Fifty Four

This past month,

I have been trying to blog regularly–two posts week–to retain my ability to write and publish before I become a sketching robot for a big company. I’m following WordPress’s daily prompts, and today’s word is “subdued.” WordPress has not been the relaxed social media and blogging platform that Xanga was, but daily prompts provide some semblance of a community. So here goes:

Being subdued in American culture has a bad rap for being unimaginative and average, and I have experienced the benefits of being subdued and the hard life of not being subdued. Whenever I subdue or limit myself, I go beyond what I expected to do and end up being proud of myself. It is only when I lose control and fail to subdue my grandiose expectation for what I deserve and how I deserve to be treated that I end up a wreck and hate everything around me.

I never subdue my thoughts, but I’ve learned to subdue my behavior. When I didn’t, that is when I end up withdrawing from college, seeking new interest, and having to start over again. Even now, I have a hard time subduing my anger when getting feedback from my teachers who don’t acknowledge what I actually did right. I never know what I’m doing right, and when someone tells me I’m doing one thing wrong, my immediate reaction is that I am doing everything wrong. When that happens, I have learned to subdue myself with a wry smile and express my desperation for approval by throwing whatever I am holding in my hand on the table before I fix my mistakes. When I do subdue my expectations for how I do, I usually end up doing better than I thought.

I think I finally learned that concept when I was in Denmark for two months. Danes’ culture have The Law of Jante, where you should not expect to be better than others and set low expectations that are easy to reach. There was this feeling of people appreciating and taking advantage of what they have regardless of what they could afford. Living there would make me redefine the word “subdued” as “low-key.” Regardless of my internet temper tantrums, my mental health this semester is golden solely due to my expectation of earning no higher than a B in every class. Whenever my jealousy gets the better of me, I remind myself: Be the best “B” student there is, and everything becomes okay.



Forty Five

Since an hour ago,

I only had 373 days before I graduate from this school early and begin my life with my boyfriend. As you can probably tell, I like counting things, but once I reach post number a hundred on this blog, I want to put my blogging on a countdown to the days I get out of here on a non-anonymous blog (hm… I might be prepping for it right now. No one will ever know). This is so my remaining posts on here aren’t garbage like the last one, and because I can’t link any of these posts to my new blog in any way. Some things have to end, and before I end this, I’m going to dump all awful secrets of my life on here that I can only do anonymously. I can’t be that depressed girl running a secret, anonymous blog writing about things that I don’t want anyone I know to know about for the rest of my life. I’ve changed too much over the course of the one year to see that this isn’t the only way to publish myself.

I am happy now. Yes, I’ve been through some serious mental shit, and I know my limits now. But since I’ve learned what it’s like to work for something I truly want—someone I love, happiness, sunshine, and a family—I literally have nothing to complain about except for why I could never feel happy in California, and why I could never feel happy in Massachusetts. It’s because I never had this purpose or drive behind me, or I guess, the power of love to be very very cheese.

Still though. There are so many bad things that I haven’t vomited on here, and I can’t say horrible secrets once I reach 100 posts, which is supposedly when I start acting like a real adult and keep these complaints to myself. I mean, once I start an apartment, a job, a family, using a blog to dwell on all the bad things like I have this whole time is so unhealthy and restricting. I want the world to see my happy face, my accomplishments, and my precious notebooks. In other reason, I also found a reason to keep bad thoughts to myself in handwritten diaries, which I’ve grown a habit of writing by now.

I hope I can make these last few posts count.



I understand that I haven’t been updating lately, because I have spent the past week getting ready for my semester in the East Coast. Specifically, a town with lots of nature (a.k.a. the middle the nowhere) in Massachusetts. Other than officially renewing my hate for cold weather, I also renewed my love for my friends. They welcomed me back with big hugs and admiration for my beautifully color coordinated and settled-in room.

I’m also impressed at how well I’m integrating outside of my friend group. Other than my shunned smiles to people who were in my classes the semester I withdrew, I am more direct and sincere. For example, my biology professor really embarrassed a student who totally took his teasing in stride, but any other student would have stormed out of the room in tears. Afterward in the elevator, I gave her a sympathetic smile and pat on the shoulder, “He was really tough today!” I let my guard down and smiled everywhere for everyone in this cold, gloomy weather. I even smile at the grumpy cats who shun me, because they are either embarrassed to acknowledge me or they are just have a bad day. I prefer to take advantage of their silence and comfortably assume they are just having a rough day.

However, in my classes and when taking care of business, I ignore everyone like crazy. In fact, I might even look a little crazy, because if I meet a competitive person who makes me a little insecure about myself, I’d hum and look around like I’m a curious 5 year old. That behavior reminds me of my own contentedness and how I can further develop my openness and kindness through action instead of self-consciously wondering what others think of me.

After this week, I should be able to get into a flexible routine that will allow me to blog. Maybe I won’t be blogging as regularly as before, and the numbers are never going to match up the dates after Friday. Still, at least I’m blogging right? Hum de dum…