Today is the Last Day of 2008

I realize I've posted at least once a month ever since I started this blog, and today is the last day of December. And the last day of the year. How utterly depressing.

Hm. Actually, I'm relieved. A new year means erasing the terrible, painful memories of the previous year, the awkward moments, and regrets and what ifs. It's a new start, a new beginning, new adventures! Okay, not really. But I like to think of New Year's this way. So, Happy New Years 2009 everyone (add 5 hours to this post).

Pictures from the "Leaf Raking Party FIRST Fundraiser" in Eric's neighborhood. Eric has a really nice house; I love his balcony. He lives on View Street. And it's obvious why. Except you can't really see it in the picture. Me and Jeffrey are blocking the view. Haha.

That's George Bush (the Christmas tree). He's real; my mother gets free Christmas trees in exchange for donuts. I think he's the best Christmas tree we've ever had. Because he's proportionate. Last year's Christmas tree, Barbara Bush, was kind of crooked.

And these people are my cousins on my mom's side. There's only one boy. He's cute. But he's a spoiled brat. Actually, I think all of us are.

Some cousins from my dad's side. I'm a midget. I used to be taller than ALL those kids. Especially the two standing on the left. I hate growing up. These are the kids I grew up playing idiotic, violent, imaginery games with. Where has all the time gone?

Okay, time to go reflect. Then start an 8 page essay on Benjamin Franklin. What a way to ring in the new year huh.

Goodbye 2008. Good morning 2009.

I'm Thankful for Maroon Leaves, Fabric Softener, and Grace

Before my aunts, uncles, and David, my favorite cousin, come to eat stuff with us, I thought I'd blog...and fold a load of laundry. I've just spent the afternoon doing my favorite thing in the world: I read 2 pages of this new book I started (The Book of Ruth), and then I fell asleep for 4 hours in my warm, cozy bed with the fuzzy, staring teddy bears at my side. (By the way, I'm thankful for warm beds, books, and teddy bears.) So anyway, I decided to make myself a little useful. But you know, I love the feel of warm clothes right from the dryer. And I'm thankful for fabric softener. I'm not sure what it does (I suppose it makes your clothes softer?), but yeah, whatever it is, I'm thankful for it.

Yesterday, as my mother drove us home from school, I noticed, for the first time this year, the long row of red, orange, and golden leaves splashed across baring branches and scattered across Middle Lane. It was truly a most pretty sight; I was just disappointed I hadn't noticed before. For some reason, trees comfort me. They remind me that even though I'm a black dot on the face of the earth, I'm not alone. How they do that, I don't know. ~ Later, I watched my mother cook...she prepared Thanksgiving dinner the day before. But I don't know what she was thinking because I swear she cooked enough to feed the entire Junior class. The pot of curry she cooked (my favorite) was so big, she had to stand on a chair to add ingredients! I realized it was the first time I've ever seen my mother cook curry, and I found it utterly fascinating and comforting to watch. I offered to help, but my mother doesn't let me anywhere near the stove (I'm an abysmal cook, so I might burn the house down). But yeah, I'm thankful for pretty leaves and pretty mothers who cook pretty curries.

That's what I love about Thanksgiving, that today especially, we are thankful for the little things, things we sadly never notice on a daytoday basis. It's a nice, contentment-filled kind of feeling. And I realize Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.

And I'm thankful for God's grace. That He loves us and cares for us and never leaves us and allows us to be thankful and have so many things to be thankful for.


Well, my family has eaten their fill and gone home, and I'm so full I can't even sleep. Seriously, I think we're going to have leftovers for three months. We even had 2 turkeys this year because Foodnet make a mistake and accidently gave us 16 turkeys instead of 15, so I guess you can call that a blessing. But anyway, dinner was fun. I found out my cousin's pregnant (my grandmother is going to be a great-grandmother soon), my other cousin's getting married (yay, I love weddings), my great-grandmother died sitting up (terrifying story), and that my mother would kill me if I don't marry an Asian guy (I was seriously taken aback).

All in all, this was a great Thanksgiving. I'm pretty thankful.

Up the Down Staircase

Up the Down Staircase by Bel Kaufman; it's a novel I started reading, and I liked the title a lot. That's what life feels like sometimes huh? Walking up a down staircase. Or well, walking up the down escalator. Which is very unadvisable. Trust me.

And then again, I suppose you're able to get up to the top of the steps nevertheless. It's just trip-able and foolish-looking. No, I don't know what kind of analogy I'm trying to make.

I s2 my JV Volleyball Team (see picture). I bet you can't find a better bunch of silly, giggly, adorably cute (okay, not really) jv volleyball girls anywhere! I actually looked forward to pratices and games this year! And we beat OMI. Twice! Haha. It's so sad that it has to end when we're just starting to get really into it.

I think my life is starting to revolve around AP Bio. I started this post 3 days ago typing AP Bio notes, and now I am redoing and writing up an AP Bio lab, and yesterday I spent around 7 hours studying for AP Bio test. This is pathetically insane.

Life is hard.

Did you know they're thinking about legalizing prostitution in SF now? And that in Nevada, it is legal for parents to abandon their grown kids at police stations if they can't control them? Huhm.

My Thoughts Are In English

I wonder what language other people's thoughts are in. I mean, what if you spoke like 10 languages and you were, like, 1/10 Chinese, Scottish, Irish, Phillippino, English, Jewish...etc. And you lived in...Turkey. What language would your thoughts be in? What language are God's thoughts in?

I like being an upper-classmen. There's this feeling of confidence and a sense of, I don't know, smoothness? And then again, it's probably because I've been at CCS way too long, so maybe this is why the familiarity is really kicking in now.

If I didn't believe the government was such a sham, I'd probably be a staunch, unmoving Republican. And I'd probably vote for John McCain. Yes, now I have actual reasons behind it besides "people like the wife more than the other wife." Which isn't true anymore anyway, I think haha.

I talk too much. My tongue gets me into too much trouble.

Melissa's Summer Was Very Fun

"Harriet? Is that a banana in your trousers? Or are you just happy to see me?" (It's a banana, don't worry.) -> Haha, I'm going to miss all this.

Melissa's summer was very fun.
Melissa napped too much in the sun.

Now lazy Melissa realizes scary school's almost begun!

So poor Melissa won't have fun again until her AP homework's finally done.

Darn, I just wasted 10 minutes trying to make that poem rhyme. Okay. The next 17 days I shall not be distracted from bio reading, chinese pods, or essay writing. OH WHO AM I KIDDING.

What comes around, goes around. -> When I was, like, 6, I was too lazy to throw my gum away in the trash can, so I stuck the gum under the chimney bricks behind the TV. Now, since we are remodeling the room, I was forced to scrub that nasty, shriveled, absorbed gum off. It was horrible. Boy, did that bring back memories.

When I Was 5, I Looked Up To...

Arthur Reed. And I still do. There was once a time when my sister and I would daily watch D.W. verbally push Arthur off his checkered circle thing, his dorky glasses falling of his dotty eyes during that ridiculously catchy theme song. He stuck. Well at least his voice...in my head. During my theatre class, I thought about Mr. Ratburn's puppet plays. Whenever I make paper fortune tellers, I think about the show; Muffy and the other tall girl drove me into a fortune teller obsession for a while. That stuck too.

I was 4 when Arthur was first born as an 8-year-old. Man, I envied him. He was so cool. He could swim, ride a bike to his bunny friend's house, do community service by himself, go to parades, and change the world. Don't you think he was pretty independant and responsible for a third grader? (Yes, I know he's a TV show.) But I was always like, "In just FOUR THREE TWO ONE years, I'm going to be EIGHT JUST LIKE ARTHUR!"

Now I'm 16, and Arthur's still 8. Twice his age. SO THERE. Nanananna, you can't catch me!

I still can't believe it though. I'm older than my childhood hero. Isn't it strange how things like this happen? Nevertheless, he's still my hero. Through him and his 1/2 hour shows, I learned what a compassionate, patient, and quirky little kid looks like. One that tolerates his sister, loves his parents and grandparents, has a sense of humor, treasures friendships, and plays piano (maybe that's why I want to learn).

And while I got to surpass him twice in age until I reached 16 and go through a bunch of headachy problems and stresses and AP summer homework, Arthur gets to stay an innocent, not-as-stressed third grader. Goodness, will I ever cease to envy him??

Everyday when you're walking down the street, everybody that you
meet...something something something...and I say HEY! What a wonderful kind of day, where we can learn to walk and play, and get along with each other!

On Writing...and Reading

I finished Stephen King's On Writing yesterday. I read it in 2 days and thoroughly enjoyed it. It's hilarious. I totally forgive the guy for allowing that absurdly ridiculous Mist movie to be made. And I started Reading Lolita in Tehran today, and it's nice too, but the other book is considerably easier to read. But anyway, I'm just happy that I finally started summer homework.

But anyway again, due to those two AP Lang books, I'm now inspired to add 2 things to my these-are-the-things-I'm-going-to-do-before-I-die list. So besides learning to play piano and ballroom dance, I'm going to WRITE A NOVEL and START A BOOK CLUB!

I want to write a BIG book, the size of Great Expectations, Oedipus, and To Kill a Mockingbird combined! Except the font will be 10x bigger because I abhor tiny font (plus I don't have to write as much) and there would be pictures! Lots and lots of pretty pretty pictures. And it's going to be hardback, the binding scarlet-purple color. And my huge face plastered in the back! Okay, maybe not. And I'm going to get a special clear glass case for my book, like the ones they use to exhibit special jewelry, the one that lights up, and I'm going to rope off a section of my house just to display it! Okay, maybe not again. But I can just picture it in my head haha.

(I was bored, and I thought this blog is getting drab, so I drew my future book. I think it looks ugly. =( I shall need to find myself an illustrator.)

I just can't picture what's going to be inside the book....yet. Ashley's the creative one; maybe she'll dictate a story, and I'll write it. When we were younger (and we still do this), we would create our own worlds, our own identities, and our own futures. It's been so long ago, but I think I was "Chloe," in my late 20's, married to a guy named "Carlos." We lived in Colorado on a snowy mountain while Ashley (she had a name too, but I forgot) and her husband lived in the middle of Pennsylvania. By the way, I had like a bazillion kids. And we had plot lines too! Some days we had magical powers, some days explosions happened, and somedays we had more children (teddy bears, so each stuffed animal was an addition to the family somehow). I had a good life.

So maybe I'll write a book about my old life. Ahahha. I don't know.

I'll just wait and see until I'm a retired psychologist/school counselor/broadway actress or a bored housewife on Wysteria Lane to start my novel. Oh, and the book club.

My First Day at College Theatre Class Was Intimidating

So I'm taking a college theatre production class this summer at Chabot College with my sister and Alex Deng. It's not really a class, more like a student-run theatre production. We make up 3/5's of the high schoolers in the class. One of the other two is a girl from Arizona and the other a huge 6' 5" guy with curly hair. Ashley, Alex, and I are the only Asians. We are also probably the smallest, puniest people in the room along with the nice girl from Arizona. We're huddled together like "Don't hurt us!" But it's okay; everyone's nice...and interesting.

The first thing Dov, the teacher guy, had us do was the usual ice-breaker game, like we had to tell our whole life story to someone you don't know in like a minute. So mine goes, "Hi, I'm Melissa. I was born in Hayward, and I've gone to Chinese Christian Schools my entire life. I fractured my knee when I was in fifth grade; I love green tea ice-cream....etc." My partner was named Ryan. He's pretty cool, hecka tall though; I'm like half his height. His life story goes like this: "I'm Ryan; I'm 24, and I go to Chabot College. I came out of the closet when I was 16. When I was a freshman in highschool, I got busted into Juvi selling drugs. When I got out, I got deeper into drugs and alcohol and had no idea what to do with my life. And then I when to rehab, turned my life around, and now I'm into acting. So yeah." When he was done, I'm embarrassed to say my mouth was like hanging open and all I could say was, "Oh. Wow." *Shrinks* How real and intimidating and inspiring is that? I'm not really used to real life yet.

Real life. Which is what Director Dov said is what this theatre production is aiming to portray. I realize I'm too young and inexperienced to know what real life really consists of. And Dov says he is teaching a college class, not a high school class, so he is unobliged to censor anything for us poor, innocent high school students. Like we were playing some theatre games, and someone told my sister to do the most innapropriate thing, and she was helplessly like "UM." One of the plays they are thinking of doing is called "Lesbian Draculas of Sodom and Gomorrah." *Chokes* UM. I don't think I'm ready for anything like that yet. I don't even think my mother would let me watch anything like that on TV!

And who am I kidding?! I can't act! I realize I don't even like acting that much. I find it difficult to act like I'm picking my belly button lint or pretending there's no gravity, which is a couple things I had to do today. And I really hope that if I do get cast in any role, that I won't have to like cuss or kiss anyone or anything. Oh goodness. But I love theatre; the sweat, rehearsals, funniness, and togetherness of it all. I like seeing how weeks and months of pain turns into a nice little play. Haha, now I have a new dream where I'm writing my own play and directing it. I think that'd be fun.

Yeah, I'm in for a fun, interesting, weird summer.

The East Coast Trip Was Wickedly Wonderful

Man, I wish uploading pictures wouldn't be so darn frustrating. Anyway, wasn't DC and New York soooo fuuuuun. I wish we could go back RIGHT NOW!








I killed my lover with my elbow because he was dancing with this other girl when he should have been dancing with me. Haha.


We went to lots and lots of memorials...so many that I seem to have forgotten which one this one was supposed to be for. Nevertheless, I think it was my favorite because it had a lot of fountains and pretty stuff.

That's my future engagement ring. I found it at the Smithsonian Museum. That place was awesome. I was so dissappointed; we only had 2 hours in there, and I only got through like 3 exhibits! You need like a week in there.

This is at the Air and Space Museum. On this day, Cynthia and I had chaperone time with Miss Kim. She tried to be embarrassing by linking arms with us for a couple hours and making us pose for awkward pictures, but I found that fun.

That's George Washington's wharf. It's part of his 8-acre home. Rosanna and I are going to own it one day. Haha nah, it's okay, just seeing it was good enough. It was my favorite scenic place in the trip. That George Washington dude was pretty cool! And Martha Washington was one lucky woman.

And that's the view from the Empire State Building. I'm still confused as to what that building's for...is it only for tourist purposes? Oh well. The scenery was breathtaking. New York's nice and all from a distance, but I don't think I'd like to live there. The air sucks, and people don't sleep....don't think I can take it. Ew I look pregnant in this picture.

All in all, it was a good trip.

14 Hours at the Poll Place

I woke up at 5:00 today. That's earlier than all of the days we woke up at DC. It was treacherous. But it was totally worth the nearly $100 bucks I got out of it. Like all I did for 14 hours was read 5 books and listen to some of the most eye-opening stories you can ever hear. Because they were real-life stories from people who have lived real American lives. Like...

Angela. She's 24, lives with her workaholic, ex-navy mother and literally retarded dad (who thought they were divorced for 15 years, but it turned out her dad never signed the papers and took advantage of her social security number all his life while having an affair with another psychopath woman), her 4-year-old daughter with bright green eyes, and her two half-brothers her father had with the crazy woman. She is forced to care for her invalid dad and her brothers, who are not even teenagers. She and her father have a restraining order against the psycho mother; she has another restraining order against her ex-boyfriend who refuses to pay child support, and she has been committed credit card and bank fraud against 3 times. Harsh harsh life. Oh, and she used to work at Bancroft when she was 16 stitching the itchy tags by hand on CCS uniform. Oh, and she's been coming to my parent's donut shop since she was 5, and she recognized my mother. What a small world. Truly, what a small world I have been living in for the last 16 years. Such a sheltered, ignorant, carefree world.

The first thing I'm going to do when I turn 18 (okay, maybe I'm exaggerrating) is REGISTER TO VOTE! I'm very excited about taking part in the government now, and I really feel it's our duty as American citizens to voice our opinions and stuff like that. Like, isn't that what all the American Revolutionist soldiers, the suffraggettes, the civil rights people fought for? So that American citizens can have the rights of religion, speech, press, pursuit of happiness...etc? So that we can vote for our president, city councils, and laws freely without having to dodge bullets in the process of doing so like what's going on in Afghanistan and Iraq? I think I'd like to enjoy, fully exercise the freedom and privileges I have, that so many have given their lives for me to do so. I'm proud to live in America; I'm going to vote. Besides, in the words of bold Angela: "I don't take any [complain]ing about our government, policies, school or health care systems from anyone unless they get their [butt] down here and vote."

Did you know they can repossess tattoos nowadays? Ouch.

Memoirs of a Melissa

Today I was as miserable as ever. Because today was the last official school day of my sophomore career. Truly, it wasn't that bad, but I really hate the words "last time," "over," "never again," and "goodbye," even though in about 65 days I'm going to be dragging myself back to the same place and doing the same things over again. But I'm deathly afraid of change, but what the heck can possibly change? And now I don't make sense.

Speaking of which, this entire year did not make sense to me. Since the last day of 6th Grade, I've written reflections of my school years (yes. I'm pretty lame.), and this year I did the same. But when I tried to summarize this year in words, all that came to me was "HUH?" I'm still just so confused and dazed. Hm maybe I'm being a little melodramatic.

But out of the huge blurry cloud of memories, the weirdest pop up. Like right now, I'm thinking about how I ticked the waiter guy off during formal. Something about water...sheesh, of all things. Now I'm picturing myself dozing off during Euro, my head angled towards the side so I wouldn't offend Mrs. K. Which makes me think about the AP exam and how I think I almost passed out after it because I held my breath writing the last essay in 10 minutes.

Flying volleyballs. An abusive coach making his girls cry. Freaking out when I thought I was late for PSATs because the door was inconveniently closed. Papers...lots and lots of papers, documents, notes, and a lack of notebooks. A nightmare of a locker. Intense algebra tests. Sitting on tables; Mr. Loh telling me to get off tables. Major stress. Sitting outside on the coldest nights of winter to paint or pray under a starry night sky. Confusion. Gossipping late into the night. Dropping baby bowling ball and lying on the grass during the All Dayer. Too much love. Watching the sunset and playing basketball while we should have been inside that stuffy room working. Worrying. Eight hour dress shopping. Playing a stuck up girl and a sold out theatre performance. Breaking that crucible in chem.

In the past 10 minutes, those are the incidents that pop into mind. Goodness gracious, this year was just indescribable for me. But it's not all the way over yet, so maybe I'll try then.

ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ

I'M BORED.

What a terrible way to start an entry.

I think this was the first weekend in MILLENIUMS that I had absolutely nothing to do. No homework. No FIRST, theatre, LEOS, Euro, project, or whatever meeting. No essays. No tests. I didn't even have to do laundry because the washing machine broke on Friday, and my dear mother did 5 loads this morning after it was fixed yesterday. Wow. Okay, there's like finals to study for, but still, like I can ever study for anything early. So instead, I went shopping for 6 hours, played hours of Alchemy, and spent the rest of my wonderful weekend wallowing in my bed. And the weather cooled down! If only all weekends were like this.

But then again, I'm ridiculously bored. So I don't know.

It's Very Hot, And I'm Bored.

[IF]
If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you

But make allowance for their doubting too,

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or being hated, don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,

If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breath a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;

If all men count with you, but none too much,

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!
--Rudyard Kipling

Or a woman. This is my favorite poem; Jen read it for the poetry read. I remember first reading this poem in a Reader's Digest Inspirational book many many years ago, feeling so very inspired and emotional afterwards. I mean, it's a lot to live by, but I guess the point is more that we try. Anyhow, that guy was a literary genius!

Listening to the poem again made me think about what I want in my own daughter 10, 20, 30 years from now. Yeah seriously, it's not like I've matured to a point where I can actually talk about the desired virtues for future Mini Melissa; I haven't nailed anything in that poem at all, but I just can't help but think. That I want my daughter to grow up in a home where her parents love each other deeply and she never has to worry about them splitting up. I want my daughter to grow up not in a rich or poor household, but one where she learns how to be frugal, but that she would be comfortable. I want future Anne, Ava, or Leah to experience life to the absolute fullest, that she would never pass am opportunity because she is afraid to take risks. That she wouldn't be afraid of failure or hard work or confrontation or taxes or anything like that. I want my duaghter to develop a passion and goals early in life, unlike her mother, and work towards those goals so that she would feel she has a clear purpose in life. I want my daughter to love, fall in love, receive love, and give love, never selfish and never being too afraid of getting hurt. I want my daughter to find God and truly know Him, trust Him, and tell the whole world about Him. Basically, these are things that I hope for myself, but I truly wish for my future daughter since she would have an entire life to start from.

But HAH, a daughter?? Who am I kidding.

My Sister and I Were Creative This Year

Every year, my sister and I make our mother a last minute card for Mother's Day. This year, we got a little more spontaneous and made Mommy a last minute SONNET! Haha.

We Love Mommy

Ingenously we write this sonnet

With Avid hope it will make you smile.

Though we know we will always be in debt

To you, indeed, no doubt, it is worthwile.

For lucky we are to have you right here;

Curry, clean bathrooms, fun "dating advice,"

Love, and laughter we'll also have, but dear

Patient mother, never shall we take light

Your firm, caring efforts to make us right.

Like nagging us daily to take showers,

So we won't be funky; we know you care.

Yes, you're super woman with great powers

To bear with us as no mother would dare.

Love you Mommy! You are beyond compare.

FINALLY, I CAN BREATHE!

...and yell and scream and long for a retake on my AP EUROPEAN HISTORY EXAM. I swear I shall never take another AP History class as long as I live. Well, for now at least.

What I Shan't Do Next Year When I End Up in APUSH Anyway

• Reread the entire book.
• Start reading the book, shift to Cliffsnotes, then Princeton Review, and back to the book.
• Assume that the majority of the test will be on modern times. Omgosh.
• Not cram hours before test. It is better to cram. Really.
• Panic.
• Hold my breath while writing essays. I think I was going to faint after the test.

But I'm glad that's over with !

Don't walk ahead of me; I may not follow. Don't walk behind me, I may not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend. - Someone Cool

I can't imagine living in a world without hope and laughter and friends and the ability to feel happy, sad, angry, embarassed, or whatever the emotions may be. I think I take for granted that I can feel...even though they're bad feelings. I mean, some people can't. I wonder, if those people are unable to feel emotions; I wonder if they can feel God's love.

And I wonder what I'm going to do for the rest of my life...

But for now, I'll just bask in the warm knowledge and reassurance that God's love is great and His mercies are never ending. Unconditional. No matther how many times I screw up; He'll always be there. Lifting us up.

-Everything usually works out in the end; that's what I hold on to.-

Let's Find My Passion

I want to find something, love care desire throw myself into something, and then use that something to change the world! In other words, I need to find a passion, and it would be just wonderful if I can find it by the end of this month, or even better, the hour. So let's see:

Stuff I Want/Cure/Fight for in this World

• Slow down the regression, social decline, and just plain downhill of America and the rest of the world (how?)
• Cure childhood obesity and obesity in general (so that cures heart disease and other dreadful killers like that)
• Feed the starving children and people in Africa, China, Cambodia, and maybe even a couple blocks away.
• Show all the people with depression in this world how much God loves them, so much that He died for them, and that they do have hope.
• Exploit (?) all the secretly abusive parents, husbands, wives, children, etc out there.
• Dismantle McDonalds (which is the reason the world is coming to an end. seriously.)
• Stop abortion.
• On a smaller scale, I want to contribute to the rebirth of letter writing. And sonnets. And ballroom dancing. And traditional stuff like that.

Sigh, I don't feel anything yet. Man hidden passion thing, come to me! I shall continue my long-awaited search later.

I'm So Ridiculously Bored.

Things I Just Love

• The Ans >F<>D button on the calculator
• Watching the apple tree in my backyard go from ugly, wimpy bare to pink blossomy, cause-allergy flowers, to a huge leafy thing with wormy tennis ball apples
• Washing dishes with the window in clear view so I can watch the sunset
• Hot 2 hour showers.
• Rererereading Dreamers or Harry Potter on the coldest day of winter while eating a cookie in my bed
• An unexpected compliment
• NJSTAR.

I have lists and lists of Things I Love, Things I Enjoy, and Things that Make Me Happy scribbled all over my AP Euro notebook. Because Euro is so miserable that I had to write happy lists to keep me awake. Like I am right now; I'm so terribly bored. I guess I'll just...sleep.

Kill That Darn Spider, or No?

There's a spider on my wall, and I don't have the desire or guts to kill it. But now I'm imagining spider babies, and maybe I'll change my mind.

I spent two and a half hours at the library by myself yesterday. Honestly, it was kind of nice, minus the hour I spent looking in the dreadful nonfiction section for books about medieval medical practices and Andreas Vesalius. Ew. There was a huge booksale going on in the back too. I browsed for another hour, and after careful consideration, bought five books for $2. Yeah, they weren't new, but that must have been the best bargain of my life. Then I carried, more like balanced, those 5 books + 9 library books outside, sat under a tree, called a couple people, and read The C Student's Guide to Success. My afternoon at the library lol. It's blissful to spend time with yourself.

Is it possible to feel sad, mad, angry, hurt, foolish, anxious, nervous, terrified, relieved, anticipatory, and like you want to tear out your hair at the same time?

I think you can.

They have to invent a word for that feeling because it gets kind of tedious to explain.

Magic, Irritability, and Alice

TingyMoii: dude i feel like i havent seen you for a long time

Sadly, I get that a lot. Magical disappearing me, haha.

I feel terribly irritable. I don't know why. Maybe it's bottled-up emotions that I am unaware of. Mrs. Carlson says the reason old Chinese ladies are so crabby all the time is because when they were younger, they had to repress their anger and hurt. Then when they're older, they tend to like let it all out at once. By yelling and arguing about everything. My gramma's kind of like that...then I wonder what kind of childhood she had then.

And I just received some sad news. I found out that Alice died a couple days ago...from old age. So sad though. Alice is one our donut shop's long-time customers. She came almost everyday, usually in the afternoons, with her husband Earl. They were old. Like nearing 100 years old. As far as marriages and relationships go, their's was one that I want to have. They had been married around 70 years. Sometimes I go to the donut shop in the afternoons; in fact, I saw them together just before spring break, and they would be holding hands on their way into the shop. And then again, they're so old, maybe they needed to lean on each other for support. But either way, it just touches me to see that love really can last that long. I mean, seriously. 70 years and still holding hands? Wow. And I was a firsthand witness. Lucky huh. God bless that family.

"Because of God's great love, we are not consumed because His compassions never fail." Lamentations 3:22

I guess I'm not that irritable anymore.

Hm What To Do With a Blog...

Haha. I just realized I made a blog in like December. I wonder why. It's empty. Just proves how utterly boring and pathetic I am. No wait, I shall be uplifting and cheerful! Because I was telling Jasmine about how emo and complaining-y our, well at least my, long-time-ago diary entries were...and still are. So from now on, I will try to be less complaining-y and more...cheerful?...in writing, I mean. By the way, Jasmine is one inspirational person. I make blog so I can comment on her very awesome one!

Anyway, I don't know what else to say, so I'll blog about my other blog haha. I've been journaling for the past...well, since 7th grade. I have very beautiful spiral 70-page notebooks for each year, so I guess I'm on my 5th one. And okay, they are falling apart and look horrible (I decorated the last 2 with stickers though!), and I misplaced a couple of them because I scattered them around the house. Because I thought that would increase the chances of Ashley not reading them. But I should go retrieve my journals now, since she realized they are not worth reading. She said not only is my handwriting unbearable, but my life is also unbearably boring. Even so, I'm glad I kept at the journal. It's nice to have a reference book for your life. Like the other week, when we had our sophomore chapel, I reread my journal entries about the 8th and freshmen chapel and compared. That was nice. Then again, most of the time when I reread my journals, I think I'd rather burn them. But burn my precious, priceless memories 0_0! I think not. So instead, when I reread them, I'll slap my head with my hand, stick them back in the closet, bookshelf, under the bed where they belong, and vow not to read them again until I'm 40.

I encourage everyone to journal.