regret

This feeling is mutual and universal. It is the "Language of the World" as quoted in The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho (fantastic, inspiring novel, btw).

I go through the phase perpetually. The "should-have" and "would-have" and "could-have" sentiments hit me almost as regularly as those random pains in the ass (not metaphorically; my ass seriously hurts at times). I think about how my life would have been different if I had just, I don't know... not been a total loser. Or whether or not I should have eaten that fajita burrito. Or how I could have found more productive things to do this summer (like a job). I could have been something- now I'm just quoting "On the Waterfront" (a classic must-see, btw)- but ultimately, I am not. And this is not the time in my life when I should be having doubts about myself and self esteem issues but the thing about those would-should-coulds is that there's nothing I can do about it. That's essentially where life likes to bite people in the ass-- and for me, almost literally. It's what defines failure and success. I mean, if everyone did what they should have done, there would be no evil in this world ergo, there would be no need for police ergo, a movie like Superbad would not exist. And that, my friends, is the apocalypse.

So what is the point of this entry? I have no pretty pictures to show of my yellowing backyard. I can talk about my day but who gives a flying fish. I'm a sucker and a failure but what am I going to do, start giving a care? All I know is that I refrained from using the f-bomb twice in this paragraph and I deserve a pat on the back.

On the road to purity and success. FTW

P.S: somebody, I won't mention names, deliberately called Rachel dumb. That means see you at your grave. That means watch out. I can put my foot behind my head. Biatch~

bitter...sweet...?

Hello, all

The school year of 2007-2008 is finally over. More importantly, Rachel's junior year is over. feelings? bittersweet...? no. just sweet. I don't understand how ANYONE could feel bitter after finishing a treacherous year of school. Sure, the seniors are leaving for college and summer means not being able to see friends every day and, for study-holics like Jacqueline Liu, not being able to study something.

But friends! The "sweet" really does overcome the "bitter." Summer means laboring under the globally warmed sun, sweating profusely, cramming AP Lit and AP Gov homework, not having a job and therefore being broke, not having a driver's license, starting on college apps, studying for SATs, studying for De Anza classes, gaining weight, getting dumber, being abandoned by both mothers, turning into a recluse, and ultimately, failing at life.

so, I lie. feelings are now just bitter.

it is coming to a close

• Congrats ECYS '08!
• The Lynbrook graduating class
  
• Weeds
• Sam Chen ??
  
• The prospects of my life
  

There will be essays on the aforementioned topics in the near future. Literally.

dancing through life

Hello world!

My past week has been quite the roller coaster... like the Grizzly in Great America. Why is this the best analogy? The Grizzly is the rockiest, most painful, and funnest roller coaster in the whole amusement park. I lie, it is not the funnest but it IS somewhat fun so...
anyways. the reason why I say that is because this week has been quite rocky, painful and fun. I had a little panic attack for the last physics test of the year on Wednesday, my caffeine addiction was quite painful to deal with, and Rockband became a necessity in my life. I shall expand on that later but more importantly now:

PROS AND CONS: AP GOV/ECON
pros: I will not have only 3 AP classes in high school.
Everybody else is doing it...?
I will be disowned if I don't.
It is rumoured to be not that difficult
More interesting since reg. gov will be full of dumb white kids like this year.

cons: I have AP lit and if I didn't take AP gov, I MAY get an A
Less to do during summer.
Kind of BS AP class. J.Young says some colleges don't even count it.
Busy work. More time to expand my horizons.. discover my destiny.. find myself

still in rough decision but... in the end, who cares. I don't. I am more concerned abut physics H now. which I would talk about but I don't feel like it.

Anyways, surprise to you, Jacqueline Liu, if you read this, but I can no longer get a gym membership. Why? Because my sister disapproves and if she does, it is law. I will be dragged out to go running with her every morning and whatnot but if it does not work out, I shall join thee at Right Stuff. I don't necessarily desire to be a stick and anorexic looking like Jacqueline, but I'd like to be fit and healthy and not the stuffy, obese marshmallow I am now.

Putting that aside, I realized that my I was born to be obese. I am the happiest when eating and my body structure is allows me to eat nonstop and my mouth is huge.

More? okay, more. I do not understand men who are fruits. I mean, I am an in-the-closet feminist but I cannot deny that men are supposed to be the dominant sex. They always have been. It'd be nice for a change and all because I do disapprove of the degrading and inferior image that women are still expected to live by in modern day society, but that does not mean that men should turn into... fruits. I understand the concept of the survival of the fittest and the impossibility of two dominant coexisting natures but it is even shameful to me to see men who appear as if they have given up the perpetual fight. These fruits seek constant reassurance of their appearance, attractiveness, intelligence, and ultimately: their masculinity. They are codependent and clingy. They are, in other words, WIMPS.
As ridiculous as it may sound, I honestly place half the blame of these creatures on brands such as Abercrombie and Fitch and Hollister. I'm not much to say because I am not in date with the fashion industry's status quo, but I believe that the new generation of fruity "men" is conjured from those baby pink t-shirts that say "Real men wear pink." I do not joke. In the coming age of escalating self consciousness and the obsession with metro fashion, what man can spend time at bars watching "the game" instead of at the mall, looking for the perfect skinny jeans that are just sexy enough but not yet screaming "gay." And again, as all unnatural and unwanted phenomenons in the world, the blame is traced back to women. Women who idolize the pretty boys have usurped the system and forced pressure on men to live up to higher, and inevitably, fruitier standards.

So if you are a man. And you somehow happen to be reading this (which I believe is even more questionable because what real man would want to read whiny ramblings of two teenager girls?) Speaking of whining, this has gone on for too long so I shall leave off with this (HA)
I started this rant because I have been accosted by the fruity man gender recently and I would just like to tell this gender to please grow some.

Good luck and good night.

...

As I was surfing the WWW, I came across an article written about two years ago on a newly discovered restaurant that serves certain delectable dishes. ...

Situated in an elegantly restored house beside Beijing's West Lake, it is China's first speciality penis restaurant.

Oh my damn.

For beginners, Miss Zhu recommended the hotpot, which offers a sampling of what the restaurant has to offer - six types of penis, and four of testicle, boiled in chicken stock by the waitress, Liu Yunyang, 22.

The Russian dog was first. It was julienned, and rather gamey.

And then descriptions of other delightful delicacies ensue...

The ox was, of all six, the most recognisable for what it was, even though it had been diced. In texture seemed identical to gristle.

The deer and the Mongolian goat were surprisingly similar: a little stringy, they had the appearance and feel of overcooked squid tentacles. The Xinjiang horse and the donkey, on the other hand, were quite different. Though both came sliced lengthwise, and looked like bacon, the horse was light and fatty, while the donkey had a firm colour and taste. The testicles were slightly crumbly, and tasted better with lashings of the sesame, soy and chilli dips thoughtfully provided.

You then really have to ask, "Do the waitresses that work here have boyfriends?"

On another note, what the hell is this???

the stream of consciousness

This isn't really a stream of consciousness. At least, I'm hoping it won't be, but I don't plan out what I'm going to say before I click "new post" so we will see what unfolds.

Two days ago, we had a fetal pig dissection during biology. I thought that I'd be at least half grossed out, but I surprisingly had an uncanny fascination with ripping out the pig's organs. I am proud to say that I ripped out its heart with the minute assistance of my lab mates! Actually, I don't really remember how much we all contributed to this region of the specimen's body, but I can say that I played a fairly big role. Our entire lab group really wanted to check out the brain, though (we did not receive directions to do so and therefore, being the good students we are, failed to make a single incision into the skull.) Unfortunate.

I apologize, but there are no photos available... I did see a student snapping away at his camera, but I think that was for our teacher's future powerpoints or something.

Anyhow... I have been regularly seeing my chiropractor about two times a week for about a month now. My most recent appointment was on Tuesday when it was declared that I only had to visit the clinic once a week! Karma became the llama and during third period today, my neck spazzed and my head remained tilted (to the right) for hours before I sped home during the lunch period, popped two advils, and put myself to bed for 20 minutes. I am happy to say that when I rose from my slumber, my neck could manage to stay straight, though I was still in pain (and I continue to strain now.)

Good news has to come sometime and I am happy to announce that a date for my court appearance, regarding the traffic ticket I received in April, has been established. Still in a few weeks or so, specifically, the day before my birthday, I will be meeting the judge and jury (or whomever) and will, hopefully, reduce my fine.

AND according to my lit teacher, I have a knack for poetry. I will be off to write my prose in a stream of consciousness within the 30 minutes I have before orchestra dress rehearsal.

PS) My brother is home from college!

the truth about obscenity

recently, I have been told that this blog is blocked on my friend's computer because it is "tasteless or obscene."

I've been called tasteless before, especially in the winter time when I have no clothes to wear so I must resort to picking up bits and pieces of scraps from the depths of my closet. But obscene? Never.

Let me tell you what is really tasteless: ugg boots, crocs, and neon pants; what is really obscene: when your six foot tall, bald, middle aged music teacher puts on a wig and a dress and prances around the stage.

On a side note, David Cook won American Idol. And I knew it. It's my bloody sixth sense. I just have it.

I know why my junioritis is at an all time high. it is because I am surrounded by seniors who just don't give a care in the world anymore and by juniors who are done with AP tests and no longer have a direction in life. so damn you all.

Counting down until FTTS... and staring at my toenail... or lackthereof. -_-

peace