Yesterday, I did laundry. And all day, I told people I did laundary. How embarrassing. The point is, I did laundry and all my clothes shrank. I also realized I only wear sold colored v-neck tshirts. I realized this when Kelly, my roommate, was like "Rachel, do you basically wear only solid color v-necks?" And I looked at my hands as I stacked my laundered shirts into my drawer, saw the three fruit of the loom white tees in one hand and 4 Hanes white tees in the other and thought, yeah. I do. And then she said "You're boring" and I probably called her a bitch because that is how I roll.
Speaking of which
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
I peed 5 times in 2 hours!
note the time on this thing! it'll blow your mind. not really if you really know me.
no, I'm not up early. I'm up really late.
there's nothing worse than being kicked out of your own room when you want to study for a midterm about your own race. that you know you're going to fail. which just makes a sad life even sadder. because it's like rachel, how hard can it be to learn about asian people?
asian people are so complicated you actually have no idea how hard it can actually be to learn about them.
I'm back to my radiohead phase too. this means my life is getting sadder and sadder and that I contemplate suicide more than I used to. HAHA okay not that extreme. never suicide... maybe something like idk, failing out or like just going to bed and never waking up shit like that you know?
My body is exhausted
no, I'm not up early. I'm up really late.
there's nothing worse than being kicked out of your own room when you want to study for a midterm about your own race. that you know you're going to fail. which just makes a sad life even sadder. because it's like rachel, how hard can it be to learn about asian people?
asian people are so complicated you actually have no idea how hard it can actually be to learn about them.
I'm back to my radiohead phase too. this means my life is getting sadder and sadder and that I contemplate suicide more than I used to. HAHA okay not that extreme. never suicide... maybe something like idk, failing out or like just going to bed and never waking up shit like that you know?
My body is exhausted
Thursday, October 1, 2009
dedicated to jerrie
On cloud nine, the heart-stopping anxiety dulls. Now it's smothered like a bruise. I don't know why Jerrie told me to do this but I was excited by the fact that someone will be reading this. So yeeeeeeah enjoy this as you laugh at me from the hallway and give me those JUDGMENT EYES and make me feel bad because you also once called me fat.
"I'm ready" -Thom Yorke
Radiohead is by far the best essay writing music. Not trance.
I found out a few days ago that I am a light fanatic. Because it "juxtaposes the darkness of my heart"
Horrid thought, no! not here!
Your honky gramma be trippin'
This was a very interesting experience, Jerrie. There are undiscovered patches in the mind that kind of spill all over the place.
But yes, I do worry for myself at times like this. At the point of no return, the tipping point, the four corners ( I made that last one up ) When I dream I only dream of the future. which just saddens me when I wake up. doesn't that suck.
"I'm ready" -Thom Yorke
Radiohead is by far the best essay writing music. Not trance.
I found out a few days ago that I am a light fanatic. Because it "juxtaposes the darkness of my heart"
Horrid thought, no! not here!
Your honky gramma be trippin'
This was a very interesting experience, Jerrie. There are undiscovered patches in the mind that kind of spill all over the place.
But yes, I do worry for myself at times like this. At the point of no return, the tipping point, the four corners ( I made that last one up ) When I dream I only dream of the future. which just saddens me when I wake up. doesn't that suck.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
that party last night
today will be about college.
college is not doing me much good. it is accentuating all my bad habits and making me even lazier than i was (if that's even possible.)
however, i'm also doing a lot of breaking out of the comfort zone and experiencing new things.
I also do a lot of missing and random nostalging and reminiscing and sighing
however, I am also meeting new people, getting closer to people, and learning stories of these people's epic lives.
all in all, college for me has been a mixed bag. it's great, i'm having fun, but at times stifling. I know right, i'm set out into the world of independence but sometimes the freedom is stifling. i need to be grounded.
college is not doing me much good. it is accentuating all my bad habits and making me even lazier than i was (if that's even possible.)
however, i'm also doing a lot of breaking out of the comfort zone and experiencing new things.
I also do a lot of missing and random nostalging and reminiscing and sighing
however, I am also meeting new people, getting closer to people, and learning stories of these people's epic lives.
all in all, college for me has been a mixed bag. it's great, i'm having fun, but at times stifling. I know right, i'm set out into the world of independence but sometimes the freedom is stifling. i need to be grounded.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
tributes
so today, on my usual "eavesdropping on mother's phone conversations in case she talks smack about me" missions, I heard my mom talking to a friend of hers who wanted to know about the good violin teachers in town. Of course, my mom recommended my own violin teacher, Davis Law. And usually, when I determine that the conversation is indeed not about me, I tune her out, but this time, I couldn't tear myself away. the almost 7 years I spent under Davis' helping hand all came flooding my memory and I suddenly became extremely nostalgic and just bloody fucking sad.
Davis, I guess, was one of those people in my life who grew on me. We never started off as best friends... I remember the few times I've sat in the car ride back with tears after a disappointing lesson- not even few times, it must have been dozens. But as I grew, he grew with me. By the end of our lessons, we had grown into the best of friends- he knew of all the burdens that even my friends did not know of, he offered the truest, soundest, and wisest of advices, he made me truly laugh, and basically made me believe that I could accomplish what I have now. He is living proof that the best friendships develop over time. And though it took us almost 5 years to get to that point, his presence in more than a third of my life has deeply and thoroughly affected me. He not only made me a better violinist (kind of), but he also made me a better person. I still think back to all the times I would go into his lesson feeling like absolute rubbish all through junior year, but come out feeling refresh and rejuvenated. I remember the time I was extremely wound up because I was caught in a tight situation regarding my mother, and he talked me through the mess, ignored the frustration in the massacre I made of the Mendelssohn because he understood what I was going through. And then he would believe in me when I felt virtually no one did. He didn't judge me, berate me, hate me, or lecture me when I told him about the incident junior year that I don't talk about much because it still kind of kills me a little inside. Sometimes I'd wait on telling my parents any good news so I could tel Davis first. I remember that baffled and slightly disgusted look on his face as I sat before my lesson next to his trash can clipping my nails. And the way our conversations always started: "Did you practice?" "Nope" "Why not?" Or when he'd pick at my inferiority complex to my sister, laugh and joke about it, then remind me of how capable I am. Or the time he slapped a bug on his hand with such force, my mom jumped in her seat. Or his bad ankle and how he went through a month with it propped up on a chair next to him. Or the multitudes of college sweatshirts he wore, the UCDavis one being his favorite. And how he would offer me kimbabs that his wife would pack him every week, proudly stating the ingredients to each kind (those were goddamn delicious too.) Then he'd nudge my elbows when I started bowing incorrectly and that pissed me off so much sometimes, I'd purposely play horrendously. There was that time when I just could not play the E minor scale correctly for my life, so he bet that for ever mistake I made in the next lesson, I owed him a quarter, and if I played it correctly, he would give me a quarter. I played that scale so slowly the next week, and he was so reluctant to give me that 25 cents but he did so in the end, along with a sticker.
So this is a tribute to Davis Law, the one person who may have made one of the biggest impacts on my life- hobbies, tastes, morals, humor, and confidence.
---
on another note, I got a new phone. And I am in love with it. Somehow, my blog counterpart seemed to think this new phone was a sign of a completely new Rachel and that is completely untrue. I didn't get a new number so I can break off from my life here, nor did I change my area code as some gesture of finality. In fact, I'm having a slightly difficult time registering this change that is about to come crashing down on me... it's a raging understatement to say I'm a little scared for college and my future. I have never really adapted to change well and I especially have never been good at goodbyes. So with the mentality that the goodbyes I say are actually only just "see you later"s, I suck up that cowardliness get on with... packing... ha, ha.
My procrastination regarding my packing is part laziness and part refusal. Though I have to defend that I am further than most of the people I have been talking to but that I guess is no excuse.
---
Before this gets too tedious... let's see, almost half of tfc has gone for college... I wish you guys the best of luck and please party fucking hard.
Peace
by the way. That Green Day concert I've been talking about... oh I haven't blogged about it yet? yeah that's because I plan to post all the amazing photos and videos along with it. Basically, it was the best grad present I could ever ask for.
Davis, I guess, was one of those people in my life who grew on me. We never started off as best friends... I remember the few times I've sat in the car ride back with tears after a disappointing lesson- not even few times, it must have been dozens. But as I grew, he grew with me. By the end of our lessons, we had grown into the best of friends- he knew of all the burdens that even my friends did not know of, he offered the truest, soundest, and wisest of advices, he made me truly laugh, and basically made me believe that I could accomplish what I have now. He is living proof that the best friendships develop over time. And though it took us almost 5 years to get to that point, his presence in more than a third of my life has deeply and thoroughly affected me. He not only made me a better violinist (kind of), but he also made me a better person. I still think back to all the times I would go into his lesson feeling like absolute rubbish all through junior year, but come out feeling refresh and rejuvenated. I remember the time I was extremely wound up because I was caught in a tight situation regarding my mother, and he talked me through the mess, ignored the frustration in the massacre I made of the Mendelssohn because he understood what I was going through. And then he would believe in me when I felt virtually no one did. He didn't judge me, berate me, hate me, or lecture me when I told him about the incident junior year that I don't talk about much because it still kind of kills me a little inside. Sometimes I'd wait on telling my parents any good news so I could tel Davis first. I remember that baffled and slightly disgusted look on his face as I sat before my lesson next to his trash can clipping my nails. And the way our conversations always started: "Did you practice?" "Nope" "Why not?" Or when he'd pick at my inferiority complex to my sister, laugh and joke about it, then remind me of how capable I am. Or the time he slapped a bug on his hand with such force, my mom jumped in her seat. Or his bad ankle and how he went through a month with it propped up on a chair next to him. Or the multitudes of college sweatshirts he wore, the UCDavis one being his favorite. And how he would offer me kimbabs that his wife would pack him every week, proudly stating the ingredients to each kind (those were goddamn delicious too.) Then he'd nudge my elbows when I started bowing incorrectly and that pissed me off so much sometimes, I'd purposely play horrendously. There was that time when I just could not play the E minor scale correctly for my life, so he bet that for ever mistake I made in the next lesson, I owed him a quarter, and if I played it correctly, he would give me a quarter. I played that scale so slowly the next week, and he was so reluctant to give me that 25 cents but he did so in the end, along with a sticker.
So this is a tribute to Davis Law, the one person who may have made one of the biggest impacts on my life- hobbies, tastes, morals, humor, and confidence.
---
on another note, I got a new phone. And I am in love with it. Somehow, my blog counterpart seemed to think this new phone was a sign of a completely new Rachel and that is completely untrue. I didn't get a new number so I can break off from my life here, nor did I change my area code as some gesture of finality. In fact, I'm having a slightly difficult time registering this change that is about to come crashing down on me... it's a raging understatement to say I'm a little scared for college and my future. I have never really adapted to change well and I especially have never been good at goodbyes. So with the mentality that the goodbyes I say are actually only just "see you later"s, I suck up that cowardliness get on with... packing... ha, ha.
My procrastination regarding my packing is part laziness and part refusal. Though I have to defend that I am further than most of the people I have been talking to but that I guess is no excuse.
---
Before this gets too tedious... let's see, almost half of tfc has gone for college... I wish you guys the best of luck and please party fucking hard.
Peace
by the way. That Green Day concert I've been talking about... oh I haven't blogged about it yet? yeah that's because I plan to post all the amazing photos and videos along with it. Basically, it was the best grad present I could ever ask for.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Outliers
Last night, I shared a few beers with my father and discussed the inevitable situation of our infinitely separated family. I don’t normally like talking about this, but it’s not because it’s made me emotionally unstable or lacking; I simply don’t feel the need to. It’s not an aspect of my life that necessarily defines me. It’s certainly changed me and affected my “path to adulthood.” But I’m still me, you know? Or you don’t know. Actually, even I don’t know. The point is, I have never really been in a completely complete family, but I’ve gotten so used to it that in those rare instances the four members of my family coexist under the same roof, I feel uncomfortable. It’s unnatural for me. It’s always been my mom, sister, and me. Or my mom and me. Or me. But that was life as I knew it and it never crossed my mind as significant until yesterday, while reading Malcolm Gladwell’s novel, Outliers: The Story of Success.
In the section detailing the “Trouble with Geniuses,” Gladwell suggests that high IQs, or intelligence as we know it, don’t necessarily lead to success. Such is the case for Christopher Langan, with an IQ of 195 (Einstein’s was 150), who now resides in a farm in Missouri with his wife. The reason is the intelligence necessary for acclaimed, successful geniuses: practical intelligence, the art of getting what one wants in the world. Gladwell then explains the reason as explicated in various case studies: the genius child’s upbringing, usually closely correlated with his or her socioeconomic situation. A child raised in a middle-class home grows up learning how to speak to authority figures and question adults. They understand that authority figures exist to guide and help them, and thus utilize that guidance for their own good. For example, one of the case studies goes to the doctors with his mother, and his mother tells him to ask the doctor any questions if he has any. The boy then asks the doctor after his examination about some bumps under his arms, inquiring what they are and asking the doctor to take a look. On the other hand, children raised in a poor home learn to fend for themselves and never ask for anything from their superiors. The most prominent example is Christopher Langan, raised in a family of 5 children and an abusive father. In return, Christopher grows up resenting the authority figure, consequently failing to gain any practical intelligence.
I just wrote up a fucking book report (I couldn’t help myself, that section was too bloody interesting) because I have to sort out what went through my head as I read this. Although I can’t really say I am from a low-income family, I was raised with the mentality of taking what I can get and taking care of myself. All through my adolescence, I was often on my own, and though I never begrudge that, I learned that it not only made me prone to homealoneness, but also resistant to receiving assistance. How do I know this? I’m deathly afraid of Korean department stores because of the clothing store workers who loom over my shoulder, saying in their saccharine voices, “Do you need some help?” When the man at the restaurant gives me the wrong order, I say nothing and eat what I’m given—this one especially, since I noticed that my parents enabled this behaviour by not doing anything as well. And I’m the kid who goes to the doctor with all these problems, but bounces out as soon as the examination if over. I dislike asking my teachers for anything—I usually dislike asking anyone for anything. I can’t say if it’s necessarily a bad thing or not since I’m not really an extreme case (I don’t even know if I’m a case at all) in this study, but I must be extremely interested in child development psychology or something. Now, I analyze all my cousins’ actions and speculate just how they were raised… it’s kind of fascinating yeah? Bottom line is, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND THIS BOOK.
Moving on, I started off by telling the story of father daughter bonding time because I intended to write this entry detailing my sentiments on coming back to Korea for so long. Since I’ve exhausted a lot of my energy gushing about the new revelations I had, I’ll just say what Korea has done for me in a nutshell.
-I love this city life. It’s invigorating. There are so many things to do. I’m rarely that bored. (Sometimes, I am)
-I love the place I’m staying… the bit more country-like city of Deokso placed so nicely next to the river.
-Korea, though, still is not the country for me. It has a very distinct shallowness you can only experience after actually staying here for a while.
-I love the service in Korea, but not the every day people on the streets. They’re not as friendly and opening as the people back at home.
-I highly dislike the girls in Korea. Enough said.
-I mildly dislike the men in Korea. More specifically, the “men.”
-I really really enjoy my students! Or at least, one of them. I don’t know if I’m allowed to have favorites but I do. XD
-I also really like my cousins! It does help that I haven’t seen my little vixen from hell yet.
-Casually sipping beers with dad at a restaurant while my mom laughs at my asian glow... priceless.
-I also really like the culture. I actually love traditional Korean music. Not so much the recent Wonder Girls, SNSD shit that play NONSTOP here.
-I miss home… a nice picture message from my sister with snowflake made me actually incredibly nostalgic.
Moving on, I got new shoes today, and usually, I don’t share news like this but I have to say, these make me feel very happy. They’re not like any shoes I’ve owned before but they were just calling to me.
Otherwise..... Korea's fine, I'm fine, so I guess I'll leave this blog on a happy note for once. Hardy har har.
lmaonade.
In the section detailing the “Trouble with Geniuses,” Gladwell suggests that high IQs, or intelligence as we know it, don’t necessarily lead to success. Such is the case for Christopher Langan, with an IQ of 195 (Einstein’s was 150), who now resides in a farm in Missouri with his wife. The reason is the intelligence necessary for acclaimed, successful geniuses: practical intelligence, the art of getting what one wants in the world. Gladwell then explains the reason as explicated in various case studies: the genius child’s upbringing, usually closely correlated with his or her socioeconomic situation. A child raised in a middle-class home grows up learning how to speak to authority figures and question adults. They understand that authority figures exist to guide and help them, and thus utilize that guidance for their own good. For example, one of the case studies goes to the doctors with his mother, and his mother tells him to ask the doctor any questions if he has any. The boy then asks the doctor after his examination about some bumps under his arms, inquiring what they are and asking the doctor to take a look. On the other hand, children raised in a poor home learn to fend for themselves and never ask for anything from their superiors. The most prominent example is Christopher Langan, raised in a family of 5 children and an abusive father. In return, Christopher grows up resenting the authority figure, consequently failing to gain any practical intelligence.
I just wrote up a fucking book report (I couldn’t help myself, that section was too bloody interesting) because I have to sort out what went through my head as I read this. Although I can’t really say I am from a low-income family, I was raised with the mentality of taking what I can get and taking care of myself. All through my adolescence, I was often on my own, and though I never begrudge that, I learned that it not only made me prone to homealoneness, but also resistant to receiving assistance. How do I know this? I’m deathly afraid of Korean department stores because of the clothing store workers who loom over my shoulder, saying in their saccharine voices, “Do you need some help?” When the man at the restaurant gives me the wrong order, I say nothing and eat what I’m given—this one especially, since I noticed that my parents enabled this behaviour by not doing anything as well. And I’m the kid who goes to the doctor with all these problems, but bounces out as soon as the examination if over. I dislike asking my teachers for anything—I usually dislike asking anyone for anything. I can’t say if it’s necessarily a bad thing or not since I’m not really an extreme case (I don’t even know if I’m a case at all) in this study, but I must be extremely interested in child development psychology or something. Now, I analyze all my cousins’ actions and speculate just how they were raised… it’s kind of fascinating yeah? Bottom line is, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND THIS BOOK.
Moving on, I started off by telling the story of father daughter bonding time because I intended to write this entry detailing my sentiments on coming back to Korea for so long. Since I’ve exhausted a lot of my energy gushing about the new revelations I had, I’ll just say what Korea has done for me in a nutshell.
-I love this city life. It’s invigorating. There are so many things to do. I’m rarely that bored. (Sometimes, I am)
-I love the place I’m staying… the bit more country-like city of Deokso placed so nicely next to the river.
-Korea, though, still is not the country for me. It has a very distinct shallowness you can only experience after actually staying here for a while.
-I love the service in Korea, but not the every day people on the streets. They’re not as friendly and opening as the people back at home.
-I highly dislike the girls in Korea. Enough said.
-I mildly dislike the men in Korea. More specifically, the “men.”
-I really really enjoy my students! Or at least, one of them. I don’t know if I’m allowed to have favorites but I do. XD
-I also really like my cousins! It does help that I haven’t seen my little vixen from hell yet.
-Casually sipping beers with dad at a restaurant while my mom laughs at my asian glow... priceless.
-I also really like the culture. I actually love traditional Korean music. Not so much the recent Wonder Girls, SNSD shit that play NONSTOP here.
-I miss home… a nice picture message from my sister with snowflake made me actually incredibly nostalgic.
Moving on, I got new shoes today, and usually, I don’t share news like this but I have to say, these make me feel very happy. They’re not like any shoes I’ve owned before but they were just calling to me.
Otherwise..... Korea's fine, I'm fine, so I guess I'll leave this blog on a happy note for once. Hardy har har.
lmaonade.
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