I have discovered something ridiculously simple yet so satisfying and has proven to increase my quality of life by 30% in the past 2 weeks. Having a beer in the shower is so nice. JESUS it’s good.
Albert flew into San Diego for a conference and introduced me to the idea of drinking and eating in the shower. I decided to start small with only liquids, but I think I’m going to bring a sandwich in next time.
Oh god. What am I doing here.
I spent the last hour and a half in S’ apartment down the street ‘pregaming’. Back then it was a lot easier to delude myself into thinking that this is what I wanted to do on a typical Saturday night after a long work week. Cause this was the college lifestyle right? To party as if I had money, but live as if i didn’t. This was before we all left to see some well-known singer in a club downtown. [ edit: OH S elbowed pitbull here! I remember now!] In a moment of substance-induced clarity, I found myself surrounded by people I didn’t like very much, listening to music I didn’t like either in a dingy almost humid room and to a larger extent (usually following these moments of clarity) experiencing a strong burst of self-hate and my own condemnation for subscribing to a world-view I despise. HAH, and they say I “matured”. Joke’s on them!
All of these things could’ve been prevented I thought - had i just told everyone that I was busy or some other overused excuse I had to just stay home and study.
This was one of my many club outings during college and I’m trying to recall the moment specifically - I wish I wrote it down even if I was drunk but alas, i can’t find an entry on tumblr :( I think it would’ve been hilarious. Angsty. Hilariously angsty and just fucked with typos.
Now’s a bit different: let me enumerate:
1) I no longer give a fuck
2) I have run out of fucks to give
There is absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying an evening like the one I mentioned above. I would definitely go again! Not so soon, but maybe right after I forget how much I spent two days ago. Over the weekend I took D out for a night of dancing. I would like to say that southern california drag queens are both very pretty and always an enigma. There’s no telling whether or not they’re drag queens or just a really pretty girl - it gets confusing. Anyway I thought that I didn’t like the clubbing experience since it always brought out all of my inner insecurities to the surface especially during college. Then I realized…
I dont give a fuck anymore. If I am going to invest my time, energy, and money towards going to a glorified, overrated dance party - mother fucker Imma dance.
And the annoying about not giving a fuck anymore is that you have no idea when you’ve stop giving a fuck until you’re in a situation where you used to give a fuck. The realization is glorious. It’s like getting over someone. These transitions just happen. Randomly! And the moment they happen is just difficult to pinpoint because it means that something within you has changed.
This past weekend I met up with someone I used to date. I drove up to orange county to visit some family and to see her. We ended up going shopping - she wanted a new skirt and I needed a new dress. So we were both in Express and after she grabbed some clothes we went to the fitting rooms. I thought it was a little bit awkward because she started trying things on while I was lagging outside and I wasn’t sure if I should’ve gone into the same stall as her since we’re no longer dating but there was really nothing that i hadn’t already seen and she wanted my input so i eventually went in. It was perfectly fine. She bought a skirt, i bought a dress and then we went to get some tapas. The evening went REally well! She told me about her new job, what she’s up to, her new girlfriend who’s an artist. And everything was hunky dory. It was!
See had I been my lovesick self which I was not too long ago I would’ve agonized over that situation. i would’ve asked her what her new girlfriend did (a really shallow question), and where she went to college (shallow), and what she studied (which from my love-sick angle were all points that needed to be self-comparable). Is she even Asian? I would’ve asked. I mean, I needed to know because in my mind, the only logical reason why she would even consider dating this new person was because she was similar to me, right? RIGHT?
How’s that for graceful?
But in all seriousness it really does suck not knowing when you’re getting over it, over it, and actually over it. The period before is just torturous.
If this really works…
I tried this and it has worked pretty well the times I’ve felt a huge side stitch coming on. From what I remember reading it has a lot to do with your breathing. When you exhale, your exhalation muscles contract to expand your chest and your diaphragm which exerts force to push air out of your lungs. Combined with the force of striking the ground every single step, these pressures can over strain and over stretch the muscles lining the inside of the ribs. Exhaling on the opposite foot takes this strain away.
Thought I had 2 more months to work on my thesis.
Turns out I only have 4 more weeks.
DAMN IT. If you want to go out for margaritas, can you tell me when I have a free moment and NOT when I explicitly told you that I plan to have a study day because I’m already behind on my thesis and work.
And writing =)
This one’s going to be about post-college life.
Let’s have a kai kai! YES
In retrospect, I don’t think I’ve properly said my farewells to this blog, but more importantly to you readers - the few of you that are out there.
I think this tumblr has served its purpose in me being able to document some aspects of my life through college which has been an insane ride. I’m glad I did this to see not only the experiences I’ve had but also the changes that I’ve undergone. At the very least, I have some material for my personal statement.
In retrospect, when I first started this blog a couple of years ago, I wanted to jot down the peripheral thoughts I had floating around in the minutiae of young adulthood (how’s that for a fancy-schmancy sentence!). I think in doing so, I was able to get a little bit better in communicating my thoughts and understanding myself. One of my biggest flaws was my inability to really say what I meant. Writing helped. Continuously writing helped a lot.
Growing up, I had the hardest time trying to communicate to others in a way that made absolute sense to both them and me. Fucking brain. Always confusing me. Anyway, I thought that I would have to make people understand where I was coming from, who I was, and what I meant. To me, these were insurmountable tasks that I would eventually have to deal with. I thought this was normal. I thought that I would have to become completely transparent in order to live like an average well-adjusted human being. Yea, I realize that’s not the case.
My world was and still is very small. Coming straight into college from high school, I lacked worldly experience and perspective. Small prejudices like the one I mentioned above became the outline to how I organized the way I lived my life. And boy was I miserable.
Things became a lot better when I started surrounding my self with people who were obnoxiously positive. I got mentors. People taught me shit. I learned them. Took classes that I enjoyed. Exposed myself to the different mindsets of people I largely disagree with. Became extremely grateful for the parents I have (there are no words to describe how much). And learnt a lot about humility. A lot. A whole LOT.
I became aware of my own autonomy. I was responsible for the choices I had made. A very, very brilliant friend pointed out to me that part of my reasons for acting like such a little bitch in my teens/now have a lot to do with my limited perspective. Moving away from home was one of the best decisions I think I’ve ever made for myself.
Getting to know myself or knowing the absolute reasons behind my actions grew less important. It’s still important nonetheless, but too much introspection can really drive someone insane.
I have made peace with some parts of my life, though others have been sorely neglected. And some of you may know which ones. Definitely still a work in progress.
I have gotten the opportunity in these past few years to cross paths with extraordinary individuals who have shown me things that I would not have ever experienced or thought myself capable. I’m a helluva late-bloomer, but I experience over the course of the past few months what it meant to be in a real relationship, and to have heartache and what it means to care for someone and to be cared for. Issues with sexuality aside, I have no regrets. I am so glad that I was able to experience this with such a person. And I wish her the best in her endeavors whatever they may be. many things I do regret and I look back to see how I would have turned out if I had been a bit more courageous and less cowardly. I guess this is what learning is all about though, right?
I have to give a shout out to my sisters who have given me so much more than I can even begin to describe. Everyone really should have an older sister and a younger one - it really changes your perspective on things.
I would like to thank you so much for taking time out of your lives to read about my boring one. Thank you all. I wish you all the best. Live well, eat well, and don’t forget to floss.
I am a big Neil Patrick Harris fan. His portrayal of Douglas ‘Doogie’ Howser has been satirized, parodied, and brought to life in more ways than just television; having life imitate art is just icing on the cake. Here is my interpretation of a serialized comic starring ‘Doogie,’ the Howser.
We just got one of these types of crazys in the lab.
Get this guys, she’s 16 years old and currently in the MD/PhD Program with about 7 other people at this university. She applied to Med school at 13, but due to her age a lot of schools wouldn’t take her.
SO what does a med school reject do at 13? Work for the National Institute of Health for 4 years doing some freaky work with stem cells and apply again at 16.
She is surprisingly normal and well-adjusted. Though very easily excitable.
Alright now throw in some motherfucking diagrams, a pie chart, a narrative on second wave post-modern feminism, a picture of Megan fox and BAMM
Shit’s ready to print.
NO HELP. THIS IS NO HELP.
Email response to my proposal draft.
WHAT IS THIS
I spent the last 5 weeks writing a grant application only to revise the ENTIRE PROPOSAL over the course of a weekend. I’m meeting with my professor next week to go over it.
I reread some of my journal entries from earlier this year which made me think about my schedule now and how easily I’ve transitioned from being a workaholic to lazy ass.
I’m beginning to understand this whole balanced lifestyle ordeal. Even though my work may not give me the satisfaction I thought it would, life totally goes on. This idea gave me a lot of grief in the last 8 years.
In other words, my mentor is getting married today!