn enjoyable. Then I walked four miles because I forgot to bring money on me and the school bus passes don't work anymore. I was kind of singing as I walked, but after around 200 minutes of conversation I was losing my voice. So maybe not about the chatting more, but maybe like lie in the grass and look at clouds or something.

Tomorrow, I start work, and I'll feel very much like an adult; 9 hour workdays for five days straight, then overnight days for six days straight. I kind of have this voice in the back of my head telling me today was the last day of my childhood. As far as legal definitions are concerned, I'm an adult in less than a month. I'm definitely not complaining about today, and of course as D- told me (in a rough paraphrase) last time I brought up how we're going to be adults soon, youthfulness isn't defined by age unless you let it be. I was surprised by such wise words from his mouth, of course, but I liked that sentiment.

Long story short, I'm pretty sure this was hands down my day best spent all summer.

(except with more overcast skies, cause like, it's Seattle.)

Alegrias

"Everyone wants to be the sun that lights up your life. But I'd rather be your moon, so I can shine on you during your darkest hour when your sun isn't around."

I like this quote, I don't know who it's by.

Source: www.alegrias.me

I also like this image:

Not invincible

I think I sorted through my feelings a bit more.

Today, I went to downtown Seattle (Westlake Center) to meet up with a few other rising freshmen who will be my classmates next year at Stanford. Luckily for me, I live only 20 minutes away; S- drove an hour and 45 minutes or something to get there.

It was great. We walked around proudly wearing our red and white, sang to Under the Sea with some of the buskers, visited the first Starbucks in the world, got fondly licked by police horses, taste tested varieties of olive oil (blackberry, orange and dark chocolate, pear and cranberry, among others), got lost and asked for directions pretending we were Californians, got soaked touching "the butt" (the International Fountain), took a ton of silly pictures, sunbathed in a triangle formation on each other's stomachs (until more people joined, when it just turned into a pile of red and white and grey), and ate good mall fake Asian food.

In a nutshell, I was feeling pretty invincible. I've been told a number of times that I had my future in my hands now that I'm going to Stanford, and it felt true in those six or seven hours.

At around 8:15 my mom picked me up and we headed home. My mom missed the express lane and when I pointed it out she said she had a lot on her mind and wasn't paying attention. I asked what it was, and she told me that the mammogram she had done earlier that day revealed she had cancer. We don't know yet if it's benign or malignant; she has 6 hours' worth of examinations and tests to undergo in the next two business days.

I was pretty determined to be strong for her. I've been watching Avatar the past few weeks (both The Last Airbender and Legend of Korra), and those kids go through way tougher shit than I do. Yes it's a cartoon, but the notions are the same. Be strong in the face of adversity, blahblah.

In addition to that news, something's also happened to my mom's youngest brother (who is 3 years older than her). He had lent us money when we were buying our house like 6 years back, but now he's in financial trouble. For some reason, he had closed the shop he owned and sold his cars. Obviously, my mom wanted to return the favor. However, with a pending divorce, her cancer is a huge financial burden once the divorce goes through and she no longer has access to the insurance policy family plan through my dad's employer.

Last Thursday, I had turned in my application for the Stanford Summer Engineering Academy (SSEA), and I heard today that people were getting their results back by email. I went home and checked my email. Nothing.

It's all crashing down on me now. My dad's a dick and everything that happens with his side of my family inevitably get to him, and if  I could somehow pay my way through college myself, I'd be more than happy to cut off all communication with him. I didn't even want him at my high school graduation. My mom's side of the family actually has people with some level of decency, but look what good it's done them. My mom's sister had an abusive, alcoholic husband, and, now divorced, she's single at the age of 50 and some change. My older maternal uncle divorced when their son was in college (sounds familiar?), remarried, and now I have a cousin who's 2. My younger maternal uncle is still happy in marriage, but something's happening with his financial security apparently. And of course my parents are separating, and my mom has cancer. I got into Stanford? So what? The world is by no means at my doorstep. In fact, if anything, it's only been slipping further and further away in the last few months. And of course, there's nothing I can do about it, because plenty of Ivy League graduates don't have jobs, and I'm not even like top of my class kind of thing, SSEA kind of proves it.

I'm pretty much Harry Potter. And when everyone goes home on vacations, my mom will be in Taiwan and only in the best case scenario. The worst case scenario I don't even want to type out.

And when I thought of that analogy, it made me realize, I'm pretty much utterly alone. As far as loved ones go, I have it worse than Harry. Having your parents die before you were conscious is terrible, I'm not denying that. But I'd take pleasure knowing my parents died to save me. And also, Harry had the Weasleys to stay with. I might be great with people (all the new people I met today + the strangers on the street seem to suggest that that's true), but how many people do I feel close enough to just crash at their house for a while? None, really. College is hitting me full force right now, it's sunk in that I'm done with high school. It's only a month and 3 days before I'm legally an adult; it's about time I mentally readied myself for it. And I'm fucking scared as hell.

I wonder which takes longer to sink in, realizing you're done with high school and going off to college, or news that your mom has cancer.

Overactive Imagination?

Very often, I have this introspective dilemma where something someone says or writes haunts me for hours or days. A lot of times, it's accompanied by the self-doubt where I think that I'm reading too much into things, but I always end up concluding that it's better too assume that all the subtexts are actually there because it's better safe than sorry, in a weird way.

I feel like it's a perpetuation of an arguably traumatic elementary school (I think?) lesson on subliminal messaging. It was about how the media portrays things or something, and how advertising tries to infiltrate your subconscious. I also remember that Sprite commercial from years ago that was titled or nicknamed or something "Subliminal Messaging" and had a lot of people partying and holding Sprite bottles while they danced and it ended without ever actually having the word "Sprite" in plain font and it freaked me out.

Basically, when I hear or read things, mostly from people I know, that might have something to do with me, I frequently assume it is for me. It's like those teachers that tell the entire class something and then follow it up with "you know who you are" and everyone in the class assumes its them even though it's actually nobody. Unless I'm just making that up from some article I might've read from a psychology blog, or about Nazis.

I think it boils down to me not being able to tell when something is relevant to me, or merely relatable for me. There are times when it's remarkably clear that something is relevant; usually that's the easy one. It's easy to tell when something definitely is meant for my eyes or ears. But when things aren't meant for me, it becomes hazy in my mind. I think this also makes me self-centered, which carries a pretty negative connotation. Maybe paranoia or self-conscious is better, but I feel like this isn't necessarily an inhibition or like some mental handicap; instead, it helps me become a better person because I assume criticisms are about me. I am totally not sure at all.

And guilt, that's a whole different thing. I'm almost sure I can guilt trip myself. If I don't live up to my own expectations, I then feel guilty about doing all the things which I attribute to my failure. It is so easy to guilt trip me, and I can recognize it's a guilt trip, and I'll still fall for it. I guess this makes it so that it's pretty easy to use me, and I think I'm getting better at barricading my brain from unfounded accusations or negativity, but it's still a struggle right now.

I guess it's not really a whole different thing. So often I feel the need to assume responsibility for things that aren't necessarily my fault, and of course the guilt is doubly or more worse when I know that it's about me. And it's a horrible feeling. I distinctly remember back in 8th grade a friend of mine wrote on her blog that guilt is a magnifying glass of pain, and I loved that analogy.

You'd think knowing this problem would make it easier to deal with it. I thought so too, and after coming to this realization a couple of months ago, and then talking to a few likeminded people about it--fortunately, I might add, it appears I'm not the only one who sucks at dealing with guilt--today, in a casual conversation I totally fell into this sort of mental trap and didn't realize it until she told me "it's okay, I [just] love making people feel unnecessarily guilty." Wow, great going, self.

All in all though, I'm not sure I would trade how I approach emotions and people for a different way. Even though I always assume the worst, I feel like in the long run it'll be better than always assuming the best. Because there certainly are times when I just hit a low point and am ashamed of myself whether others are or not, and I firmly believe that that shame will be a better catalyst for personal change or growth than people telling me outright that I need to change, because I can be really stubborn.

Wow my last two weeks with regards to someone totally makes sense now. You will never get me to do anything about my stubbornness telling it to my face, but after a little reflection you've caused me to kind of embrace it as a flaw I need to change I think? Whatever happened, thanks. I hope we never not talk again.

Some recent meaningful episodes of communication

In the past 24 hours, three people have really taken the time to just communicate to me.

One of the conversations wasn't pleasant at all--far from it, actually, and it left me in a terrible and irritable mood--but it was meaningful and deep nevertheless. It was about friendship and grudges, and the conversation was had face-to-face, and I liked that. It ended on a horrible note though, with the two of us stubbornly insisting that we'd never talk to each other again, and I'm not sure if I meant that. On the one hand, I felt that she was being extremely immature and not respecting my opinion, and also not understanding everything I've been through when it comes to family and robotics. On the other hand, I feel like she had good intentions, but simply conveyed it terribly and immaturely.

The other two came in the form of handwritten letters. Both of them were thought-provoking and a little on the flattering side, though both authors made sure to clarify that no flattery was intended, and they were simply speaking the truth. In any case, they were really heartfelt, and I kind of got goosebumps as I read them. I have a need to be needed or appreciated, and satisfying that need isn't an everyday occurrence.

Perhaps the saddest thing is that in all three of these cases, the people involved I've known for two years or fewer. I have way more to say writing in the yearbooks of people I haven't been in classes with for upwards of four or five years. I'd like to believe that it's not because we've grown apart with time, but that it's simply a personality kind of thing, that even if I had been with the same people for only a year, I'd have just as little to say to them. Ultimately, I think that it'll become apparent soon with the inevitable distance as we go off to college which of my friends I miss and which I don't.

It's Been a While

It's been a while since I posted here. A lot has happened, some fortuitous, some not quite so.

This past Friday, we went to the Hunt the Wumpus competition that Microsoft holds every year. After getting about 14 hours of sleep in five days, it all paid off, and our team won first place! :D Despite one member of the team, though a brilliant programmer, being less than fun to work with (goes to bed at 9pm and expects everyone to finish what he doesn't, and gets angry extremely easily), it was overall a pretty enjoyable experience and I'd be lying if I said it didn't prompt me to consider computer science more heavily as a choice of major.

One of the keynote speakers at the event talked about the "alpha jerk" in a team. It's pretty intuitive after you hear it, but I never really thought about it before, and I'm glad that I've managed to steer away from becoming that kind of person in team situations. Basically in business, the alpha jerk is the guy who knows what he's doing (often more than he needs to), but as a result becomes extremely domineering. Ironically, the 9pm bedtime guy fits that description entirely. Quite conveniently, I was sitting right behind him during the keynote, and he got extremely squirmy in his chair while that section of the presentation was going on.

It's been a while since I talked to K-, but luckily tonight I actually had a nice, hour-long conversation with her. Every time we talk it seems like it's the best thing that could happen to my evenings, whereas the saying of "good night" bodes the opposite. There just seem to be a few people with whom I can have endless hours of conversation with. I'm going to hate myself if I let me and these people have a falling out once I go off to college.

Sometimes I wonder, if you're extremely frustrated, and not necessarily justified in being so, is it better to have a friend to tell you straight up that you're not being sensible, or comfort you and solidify the frustration by assuring you you're not in the wrong? I think this little dilemma came up for both of us in our conversation, as we were kind of just venting to each other.

Talking to some people give me a lot of hope. I had a rather solemn conversation with B- about a week ago, and I want to be sure I don't forget it. He was telling me about how there were a lot of people that left a great first impression on him as a friend, but over the years he's begun to notice very distasteful qualities about them. One in particular he had lost all respect for because he wove quite an intricate web of lies because he was too prideful to admit he didn't get into the state school that almost everyone in our accelerated program gets into.

Shortly after that conversation, I burned a lot of bridges that I felt I should've burned way long ago. I basically grew a pair (it definitely helped that, for the most part, I wouldn't be seeing them for the rest of my life in two more weeks) and told them a lot of things I take issue with as far as their personal qualities go. I didn't do it in a rude way; I just did it in a matter-of-fact, I hope you take this to heart because I'm not simply trying to offend you kind of way. I don't have fond memories of them, but all the same I hope they actually take what I say into consideration. If not, their loss, I guess.

It's been a while since I felt that liberating feeling. Not having to keep up facades of friendships that aren't there is a very relaxing feeling. My senior year has had quite a few disappointments, particularly as far as robotics go, but I feel like it's also been one of the most valuable. I feel like my emotional intelligence has developed so so much, and I will be able to handle a lot of situations better.

Now that I only have 4 days of school left, I'm feeling ambivalent about leaving high school. It's bittersweet. I think the more the yearbooks I sign, the sadder I'm going to get. There are a lot of people that I have a lot of things to say to, and a few of them give me weird looks when I tell them I have a lot to say to them and would like to take their yearbooks home overnight, which makes me rethink whether it's really worth having a lot to say to them. Do they have a lot to say to me too? I hope so.

Definitely, though, I'm looking forward to meeting some new people. I've been with roughly the same peers for seven years, and I'm getting pretty tired of the same faces, save for a few that never cease to entertain or amuse me. I can only imagine how difficult it might be putting up with someone you're not entirely fond of since first grade or something. Though I guess my sister might feel that way about me, because apparently she thinks my goal in life is to make her miserable.

It's been a while since I touched a saw to use as a musical saw, but last week I picked one up again for fun. I ended up using it to help K- ask someone to prom and then entered our school talent show. It's quite relaxing for me, and it helps me destress and unwind. Some time when I get a nice amount of free time, I want to go somewhere in a crowded place and just play, wordlessly. I feel like it has an enchanting effect--it did on me when I first heard a musical saw--that kind of puts things in perspective, and makes you think a little. I don't know.

Every day

Pretty much every day.

Something not very everyday happened to me today, and I want to be sure I don't forget it. I can't remember the last time something made me smile so hard.

For three weeks, D- has been trying to talk to me. All I knew was that it was on an awkward conversation topic, so admittedly I hadn't exactly been actively trying to have that conversation with her. She finally caught me after school yesterday.

I've been acquainted with D- since 8th grade, but would actually have considered us friends only starting last year. She changed a lot in those 3ish years, becoming a lot more cynical and dubious, far less trusting and sunny and bubbly. Over the past year, she's said a lot of things that have stung quite a bit, but it made me kind of really determined to crack her shell. Especially one email she'd sent me that really struck me, in which she scathingly berated me for being too idealistic, having my head stuck in the clouds, and naive.

Today, the conversation actually happened. By happened I mean D-'s friend who knew what's up pretty much dragged her to me and was like GO TALK and she had no choice. There were a few other people tagging along that didn't know what was going on so we left them for a remote staircase away from all other life forms.

I realized over the course of the conversation that I'm absolutely horrible at accepting gratitude? Not really the right phrasing, but I dunno I'm horrible at taking compliments or the like. I found it prudent to poke fun at D- while she was telling me everything and I'm pretty sure I came across as rude and insensitive, because it was pretty easy to tell that the conversation was difficult for her. In fact, she gave me a nice long hug, which is totally out of character for her, and I was totally taken aback. I just ended up quoting Sheldon, in all his awkward glory: "there there." Go me...

The gist of the conversation was about how she was sorry for being really bitchy to me in the past few months to a yearish, and how she's going to miss me once I graduate because there's nobody in her class like me. This made me feel so wonderful asdj;foiaw;eo. She also used a funny metaphor about how there'll be a "big larry-shaped hole" in her life, which of course I haaaad to point the oxymoron and I think I embarrassed her more UGH and I don't think she thought I was taking her seriously.

I realized that despite our love-hate relationship and all our jibes at each other, D-'s among the people I'm going to miss most once I graduate. And it's sad, because a lot of the people in my grade I've had classes with for nearing 7 years now, and I'm not going to miss them nearly as much.

I also feel privileged. Maybe that's just me being self-centered, but I feel like I got to glimpse a side of D- that she doesn't show to many people (or anyone?). If we didn't have that conversation, I'd be pretty damn convinced she's just cynical of everything and everyone (goes back to that email), but now I feel rather victorious. I've heard things from her friends about how she was like years ago, but the years haven't seen to have done her faith in humanity any good. I'm so glad I didn't graduate with a misconstrued impression of who she is.

Speaking of everyday activities, I like this quote. I used a similar notion in one of my college essays, and it really resonates with what I value in a relationship, romantic or platonic.

[Re]Open Your Eyes

For the past 5 days, I was in Salt Lake City for the 2012 International Career Development Conference for DECA, competing in Accounting Applications. As far as the competition goes, nothing too exciting happened. I made it to the finals (Top 16) but performed poorly on the final role play. We saw the Jabbawockeez perform live, though I believe it was their B team; still really cool nonetheless, especially the Kiss the Girl and Single Ladies segments.

The more memorable part was definitely the experience shared with the people there. I got to know a few students with whom I've been classmates with for 7 years now way better, and I'm glad I got to see this side of them before graduating with any misconceptions about them as people. Not really misconceptions--they still are who they are when they behave as they do at school--but just another side of them, a sensitive side that they try to hide.

In the meantime, I also bonded a lot more with people I hadn't known until this year. I kind of wish I learned more about them, and I feel like I kind of dominated the conversation perhaps, getting carried away with things and people in my life. Hopefully, I don't come across at self-centered. Even more hopefully, we'll still keep in touch after I graduate, because if in just 8 short months they've become among the close friends who I trust the most, who knows what could happen with years more? There's no doubt in my mind that I'll miss two of these albeit relatively new friends of mine way more than others I have known for about half my conscious life.

I was thinking about what made me click with them. What made me so comfortable sharing some of the thoughts I usually tuck away for personal introspection? I don't really know. For sure, it seems that I can really connect with people like me. Not to let my life be dominated by MBTI or anything, but of the 6 people I trust most, 4 are ENFJs (the other three are ENTP, ISTJ).

Furthermore, it seems that at some point, we always have a conversation about my past. It can be really embarrassing depending on the details we delve into, but it always leaves me rather melancholy. Yet, I enjoy talking about it a lot. Why? I'm not a masochist in any way.

This is where this post was going. The phrase "open your eyes" is used almost to the point of cliched-ness. But talking to new people about my past--people with some level of maturity, open-mindedness, and capacity for empathy anyway--reopens my eyes. There are a lot of little things in my life that I'd hate to forget, and I have a tendency to regurgitate those when I talk about what has made me me (not at the superficial level, but at a deep level that I care to talk about only when my conversational partner exhibits genuine interest or concern). I'd like to emphasize that parenthetical statement, because I have pretty high standards, I feel, about when to trust people and tell people stuff, but it's also always based on a gut feeling; I don't open up to everyone, but when I do I always do it with utmost confidence that what I tell them will not fall upon deaf ears, and will be respected. Anyway, whenever I revisit these memories with new people, I feel like I see things ever so slightly differently, but end up learning more about myself when I reflect on the conversations.

In the meantime, I read an article on a fantastic new product concept: http://www.fashioningtech.com/profiles/blogs/touchy-the-human-camera

It is literally a physical manifestation of someone else "opening your eyes." I absolutely love the whole concept, and I feel like it would really enhance social interaction or relationships (not necessarily just romantic ones). Especially for me, recalling that my dominant love language is physical touch followed closely by quality time, this is an invention I really need to have. The pictures it stores seems a perfect way to capture the little things, not the grand big things. I like that.

DNA/RNA

Awwwww electrophoresis and RNA base pairs (thymine/T is replaced by uracil/U in RNA pairings)

In other news, I had a really good last two weeks. Spokane, FPS, and then Stanford all in 10 days. :D Got to know a lot of people I've kind of been in proximity with a lot but never really bonded with (not to keep up the science terms or anything), and also got a lot closer to people who I've already talked to a lot in the past. Stanford is so gorgeous as;dfaweo.

Blog Activity

Today, I realized that my activity on this blog is directly proportional to how many people I feel comfortable talking about my problems with. The more the people I have to talk about things, the less frequently I'm posting on here.

Alternate correlation: The fewer the problems I have, the less frequently I post on here.

Finnick and Annie eeeeee

My friend showed this to me!
This Feeling Chapter 1, a hunger games fanfic - FanFiction.Net

"Cuddle-friendly" movie theater

Ahahaha AWWW adorable way to kiss. :P

So I noticed that this blog is quickly becoming a blog of things that I find freaking adorable, plus an occasional profound quote or something. There's not actually that much of me.

I'm okay with that, I guess, but I kind of want to be able to look back and smile at who I am and what I think later down the line. Be amused at my naivete or foolishness or be awed at how insightful I am or something like that.

Right now, I'm a more than a little sad because someone I care a lot about is on the verge of giving up on robotics, but she doesn't know she's among the main reasons I've persevered through all of the crap I get here. Inspiration: failed. And it's not even that I think everyone that is on the team should end up going into STEM or anything, but they should at least enjoy their stay. Apparently, it's just become a chore, and I'm sure that that's true for many others on the team.

The most beautiful line is 'But, I love you...'

The most painful line is 'I love you, but..."

-Unknown

Matching Clothing

So matching sweatshirts are freaking adorable.

Back!

Now that the semester is over, I'm back! I won't be updating my tumblr anymore.