50 Things to do Before I Die

Yeah. I’m not having much fun learning about hybridization and ionic bonds so I was thinking about making a list like this. I always wanted to so no time better than now, yah?  Okay, so here it goes, but in no particular order:

1. Eat papayas without holding my nose shut.
2. Learn to cook French cuisine, and maybe even creme brulee.
3. Build a solid igloo in the snow for once that will not collapse on me when I go sit in it.
4. Have an extensive vocabulary, using words like ‘qat’ and whatnot, so I can easily confuse people and get them to acquiesce to almost anything (:
5. Learn how to play the guitar, preferably acoustic. Drums won’t be bad either.
6. Speak fluent Russian.
7. Be able to shove down a teaspoonful of wasabi along with my sushi and not end up crying.
8. In reference to number 7, be able to eat sashimi without cringing along with that wasabi.
9. Visit every country in the world, especially the run-down ones that I didn’t even know existed, and befriend all the natives.
10. Go three days without food or juices, just water.
11. Learn how to ballroom dance.
12. Attend an exquisite party at the Met, preferably in a MiuMiu dress arm in arm with my dashing, successful hubby.
13. Design a portion of my own wardrobe and actually wear it on a daily basis.
14. Along with number 13, concoct an interior design scheme for my own house and have it presentable to guests.
15. Take a road trip to all fifty states.
16. Stand at a nice height of 5′10″ and weigh a dandy 115 lbs
17. Be able to compile a lengthy book of personal philosophical theories, including a long chapter dedicated to defining love and life.
18. Have a normal biological clock that permits sleep from 10 pm to 8 am.
19. Talk to either the President or UN Secretary General one on one.
20. Wean myself off of coffee and learn to cope with the lack of Starbucks five feet away.
21. Be able to fake a nice Irish/Scottish/British accent.
22. Bungee jump off the Golden Gate Bridge.
23. Muster up the guts to tell my some of my family that I do love them.
24. Learn how to play poker (shame, I know)
25. Adopt a kid. After getting married, of course.
26. Do four pirouettes in a row and not fall on my face.
27. Go on a reality TV show.
28. Ride bareback on horses up this mountain in the motherland that’s really pretty.
29. Six-figure salary please.
30. Finally settle on one favorite flavor of ice cream.
31. Find three words to describe myself, so next time when I have to fill out a stupid questionairre on “Describe yourself in three words” I won’t be the idiot looking at their paper like a retard.
32. Watch the stars or the sunrise on a rooftop.
33. Promenade in Central Park while it’s snowing.
34. Watch a horror movie on my own without pissing my pants or hiding under my blanket until someone comes to save me.
35. Be an internationally known runway model.
36. And hopefully number 35 will come with posing for the cover of Vogue or Elle.
37. Publish an article in the New York Times.
38. Maintain a clean room for a time span longer than a month.
39. Stop losing my socks behind the washing machine/dryer.
40. Read the entire Bible
41. Find a way to tell the difference between Chinese/Japanese/Korean, Viet/Korean, and Thai/Filipino
42. Learn how to ski/snowboard.
43. Go one month in public without makeup.
44. Take part in a mosh pit.
45. Explain my theology on baptism and maybe, hence the maybe, get baptized if reasonable reasons are given.
46. Get a tattoo. Then remove it after my mother beats me with a broom.
47. Rid my fear of acting.
48. Participate in a rally or campaign.
49. Die young.
50. Drive at an insane speed by myself on the deserts of Arizona.

the precious escape.

"I was confused.

Everyone was talking to me,and I couldn't understand a word they were saying.
Then their voices became a blur and soon I couldn't even recognize their faces.
They were like these blobs.
Then they started to grow fangs and their eyes became green.
I knew I had to run away.
I packed my knapsack,got on the train, looked up at the map,and decided that I wanted to live in Coney Island.
I thought it was gonna be a real island and I could hide away there like Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.
Imagine my surprise.
The Teacups was the only ride they'd let me on by myself.
I got on it and started spinning myself round and round.
I feel like I'm still there, spinning round and round and round, and the ride won't stop.
And I won't dare get off." -Uptown Girls

I wouldn't mind a ride like that.
and for once, brittany murphy actually speaks some truth.
i really have to stop indulging in chick flicks when i should be outlining french history.
i wonder who actually reads this thing.

 

Happy 2007!

So it’s 2007. Big whoopideedoo. Nothing feels different (except maybe it’s a bit warmer), but then again, every year starts out feeling exactly the same as the preceding one and evolves into a year completely unexpected and unforeseen. But that’s life, so whatever.

Sitting alone at 2 in the morning waiting for the sun to come up on Christmas Day gave me some time to think back on 2006 as a whole. What the hell was I thinking when I did all the things I did? Would it have been different if I changed just one of the words I said? What should I have done? Who am I? etc. etc. Everything just seems like such a drag. Every move I make leads me to a dead end and I have to wearily stagger back to start over again. I love how I play the game of facades so well; I’ve fooled everyone into believing me to be a happy, ditzy, flirty, materialistic young sophomoron when really, I’ve gone through a lifetime that has left me broken, doubtful, insecure, and depressed, a lifetime no one would comprehend and has taught me to understand things that no one would expect a fifteen year old to understand.

After spending winter break in Chicago listening to the broken record-like messages of pastors alike and knowing exactly where they were going with their messages, I had more time to question my own faith than to actually try and learn something new.
I’m one of those people that feed off of instant gratification. To believe something and be satisfied, I need it to be tangible, to be able to be felt with by the five senses or else I give up. No doubt, I believe in God, but sometimes when I’m at the low of my lows and I’m praying, it seriously gets so frustrating cus it feels like I’m talking to myself or maybe even just the wall. There hasn’t been any major prayers that have been answered, even ones I’ve been praying for over 10 years, and the minor ones that have been answered I can’t help but to think “Oh, I just got lucky, that’s just coincidence, doesn’t necessarily have to be God.” My faith is dwindling and the condescending, judgmental atmosphere at church nowadays really doesn’t help. But I guess with time that’ll be fixed as soon as I stop being so cynical and force myself to be a little more trusting.

On a different aspect, the conference was like a slap in the face to me reminding me of how introverted and lonely I really was despite the number of friends I have on Facebook or on my buddy list. I found myself so scared to approach new people and how afraid I was that they’d judge me, but after awhile I was like Okay, if they judge me, they’ll judge my cover, not my true self. but that didn’t help. I thought back to how school was and then it’s like yeah i say hi to everyone in the halls but narrow it down and how many people do I really trust? Maybe 1. Maybe 2. And when I’m lucky, 3. But even then I can’t really even trust them cus they still don’t understand, but that’s life so maybe I should stop whining.

Jersey and everything in it sucks and I’m tired of the people, the cliche-ness, the cliques, the materialistic-ness you have to have in order to fit in, and the fake fake fake fake personalities. I can’t wait to get out of here and into college where people have no preconcieved notions about you and you can just start from scratch.

Anyways, back to New Year’s. For once I actually have resolutions. Hehehe.

1) No AIM/Facebook/Myspace/etc. until 7:00 unless it’s weekend/break
2) Sleep before 2 am on schooldays
3) Lose 10 pounds haha
4) Limit shopping to once a month
5) Decrease my boy-crazyness

Yeah I’ll probably break all of them by next week but that’s okay! It’s the thought that counts..:)
Cheers to makign 2007 better than what 2006 ever was (it should be…considering democrats have control in Congress now) !

He may be mad, but there’s method in his madness. There nearly always is method in madness. It’s what drives men mad, being methodical. –G.K. Chesterton

the golden rule of life

rely on no one.

me and you.

yeah so it’s been a while since that day. but you know what. you know what your excuse what and i know it too, yet you still thought i was too stupid to figure out you were bluffing me all along.  no one “loses interest” in girls. thats just gay, which you probably are too but that’s a different story all together. seriously–excuse my french–fuck you. the only reason why im even your friend now is because i have some level of respect for your parents, even if i have none for you. i don’t even want to see your face again. i don’t even want to hear a word out of your mouth ever again. don’t ever call me because as of now, you are labelled “don’t pick up the phone” and yeah, i wont’. don’t ever pull off something like this again. and i hope that if shes as stupid as you are and follows you, that the two of you will have a nice time together. don’t ever even ask me what the weather is. just leave me be, and trust me-you will never hear from me again.  have a nice life.

mediocrity.

some people classify mediocrity as a pleasurable thing, thinking that being average is better than being distinguished or being notoriously unknown, but im so sick of being ‘just average’ or ’second-best’. now before i say anything, i must confess i have an extremely competitive nature-whether it be fighting over guys or fighting over who gets what color skittle, i want to win. ever since first grade i had to being dealing with the whole not number one thing. i wasn’t my best friend’s number one friend, why? because i was asian. she was white. of course, i could only be her second best friend. my teacher absolutely adored me because not only was i asian, but because i was the youngest perfectionist she’d ever encountered, but because she was asian and i was asian, making me the teacher’s pet would be obviously unfair. so i was the teacher’s second pet. i was never the smartest kid in the class, but always the one people came to for homework help; always hung out with the reigning posse in fifth grade, but never became the most popular one. there was this one girl i competed with since third grade for everything–athleticism, academics, and social status–and she always turned out the best no matter how hard i tried. hence the dramatic student council president victory by a measly 10 votes. i kind of let it drift away after a while and just let myself be happy with being average, but now, it’s kinda bugging me again. okay so here’s where i start to become extremely superficial. it’s hard not being the prettiest, yet having friends that are absolutely gorgeous, not being the skinniest, yet having friends that are naturally skin and bones, not being the smartest, yet having friends who easily ace all their honors classes, and not being the richest, but having friends that can go into a store and pick whatever they damn well please. these things are probably the least of what a lot of people worry about, but i guess it’s in some people’s personalities to strive for absolute perfection, and if they don’t reach it, they become utterly frustrated. i’ve been subject to the same standards and same expectations as someone who is the best as something, and i have to work twice as hard to get to something that someone could have achieved with their eyes closed. to a lot of people, mediocrity is natural and doesn’t bother them at all, so good for them! but seriously. there is no greater frustration then aiming for the best, and resulting with something marginally satisfactory.

its october!

so it’s the tenth month of the year. great? i don’t really like october. sure the leaves are fun to crunch when you stroll home, but without october in our calendar, september and november would still have enough leaves as is. anyways. october is just a funny name. everyone knows the prefix ‘oct’ means eight, but what does october have to do with eight? nothing. and it’s such an uneventful month (unless you’re jewish). september we have school starting, november we have thanksgiving, december is christmas and hanukkah, january is the new year, february theres valentines day and the occasional 29 days, march we have st. patrick’s day, april has april fool’s day, or for asians, SAT day, may has memorial weekend aka huge sales, june is the end of school, july is independence day, and august is the month of summer math/reading. yet what is october? nothing! therefore, i don’t like it.

yeah totally pointless entry.

over and out.

school has just been in session for three weeks and im about to break down. two breakdowns in two weeks? so ridiculous.
it seems like a vicious cycle that all of us children must submit ourselves to. work then eat then sleep then work then eat then sleep and orange blinking boxes with little yellow men become our only comfort; our only familiarity until we must turn back to reading about imaginary numbers that don’t exist yet truly exist because we can define them.
sometimes it seems like life is an imaginary number, almost nonexistant but we know it definitely exists.
im so apathetic towards all that goes on right now. i barely care that im muffled with homework from 2:47 to 12:13 every day, i barely care that the amount of sleep i get is insignificant compared to the hours i spend doing homework, and i barely care that the three hours of work i put into something can turn out to be just a measly ‘C’.
so why care.
it’s like we’ve been sucked into this vortex where all society knows is ‘work’ and ’success’ and ‘discipline’. no one knows how to ‘live’. since when have my guilty pleasures consisted of reading novels and eating croissants? how about never.
schoolwork put aside though.
where is the rationale that parents are right no matter what. why can’t a child question their mother or father’s action with being reprimanded? isn’t it our right to understand why our parents treat us the way they do and receive a legitimate answer then rightfully state their point of view.
i have spent many dinners trying to explain basic common courtesy to my parents, and i left those dinners fuming and hungry. i don’t understand why you’d force your child to go to church two times a week at the exact same times every single week, and then proceed to punish them if they didn’t. religion, first of all, is a voluntary belief in something, and though should be important in life, shouldn’t rule over a child’s health or business factor. i had to go to church for those two days in one week, manipulating 6-7 hours of my time, listening to a preacher preach about finances (irrelevant much?) and watch little eighth graders slap eachother in the ass. if i go to church, i go because i need sanctuary, because i need relief, because i want to–not because i am forced. often i have gone to church and wondered what the hell i was doing there when i was nursing a 101 fever or desperate to study for finals or about to faint from an accumulated 6 hours of sleep in one week. parents don’t expect their children to submit to these requirements when they can barely function on a day-to-day basis. sure you can always refute “it’s good for you!”, but is it really good to see me wilted 24/7 and about to pass out? maybe it’s amusing for her.
now social-wise.
what kind of a friend tells you continuously you are indeed her best friend, yet

a) lies to you about once every day
b) constantly tries to uphold her self as the better one of you two
c) takes up the freedom of telling a popular girl everything on her mind, including the fact that you aren’t her best friend, just to increase her ‘popularity’.

right.
no one does that. okay? espeicallly if it involves a semi-ex that used you like they did. i really don’t care if she told me straight out ‘hey i like him a lot’ but twisting words and weaving tales to appease me and tell a quasi-truth is far from satisfactory. and not my best friend? ouch. go fall down a hole bitch. frame me three years ago for your own benefit, use me for schoolwork and climbing up the social ladder, then like a vulture swoop down to attack my leftover testosterone, and lie to me? please honey, did your mother teach you anything? are you that desperate? are you freaking cold-blooded?!

but really. in the end what does anything matter? so i sit alone on saturday afternoons listening to mellow jazz music drinking hazelnut coffee by the potful, but that ain’t so bad is it? to transition from one extreme of the world to the other, going from beloved and wanted to misunderstood and avoided, isn’t so bad. is it?
in the end what does it matter?

school will end in 169 days, these people will soon never be seen again within two years, and parents will be a nuisance of the past by senior year.
what really matters?
oh nothing really. besides the fact that this is only a taste of what the future will be like.

for the rest of your life.