Fifty Six

For just a little update,

It’s nearly three in the morning, and I refuse to beat myself for my sleep. No, I’m beating myself up for something else (because why else would I be writing here again?).

Sometimes, in art school, I have this sudden panic that I’m not fulfilling my full potential of being someone smarter with a science degree. I learned in art school I am damn good at sketching, drawing, designing, and even writing, but I literally have panic attacks when I encounter something related to science. All my memories flood back leaving me trying to pick up what was left by obsessively reading Nature articles and understanding none of it. It is just like before. I become frustrated and regretful and read even more, looking up terms I don’t have to know anymore on Wikipedia and still not understanding those damn papers. I was used to do this when I was a science major, but now that I had a bad breakup with my last major, that habit usually comes with a pang in my stomach and near asphyxiation. I feel like I have a combination of Alzheimer’s and PTSD symptoms where I am afraid of recognizing the words and figures that caused me so much self-hatred and doubt. Then, I would feel lost when I realize I really forgot them.

Deep down, I have this secret dream that I shot down when I didn’t believe I could do it. I have a secret dream of becoming a doctor. When I was in high school, I had a turbulent personal life and used to print out the Hippocratic Oath and tape it to my wall. Now, through all the withdrawals and “adventures”,  I might be a different kind of doctor whose path to medicine is more curved than the usual “track.” I want to be the doctor who lived a great life and found great love before serving life, death, and wellness. I want to be a doctor who can draw and sing, the type that can tell when patients are thirsty or too cold, or scared or excited. Whenever I look at the possibilities of maybe going back to regular studying and using some of my old science credits to take a shot at medical school, I have this secret smile, because I know, as a designer, I am learning what it means to care for people by creating for them. Then, I am happy, because that girl who used to read the Hippocratic Oath to herself everyday gets a hug.


Forty Two

After a night out with my friends and myself,

I’m feeling cranky as fuck. I went out with my friend to an Asian fusion restaurant where I accidentally ordered something not vegetarian and had to give it to my friend. Then I agreed to get boba afterwards — the SoCal Asian American way to lift the mood and get acquainted — because she also invited this other friend who I barely knew. And after those series of bad decisions, especially since I’m slightly sick with a sore throat and headache, I decided to go off on my own and get some Ricola. And of course, I got distracted and wandered into a few shops, but I didn’t buy anything, which is progress.

I walked into the room and saw what was wrong: My desk and floor are covered with clothes, books, papers, and everything else I didn’t bother to pick up. Three apples are still on my shelf, because I was too lazy to wash them. My mooncake box is sitting there with two uneaten mooncakes that I can’t possibly digest on my own. I also feet pretty fat, which is strange, because I worked out more in the past week than I have all summer. Oh yea, it’s because I just dropped my yoga class.

Then there are my readings, just piling up on me. I know it’s only, let’s see, four to five hours of reading to do before next Monday, because I could barely get through my biology notes yesterday from being so tired. I was so good the past week until two days ago. I kept up with everything, but now every little thing is stressing me out again. Maybe it’s just me taking on too many big commitments: long distance, becoming treasurer of a club, and being on my house council, but that’s what Junior year is for. Junior year: growing the fuck up before it’s too late.

Later this evening, I realized that it’s because I’m trying to balance one more commitment. Before, it was just friends, and schoolwork, and Hulu. Hulu could wait. Hulu wasn’t a person who loves me with 100% of his heart, and I can pause Hulu whenever I wanted. My boyfriend however, isn’t television. He may seem like it, since he’s just in my computer screen in this painfully long distance relationship, but I don’t feel an absence when a TV show isn’t on like I do when I’m not Skyping with my beloved.

Also, I wasn’t taking my vitamins, and I was in denial that the weather’s getting colder and let a cold sneak up on me. I need to take better care of myself, and take back my friends, my work, and my moments alone instead of becoming so dependent on my boyfriend. He’s great. Wonderful, even. But my friends are right, I cannot be consumed by him. Well, okay, at least I can not Skype with him for more than one hour a day. Today was what? One and half? Two hours? Yeesh. It’s hard to say goodnight to that man, but I’ll try my best for my best friends, who helped me make it this far.

Thirty One

It must be that time of the day,

Because I can hardly motivate myself to blow dry my hair, pick up my things, clear my desk, and prepare myself for another hectic week. However, today wasn’t so bad. I actually finished something today and got started on my 10 page double spaced paper (aka 5 pages single spaced). I exercised: 70 squats, 40 sit ups, 2 minutes of planks, and 20 hip extensions. It’s not much, but I’m starting to feel productive and sane again. Plus, I threw together a friend’s birthday present, which took probably three to four hours today in addition to waking up late. Maybe it’s because I’m starting to put a little passion into what I’m learning, because when I write a paper, I’m not satisfied until I put my heart and soul into it. This doesn’t mean, I’m going to slave over it day and night. It just means I’m going to put a little personality into a paper about science.

Speaking of science, I’m starting to not be overwhelmed by scientific papers. I read the reading for genetics today for an idea what it’s going to be about, and I didn’t feel confused or overwhelmed or stupid. It must be because I felt very patient with myself. I know I’m a slow reader, but when I read something carefully, I get it like that. I always hated that, because I wanted to be one of those geniuses who can just flip through academic papers and say something intelligent. I am always a quiet understander and a quiet questioner instead of a loud presenter. Even if I become one of those people, I still don’t be satisfied, because I would want to be the person who wrote the paper, who did the experiment that I’m speed reading about.

So even if I’m smart or whatever, I’ll be bad at acknowledging it. All I know how to do is mesh my actions with my interests and use them to fuel and form my dreams. I tell myself that I’m stupid, ignorant, and I have so much planned for my mind to consume. That is one of the many things keeping me from killing or cutting myself when something goes wrong either inside or outside of my head.  



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…