MisterChang's Xanga

. : Bask in The Awesomeness That Is Me! : .

Fri, 09 May 2008 07:13:25 GMT

Something about jealousy just brings the worst out in people. I’d like to think that I’ve gotten over that green-eyed monster inside me—but like I said: I’d like to think that I have. Maybe I’m pissy because I’m sick of school, or maybe I’m pissy because of a pretty recent realization: I’m awesome.

Okay, so that didn’t sound exactly how I wanted to…well, actually it did. Not to sound conceited or anything, but seriously, I think I’m pretty awesome. I mean, who wouldn’t want to date me. I’m funny; I’m fun; I’m a good person; I’m well educated; I’m down to earth; and I don't think I’m unfortunate looking. So what’s the deal? Am I not proactive enough? I mean sure, the balding soon to be 23 year old isn’t exactly a winning look, but I know that my personality more than makes up for my lack in the hair department.

Maybe that’s what’s the killing the entire scheme of things. Maybe my baldingness is just a large warning sign that I’m undateable? But I know I do a good job at making uncomfortable situations comfortable. I know that I am a people person. I know that I can easily connect with people. So what’s going on? I mean, I’m a damn good catch. I mean, sure the balding thing is a turn off, but at least I have to hope that I can win them over with my personality.

Everyone says that they don’t really care about looks and just wants someone who can make them laugh, or has a great personality. But after all this time, I think it’s just all BS. How many times have I heard people say, “They can be an adonis, but if they’re an asshole, it’s a real turn off.” There is some truth to that statement, because no one wants to date an asshole—BUT when it comes down to it, it really is based on looks. No one wants to admit to being shallow and superficial. We’d all like to think that we can judge people based on more than just their looks, but in the end we’re kidding ourselves.

And that’s the kicker. No matter how much I try to say that I’m a catch, that I’m such an awesome person, if people can’t SEE that, if people can’t see past my big ole baldingness, than I’ll never have that chance to show them what I have to offer. And that sucks. Scott, maybe you’re the one who’s insecure about your looks and don’t have enough confidence in yourself, you guys say. Sure, that’s somewhat true, but I’ve already gone on enough blind dates where the guys kinda balk when they see me, and even though I win them over with my awesomeness they want nothing more than just to be my friend.

I can only say that someone will eventually see me for me. All I can do is hope that people will begin to realize how much I can bring to the table and maybe just hope for that perfect someone. Even though it feels kinda hopeless, I just have to hold on to that feeling of hope. Or else I really have nothing else.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Tonight, something about seeing Tony act tipsy and start kissing other guys and making fun of me just didn’t sit well. I’m pretty sure it’s jealousy. I know that Tony and I will never happen, and I’m frankly not even that attracted to him, but something about it just didn’t sit well. I’ll get over it in a week or two, but yeah. I just wish I could keep my crazy in check. It seriously drives me well…crazy.

. : Toys 'R Us : .

Sun, 20 Apr 2008 08:01:08 GMT

I think I'm fighting the inevitable.

It seems like everything in my life is telling to do one thing, and it all points to the same destination. Yet I'm still trying to find ways to delay or postpone the inevitable. Either by making excuses or just (conciously and subconciously) messing things up on purpose. I think it started this past summer, right after graduation. Maybe a little bit before then. Maybe it's the four coming-of-age movies I watched today, or maybe it just hit me, but I really am just trying to stay this young, naive child. It's sad really, what I'm doing. I'm trying to fight the process of growing up. Ney, I don't want to grow up.

And it scares me.

I don't want to become one of those grown child-men that are overweight and don't have a real job and flake on everything and are just a pathetic excuse for a human being. Okay, so then grow up you say. But it's not that easy.

I'm sitting in finance the other day, and I'm trying to figure out what the hell my prof is trying to say. Finance isn't exactly the easiest thing in the world to learn or teach, I realize that. But something just kinda snapped inside. I was getting more and more frustrated at my professor and at myself and at the school. I mean, why would he blabber on about rates and time sequences and bond values if he's not even teaching from the book? If the book is just useless and the midterm is going to be the excel sheets he gives us to work on which have no relevance to the book...then...why? It seems like we're teaching ourselves finance.

Again. Seriously? After the debacle that was accounting, which you can teach yourself okay, I now have to go through the entire painful process of teaching myself finance? Are you kidding me?

And that was when I realized that I needed to, but didn't want to, grow up. Yeah, life isn't fair. Yeah, life isn't going to be spoon fed to me. Yeah, I've had it really good since the beginning of my life. But com'on! Mike brought up a really good point.

"Don't fall into that trap, Scott. Stop making excuses that you don't need this and he's doing a bad job at teaching you. You know your learning something useful."

Yeah, that shut me up. It's true. This is something that I need to learn. No matter how hard and how difficult it is, I just need to suck it up and just do it. But it's hard!

See, this is what I mean. I know exactly what's good for me and what's needed for me to become a mature adult, and yet here I am whining and complaining about how hard school is and that I want to quit. I want to say that part of it is due to the fact that I haven't come across material that hasn't come easy for me in a while. I mean, at UCLA I breezed by my IDS courses. I was easily at the top of my class and did the readings and understood almost everything the first time around. And now I have to bang my head against the book to try to get these stupid concepts into my head and it's humbling. I'm just not use to that. I mean, I'm the smart one in the family and yet I can't seem to understand the basis of these foundation courses. And it's killing me.

Another factor could be that right after graduation I was expecting something like a fresh start. I was so psyched for the summer and my future. I was thinking that I could reinvent myself in grad school. Give myself a new face over the summer and change my outlook and become that awesome-chic-cool grad student that everyone wants to be. And instead, I've come to a sad realiation, that nope. I'm just still dorky Scott. People still either hate me or love me. I'm either praised for my awesomeness or chastised for my "unprofessionalism."

I think the fact that I'm upset at myself for not wanting to be a better person is upsetting me even further. It's a vicious cycle.

I'm just so tired. I'm tired of having to better myself. And I'm tired of being scared of being that grown man who's still a child. I just wish that my heart and brain would get it together and just get it over with. I feel so restless. Like I need a break from life. I don't want to go to school and I don't want to work and I just want to bum around and be useless. But I can't, because it's not what I'm suppose to be doing.

Okay now I just sound crazy. Like I can't even keep a coherent thought. Then again, this isn't really a coherent argument: I know I should grow up and just suck it up, but I don't want to.

I mean this comes from mouths of five year olds. Where they're banging their fists on the pavement, kicking and screeching.

I posted this a while ago, but I'll say it again. It's as if after college, your pushed out into the real world. And then you're expected to become this adult. This responsible, bill-paying, full-time working adult. And in reality, we're still these kids. I mean I just picture 10 year olds in their dad's suit working with the big kids, trying to make it for ourselves.

When is that turning point? When do we know what we grow up? And when does it happen? Does it just happen one day?

It's such an overwhelming thought. One of those, the world is exponentially larger than you, and your just a minute fraction of it. And yet, it all seems to fit together.

. : Incessant Me, Till Another Day : .

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 13:50:32 GMT

It’s been quite some time since my last post. Again, it seems as if grad school has taken over. But I suppose that’s how it’s suppose to be. Anyhow, from my past post, the situation has change. Well that’s clearly an understatement. I no longer care for that guy…well to be honest, it was more that it clearly wasn’t going to pan out and homeboy here had to move on. Or else it would have been desperately sad. That’s right people, I’m growing up and moving on with my life. Riveting, I know. I’ve also started to work out. I somehow managed to gain some weight and be the victim of unsightly bulges (and not the good kind) so hopefully I’ll be able to slim down again.

I think as a result of my exerciseness, I’ve definitely gotten happier. My wallowing in the crap hole has more or less stopped. Now I’m more stressed out about school and my family than really about stupid personal ish that I wasn’t getting over. Now that I was able to move on from such a low point, it seems that life has bitch slapped me once more. Recently my mother has been extra naggy and now I’m somehow more superficial about my own looks (please contain your laughter…and stop rolling on the floor).

I was taking a shower last night and I usually don't pay much attention to the mirror. I’m just in there to get clean and get out of there so I can finish up my work. Kinda sad really, I’m so busy with school. But last night I finally caught my reflection in the mirror—particularly the follicly challenged part of my head. It wasn’t a pretty sight. At the age of 22, this wasn’t what I thought I was suppose to look like. I mean, sure, genes play a great deal in this sort of stuff, but I never thought I’d be a prematurely bald twenty-something. I usually don’t fret about this stuff…..okay, who am I kidding, of course I do, but I somehow manage to just brush it off. And no matter how much I can see that other people have their insecurities, it’s still just not enough I guess. That sounds really bad, but it’s true. Everyone revels in a little schadenfruede from time to time. It’s only natural.

I guess this doesn’t help that when I log onto downelink, it makes me feel like an impossible poser. I mean, really. Who am I kidding? Can I really compete with these cut fit gorgeous men? No. But then my friends are quick to point out that they’re just that—fluff. Not much more than beautiful superficial people that has no substance. And yet, there are still some people who have someone and I just wonder: I’ve dated enough losers and freaks and wierdos that it’s time that I finally found someone of my own, no? I mean, how much more of this can one person take?

Then again, I’m not quite sure where this is coming from. As of late, my heart has again flopped to the other side of I-don’t-want-to-be-in-a-relationship. I gotta admit though, having someone just hold you in their arms is very comforting. But if there’s no substance behind it and it’s just some stranger, is it really worth it? Sure, I mean, I dream of meeting someone that’ll sweep me off my feet and romance me and make me fall hard. It’s everyone’s dream. But it just seems so unlikely that it’ll never happen. Aren’t these things of fiction? This is what romantic comedies and Korean dramas are made of. I know that I want more. I know that I deserve the best, but there’s always that little nagging voice in the back of my head that asks “but are you really?”

Not to be one of those superficial crazies (but really, we all are no matter how much we deride “that crowd”) it seems like even ugly people are able to find the right one, and yet…and yet some of us are just left in the dust.

I saw this guy’s profile on OKC and he’s the gorgeous, incredible sexy man. Yet he has yet to find someone. “Either they’re taken or not where I live or stupid.” I guess there’s some repose in the fact that even beautiful people can’t find love. I mean, what is this obsession with finding the right person to be with for the rest of your life?

I guess it’s the quest to find someone that can completely understand you and that will always be there for you. I think that’s what love is to most people. It’s not the sex, the money or the status. In the end, when it comes down to it, it really is about finding that perfect someone who loves your annoying habits. Who loves the little things, like the way you fiddle with your fingers when your talking, or the way you forget that you put your glasses on top of your head, or the way that you have to eat three bites of your salad before you can drink the soup. I mean, it’s this kind of acceptance that people crave for. You family, that’s unconditional, that’s an obligation. But to find that stranger who just adores all those things is, well, downright rare.

I think that’s what makes love so devastatingly wonderful. It should blindside you, it should knock you off your feet. There has to be some truths to those movies. I mean, sure it’s exaggerated, but there is some basis. Sure, we all want that fantasy love story to happen—but in the meanwhile, then what? What do we wait for?

Premeditated by human nature, we as people are just impatient fools hoping for our big break. And in the rush of things, we want to reach that blissful climax of love at the end. Whether we sleep through cities of people, bring up walls that block people out, or isolate oneself in their work, our goals are still the same: to love and be loved.

Oddly enough, as I spew this bullcrap, of course I want it to happen to me now. I can say all this and know it’s true; I still can’t wait for love to happen to me. As a twenty-two, almost twenty-three, virgin (yeah, that’s right) I guess my biggest fear is turning out like the forty-year old virgin. And oddly, I don’t want to do give it up for just anyone. I’m more surprised that I’m still hanging on to that romantic mentality of “giving your flower to the one.” But I’m sure you’ll hear it when it happens. I have BMS, remember? Big mouth syndrome.

Till another day.

:: The Methods We Try ::

Sat, 09 Feb 2008 10:01:48 GMT

When your heart aches there are plenty of solutions. You can eat it away by stuffing your face till you fall into a blissfully full food coma. Some decide to drown themselves in work and school. Others may decide to block it out and perhaps even successfully ignore these feelings. We all have our vices. And yet these techniques leave us still feeling those pangs of heartache. Sadly, I’ve tried all of these methods and have again failed to stop that numbing pain in the pit of my stomach. If we already know that these techniques can only leave us feeling the same if not worse off, why do we keep forging on, trying to temporarily end and perhaps maybe even induce more pain?

It was seriously such a little thing. It’s not even that big of a deal, but again it’s me we’re talking about. This afternoon I decided to call him to just talk and see what was up. He hasn’t returned my phone call. Wonderkin. And yet, he goes off gallivanting with my friend for drinks. Okay, not a big deal right? But why do I feel so rejected again. Something about being rejected that creates this black vortex inside my stomach. It just doesn’t sit well. I was already feeling kinda blah but I was improving. But these little things just blow up in my face. I think it’s so interesting that such small details can trigger such a torrent of emotions and insecurities. I mean, you could be sitting in a car, and hear a song on the radio and just begin to burst out into tears. Something about that song that just draws out the crap that we were trying so hard to suppress.

I deal with my (wo)manly problems by watching chick flicks and drowning myself in girly TV shows and music. This usually works. The hurting and dull pain kinda numbs away. But all that’s left is just that—numbness. I was sitting in front of my computer watching Cashmere Mafia and Lipstick Jungle trying to identify with these character, and clearly failed. Then I tried the good ole classic Sex in The City, and have yet to feel the pain ebb away.

Jumping in the shower, I was hoping to at least get cleaned up so I can go to bed. I was soaping up and cleaning myself as thoroughly as possible. I’m not sure if it was the water drumming down on me, or a mixture of the heat and mist but I just couldn’t get clean. I was scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing. I just didn’t feel clean. I think I rubbed some skin off on my torso and legs. Eventually I just sat down in the shower and just stopped. I just couldn't’. I felt the water run down my face and wanted to cry. I tried really hard but I just couldn't’. I couldn’t express the frustration and restlessness. I wanted to much to feel tears streaming down my face, and I just couldn't cry. Instead I was left feeling empty and humiliated by the effort.

The face on Mars, spontaneous human combustion, UFO sightings are not the most mysterious things that humans have to face. I think that heart matters are the most mystifying things about humans. We let little, meaningless details take over our lives. Some of us learn how to brush those aside, yet the majority of us are left in the wake of its destruction. Our vices, our methods of making ourselves feel better whether they be eating through the pain or numbing ourselves through Hollywood is a way to punish ourselves for letting these trivial matters affect us so much. Sure we hope that these techniques make us feel better temporarily, but in the end, we still know that we’re going to end up exactly how we started: alone and still feeling that dull pain. I mean isn’t feeling bad punishment enough? Why do we continue to keep poking around the wound? Why are we so masochistic? Our emotions make us do crazy things, but perhaps punishing ourselves is the most practical tool at our disposal. It is only when we feel enough pain that we can continue. It’s only when we feel bad enough can we decide to pick ourselves off the ground and start living again.

And it sucks. It sucks hard.

When we’re down there it feels like the world has blurred and we want to just melt into the scenery, never having to face it again. But life isn’t that good. We still have to function and reintegrate into the world. And it’s hard. It’s hard to get back on your feet. I don’t want to feel like this any more, but I try to keep telling myself thing will pick up. They have to. In the meantime, the fight in my head to suppress these negative feelings isn’t doing so hot. I just don't like feeling like this.

I can’t wait till this ends. I’m ready for the end.

:: Delusions, They're Called Delusions ::

Thu, 24 Jan 2008 09:15:48 GMT

I have to admit. I’m disappointed. I mean, his facebook profile says he’s single. Right, because facebook is such a good relayer of personal information. Heh, I know. I saw this coming. I knew something was up when he all of a sudden became unattainable. I mean, This usually happens, anyways right? I start to like people who I know I’ll never be able to get to. Which makes me wonder. If we know our flaws ahead of time, why is it so difficult for us to break these habits and move forward with our lives?

Vere called me with some “disappointing news.” Apparantly he’s been committed for six months according to a very close source of his. So these past couple of days (after my novel of an entry) I’ve been trying to collect myself into a whole person again. It hasn’t been easy. Needless to say, I have yet to complete myself. Yes. Completing myself. It’s been brought up time and time again: in movies, books, and real life advice—I should love myself before love will come find me. But who are these people who absolutely fall head over heels with their reflections?

I want to meet these people and teach me their ways. It sounds so easy, yet so difficult to do. Perhaps this difficulty lies in the fact that my self esteem has been at an all time low. Particularly now. I’m extra sensitive about my appearances (oh vanity) and I guess with what I have to offer. I mean, no matter how much my friends tell me I’m worth it and how incredible I am, I can’t help but wonder if it’s really true. I mean, that’s kind of a packaged deal with friendships: they’re suppose to say those things. I mean, friends are an extension of oneself and your support system. But sometimes. Sometimes I just need more.

I was hanging out with Albert the other day and I really wasn’t in the mood to see anyone. But I surmised that it would be best to seek out this friend. I hadn’t talked to him in ages. As we were eating ramen and browsing yet another Mitsuwa, it dawned on me. How great my friends are. I mean, I don't’ see Albs often, but everytime I hang out with him, I feel as if a great weight has been lifted from me. It’s not that I’m not me at SD, but something about hanging out with my LA friends just allows me to be me. Albert lets me be who I am without judgement (not the bad kind anyways :P ) and, at least I believe, finds my craziness endearing? Fun? Crazy? Whatever he thinks, he makes me feel like I belong and that I’m accepted.

This sucks to say, but I don’t think I’ve felt like that in quite sometime. Always wondering and worrying what people think about me. Then again, I am going to a professional school with career minded people. During all this, all the students are all so conscious of our insecurities and what we’re unhappy with ourselves and try to cover it up as best as we can. Either through fashionable clothes, an affected persona, or even through laughter, I can tell we’re all hiding something from each other. But most of all, we’re trying to hide from ourselves.

I can spew all the “it’s the flaws that we love in our friends” speech, but until we’re able to see that for ourselves or even keep that in mind as we look in the mirror, we won’t be able to move on with our lives. Until that moment, we’re always stuck, and reliving our habits and relearning our mistakes. Until I find the self-confidence and self esteem to believe that I’m good enough, I’ll always be stuck in the rut that I’m in right now. And it’s true, I haven’t been trying all that hard to get out. I don’t have a good incentive. I guess my well-being isn’t a good enough incentive. I know I should try harder, but for once, I’d just like to stay down here for a while and just let go. I want to cover myself in darkness before I see that pinhole light beam. I think that’ll make that light at the end that much brighter. Then again, I could be deluding myself.

To be frank, it’s just so easy to stay down. It’s so easy to continue our habits and never change. I mean, what’s the alternative? Break a sweat and possibly achieve happiness? Again, I know it’s easier said than done, but seriously. Since when have we really wanted to change something about ourselves to go out and change it. We usually need a catalyst, a grave incentive for us to actually do something about it. I already know that if I’m not more pro-active, then I’ll end up alone, forever? That’s a bit extreme, but that’s probably why, even though we know our flaws ahead of time, that we’ll never change. Unless there’s something to force us, as humans and people, to change, we never will. As much as I want to be all gung-ho about changing myself right now, I’m much more content wallowing in the crap that I’ve created for myself. It’s much easier, thank you very much. Until I can muster the strength to continue the good fight (usually against myself) I’ll be in this low self-esteem crapola for some time.

But you know what? I’m okay with that. I don’t plan on being down here too long. But if I decide to put up camp, friends, please force me out. We all need all the help that we need, and who else better to do it than our friends.

:: Save Me ::

Mon, 21 Jan 2008 07:23:27 GMT

Here’s my obligatory apology for not writing in this since, never. So there, that was it. Now onto the entry:

I wonder why I go through these insecure phases. Like mad insecurity. Oh wait, that’s right, I’ve become smitten with someone so of course that unleashes all the ugly and disfigured grossness that is the inner psyche, i.e. my brain. I’ve already been struggling with my decision to go to grad school, and now my brain has to work double time with stupid questions like “Am I interesting enough?” “Does my baldingness equal ugly?” “Why doesn’t he try harder?” “Why am I asking these damn questions.” And thus the cycle continues. So let’s tackle this one at a time.

Grad school. Yes, that elusive two year commitment to earn a higher degree, the Masters. Okay, I must admit, this ambivalence was definitely triggered by how hard grad school is. Yes, I’m a pathetic wuss, but seriously, grad school is so hard. Okay, that sounded a bit whiney, but it’s true! It’s so hard! I don’t think I’ve ever been challenged this much before in my school work. It seems not matter how hard I try, it’s just not good enough. I mean, I thought this was over during high school when my parents would yell at me for not being smart enough, or filial enough, or whatever enough. I mean, I’m paying (and my me I mean my parents) to be bitch slapped across the brain everyday to remind me, no I’m not one of the smarter students any more.

Okay, so that makes me sound like a pompous fool, but then again, what grad student isn’t? I mull over this all the time: did I make the right choice? Was grad school the thing to do after college? I mean, my family they already know all this stuff from just working. Is it worth losing time, money, and might I add, hair, to gain knowledge in something that I’d already learn in the workplace? Grad school has seriously put me in my place. In all aspects. I have great friends and they’re my support system, because they’re definitely going through the same crap as I am; but once the academia storm dies down, what’s left?

I remember during finals, I felt so alone. So incredibly alone. Everyone went home and all my friends left. I had to wait it out a couple of days before my LA friends came down to watch a play with me, but during those two days, I was kinda scared. My roommate left for snowboarding while I was just me in the apartment. Usually I lust after these quiet moments, but after the wake of finals, it was just me. I was sitting in my bed, trying to read, and I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t take the silence, the loneliness, the solitude of being by myself. I tried to meditate and all I could think about was how freaking quiet everything was. Even when I was blasting Family Guy, all I could hear was nothing. To be fair, at the time, I was trying to get over someone. It was never going to happen, and I just had to deal with that. I mean, I could have a harmless schoolboy crush right? Yeah, right. It’s me we’re talking about here.

In the end, yeah, I did get over the crush, and Kim and Simon did eventually come down. But being in that place for only two days…::shudder::…I never want to have to go through that again. It made me realize that I felt alone. That I needed someone to just cuddle up next to and breathe in their smell and just be quiet. It wasn’t the silence that was killing me, it was the non-companionshipness that I’ve been craving since forever.

And that makes me wonder if my recent crush is real or not. I mean, am I really smitten? Do I really want to pursue this or do I just need something that’s not school related to dwell on? My friend says that it doesn’t matter, just to have fun with this, but then again it’s me we’re talking about. Me, who throws myself knee deep in crap that I didn’t necessarily have to be thrown in. And oddly, the more I push him away and the more I don’t want to like him, the more things I find out about him that make him ideal and perfect for me. On paper, we’re seriously the best thing since air, but in person, we’re just…

I feel like he’s holding back on something. Or perhaps maybe he’s just not that into me. Which then unleashes a torrential rain of insecurities on my part. Apparently he asked me out for wine earlier and I shot him down. To make a longer story short, we went out for wine. Me, him, two of his friends and one of my friends. Great date, huh? But I notieced something. When we were talking on the subject of gay guys in the program, he kept saying the stereotypically physically gay guys were cute. And that definitely didn’t help me any. I mean, he’s not ripped or anything, I’d say we’re probably the same body type, but I mean does a blond, blue eyed, tall whitey mcwhite want to date a short, stumpy, balding Asian man? I just get so sick of this all.

I’m getting angry and frustrated just typing this out. I mean, I know that my insecurities are just that—insecurities. But com’on, give me a break. I mean, for once I don't want to be bogged down by every damn, what I perceive to be, flaw. Why can’t I just accept who I am and love me for me? I just hate this. I hate that I have to compare myself to other people. I hate that my insecurities paralyze me. I hate that I’m so freaking needy. I hate that I can’t see completely all the great things that I have to offer. I hate the fact that I can’t even see my own good qualities. How messed up is that? Why can’t I just see past these damn insecurities and just be happy with it all? I know I’d be that much happier.

I keep telling myself that I’m good enough, that I’m a great catch, but am I? Maybe one day it’ll be true? I’m serious. I’m 22, haven’t even had a real relationship underneath my belt, and a virgin. I see all my friends having these crazy stories with their amazing hook ups or their current wonderful boy/girlfriends and I have my right hand?

I’m so angry at myself. So angry that I care about these superficial statuses and so angry that I put so much weight in these things.

Isn’t it these things that make us human? These simple and superficial wants. I mean, what human doesn’t crave attention from someone they like? We all wish we could change something about ourselves. We all want to be that image of perfection that we have in our minds, yet nature and genetics seem to have a different path for us. For once, I just want something in the relationship department to go right for me. I want to be swept off my feet. I want them to make me feel like I’m the most perfect guy for them in the world. I want to know that I’m wanted. I want to know that I’m beautiful, both on the inside AND the outside for someone.

I’m tried of staying strong and thinking it’ll come soon. I’m tried saying “I deserve someone better than them” just because I was rejected. What kind of stupid consolation prize is that?

I know I’m at a low point, and feeling really vulnerable and my attitude will probably pick up, but damn, I’m feeling like crap. Where’s some mindless chick flick when I need it to whisk me away from me?

Save me.

Heh, what sucks is that I can only save myself. And I hate that. Why can’t someone for once save me? Save me? Right. What a load of crap. When my fantasy comes true, that’ll be the day.

I’ll know I’ll probably wake up tomorrow, and piece together the mess I made tonight. Glue it together with what’s left of my resolve and forge into the next week. But for now, I’m going to wallow in this for now.

. : Kicking and Screaming : .

Thu, 20 Sep 2007 03:50:31 GMT

So I'll admit. I'm scared. To death. I'm pretty sure I'm psyching myself out, but still. I'm kicking and screaming until school starts. I really don't want to do this. I've never been so insecure and unsure about something before than this. Starting grad school. Man, what the hell did I get myself into?

Everyone keeps saying how difficult the program is and how much well learn, but I saw some of the second years today and man. They looked HAGGARD! Really, do I really need to look older? I'm so scared that I won't be able to cut this program. I'm just so scared that I'll have to drop out because it gets so hard. I don't think I've ever come across anything that I couldn't conquer and this is the first one. It's so unnerving knowing that there's something out there that I'm going into full knowing that I could get knocked out in the first two seconds I'm in there.

I'm totally having my first grad school freak out. This isn't just a mini one, I mean I'm just freaking out because I'm not sure if I can cut it. I see my classmates and they seem so experienced and knowing what they got themselves into. It seriously seems like I'm the only one that went into this thing blindly.

I'm not sure what I thought grad school was, I guess just an extension of undergrad? I mean isn't that what it's suppose to be? It seems like a ginormous jump, that once in grad school, you're suppose to be this amazing academic who knows everything and wants to learn more.

I don't think I've ever been more unnerved before in my life.

What did I get myself into?

Monday, September 03, 2007

Mon, 03 Sep 2007 08:11:24 GMT

I can't sleep.

It's been a week.

It hurts.

All over--

and then some.

. : A Case of Me : .

Sat, 18 Aug 2007 21:22:41 GMT

I wish that I could say that since my last entry things have been looking up. And at times, they were. But in general things have just been...scattered. When I tell people about my summer, it sounds somewhat exciting and adventurous, but honestly I have no idea where my heart is any more. I feel so, well, scattered. So far I've been to New York City, saw Avenue Q there, then went to China and spent eighteen days in Shanghai. After I went to Maui for a week for fun. Awesome, right? And it is, but something was just missing. I'm not sure what though. I mean, why is it that nothing that I've done this summer has been satisfying?

I was expecting this summer to be great, to be glorious. Like the summer between high school and college. You know, a break from one phase of school to another. Things have changed since high school, that's for sure. I guess it is a bit naive of me to expect that it'll be the same, the same kind of carefreeness. And though I've done nothing this past summer like I've wanted, something still nagging at me. I'm still kicking and screaming to San Diego. I say to people that it's because I don't want to go back to school, which is true, but what's the alternative? Bumming around? Finding a job? Integrating into the real world? It's true, I don't want to have to face the reality of work and the "real world," but it's there right in front of my face. I'm probably making something out of nothing. I'm really good at that. But something just doesn't feel right.

How come all of a sudden after college we're thrown to the throes of the world? I mean, at the age of twenty-two, we're suppose to all of a sudden grow up? Okay, that sounds a bit melodramatic, but it's kinda true. We get our bachelor degree and some of us go on to med school or whatever school and the rest just start working and that's basically it. Then we're suppose to meet someone, get married, settle down and have 2.3 kids. Doesn't that sound a bit rushed? Maybe it's the fact that I haven't really figured out who I am yet, which I don't think we ever will but--I think I maybe thinking too much into it.

So I think this mini freak out is brought down by the fact that I'm starting grad school in a few days and the fact that I've lost at the whole dating thing...twice. Ha. So I signed up on match.com. Yes, yes, I know. It's kinda pathetic, but hey I've been trying to get out there more. And I've been on one date, which was eh and been talking to another one who doesn't return my emails. And though this recent activity in the dating realm, it's so taxing. The date went okay. We still email each other but we just didn't click, which is okay. But it's the other guy that really irks me. I mean at least with the date we talked, emailed and met and had an okay time. But I know it's probably not going to work out, at least I've gained a new friend. But the one who doesn't return my emails, I mean, com'on.

It was a little too good to be true, I must admit. It was seriously like the ideal person for me, *plus* their Buddhist. A devout Buddhist. I mean, that's just icing on the cake. But it's been almost two weeks since the last email. We've only had about five correspondences. Yeah, maybe they're just not that into me, but at least let me know? I don't know. Okay I even tried to think of all the nuerotic ways that I could try to go crazy to scare the other person away, if I said anything offensive, mean, rude, crazy, or whatever. Nothing. I know that they travel for work and they've said that work takes up a lot of time, but still. With the amount of time my family works, I mean who better to understand that than me; but we still make time to email people.

I'll admit, I did check a little compulsively on match.com to see if they signed on or whatever, and on the days that they did, nothing. Not sure if you guys know this but on match.com, you can see whose viewed your profile. Needless to say, they know that I check every so often. So last night I went into crazy mode and try to look up the profile. Nothing. Great. Either a) they hide their profile or b) I got blocked and they never want anything to do with me ever again. So in the crazy mode that I'm in I create another profile (remember, I said I was crazy here) to look them up. Nothing. So maybe they are hiding? I don't know. But it just sucks you know?

People say you have to take risks and put yourself out there and it completely blows. I mean, they don't tell you that 99% of the time it's going to be a rejection. It's hard to not take personally. It brings out all the insecurities inside me. Did I do something wrong? Did I say somethign? Am I too ugly? Am I too fat for this person? Am I this? Am I that? Was it blah blah blah blah blah blah. It's so annoying and disconcerting. It seems only losers and freaks are attracted to me. I mean, why is it that when I want someone normal it's just not in my cards? Why can't I just have someone into me and I'm into them? That's the question of the century I suppose.

And what even sucks is that last night I realized that non-email-returner person looks like a certain someone. I'm seriously crazy. I'm seriously going insane. I mean what the hell (I even had a horrible dream). I'm thinking of talking to someone, but I know what they'll say. "The only person holding you back is you." And all that fluff crap.

Right. That whole novel (if you got through it) is basically a sum of why this summer sucked. I just hoped for something different, you know? When things finally went my way, when things were looking up. I just...I just hate it when you think something good's going to happen and then your rudely dropped from your high...when someone doesn't return emails. I mean, this rollercoaster of emotions needs to stop. But I gues that's just how life goes.

So as I leave for San Diego, I'm trying to go with a clean slate, a clean heart, and zero expectations. But really, who am I kidding. You all know that in the back of my head I'm thinking about meeting that special someone on the first day of class and then they'll be another entry about how much grad school sucks. HA!

Until then crazies, "you taste so bitter but you taste so sweet, but I could have a drink a case of you, darling, and still be on my feet."

. : 明天別來: .

Thu, 10 May 2007 07:47:05 GMT

明天我就知道了。

好像我等了很久，可是時間到了而我不想知道Stanford的答案。最奇怪的是，我還是有希望。奇怪嗎？我頭腦知道我沒入序，可是我還有希望。我一直在想想我進入到Stanford的話，我的生活會怎樣。在夢想中，我是我辦的黑羊：搬上最年輕的，沒有商業經驗，搬上最尷尬的。可是畢業后，我是班上最聰明的。有點幼子而愚蠢，我知道我的想象不是很實際。

不過最後，還是我的希望一直在閙我。事實上我已知道有一個很大的可能我沒入序，可是我心裏還在希望。一直希望。

這兩個字：希望。真強。

不過，我不想一輩子一直希望，我想把這些希望成爲實現的目的。