sesame seeds;

I'm still in disbelief.

I'm interning at Glamour this summer!

I'm going to die in NY!

Yay!

My birthday is a week from today. :)

-# of times heart was nearly broken, but salvaged: 1
-# of classes failed: 0
-# of toenails broken: 1
-# of major injuries: 0
-# of drunken shoe-losing incidents: 2
-# of pounds gained: 4
-# of questionable hookups: 1
-# of all-nighters: too many to count

A year's worth of progress?

Hi friends,

Classes were cancelled for the week as of Tuesday mid-morning due to the san diego wildfires. We'd mostly been watching the news and vegetating in the apartment. More like baking, really, because it was so warm. The air quality on campus is pretty bad - ashy and kind of hard to breathe. They're even passing out masks at the cafeteria.

So Tuesday late afternoon we decided to jump ship; we drove up to norcal last night, passing the Camp Pendleton fire at about 9 PM. Apparently around 12 AM, it crossed the freeway... effectively closing the i-5. Close call.

While I don't think we were in any immediate danger on campus, everyone's left now and it's pretty dead. You could see a bunch of people packing up and walking around with their luggage all of yesterday. A lot of my friends who live about 15 minutes away have been evacuated, and everyone knows a friend of a friend whose house or neighborhood is burning down. The reality of it is pretty frightening - one of my buildingmates from last year who's more or less an alcoholic had killed a fifth of Jack by midday Monday. His best friend's house caught flames, and his own home was very much in danger of doing so too. No update on what's happened to it now.

It all kind of puts a damper on Halloween weekend but I suppose we're at least spared the tragedy of our Halloween parties, which are all kinds of horrible. I think on Friday, we're going to head back down to celebrate at UCLA/USC, and maybe I'll visit the relatives in Irvine while I'm at it. I mean, with classes cancelled and all, most profs are just pushing the midterms back a few days (ugh - bad because they may coincide with my November birthday). I in fact had a midterm Monday morning. I'd studied up til 5 AM, napped for two hours, and studied again at 7 AM... only to find out at 8 that class was cancelled for the day. I don't think I'm going to retain much knowledge in the course of a week. Ahh.

tomorrow i leave for my second year of college.

on wednesday we went to wendy's apartment in davis. eight girls, one costco size bottle of grey goose = a game of 10 fingers. security guard walking in on us waving our tops in the air while in the hot tub (a collective dare). one of the most hilarious moments of my life. "why are you in my pool, when my pool had a padlocked gate. why are you in my pool, not wearing your tops." haha. all with a smile though. that perv.

i just got my nails did, so no caps and no apostrophes because those are unnecessary forms of labor that in all likelihood will destroy the twenty dollars worth of effort that ngoc thi lam invested. not that she did a very good job. ugh. the worst thing ever is getting a bad manicure because even if its bad it kills to take it off because you paid good money for it.

before that, i got my hair cut by the most delicious gay man. he is funny and fabulous and i am walking on sunshine with my new bangin cut. afterwards sammy and i grabbed lunch at a little italian place across the street. i had too much coffee this morning though and that did not sit well in my stomach at all.

on thursday, i got a facial. and permed my eyelashes. it aint easy lookin good kids. haha. jk. but hmm, im not so sure what really compelled me to allow someone to put chemicals anywhere near my eyes. but my sparse little asian lashes now no longer require the constant squeezing of eyelash curler pads. afterwards, i went to my little indian lady's house for ten mins of eyebrow threading.

so basically, im ready to go to the prom? hahah no but i do have that little spring in my step from pampering the hell out of myself this week. and if you were wondering yes it is breaking the bank. my internship in taiwan was minimum wage which is like, three dollars an hour in america money which i definitely ate away in the form of sesame balls and shave ice and dumplings.  i dont even want to look because im pretty sure ill cringe. or slit my wrists. or something to that effect. but im working as copy editor to the school paper this year. hopefully getting a job at the bookstore or coffee shop or student center. and then my blogging job should bring in 250 by the holidays. so i will make up for it. i hope.

my brother just bought me an ipod armband thing which i have been needing for awhile. i always whack my ipod and it falls down and gets stuck in the treadmill (it was in the school gym treadmill over winter break...) so i really needed it. i really need to roll in some dough for xmas shopping - i want to get him cologne, my dad and ipod, and my mom a louis bag. for the bffs sammy and sylvie, personalized blankets or dogtags. im cute. i know.

anyway. im so mad because im on waitlists for my classes. fuck public school. how is a girl supposed to get a freakin education when i cant even enroll in the things i need to graduate.

oh, and its time to start planning summer 2008.
options include
1 - study abroad in china. olympics !
2 - get a job in china. olympics !
sylvie and sammy are both going to china summer 2008 so it could be the time of my life.
but also
3 - do an internship in ny at the company i blog for.
hm. definitely more career-furthering than china, plus i could always go to china during the school year. but id hate to miss out on fun with friends.
4 - stay in san diego for summer school.
ugh. that would be tragic but i might have to do it at the rate im NOT getting into my classes.
5 - stay at home, and shoot for an intership at nbc.
tolerable, but i dont need my mom breathing down my back for another summer. nor do i need to fight with my brother over who gets the car.

okay im done rambling. heres to another school year... a 3.5+ gpa, better friendships, better relationships. less vodka, more gym, less marijuana, more class, less tears, more workouts. get a job and dont make out with boys if i dont know their last name.

yeah that sounds about right.

This may sound ridiculous but where else can I sound honest and ridiculous but my own vox?

Yesterday, for the first time in awhile, I felt exceptionally lonely. I'd say it's PMS except I just got off my period.

Then vodka made it go away.

Tonight, I feel the same way again. Trouble is, I have no vodka.

I used to truly not understand how people could be depressed, but now I have an idea. I suddenly felt like I'm surrounded by people who I care little for. I'm crying out for something, something that I don't even know what it is. I just feel horribly distanced. I feel like I'm watching my own life from the outside in... just seeing it go by, day after day. It's just... listless, I think is the best word to describe it.

But absolutely nothing in my life is actually triggering this emotional overcast, so I almost want to pin it on like, an inner chemical imbalance or something to that effect. I've been irritated at everyone lately... and I feel bad, because people mean well - I'm just touchy. It's strange because I have seriously always been that happy almost to the point of being annoying type. But these days I feel close to no one - my best friend's busy and back at college already, my other closest girlfriend starts school tomorrow, and I'm left with these people who want to grab coffee and party and go to the pool and shop, but who I feel no desire at all to talk to. Seroiusly, I feel both socially lethargic and socially petrified. I don't know what happened to that high school editor-in-chief, student body vice president girl that was always dying for a little more. I need one of those teenage self-help books. Who Am I and What is Happening to My Body? Is It Okay to Feel This Way?

I just want to take a hot bath and listen to Colbie Caillat. And then eat my sorrows in the form of Baskin Robbins' mint chip ice cream.

Edit: I changed my mind. Ice cream cake would be better.

This may sound ridiculous but where else can I sound honest and ridiculous but my own vox?

Yesterday, for the first time in awhile, I felt exceptionally lonely. I'd say it's PMS except I just got off my period.

Then vodka made it go away.

Tonight, I feel the same way again. Trouble is, I have no vodka.

I used to truly not understand how people could be depressed, but now I have an idea. I suddenly felt like I'm surrounded by people who I care little for. I'm crying out for something, something that I don't even know what it is. I just feel horribly distanced. I feel like I'm watching my own life from the outside in... just seeing it go by, day after day. It's just... listless, I think is the best word to describe it.

But absolutely nothing in my life is actually triggering this emotional overcast, so I almost want to pin it on like, an inner chemical imbalance or something to that effect. I've been irritated at everyone lately... and I feel bad, because people mean well - I'm just touchy. It's strange because I have seriously always been that happy almost to the point of being annoying type. But these days I feel close to no one - my best friend's busy and back at college already, my other closest girlfriend starts school tomorrow, and I'm left with these people who want to grab coffee and party and go to the pool and shop, but who I feel no desire at all to talk to. Seroiusly, I feel both socially lethargic and socially petrified. I don't know what happened to that high school editor-in-chief, student body vice president girl that was always dying for a little more. I need one of those teenage self-help books. Who Am I and What is Happening to My Body? Is It Okay to Feel This Way?

I just want to take a hot bath and listen to Colbie Caillat. And then eat my sorrows in the form of Baskin Robbins' mint chip ice cream.

Edit: I changed my mind. Ice cream cake would be better.

Last night I got trashed for the first time since school ended in June. After taking 3 shots and shotgunning 4 beers, I was as good as it gets before it all goes downhill. Apparently my month and a half long hiatus has not lowered my tolerance any, much to my dismay. I'm one of those people who can't enjoy a mild buzz. My philosophy is... go big or go home, which is not good for my waistline or my mental health - this I know. Yet when I drink I only constantly want to feel it more. Let go a little more. Remember a little less. Escape prosaic reality.

I remember the first time I drank at prom, I made out with S unashamedly in front of... well... everyone at the hotel party. I know this sounds terrible to say, but I miss that feeling of losing control... of just going with gut instinct when under the influence. These days the line between just letting go a little more and completely relinquishing any power over myself is only barely there. Used to be able to have a good time just kicking back with a couple of beers and a couple of friends, but no longer is such the case. I know I must be getting pretty tipsy because my memory no longer serves to recount the logical order of last night's events, but honestly I just wanted to heighten - or to numb? - it all more and more as the minutes crept by.

So for this reason, I suppose, alcohol has, to an extent, lost its appeal. But I'm only so young once. While you're in college years - it's just called college. A little farther down the road, they call it alcoholism. To think society expects me to spend only the next 10 years of my life following suit. I think by the time I'm legal, my weekends will involve granny hobbies, and craftmaking will override margaritas.

I think we're polar opposites in that I express myself so much better in written form. I'd way rather write a long e-mail or have an online conversation - is that pathetic? I mean in a way I suppose it's like I'm too afraid of actual confrontation, of being able to say what I need to say face to face. But I'm just not good at keeping my emotions in check when we're together. So it's easier to write.

I open the door and climbed up into the seat. It smells funny, it always does, like a mix of seafood and smoke, but I'm used to it.

I ask the usual questions. How's work. How was the roadtrip. It was okay, he says.

Silence. I hate that he does this. Why the fuck does he call me to talk if we're going to sit in silence for an awkward 87 seconds.

And then he starts. Where did we go wrong? What changed? What happened? Why aren't we the same anymore? he asks.

I will not break. Tonight is not going to be one for tears. I've had enough of those. I will not let him ruin my night. I am cold. I turn to stare out the window. I thought I explained everything to you, I say. I thought you understood. You said you got it, that I said all I needed to say.

His eyes plead with me again. Just say it to me in person, one more time.

I can't. I will break down, I know it. I turn away again. I'm tired of this - I don't want to talk about it anymore.

You've changed, he says.

You dipshit, I think. Just because my feelings have changed doesn't mean I'm a different person.

(Note: somehow in my subconscious, my favorite choice of swear words are "dipshit" and "fuckwad.")

He speeds, races the car down the block - I'm thrown by the force of the speed bump. Please don't speed, I say. He knows I always ask him to drive safe.

It's my car and I can drive it how I fucking want to. Not like I didn't on the way here, with you fucking calling me every minute, he says.

I'm genuinely hurt by his words. I blink the tears away.

You changed while you were gone, he repeats. I knew it would happen.

I press my lips together, not giving myself away. I won't anymore - won't let him hurt me like he always does. The old him would never have driven recklessly with me in the car. I tell him, Just drive me back.

Sorry, he says.

He's always sorry. Sorry can't always cut it. I'm sorry, it's all my fault, he says again.

I get out, slam the door shut. The end of another era.

Now how the hell do we do this thing called dating?

What would you consider to be your 15 minutes of fame so far in life?

Performing at Carnegie Hall in 1998. (Mozart, it was.) I was 9. The local Chinese newspaper wrote an article on me, accompanied by one of those awkward school photos of me with overgrown eyebrows, unnaturally clutching a tree trunk. They asked me how many hours I practiced a day - even my 9-year-old self overanalyzed such questions. I deemed it un-role-model-like behavior to make other aspiring child concert pianists everywhere believe one could only play 1 hour or so on a good day and make it big when obviously I just had a load of luck my side to even out all the tragedies in my life. Like ugly fingernails. And arm hair. (Though recently I read that it just means you have more testosterone - great, way to confirm that I'm more of a man than my bulging triceps suggest. But it's also supposed to be directly linked to a more voracious sexual appetite... which explains a lot of things...) Anyway, so I said 4. My mother laughed out loud when she read the paper.

I always was a good liar.

(PS. Kidding about the bulging triceps. Biceps, however, are another story.)