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.