I have just finished watching the movie Serendipity and it made me have a little faith again. Actually, a few things happened today that made me have a little faith again.
First of all, this Asian guy in downtown Greenville handed me a Are You Going to Heaven or Hell pamphlet and it gave me hope that I will regain my faith in God again.
Secondly, the movie made me remember what love was all about. It isn't about lust or looks or who you're "most compatible with". It's just the way you feel about someone (and around that someone) that counts. Most of the time, this feeling's unexplainable, but I suppose that is the way it's supposed to be: unexplainable.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
All this music is giving me a headache
I think I need to give it a rest. I need to give my homework a rest, writing papers a rest, music a rest...myself a rest.
Aside from that, my day has been good. I got to Adv. Comp. on time today, and although nervous about not having a partner to trade papers with (since Melissa was not there), but it all worked out well since Stephen was willing to trade papers with me for peer review (thank goodness he's good at grammar; I wouldn't have been able to catch half of the errors he caught). I graded his paper too and either it's pretty much spotless or I'm just not that good at detecting things.
I could have skipped sociology though. It doesn't seem like we are going to go over anything new before the exam. The only thing I really learned was the shocking fact that at least 50% of Americans are under middle class (and hence, struggling somewhat to just make ends meet and even then, many still live in debt and destitution).
Stat class involved going over our exam. Imagine my surprise when I turned my test over to see the "100, Excellent" marked on it! I couldn't believe my good luck! Seriously, I couldn't believe it. I could have sworn that my grade was an 84 the last time I checked it in the online gradebook. Was it graded correctly? Had it not been for my overwhelming relief at the thought of finally doing well in a statistics class, I would have questioned my teacher as to the authenticity of the grade I had received.
Once I came back to the dorm, Melissa and I had a hour-long discussion about writing and literature . We rambled on and on about R.L. Stine, J.K. Rowling, Christopher Paolini, and J.R.R. Tolkien. All in all, good stuff. I was learning a lot and was glad to have someone to listen to my viewpoints too. Sadly, I had to cut the discussion short since I had an advising appointment at 1:40 p.m.
Raymark--he was my advisor. Melissas had been ecstatic to discover that and she dared me to tell him about his nickname at the end of the appointment. I told her I would.
1: 33 p.m. A few minutes early, but hey, that's always better than being late, I suppose. I entered his office and greeted him. Or rather, I stood outside his office and whispered, "Professor" through the crack in his door until he noticed me. It didn't take me long. Apparently, he had heard me on the first try since he turned around and told me to come in. I glanced at him as I entered. Hmm...kind of different since the last time I met him. He didn't look as tall now (probably on the account that he was sitting down) and he didn't seem as pink as usual. Paler, actually, but not a sickly looking pale. More like a vanilla flavored yogurt pale.
We exchanged a "How are you?" before I sat down and glanced around his office while he looked up my degree progress report. He had a lot of pictures of his kids (including the same picture of his son dressed in a lion costume as his desktop background). He also had many family pictures (one where his wife was photographed as well), and I noticed a picture to the far left of Professor Raymark in yellow shorts. (It looked as if he was running a marathon.) That's classic, I thought.
Finally, the meeting got under way and I was given plenty of good recommendations (among them were the recommendations to take social psychology or personality psychology should I not be able to register for the elusive Communications class). I also asked him the two questions and was surprised to find that my major required neither an internship or a specialization. He tole me that most people do an internship anyway but it's usually within the context of an applied class. The specialization I wouldn't need unless I was planning on going to graduate school (which I wasn't).
At the end of the meeting, I thanked him, stood up, and just before I left, I carried out Melissa's dare and told him how Melissa and I called him Professor Raymarkable. To my surprise, he actually laughed and said that Raymarkable was his younger brother's nickname at his workplace. Raymark was an easy name to manipulate, he said.
I left feeling thoroughly happy and was heading over to the amphitheatre to take pictures of people sleeping when I suddenly stopped. My purse wasn't with me! Oh dear...I thought as I hurried back to Brackett. Maybe I had left it in Raymark's office? I checked--not there. Great, I had left it back in my dorm then. Seeing as how I could do nothing further, I wandered sadly over to the reflection pond and sat for a while. The shade was chilly however so I moved over to the bench in front of the vending machines. On my way there, some guy on the second floor of the Daniel Hall balcony waved to me. I couldn't for the life of me figure out who he was. He was on the phone and I was pretty sure it was a white guy, but that was all I could tell for sure. Oh well, I shrugged, sitting down and plugging my earphones back in.
I sat there for a while enjoying my music and observing the people walking past (especially their shoes. It's weird but I pay a lot of attention to people's shoes). Matt Wilson walked by once (also on the phone) and waved hi to me as well. Aside from that, I didn't sit for long before somebody came up and scared the living daylights out of me. (And he didn't even do anything.)
"Hey Craig," I said, unplugging myself long enough to talk to him. He asked me why I was sitting here and I said that I was waiting for Melissa to come out of class so I could talk to her, but then I had remembered that Melissa had skipped class today so sadly, I was waiting for no one. Craig laughed. I then told him about the guy on the second floor (who was still up there and still on the phone, no less) that had waved hi to me. Craig looked up and told me that it was none other than Corey Buckley. Yes, fur hood-wearing Corey Buckley. Geesh, I never would have been able to tell. After that, we had a fun time talking about people behind their back. Professor Conway walked by at one point and I shouted hi as he walked passed. He turned around, confused for a while. Then he saw me, gave a sort of half wave, and said hi before he turned around and continued walking. I spent the whole time laughing and Craig just kept saying what a mean person I was. Unfortunately, I had to go to French class soon afterwards.
"We should do this more often," I told Craig as I got up.
"Do what?" he asked.
"Sit here and talk about people while they're still in earshot."
He gave another laugh as he headed back towards the dorm and I headed up the stairs.
French class was hard today. We had to conjugate...verbs. The good thing was I got to sign up to be a prompter for the poetry declamation on November 8th and Zan told us a funny joke.
"Le plus bel homme est...John McCain." That caused a riot.
Once French was done, I came back to the dorm and was about to read for anthropology when Melissa invited me to go to the Multi-cultural lounge in Hendrix with her, Tyler, and Craig.
I had to pack up so she told me to go to Craig's room when I was done. Apparently, I should have been in Craig's room anyway for when I came in five minutes later, Melissa was sprawled on the floor in pain.
"My boob's been ripped off!" she wailed. I looked around, expecting to find a mutilated chest appendage lying bloodied somewhere on the floor. No such thing. Apparently, Tyler was giving Melissa a piggy back ride and when he tried to throw her, she ended up on the floor with an injured boob instead. Ahhh, classic.
Craig came in soon after that and we had to explain the whole thing all over to him. I actually regret doing that for he wanted me to use the buddy system and "check up" on Melissa. I vehemently refused. The thought of touching girl boobs was just...ick.
Finally, when all was righted, we took the long walk to the Hendrix Student Center. I passed the time buytellingaig about Zan's joke and then spent the rest of the time annoying him by repeating everything he said in the form of a long, drawn-out question.
"That is one fat squirrel!"
"Squirrrrel?
After that, I...died.
Aside from that, my day has been good. I got to Adv. Comp. on time today, and although nervous about not having a partner to trade papers with (since Melissa was not there), but it all worked out well since Stephen was willing to trade papers with me for peer review (thank goodness he's good at grammar; I wouldn't have been able to catch half of the errors he caught). I graded his paper too and either it's pretty much spotless or I'm just not that good at detecting things.
I could have skipped sociology though. It doesn't seem like we are going to go over anything new before the exam. The only thing I really learned was the shocking fact that at least 50% of Americans are under middle class (and hence, struggling somewhat to just make ends meet and even then, many still live in debt and destitution).
Stat class involved going over our exam. Imagine my surprise when I turned my test over to see the "100, Excellent" marked on it! I couldn't believe my good luck! Seriously, I couldn't believe it. I could have sworn that my grade was an 84 the last time I checked it in the online gradebook. Was it graded correctly? Had it not been for my overwhelming relief at the thought of finally doing well in a statistics class, I would have questioned my teacher as to the authenticity of the grade I had received.
Once I came back to the dorm, Melissa and I had a hour-long discussion about writing and literature . We rambled on and on about R.L. Stine, J.K. Rowling, Christopher Paolini, and J.R.R. Tolkien. All in all, good stuff. I was learning a lot and was glad to have someone to listen to my viewpoints too. Sadly, I had to cut the discussion short since I had an advising appointment at 1:40 p.m.
Raymark--he was my advisor. Melissas had been ecstatic to discover that and she dared me to tell him about his nickname at the end of the appointment. I told her I would.
1: 33 p.m. A few minutes early, but hey, that's always better than being late, I suppose. I entered his office and greeted him. Or rather, I stood outside his office and whispered, "Professor" through the crack in his door until he noticed me. It didn't take me long. Apparently, he had heard me on the first try since he turned around and told me to come in. I glanced at him as I entered. Hmm...kind of different since the last time I met him. He didn't look as tall now (probably on the account that he was sitting down) and he didn't seem as pink as usual. Paler, actually, but not a sickly looking pale. More like a vanilla flavored yogurt pale.
We exchanged a "How are you?" before I sat down and glanced around his office while he looked up my degree progress report. He had a lot of pictures of his kids (including the same picture of his son dressed in a lion costume as his desktop background). He also had many family pictures (one where his wife was photographed as well), and I noticed a picture to the far left of Professor Raymark in yellow shorts. (It looked as if he was running a marathon.) That's classic, I thought.
Finally, the meeting got under way and I was given plenty of good recommendations (among them were the recommendations to take social psychology or personality psychology should I not be able to register for the elusive Communications class). I also asked him the two questions and was surprised to find that my major required neither an internship or a specialization. He tole me that most people do an internship anyway but it's usually within the context of an applied class. The specialization I wouldn't need unless I was planning on going to graduate school (which I wasn't).
At the end of the meeting, I thanked him, stood up, and just before I left, I carried out Melissa's dare and told him how Melissa and I called him Professor Raymarkable. To my surprise, he actually laughed and said that Raymarkable was his younger brother's nickname at his workplace. Raymark was an easy name to manipulate, he said.
I left feeling thoroughly happy and was heading over to the amphitheatre to take pictures of people sleeping when I suddenly stopped. My purse wasn't with me! Oh dear...I thought as I hurried back to Brackett. Maybe I had left it in Raymark's office? I checked--not there. Great, I had left it back in my dorm then. Seeing as how I could do nothing further, I wandered sadly over to the reflection pond and sat for a while. The shade was chilly however so I moved over to the bench in front of the vending machines. On my way there, some guy on the second floor of the Daniel Hall balcony waved to me. I couldn't for the life of me figure out who he was. He was on the phone and I was pretty sure it was a white guy, but that was all I could tell for sure. Oh well, I shrugged, sitting down and plugging my earphones back in.
I sat there for a while enjoying my music and observing the people walking past (especially their shoes. It's weird but I pay a lot of attention to people's shoes). Matt Wilson walked by once (also on the phone) and waved hi to me as well. Aside from that, I didn't sit for long before somebody came up and scared the living daylights out of me. (And he didn't even do anything.)
"Hey Craig," I said, unplugging myself long enough to talk to him. He asked me why I was sitting here and I said that I was waiting for Melissa to come out of class so I could talk to her, but then I had remembered that Melissa had skipped class today so sadly, I was waiting for no one. Craig laughed. I then told him about the guy on the second floor (who was still up there and still on the phone, no less) that had waved hi to me. Craig looked up and told me that it was none other than Corey Buckley. Yes, fur hood-wearing Corey Buckley. Geesh, I never would have been able to tell. After that, we had a fun time talking about people behind their back. Professor Conway walked by at one point and I shouted hi as he walked passed. He turned around, confused for a while. Then he saw me, gave a sort of half wave, and said hi before he turned around and continued walking. I spent the whole time laughing and Craig just kept saying what a mean person I was. Unfortunately, I had to go to French class soon afterwards.
"We should do this more often," I told Craig as I got up.
"Do what?" he asked.
"Sit here and talk about people while they're still in earshot."
He gave another laugh as he headed back towards the dorm and I headed up the stairs.
French class was hard today. We had to conjugate...verbs. The good thing was I got to sign up to be a prompter for the poetry declamation on November 8th and Zan told us a funny joke.
"Le plus bel homme est...John McCain." That caused a riot.
Once French was done, I came back to the dorm and was about to read for anthropology when Melissa invited me to go to the Multi-cultural lounge in Hendrix with her, Tyler, and Craig.
I had to pack up so she told me to go to Craig's room when I was done. Apparently, I should have been in Craig's room anyway for when I came in five minutes later, Melissa was sprawled on the floor in pain.
"My boob's been ripped off!" she wailed. I looked around, expecting to find a mutilated chest appendage lying bloodied somewhere on the floor. No such thing. Apparently, Tyler was giving Melissa a piggy back ride and when he tried to throw her, she ended up on the floor with an injured boob instead. Ahhh, classic.
Craig came in soon after that and we had to explain the whole thing all over to him. I actually regret doing that for he wanted me to use the buddy system and "check up" on Melissa. I vehemently refused. The thought of touching girl boobs was just...ick.
Finally, when all was righted, we took the long walk to the Hendrix Student Center. I passed the time buytellingaig about Zan's joke and then spent the rest of the time annoying him by repeating everything he said in the form of a long, drawn-out question.
"That is one fat squirrel!"
"Squirrrrel?
After that, I...died.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
From the street urchin
I don't really know what a street urchin is, but it sounds yummy...
Anyway, here I am again for another dishing out of my daily adventures.
Today was Sunday. And that means church. And church means depression. Well, except for today. My face looked especially horrendous today and yet it made me realize something while I was sitting in the pew, barely listening to the father preach about the "truly important things in life." What I realized was that happiness comes from within. I don't know what made me feel like this but I was thinking about how my life would be different if I was a confident, attractive girl and I just imagined myself smiling more and being happier. Strangely enough, thoughts like that did make me smile more and I was happier. Happiness comes from within, I was telling myself.
That was when I remembered two things I had read, one was in my dad's psychology textbook and it said that if good looks, wealth, fame, and success equalled happiness, then Halle Berry must be the happiest person on the planet. Yet even she goes through divorce, depression, and other problems. That put things into perspective for me. The second thing was something I read from a book I checked out of the library this weekend. It had a quote from actress Jamie Lee Curtis that said: "I"m not saying I don't exercise or that I don't suck in my stomach. But I won't go on an insane diet or go to the gym for four hours to change what nature intended. The biggest lesson is that nothing on the exterior will make me feel better. It may seem that way for a short time, but those feelings of inadequacy will [re]surface."
If two famous, successful, and good-looking women like that have to go through a lot of the same problems I do, then hey, maybe there really isn't anything as a perfect person or a perfect lifestyle out there. Maybe...maybe happiness comes from somewhere else.
Secondly, I want to list the remainder of my day (yeah, I know--so thrilling.) After church came lunch and hours of homework. Then my father came home from his nail technician class and we got ready for my return to Clemson. My mom packed up all the food she had cooked for me this week (I love home-cooked meals!), I myself packed up, and we headed back to Clemson, leaving my brother to his computer and facebook addictions.
Luckily, we passed a pumpkin patch near Dodge's Chicken Store (which is actually where my father stopped to get gas for the car) and I reminded my parents to stop by a store so I can buy a pumpkin for Josh and Matt's BYOP party.
We originally went to Bi-Lo since my mom had seen some inexpensive pumpkins there, but they turned out to be a disappointment (both in price and appearance) so we zipped on over to the neighboring Wal-Mart to get a pumpkin there instead. I picked out a mostly round, slightly elliptical pumpkin and then my mom and I went to pay for it. Unfortunately, the pumpkin had no bar code or label so we asked this guy Marvin to help us instead. (He had the coolest haircut! Close-trimmed with all of these curly designs in it...If I had a camera with me, I would have asked to take his picture.)
Anyhoo, I finally had my pumpkin (which I aptly and very nerdily named Pumpkin) and I was planning to let it sit in my lap on the car ride over, but my mom said not to cling to it and my dad ended up putting poor Pumpkin into the trunk with the rest of my things.
Well, we got back to Clemson okay and my mom was actually surprised when she realized that we were already there. She had fallen asleep shortly after we said the rosary, but my dad's noisy comment rudely woke her up.
My parents helped me carry my things to the dorm and of which I am very grateful, but knowing their anal personalities, they thought that the position of the rug in the room just wouldn't do and promptly set to work, moving around things and straightening it out. Well, it looks a little better than before, I suppose...at least it's more centered now.
When they left, I went about putting up my things and eating dinner before I headed up to the bell tower for practice. Luckily, I didn't have any distractions this time around and the rest of the night was spent doing homework. Well...I showered, brushed my teeth, spent about half an hour downloading music and then did homework, but the latter still took up most of the night. I spent an hour on my paper for American Lit. and longer than I had planned on my I-Search paper, but it all turned out okay.
When I got back to the dorm, however, I was surprised to see Melissa and Johnathon there. Overjoyed, I came over and hugged both of them. They told me that they were reading Melissa's blog and Melissa told me that she had commented on mine. Then they went for an impromptu trip to Wal-Mart (yes, in the middle of the night, too) while I set about reading up on Melissa's latest blog post and then writing up my own.
Hmm...didn't write about Andy in this one. Oh well. I have at least half a dozen other blog entries dedicated to just him so I think this one deviation should be okay.
Lastly, I will be debating on whether or not to continue writing here since Melissa's is already back up. She says that she would like it if I kept on writing (she kindly threatened me even), but I don't really see much point in continuing this embarassing excuse of a journal if she has hers up. But like I said, it's up for debate.
Signing out (for now),
jumira-wings
Anyway, here I am again for another dishing out of my daily adventures.
Today was Sunday. And that means church. And church means depression. Well, except for today. My face looked especially horrendous today and yet it made me realize something while I was sitting in the pew, barely listening to the father preach about the "truly important things in life." What I realized was that happiness comes from within. I don't know what made me feel like this but I was thinking about how my life would be different if I was a confident, attractive girl and I just imagined myself smiling more and being happier. Strangely enough, thoughts like that did make me smile more and I was happier. Happiness comes from within, I was telling myself.
That was when I remembered two things I had read, one was in my dad's psychology textbook and it said that if good looks, wealth, fame, and success equalled happiness, then Halle Berry must be the happiest person on the planet. Yet even she goes through divorce, depression, and other problems. That put things into perspective for me. The second thing was something I read from a book I checked out of the library this weekend. It had a quote from actress Jamie Lee Curtis that said: "I"m not saying I don't exercise or that I don't suck in my stomach. But I won't go on an insane diet or go to the gym for four hours to change what nature intended. The biggest lesson is that nothing on the exterior will make me feel better. It may seem that way for a short time, but those feelings of inadequacy will [re]surface."
If two famous, successful, and good-looking women like that have to go through a lot of the same problems I do, then hey, maybe there really isn't anything as a perfect person or a perfect lifestyle out there. Maybe...maybe happiness comes from somewhere else.
Secondly, I want to list the remainder of my day (yeah, I know--so thrilling.) After church came lunch and hours of homework. Then my father came home from his nail technician class and we got ready for my return to Clemson. My mom packed up all the food she had cooked for me this week (I love home-cooked meals!), I myself packed up, and we headed back to Clemson, leaving my brother to his computer and facebook addictions.
Luckily, we passed a pumpkin patch near Dodge's Chicken Store (which is actually where my father stopped to get gas for the car) and I reminded my parents to stop by a store so I can buy a pumpkin for Josh and Matt's BYOP party.
We originally went to Bi-Lo since my mom had seen some inexpensive pumpkins there, but they turned out to be a disappointment (both in price and appearance) so we zipped on over to the neighboring Wal-Mart to get a pumpkin there instead. I picked out a mostly round, slightly elliptical pumpkin and then my mom and I went to pay for it. Unfortunately, the pumpkin had no bar code or label so we asked this guy Marvin to help us instead. (He had the coolest haircut! Close-trimmed with all of these curly designs in it...If I had a camera with me, I would have asked to take his picture.)
Anyhoo, I finally had my pumpkin (which I aptly and very nerdily named Pumpkin) and I was planning to let it sit in my lap on the car ride over, but my mom said not to cling to it and my dad ended up putting poor Pumpkin into the trunk with the rest of my things.
Well, we got back to Clemson okay and my mom was actually surprised when she realized that we were already there. She had fallen asleep shortly after we said the rosary, but my dad's noisy comment rudely woke her up.
My parents helped me carry my things to the dorm and of which I am very grateful, but knowing their anal personalities, they thought that the position of the rug in the room just wouldn't do and promptly set to work, moving around things and straightening it out. Well, it looks a little better than before, I suppose...at least it's more centered now.
When they left, I went about putting up my things and eating dinner before I headed up to the bell tower for practice. Luckily, I didn't have any distractions this time around and the rest of the night was spent doing homework. Well...I showered, brushed my teeth, spent about half an hour downloading music and then did homework, but the latter still took up most of the night. I spent an hour on my paper for American Lit. and longer than I had planned on my I-Search paper, but it all turned out okay.
When I got back to the dorm, however, I was surprised to see Melissa and Johnathon there. Overjoyed, I came over and hugged both of them. They told me that they were reading Melissa's blog and Melissa told me that she had commented on mine. Then they went for an impromptu trip to Wal-Mart (yes, in the middle of the night, too) while I set about reading up on Melissa's latest blog post and then writing up my own.
Hmm...didn't write about Andy in this one. Oh well. I have at least half a dozen other blog entries dedicated to just him so I think this one deviation should be okay.
Lastly, I will be debating on whether or not to continue writing here since Melissa's is already back up. She says that she would like it if I kept on writing (she kindly threatened me even), but I don't really see much point in continuing this embarassing excuse of a journal if she has hers up. But like I said, it's up for debate.
Signing out (for now),
jumira-wings
Thursday, October 23, 2008
These people I'm thankful for
My mom: for loving me and taking care of me and bringing me...FOOD!!! She's one of the few people who will drive an hour and a half roundtrip just to spend 3o minutes with me.
Johnathon: for sitting with me and my lonely hat. And for also giving me food...and SWEETS!!!
Raven: for making fun of me and then saying "I love you" right afterwards. I love you too Raven.
Jason: for being your hilarious "twinkie" self. Every group needs an Asian funnyman.
For someone I think is named...R-Y-N-E?: for cracking jokes about condoms and making us laugh.
Alyssa a.k.a Ally: for being her cute self and also for laughing at everything because I usually couldn't.
Matthew Charles Wilson: for asking questions during our CGSA cultural forum and for giving me a hug that made me feel better. Love ya, Matt!
Sincerely,
jumira-wings
Johnathon: for sitting with me and my lonely hat. And for also giving me food...and SWEETS!!!
Raven: for making fun of me and then saying "I love you" right afterwards. I love you too Raven.
Jason: for being your hilarious "twinkie" self. Every group needs an Asian funnyman.
For someone I think is named...R-Y-N-E?: for cracking jokes about condoms and making us laugh.
Alyssa a.k.a Ally: for being her cute self and also for laughing at everything because I usually couldn't.
Matthew Charles Wilson: for asking questions during our CGSA cultural forum and for giving me a hug that made me feel better. Love ya, Matt!
Sincerely,
jumira-wings
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Je suis contente
I'm happier now for some reason, probably on the account that I accomplished a lot of my homework and my day turned out pretty well.
I woke up this morning slightly confused as whether I should go to English Mass at 9 a.m. with my brother or attend regular Vietnamese mass with my parents as usual. I opted for the later mass and went back to sleep for the next hour. Best sleep I ever got too. This I noticed when I was on facebook this morning before I showered and went to church. Apparently, I was online for a little too long for my dad called me at 11:38, probably wondering where I was and why I was not in church yet. I, wisely, did not pick up. Luckily, I left soon afterward and made it to church with not a moment left to spare.
Church was okay today. I remember Father Dac reading the passage about the Pharisees testing Jesus whether or not it is lawful to pay taxes to Caesar and Jesus's famous quote: "Giveth to Caesar what belongeth to Caesar and giveth to God what belongeth to God." (I added the "-eth"s for effect)
I think I sat there for a while trying to see how this passage applied to my own life, discerning if God was trying to send me a message in this reading (see, that's how self-absorbed I am; I relate everything to myself), but I came up with mostly blanks. Well, there was the fact that I was feeling down about myself again and was contemplating yet another dramatic ending to my life so maybe God was trying to tell me that since he gave me life, I should give him back my life. Wait...that would mean killing myself, right? Doesn't this contradict the teachings of the church? Ah...Catholicism.
Anyhoo, my mood considerably improved owing to the fact that I had lots of time after church to do homework (my parents were at Dai Duc Me praying; I opted not to go). Even the fact that I had overeaten for lunch again didn't dampen my mood or deter me: I kept working.
Finally, I was tired enough to take one of my inevitable Sunday afternoon naps and so waking up almost two hours later, answered a phone call from my mother saying that she might be back late and therefore, I might be late in returning to Clemson. I didnt' mind, of course (I'm easy-gonig like that). Besides, it just gave me more time to do homework...I know, Imma nerd.
My parents finally returned home around 7 o'clock and we had an impromptu family dinner (minus my brother who had succeeded in going to early mass and was spending the day with his new girlfriend). The food was so enticing that I kept helping myself to more and more (hence, the fat, protruding stomach I have to show for it). Gah, I wish I still had that kind of cooking at college, I'd probably be eating all the time.
Clearing up the dinner table (which is really just the kitchen counter in my house since we don't have a dinner table), my mom helped me load my things into the car while my father sat outside smoking cigarettes and I pranced around the house singing Ba Thanh Ca Buon and O, Holy Night in a very broken but joyous voice. The night was just how I pictured the very first Christmas night was like: slightly cold, velvety sky, bright shining stars, a sense of mysterious joy in the air...Ah, Christmas. I can't wait for it to come!
Yeah, yeah, I know. We've barely gotten to Halloween, leave alone Thanksgiving and then Christmas, but all the same!
The ride back to Clemson was interesting. My father started talking about Gandhi and he told me that a contemporary of Gandhi's, Isaac Newton, called the great Indian a "dinosaur walking the earth." I thought that was pretty impressive. I would have liked some famous, British scientist to call me that. Huh...maybe I should become some world-renowned pacifist. That oughta show 'em.
Anyway, we drove past a car accident near downtown Greenvile and that got me to thinking about how some people are really unfortunate in life. (This theme would show up later when I read my sociology book about social stratification.)
The last thing I wanted to comment on about the car ride was when my parents brought up the fact that I should be more aggressive and confrontational instead of just doing so many things for people. They pointed out how much I did for my roommate and for my brother (apparently, my father was really irritated by the fact that I did my brother's laundry for him).
I have been getting signs like this one recently and I knew that I should change. It was sad though. Heart-breaking almost to say good-bye to a part of you that you've cultivated for so long. I had to undo seven years worth of niceness and kindness and of trying to be a good person. I had to say good-bye to that part of myself and bury it. It was like saying good-bye to childhood and innocence and a part of who you are. But then again, I knew it was for the best. There are people out there in the world who will take advantage of you and manipulate you...who will walk all over you and keep you down. I guess I can't afford to be that weak-willed anymore. I'll be entering the real world soon. It's time for a change. Even if it does mean becoming cynical and pessimistic and negative about everything...
Well, the rest of my day wasn't really that interesting. I came back to see Melissa and Tyler watching Kiki's Delivery Service and then I said good-bye to my parents, left for the second floor study room of McCabe, and spent the next two hours and a half doing more homework.
When I came back to the dorm to get ready for bed, I was in a surprisingly better mood and was even re-thinking my whole idea of giving up writing and re-evaluating my look on life. Huh, funny how being level-headed really changes your thinking.
Well, that's probably enough writing for tonight. I wrote for six more minutes than I intended to, but I am trying to make a habit out of journaling my thoughts and writing out my day before I go to sleep each night. That way, I'll have something to look back on during these crazy years. Besides, you know what they say: It's better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it. In this case, it's probably better to have a journal and then delete it later if I want to rather than sit at a desk years from now trying to remember the details about what happened way back when.
Peace. Out. Everyone. Thanks for listening.
jumira-wings
I woke up this morning slightly confused as whether I should go to English Mass at 9 a.m. with my brother or attend regular Vietnamese mass with my parents as usual. I opted for the later mass and went back to sleep for the next hour. Best sleep I ever got too. This I noticed when I was on facebook this morning before I showered and went to church. Apparently, I was online for a little too long for my dad called me at 11:38, probably wondering where I was and why I was not in church yet. I, wisely, did not pick up. Luckily, I left soon afterward and made it to church with not a moment left to spare.
Church was okay today. I remember Father Dac reading the passage about the Pharisees testing Jesus whether or not it is lawful to pay taxes to Caesar and Jesus's famous quote: "Giveth to Caesar what belongeth to Caesar and giveth to God what belongeth to God." (I added the "-eth"s for effect)
I think I sat there for a while trying to see how this passage applied to my own life, discerning if God was trying to send me a message in this reading (see, that's how self-absorbed I am; I relate everything to myself), but I came up with mostly blanks. Well, there was the fact that I was feeling down about myself again and was contemplating yet another dramatic ending to my life so maybe God was trying to tell me that since he gave me life, I should give him back my life. Wait...that would mean killing myself, right? Doesn't this contradict the teachings of the church? Ah...Catholicism.
Anyhoo, my mood considerably improved owing to the fact that I had lots of time after church to do homework (my parents were at Dai Duc Me praying; I opted not to go). Even the fact that I had overeaten for lunch again didn't dampen my mood or deter me: I kept working.
Finally, I was tired enough to take one of my inevitable Sunday afternoon naps and so waking up almost two hours later, answered a phone call from my mother saying that she might be back late and therefore, I might be late in returning to Clemson. I didnt' mind, of course (I'm easy-gonig like that). Besides, it just gave me more time to do homework...I know, Imma nerd.
My parents finally returned home around 7 o'clock and we had an impromptu family dinner (minus my brother who had succeeded in going to early mass and was spending the day with his new girlfriend). The food was so enticing that I kept helping myself to more and more (hence, the fat, protruding stomach I have to show for it). Gah, I wish I still had that kind of cooking at college, I'd probably be eating all the time.
Clearing up the dinner table (which is really just the kitchen counter in my house since we don't have a dinner table), my mom helped me load my things into the car while my father sat outside smoking cigarettes and I pranced around the house singing Ba Thanh Ca Buon and O, Holy Night in a very broken but joyous voice. The night was just how I pictured the very first Christmas night was like: slightly cold, velvety sky, bright shining stars, a sense of mysterious joy in the air...Ah, Christmas. I can't wait for it to come!
Yeah, yeah, I know. We've barely gotten to Halloween, leave alone Thanksgiving and then Christmas, but all the same!
The ride back to Clemson was interesting. My father started talking about Gandhi and he told me that a contemporary of Gandhi's, Isaac Newton, called the great Indian a "dinosaur walking the earth." I thought that was pretty impressive. I would have liked some famous, British scientist to call me that. Huh...maybe I should become some world-renowned pacifist. That oughta show 'em.
Anyway, we drove past a car accident near downtown Greenvile and that got me to thinking about how some people are really unfortunate in life. (This theme would show up later when I read my sociology book about social stratification.)
The last thing I wanted to comment on about the car ride was when my parents brought up the fact that I should be more aggressive and confrontational instead of just doing so many things for people. They pointed out how much I did for my roommate and for my brother (apparently, my father was really irritated by the fact that I did my brother's laundry for him).
I have been getting signs like this one recently and I knew that I should change. It was sad though. Heart-breaking almost to say good-bye to a part of you that you've cultivated for so long. I had to undo seven years worth of niceness and kindness and of trying to be a good person. I had to say good-bye to that part of myself and bury it. It was like saying good-bye to childhood and innocence and a part of who you are. But then again, I knew it was for the best. There are people out there in the world who will take advantage of you and manipulate you...who will walk all over you and keep you down. I guess I can't afford to be that weak-willed anymore. I'll be entering the real world soon. It's time for a change. Even if it does mean becoming cynical and pessimistic and negative about everything...
Well, the rest of my day wasn't really that interesting. I came back to see Melissa and Tyler watching Kiki's Delivery Service and then I said good-bye to my parents, left for the second floor study room of McCabe, and spent the next two hours and a half doing more homework.
When I came back to the dorm to get ready for bed, I was in a surprisingly better mood and was even re-thinking my whole idea of giving up writing and re-evaluating my look on life. Huh, funny how being level-headed really changes your thinking.
Well, that's probably enough writing for tonight. I wrote for six more minutes than I intended to, but I am trying to make a habit out of journaling my thoughts and writing out my day before I go to sleep each night. That way, I'll have something to look back on during these crazy years. Besides, you know what they say: It's better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it. In this case, it's probably better to have a journal and then delete it later if I want to rather than sit at a desk years from now trying to remember the details about what happened way back when.
Peace. Out. Everyone. Thanks for listening.
jumira-wings
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Big Poetry Night
Every semester, Semantics (my school's literary magazine) holds a Big Poetry Night where the staff gathers all of the works that have made it through preliminary tryouts and then read them all one more time to finalize decisions. I attended the meeting this time, and let me tell you, it was a very sobering process.
During one of our breaks, I sat back and reflected on the events of the readings and realized something: I can't be nice anymore. I can't be like this. There really IS no place in the world for paper roses, constant "yes's", and overtipping. In other words, there's no place in the world for someone like me.
It's time for a change.
During one of our breaks, I sat back and reflected on the events of the readings and realized something: I can't be nice anymore. I can't be like this. There really IS no place in the world for paper roses, constant "yes's", and overtipping. In other words, there's no place in the world for someone like me.
It's time for a change.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Stranded
Once again, I forgot my purse inside my room and it has my key card and cell phone in it so, basically...I'm stranded outside of my dormitory. Story of my life.
*shock*
This is an entry from a few weeks ago. I think it happened the week before my birthday.
My mom just bought me see-through panties. What...the...*&%#?!
But before I go on, a little background:
My mother has always been a traditional person, especially religiously. She taught me to go to church often, pray whenver I can, and to have the utmost respect for all of my elders. As for clothes and style, however, she is a bit...less conservative than me. My mom is usually more willing to wear sleeveless shirts or shorts more than I do (I don't even like going swimming because it means all that exposed skin) and she's always buying me what I like to call "skimpy" clothes.
I guess I should have seen this coming , of course and by that , I mean that I think my mom wants me to get a boyfriend. At least two or three times this semester, she has asked me if I had a boyfriend and I guess this is her way of "dropping hints." Well, what a hint.
To go with the panties, of course, is this black, glittery bra and surprisingly, it looks classy more than skanky. I might actually wear the bra some day, but the other undergarment is going into the "I only keep this present as a reminder of you" drawer.
If there's anything I've learned from watching "10 things I hate about you", it's that you only wear black underwear if you want someone to see it. Huh, maybe I should save it for my wedding night then... or maybe not. Seeing as how I plan on being eternally unattached, that's definitely going to stay in the "I'm never wearing this" drawer. ^_^
My mom just bought me see-through panties. What...the...*&%#?!
But before I go on, a little background:
My mother has always been a traditional person, especially religiously. She taught me to go to church often, pray whenver I can, and to have the utmost respect for all of my elders. As for clothes and style, however, she is a bit...less conservative than me. My mom is usually more willing to wear sleeveless shirts or shorts more than I do (I don't even like going swimming because it means all that exposed skin) and she's always buying me what I like to call "skimpy" clothes.
I guess I should have seen this coming , of course and by that , I mean that I think my mom wants me to get a boyfriend. At least two or three times this semester, she has asked me if I had a boyfriend and I guess this is her way of "dropping hints." Well, what a hint.
To go with the panties, of course, is this black, glittery bra and surprisingly, it looks classy more than skanky. I might actually wear the bra some day, but the other undergarment is going into the "I only keep this present as a reminder of you" drawer.
If there's anything I've learned from watching "10 things I hate about you", it's that you only wear black underwear if you want someone to see it. Huh, maybe I should save it for my wedding night then... or maybe not. Seeing as how I plan on being eternally unattached, that's definitely going to stay in the "I'm never wearing this" drawer. ^_^
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About Me
- jumira-wings
- Hi, I'm jumira-wings, likely to be one of the strangest people you'll ever meet.