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End of the day feelings:

• 2 Political Science classes 10-5PM.
• Feeling fat after compulsively eating everything in the school vendor area for dinner. Name it, I probably ate it.
  
• At 8 PM my final review finally ended, concluding my neverending day, and the result of the review was stressing out even more about my test.
  
• Gym for major calorie burning -- 1000 to be exact -- and shifting my concentration onto something mindless for a change.
  
• Ralphs for food, and thus more compulsive stress eating (2nd red velvet cake this week, A RECORD!, and Lunchables). And I'm back to feeling fat.
  
• Now ready to partake in OPERATION "Make my professor not hate my writing style." It's not about how much you can bring to the table with your words and opinions, but rather, how well you're able to write what the professor..aka Dr. Right, wants to hear. I'm a people-pleaser. I can do it, but do I want to do it? Not particularly. I want to eat and think about life like a normal emo person and buy a weighted piano keyboard so I can play that new Shinee song. This process would be much more rewarding. After a nice sightread, I would no longer be emo, and more fangirl-y than ever. Instant Prozac. I hate being emo, it's like the bipolar side that I want to beat up and put in a straightjacket...efffin A. My roomate is talking on the phone, while I'm pretending to study. WHAT THE HECK. Rude. And now my eye itches. I'm gonna put some EVOO on it now, Goodbye.
  

For more blabber, take the jump at the link below.

I'm going on a break from blogging with finals coming up and two recruitments looming closer and closer. If ever I needed a break, it's now. I had a nice long talk with one of my best friends today, it reassured me of my humanity that I am not superwoman, so I shouldn't put a world of expectation on myself but I need to be stronger and voice my opinions instead of bottling them up. These thoughts are wasted energy and creativity, suffocating under my skin. I feel my lungs slowly constrain with every breath that I don't let out, and often I feel an invisible mountain crashing down on me when I see the aftermath of my inaction. Often I can wholeheartedly relate to that homeless woman sitting on the corner of the street that I see everyday. And I pass her, wanting so much to sit down next to her and share in her misery, rather than feeling it alone.

So, goodbye, blog. I'm going on a little break. Writing my thoughts down has been rather counterproductive, because I usually just spit out my negative thoughts and discard them, but this has been a chewed up piece of gum that remains stuck to my shoe. And I'm faced with all my fears, instead of carelessly putting it out of mind. Once I begin class, become overloaded with incalculable stress, and regain my normalcy, I might come back for a rant or two. Until then,
Sayonara.
Arrivederci.
Annyeong :)

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COLLEGE FINALS

Tests are a fact of life. But preparing for 2 essay questions is asking for mental suicide.

So I bought a peppermint plant from Ralph's last night. Peppermint is supposed to calm the nerves and ward off bugs (which are swarming my apartment like an anthrax explosion).

I don't know whether to water it or not. It didn't come with instructions. I have a feeling it won't live to see me get my finals back. But I do hope it'll help me concentrate, freak out less, and ace those 2 finals. These days, knowledge and writing ability won't get you anywhere, but kissing up to the professor and regurgitation (aka plagiarism of the Professor's words) will. So I must do the latter. Come on, I really want that A...

Anyway, I'm still soul searching...looking for a job prospect, or internship that really excites me for once. Being pre-med isn't supposed to be fun, but aren't there any tiny perks along the way???

I guess not. I've decided, the secret to success is to FAKE IT TIL YOU MAKE IT, as a little birdie, aka some pompous CEO of some international corporation, told me once.

FAKING IT IS SO HARD. But until I look the part, I might as well start faking the "fake" part. Ew verbosity.

And the Academy Award goes to...

UPDATE:

I'm planning on seeing a psychic. Any sort of positive brainwashing I can get, I'll take. I don't have religion to help me cope. Sadly, I've never believed in Santa, and it's even less likely I could trust a deity to bring me hope. Positive affirmations help, but they're much too flimsy to stand up to the taunts and judgments of the masses. Without even the slightest superficial support of my parents, I am a tiny boat lost at sea. So little by little, I'm trying to stay afloat, remember my destination, and do it with a big cheesy smile....without resorting to becoming heavily medicated.

CORRECTION:

THIS POST IS NOT A REFLECTION OF ME. IT IS THE INTERNAL MONSTER SURFACING. DANGER. BACK AWAY NOW. COME BACK WHEN I'M IN A BETTER MOOD...AKA WHEN AUNT FLO LEAVES.

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Lost in The Hills

Productivity without studying:

1. Look for weekly ad coupons for toilet paper. Give up, buy toilet paper from Ralphs.
   
2. Watch a gazillion Youtube vids and 2 episodes of The Hills.
3. Work out at the gym for 2 hours and burned 700 calories. It's amazing how long I stayed. My motivation? Sleep, I wanted to tire myself out so I could finally sleep at a normal time and not 8am in the morning.
4. Laundry, broken dryer, had to travel between floors. It was like a second workout.
   

At the gym, I saw this guy staring at his screen while he was on the bicycle machine. He looked so focused and intense. Wondered what he was so into.

It was The Hills. I had a moment of realization. Boys are drama queens too.

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Sleepless Nights of Red Velvet Cake

After a tireless night of watching a new Shinee music video (EEEKKK!!!) and their NEW reality show episodes, I felt empty (no more singing, dancing, Asian stars to fill the void). Disclaimer: I don't expect you to understand but I'll kindly explain: Shinee, a Korean boy band sensation ages 15-17?, go on dates with slightly older women and the featured girl picks a winner to go on a longer date with. It's hilarious, slightly pedophilic in an innocent, childish way, the girls are only a few years older..haha like me..I should be on that show!!

Last night I couldn't fall asleep. *Sigh*. What's new. But I had this insatiable urge to get a Sprinkles cupcake at that very moment, and my stomach churned just thinking about waiting in that ridiculous line of white collared baby-boomers and LA hipsters, entering that cramped, minimalistic themed establishment, finally getting in the door, ordering 4 red velvets, getting that cute little cardboard box, and at last, digging into that "diabetes in a cup" with my little wooden spoon. I could have traversed continents to get there, I just had to have that soft cream-cheesy delight. So I spent the hours from 5am-8am planning my itinerary for getting to Beverly Hills with no form of reliable transportation. I even considered walking the 55 minutes it takes according to Google Maps. I researched Metro and Big Blue routes with no avail. I charted a way to get there by transferring 2 buses and walking an additional 20 minutes to get to the door. Why isn't there a Sprinkles/Beverly Hills shuttle that takes me directly there? What happened to supply meeting demand!?! So maybe I got a little obsessed. But considering my sanity was being punched in the nuts by my hunger, I was a cupcake fiend.





Then I thought of a brand new idea. Ding!

I looked up other cupcake shops in the entire 5 mile radius of my residence, the bus routes, and even called Big Blue to complain about the 50 cent increase which would mean an ADDITIONAL DOLLAR spent on my cupcake run. Nooooooooo. Unacceptable! Then, I found La Provence Cafe (supposedly the best Red Velvet in LA according to many Yelpers). Only a 10 minute bus ride and a 1 minute walk from there!!! PERFECTION! So with that settled, I went on to consider the other parts of my life, bodily imperfections, and things I was lacking. like a piano keyboard for example. I went on to research hundreds of models, price comparisons, sustain pedals, stands, chairs, THE WORKS. It was like planning a wedding but WORSE, cuz.....

I didn't even end up buying anything. And eventually fell asleep at 8:00am with 13 different tabs on piano sheet music open in my browser.

End of my insomniatic retardation. Hallucinations of changing my life often occur at these times. Sometimes it's when I have the most unexpected, creative epiphanies, but most of the time, I become paranoid about everything in the world, even genocide and AIDS in Africa, as if the world is about to collapse the next day.

Sooo, waking up 5 hours later, I decided I was insane and didn't pursue my foodie fantasy. But I did go to the library! And I got this to show for it...



It takes a lot for me to say "I like you so much, I think I'll read your biography."
But that's also why you're reading my blahg. hehe :D

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Bloggggging

Editing HTML and CSS by hand in blogger classic is a pain in the ashhh. Why can't I be normal and use a cool template? Well, then I would just a product of someone else's creativity and a plagiarist. One day I'll join the millions who cave in and go with Blogger 2.0, but I'm kind of old school, I believe in long division.

The last post was a lil on the lengthy side and deserves to be squashed beneath a new happier one! I love life, I love lying on my stomach and typing with one hand like I am currently doing, and I love lobsters. Anyone who dares look down upon that will get a lobster in his/her pantalones.

My favorite new "dive" (such a Yelpy word with such retro inspiration, and absolutely no relevancy in modern culture!) is......drumroll please.............


Whole Foods. Why didn't I discover you sooner, oh holy one? The juicy mango samplings that I heartily gorged down without a hint of employee disapproval, the nice rotisserie chicken man who gave me an entire chicken wing so I could sample it. I lathered on the aromatherapeutic lotions and antiwrinkle serums on my hands. Whiffed every candle scent imaginable. Waikiki Pukika?? I don't know, but it smelled like a fruit party in my nose. The fresh macaroons, fresh papaya, fresh...I never would even crave these things if not for the freshness I unearthed in this ORGANIC HEAVEN.

I purchased a small cup of thick clam chowder and finished with a nice crunchy samosa after my thorough exploration of the site. Dayum. It hit the spot.

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This is me - Not "Camp Rock"-style

If you really want to read this, adjust your screen font type aka press Ctrl and "+". Here goes another random stream of consciousness blahg post.

If reading this seems like a tedious, pointless waste them skip to the bottom where you can view the results of my current nerd phase.

I've made my share of mistakes, but experience has taught me to turn all these regrets into empowerment for my future endeavors. We live and we learn, right? But is this just talk and not action? I think so. I'm just as fragile as the starry-eyed 9 year old girl I was ten years ago.

So sideways, I'll run to that shining beacon in the distance, I'll fall on the floor, get trampled on, but I'll get up, trudge on blindly, and unleash a healthy can of whoopass on anyone who tries to stop me...What in the world? Who does this? Superwoman? A deaf and dumb dimwit with a juicy steak as his guiding light?

Some authoritative article told me that the top entrepreneurs with the highest salary had a 1.9 GPA average in college, I call that wasting your education..aka dimwitted...and yet each of them gets his juicy steak. And yet, a hardworking girl whose self-respect is deteriorating from the lack of respect given to her, is heading toward a path of destruction.

Respect is not earned, nor should it be expected, it's a conditional, frictional, sonuva-b, that keeps me in a cycle of defensiveness, the superficially thickened exterior duking it out with my traditional principle of "saving face".

People can respect you on certain terms, that change, all the frickin time. I can't live for other people, but I need to feel respected or maybe in a way..."accepted". Ew, I digress, this is not high school "pubescent angst".

I'd like to think I'll stay happy, I'll stay young, but I can't stop change. It's undeniable. The inevitabilities of the world, the elevated awareness that follows me everywhere I go, is like a ball-and-chain, slowly draining me of optimism, keeping me from exerting my full potential.

I'm not always Plath-like, or emo (for lack of a better word)...looking at old pictures made me realize how quickly I've changed, but no change has stayed permanent, and it seems more like I've been assuming roles that didn't suit me, but I so wanted to be that person, thinking once I put on the chicken costume, I'll find my true happiness.

No, instead, I just felt silly, awkward, as if I was living in someone else's skin. And when someone criticized me in those moments, it was an frustrating out of body experience. I could not explain myself, cuz I couldn't recite anything beyond the cliche that I had rehearsed as part of the "act".

Folk music is now my sweet remedy. It takes me back to the past when things were simple, and makes me believe I am in my own skin, that I know myself better than the next person.

But take out the earphones, and I'm mad. Mad at the criticisms I didn't deserve, because frankly, I didn't learn to be a better person from these people. I learned to loathe and harness ill will for people who killed my pride and for things I couldn't control. Suddenly the phrase "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" is my reality.

Maybe it's easy for you to forget, "not care" or "be strong", but frankly that's the benefit of being naturally ignorant, you roll with the punches, you swallow thumbtacks with a smile, you're almost born without emotional nerve endings, but I have too many of those and I'd gladly donate a few to you. Like I've told my grandpa, when he lectures me on the very opposite of survival tactics in Western society: I'd rather be blind. It's better to see the world through cloudy lenses where everything is hazy and glorified, than to live with the painful disappointment of clarity. Blissful ignorance is the key to happiness...and life.

Thus, I've made my point... in the form of a circle, or rather an infinite black hole, however you want to look at it. I'm aware...I make things more complicated than they have to be.


Astigmatism sounds like a venereal disease.

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Eat pray love

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'Cuz LOVING to EAT is not enough. Eat Pray Love's a book I have yet to read, but that's not point. The author Elizabeth Gilbert was on Oprah yesterday. Quick synopsis: she had just gotten out of a bad divorce and decided she would go on a path of rediscovery and take time for herself by traveling the world. She hit Italy, India, basically all the countries that begin with the letter "I". If she could do it, well gosh darn it, so can I. My adventure begins with a trip to the LA public library, I'll hit Rite Aid for a little cultural awakening with the hobos outside. And she since got to eat pizza in Naples, I'll eat my Hot Pocket. Time to connect with my spiritual side. Om.

The current "disgust"...dirty sponges. They reek of mold, and who would use something like that to wash their plates? Microwave your damn sponge! Kill that bacteria! Down with mildew!

"Disgust" #2, I scratched the iPod shuffle I just got in the mail yesterday. I want to encrust it with those shiny crystal embellishments now, but then again, I don't want to bling it out, I just want that ugly scratch to go away. Rrggg. And stickers would just cheapify it.

Why so disgusted?

Diagnosis: Post-Labor (Day) Depression, I want to rest, but I have 2 finals next week and until then, more learning about how war is beneficial to society.

Down with warmongering, bring back the hippies!

Goodbye for now, I'm about to embark on my Elysian journey. Oh yeah, there's an Élysée café near by...it's meant to be!

I shall be as free as this little child romping about at Élysée Palace :)



*UPDATE: So my local escapade has come to a finish, and I'm proud to say I've reached most of my destinations. I've been out for 2 hours, brought back a few souvenirs (aka clearance items) and most importantly I've "found myself". Well, kind of. More likely it's the hallucinations I get from walking in the heat while wearing black.

Okay, I shall bid adieu. I've got to repatch my lil iPod with some rhinestones I bought at the Asian gift store! Thank sexy Jesus for Asian gift stores in the middle of nowhere!

**UPDATE #2: This post is already long enough, so why not make it longer! Just had to squeeze in this piece of ear candy. This guy is so talented, I officially have an ear-crush on him. Don't judge.

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