End of a Three-Month Era

This is the song I want to play when I hear/read people pull the god-awful "Stay in your lane" card.

Lane Boy, by twenty one pilots

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On July 24th, I took my final exam for my internship. It was relatively easy, seeing as it was open note. My boss wanted us to be able to look up information we need rather than relying on memory - a thought I hugely appreciated for some questions.

The community at this place was amazing. I wish I had been a volunteer with the wildlife instead of with the dogs those three years ago. The area was much smaller, and I actually was able to recognize and talk to the other people who worked there. There was a lot more to do when I got bored, even though I was there nine hours each shift.

I can't really have a single topic for this post; rather, I'm just going to recount some thoughts and fond memories I had during this experience.

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Towards the end, I was on lunch break with a 3rd term intern (I was 2nd term). Early on she had come to me seeking a sort of mentor, because I was called in on an off day to help with staff shortage, and she was in Recovery by herself with no other staff on her first day. Anyways, during the lunch we somehow got to talking about the staff and other people at the workplace and our relations with them. We talked about the friendliness/not-so-friendliness of the various staff members there, and in order to make her feel better I recounted my experiences and first impressions of them to kind of give her some "inside intel."

She then likened me with a different intern - an intern who, in 1st term, acted as my own mentor. I hugely admire her for being so amiable and very clearly liked by everyone. She is hardworking, reason-driven, and pretty knowledgable about wildlife medicine in a program where most people are newcomers to the field. From the beginning I aspired to be like her; I have a (perhaps unhealthy) need to please people - I crave praise and recognition.* I wanted to be as well-liked as her.

So when my friend told me I was like this 1st term intern - as well as I can remember it, she said, "You're like MS, it seems like everyone likes you" - it felt as though my consciousness burst out of my body and went spiraling up into the sky. It was the best thing anyone had said to me all summer.

It was similar to another experience I had, though I'll explain the differences later. About a week before my term ended, my boss pulled me into his office and had me shut the door and everything. He told me he just wanted to say that I had done a superb job that summer, and everyone (staff) not only liked working with me, but looked forward to my shifts because "they knew that everything would go smoothly and quietly when I was around." He told me I was definitely one of the favorite interns. I wonder if he knows, due to my record-low confidence, how much saying that really meant to me.

It's different than the comment from the intern though, because I feel as though praise directly from your peers means a lot more than something said to you through a grapevine. I'm incredibly gratified by both comments - they both say practically the same thing - it's just that one of them felt a lot more intimate.

*Ironic, because I have no idea how to receive praise and recognition. I'm the vending machine trying to accept a wrinkly dollar.

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Raccoons are demon terrors spawned from the Seventh Circle of Dante's Hell. Baby raccoons, on the other hand, are the cutest goddamn things anyone will ever see with their mortal eyes. Especially when they nurse.

And owls are among the most crazy defensive birds we get - they like to go for the eyes. Hawks, oddly enough, are pretty chill - depending on the species and size (smaller = crazier).

---

Seeing the reasons why animals come in has made me pretty angry at the world population. We see lots of birds come in who were caught by cats, whose owners no doubt think it's perfectly natural and okay for a domesticated species to hunt live food, and therefore let their cat outdoors. I don't want to count the number of birds we had to pull due to subcutaneous emphysema - subcutaneous meaning "under skin" and emphysema meaning "trapped air." Basically, a bird's respiratory system consists of six air sacs which act as bellows, moving oxygen around. If one of them is ruptured, the air is released under the skin and creates a giant bubble I saw most often on the leg.

We also get in a lot of "bird-napped" nestlings, where unsuspecting people picked a bird off the sidewalk thinking it was abandoned (it probably isn't, most birds people bring in are fledgelings that just can't fly well yet. Besides, it is a complete myth that parents won't return to a baby bird with human scent on it). I am much more inclined to be sympathetic to these people, as I'm sure they thought they were doing the right thing. It just creates more work for us, treating an already healthy bird to release.

But most recently, the most common species we've been getting in seasonally uncommon numbers is the common murre:

*Like all seabirds, their beaks are sharp and they're not afraid to use them. I still have a scar on my thumb due to another intern's lack of attention to restraining the head while I held the body (he had a good distraction, it was an interesting injury).*

This time, it's not really any individual's fault, but rather a perverse group effort. Before your imagination takes you somewhere else, I'm talking about climate change.

People can say whatever they want, but it's inarguable that the global average temperature is slowly increasing - by .8 Celsius since 1880, or 1.4 Fahrenheit, with two-thirds of this warming occurring since 1975. (earth observatory.nasa.gov) Warmer waters means species shift locations to find ranges that still support their abiotic tolerances. In this case, fish are swimming to deeper, cooler depths than the young, inexperienced murres can dive to. Because of this, nearly all of the murres we're getting have emaciation as their main ailment. Just before I left, we got in four fledgling murres, one with a fractured wing, and all of them needed to be gavaged, or tube fed formula, because they were too weak to feed themselves. Right now, at a sister facility, they have over 200 murres - a number way above average. I shudder to think how many more don't make it to the facilities in the first place. It's pretty awful. More can be read here.

---

That pretty much wraps up my last few weeks as an intern, and then the following few weeks as a regular volunteer before I left for college. I don't know if I want to pursue wildlife rehabilitation as a job, though it does pop up under the potential jobs on my major's page. My boss even said that if I weren't still going though college, I'd have a "golden ticket" to a job at their newest facility elsewhere in the Bay Area - me and my fellow 2nd term intern.

The work is certainly incredibly rewarding, and some staff members there revealed they didn't even pursue tertiary education very passionately and yet they still ended up in a medical field. I would love to work with animals, always have, but job comfort and income are also important factors to me, and wildlife rehab isn't a very lucrative job. But that's an existential crisis for another day.

On Greek Life

I really like trap, but realized I haven't put any on here, so here's one of my favorite songs that's on the shorter side.

FinD Me, by marshmello
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I've been so busy I completely forgot to record my brief experience with joining Greek life on campus two months ago.

Before applying to any colleges, I had fully intended to go out and join a sorority. Like, I'd ask colleges while touring about their Greek life activity on campus. But then I came to my university, where people in that scene are more like the kinds in the movies  - lots of pretty floral dresses and killer heels and curly blonde hair - and less like the kinds you'd expect. So I forwent an application and, except for one party at the beginning of the year (dragged along by a girl on my floor, and I ended up leaving maybe 30 minutes in), I expected it to be the last of sororities that I'd see.

A different topic - in Biology and Chemistry last semester, I became friends with a girl who coincidentally also happened to be in both of my lectures. She had some other friends in Chemistry, and we all sat together. This semester, one of those friend-of-a-friend girls (whose name is strikingly similar to mine, I thought she was typing my name when she was typing in her contact info) had tried to rush for a sorority, Sigma Psi Zeta, last semester, but there was some mishap with her mailed grades and she couldn't go through. She was trying again this semester, and invited me to go along with her.

We met up maybe an hour before it was time, during which she told me it was an Asian interest sorority - separate from the Panhellenic campus groups - and I understood why she invited me. The girls were really nice, and I met another girl with blue hair there too. But, to be honest, it was too overwhelming for me. I pride myself on being really nice to strangers, but it was hard when I had about 20 different names thrown at me at once and I couldn't even remember who was who.

The next night was themed Canvas and Mock-tail night. We were given canvases to paint on, and told that they would later be donated to either a struggling school or an orphanage (I can't remember which. Somewhere kids were struggling and needed motivation). So, me being me, I started running through all the meaningful Harry Potter quotes in my head. I settled on, "Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light."

But I only had a tiny little 4x4 inch canvas, so the quote turned out more like:

I hope whichever kids got it, liked it.

I wasn't really intending to join, I just went along for something to do both nights. This was during a time when I was trying to plan my summer, and as I was really busy I declined to add one more thing to my plate and pen a bunch of sorority events into my already busy calendar. I was busy internship/job hunting, I was getting tickets for my return flight for spring break (which I am on now), I was looking up colleges for studying abroad, I was finishing essays and projects and oral presentations, I was apartment hunting.

On top of all that, I was also planning a month-long trip around Europe with an old high school friend for summer, and I was corresponding with her everyday on whether it was feasible or not, so I was just generally not in a mood to waste my little free time in uncomfortable situations. I ended up skipping the last rush day, and I don't really regret it. I don't think it was big enough yet to create connections that Greek life is famous for, unlike Alpha Phi (the huge sorority my grandmother was a part of, and wanted me to join. She even offered to write a letter of rec. for me.*)

I'm still really good friends with the girl who invited me, and I met a new girl too who's also in the same sorority and the same biology class. I'd like to believe I made the right choice, but since I still have very few friends, I sometimes wonder if I should legitimately try next semester. It's a good gate to many new friends at once, plus their sibling fraternity (I forgot the actual term, I don't think it's sibling) - double the friends all at once.

But I've been thinking, and I'd rather meet people through classes. Chances are interests will be more similar that way, and it's usually only one person at a time. I don't have enough confidence to talk to multiple people at once anyways.

That concludes my brief experience with Greek life.

*I just realized, it was the Romans who placed emphasis on connections and family history and letters of recommendation. Interesting that "Greek" life has adopted that practice. Yes, I know all that from the Percy Jackson books. Sue me for such "credible" sources.

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I FINALLY DID SOMETHING RIGHT.

FOR THE FIRST TIME, I DID SOMETHING AND IT WAS RELEVANT FOR LATER I'M SO PROUD OF MYSELF GOOD JOB ME.

In high school, I had this brief thing of researching a new organism every week and writing down a brief summation of what I had learned. Some of the organisms were the sensitive plant, the maned wolf, and the living rock. One week, I went through my list of favorite plants and decided to research welwitschia, or Welwitschia mirabilis. Link takes you to my post with detailed research.

To recapitulate, it's a succulent plant, consisting solely of two leaves, that is considered a living fossil (like the horseshoe crab) because it's barely evolved since it first appeared in the fossil history.

In one of my more recent biology lectures, we just started studying plants - mosses, ferns, vasculars, and up. In the introduction slide, I recognized a picture of welwitschia showing up (along with a horsetail, which I also recognized at it's pretty common near freshwater sources in California)(I just realized I should clarify, horsetail is a type of reedy plant - not an actual horse's tail).

This excited me because this was the exact reason I started studying random organisms - to further my knowledge and know things before they are formally taught. I wasted no time in telling my friend (the sorority one) what that plant was, and since this isn't the first time I've told her random trivia about biology, she said, "I wish I had your brain."

If only she knew, she wouldn't say that.

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Shameless self-promotion about to happen.

This was also done as another birthday gift. Much longer than usual, but I couldn't bring myself to cut out any of the lyrics. 

Songs used: 

Things We Lost In the Fire, by Bastille

Low, by Coldplay

I'm thinking, as long as I keep this hobby up, there's gonna be one of my videos at the end of every post now.  I'm probably going to start posting non-photoshop mashups at the beginning now too. Too much confidence.

Natural or Enhanced Beauty?

I'd been scanning through the Buzzfeed YouTube videos* as of late when I came across an interesting pair of experiments: Girls who wear makeup going without it for a week, and girls who never wear makeup wearing it for a week. The two videos are called "What It's Like To Stop Wearing Makeup" and "What It's Like To Start Wearing Makeup."

*There are a lot of SJWs in the comments of Buzzfeed. A LOT, most of them unjustified and just looking for an argument. There are also a lot of meninist-like comments too. Generally a lot of sexist people looking to be offended. I try to avoid the comment section when watching Buzzfeed videos.

Basically, the girl who did wear makeup a lot felt very vulnerable and self-conscious without it. She felt like people were judging her more, she didn't believe people who told her she looked good without makeup, and she lost a lot of confidence. The worst part was when someone told her, "You look tired."

Pro tip, don't tell someone they look tired. I wouldn't even tell my closest friends that, and I'm notorious for being sarcastically mean (Though I always try to pair it with a large smile, and I try to deliver the line in a way that it's clear I mean the opposite. I only use these comments on people I know will know it's just my brand of awful funny - I'd never say it to an acquaintance, and I'd never make fun of bodily features). I can't even think of any exceptions to that rule, and I'm the one who believes that there are always exceptions. It's kind of like never asking a girl if she's on her period.

(Never.)

On the other hand, the girl just beginning to wear makeup also lost a little confidence. She also felt like people were staring more, and was a bit uncomfortable with the attention (she also noted that while girls were perceptive of her change and complemented on her new lipstick or eyeliner or whatever, guys noticed something was off but couldn't quite place it). She tried to justify wearing makeup by saying it was for an experiment, instead of just thanking them for the compliment.

However, in the end both girls got used to it in less than a week. The first one decided she felt more comfortable without makeup than she did before, and the second one admitted that, as a girl who didn't wear makeup, it was hard to say that makeup made her feel more confident.

I know people who dislike makeup, and I know people who wear it every day. It's never been a concern of mine what they do - like I would never try to tell them they would look better if they "enhanced their beauty" or went with the "natural look." Whatever they like to do, I go with it (Though I did like to do other girls makeup for them for formal events if they'd let me, because it was fun painting on another person's face for a change).

Personally, I wear makeup to hide my imperfections. I'm not a confident girl; foundation/powder hides my flaws and eyeliner helps my eyes not be so mole-small. But those are the only things I do, and I can put it all on in 10 minutes or less (though I usually don't because I drag my feet in the mornings). Yes, the money I use on makeup can be spent on other things - books, concert tickets, iTunes, food - but that's my own choice. Besides, there are plenty of cheap brands at drug stores; I'm not into the top-notch stuff you see on TV commercials. I could buy two eyeliner pencils for the price of one Five Guys burger - and guess which will last longer?

(I started wearing makeup in the beginning middle school, but only eyeliner for my bottom lids. That pencil? I still have it after eight years, with a good inch and a half left of it. That's how sparingly I've used it.)

If I had better skin though, I wouldn't wear makeup at all. I'd much rather sleep in than slather warpaint on my face. Until that day comes though, I'll use it. Besides, I've gotten really good at winged eyeliner - a skill that took me four years to really master.

However, the people who say "Makeup is bad" purely because it supports the patriarchy's control over women (making them buy things they don't need) and things along that line are the people I have a problem with. There's feminism - supporting women in whatever they want to do, even if they want to be a housewife or a stripper. Then there are the feminazis - those who are 100% against all males (though they claim they want to end sexism); those who get angry at any woman who changes her natural appearance in any sort of way; those who'd get mad at you for shaving your legs. I feel like it would be those kinds of people who'd get mad at me for wearing makeup, and for being so weak and insecure as to not face the world with a bare face.

If makeup makes me happier, if it makes me more confident (a serious problem of mine), why should I stop? Why should I be unhappy to fulfill their skewed utopian world?

I will admit, there are some people who say they wear makeup solely for themselves - they do not wear makeup for other's benefit, and I do not really believe that. I do not wear makeup for myself, I wear it to impress others. After all, I do not put on a full face and then stay in all day trolling the internet, do I? That'd just be a waste of product and putting it all on isn't that fun. At least for me. As I stated earlier, there are always (usually, haha) exceptions.

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Oops, my hand slipped:

I did this about a week ago, a few days after the Owl City one, at the request of a Coldplay song from my dad. I've also started making mashups of my own, but no way I'm ready to post them. Refer confidence problem above.

Link to Wide Awake On Paradise Boulevard (the original name, I took a few liberties): http://youtu.be/Hho9gQccPCI

Ruby Slippers

So the big day was today. I moved into my college dorm.

The home/state-sickness is a deadweight in my chest. I can feel it, right behind the top of my sternum.

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I Left My Heart in San Francisco, by Toby Bennett

--

Did I expect it? Yes. That's probably why I'm feeling it. I feel what I expect to feel, and it's ruining my first day of freedom from parents. I'm all by myself in my single dorm. I'm surprised, and so incredibly lucky, that I happened to come out at the same time as some other girls for dinner, so I didn't have to sit like a loser by myself at an empty table. I wasn't so lucky for the kick-off - as much as I like my RA, he's not very good at coordinating my floor into leaving at the same time. Everyone left before me, and I had to go to the field alone and sit in the middle of a crowd of strangers. Then it started raining halfway through - unpredictable weather already? - and I left with the crowd around me to avoid sitting in the bleachers, getting rained on, and surrounded by no one. I'm probably going to skip breakfast tomorrow too, because I have no one to go with. (*EDIT: I did skip.)

My new college seems to be exactly like my old high school, except I can't find anyone I consider to be "my people." All the guys look like popular jocks - I'm not even exaggerating when I say ALL - and all the girls look like the prep clique, just intensified. Approachable people (that is to say, people who aren't wearing expensive brands and lots of makeup; that's my definition) are nowhere to be found. I'm not even sure I can be classified as a minority in this student population, personality-wise. "I'm" virtually nonexistent. There are so few of "me" that I don't think there are more than 5% of "me" in the freshman class.

** I understand I'm supposed to go out and find them, and "of course there's more than 5%," but I sure can't find the introverts if we're all too shy to brave the ocean of confident cocky jocks and cheerleaders out there.

The awful thing is is that I've been feeling this way about my college for a long time. I felt like I had to settle for it, and I never really fell in love with it. My dad has been telling all his work friends about my choice of education, and they all say something along the lines of, "Oh, that college is a really good choice," or, "The campus there is beautiful, you're going to have so much fun." They all ask me what I'm looking forward to the most, and I have to BS some answer because I wasn't looking forward to anything other than freedom, and I can't say that in front of my parents. The atmosphere is exactly the opposite of the intellectual setting I wanted, but I can't do anything but suffer through it until I can get back to California.

All I want for Christmas...

I'm going to cut this post off early before it gets any more depressing. I should stop thinking about what I could've done, and focus more on how I can better my future. And I'd love to do that, I really would, but it's a bit late to change who I fundamentally am, and who I fundamentally am is not any good at approaching intimidating, out-of-one's-league people.

In other words, I'm screwed. Here's to a fantastic first year.

Big Girls Don't Cry, by Fergie

"I Wish That I Could Be Like The"

At the beginning of this summer, I discovered what a color run is. I pretty much hate extended running, but getting sprayed with dye so you come out as a vivid mess at the end? Sounds awesome. Trouble is, I don't have a lot of friends who like to exercise (like me) or who would be willing to pay the registration fee, but I did know one. I hit her up, and she said it looked awesome, so we decided to do it and I got my ticket. The run is this weekend.

Yesterday she let me know, after I contacted her first about battle plans, that she couldn't make it after all. I sympathized, even though I was kinda mad she didn't let me know herself, because I assumed she had a good reason (which she did). Then I mentioned what a waste it was of her money, and she told me she never even got a ticket in the first place.

Like, are you serious? When were you planning on telling me?

So I was talking to another friend, and realized she might be interested in it. I let her know, and she sounded really excited, but told me that she would have to get back to me the next day. Thing is, this friend is kind of known to me for bailing last minute, and for not keeping promises about responding soon, so I wasn't surprised when (after I contacted her first - again) she told me six hours later she forgot about another event scheduled for the same time and couldn't make it.

So yes, I'm pretty pissed at the both of them, but it's not really in my nature to stay mad or hold grudges, and I don't want them to feel bad about making me mad (refer to previous post - it takes a lot to make angry), so I'm just letting it go after I rant about it here.

But my key point here isn't really to list how other people tick me off. I was thinking about it, and I realized that freshman me wouldn't have even thought about inviting other people to functions, for fear of rejection. Isolation is one of my biggest fears, and the thought of them having to outright say they didn't want to hang out terrified fourteen year old me. And now, here I am, more pissed than broken by the fact that weekend is open again.

Amazing. Here I was thinking that my personality didn't change too much during my time at high school. After all, I'm still shy in large groups - but only of strangers. I adore hang outs with twenty plus something people, as long as they are all my friends/close acquaintances. I don't make new friends easily - except when it's one-on-one talking. I met a cool guy from a different school near the end of my senior year - an absolute, intimidating stranger - and now I talk to him more than I talk to most friends who went to my actual school. 

Have I actually changed that much? What, or who, prompted this change? I'm trying to remember when exactly I started acting like this, and can't pinpoint it to any certain time. I'm grateful though - I'd much rather forgive and forget than obsess over how no one likes me and be depressed for days. Is this just me maturing - becoming a little more callous and insensitive to how others view me? I've seen so many memes on the internet about then and nows: the then teenager worrying about what everyone thinks, the now adult kicking back with a martini and not giving a damn about what others think. I'd always laugh inside, and tell myself I'll always be self-conscious, but now...

Case in point.

I guess what throws me the most is that there must be a scientific, chemical reason behind it, and it's not so much that I changed myself for the better, but that my brain stopped releasing some hormone or decreased/increased output levels or whatever. I mean, if it happens to pretty much everyone (and it seems that it does), then I didn't make myself grow up. I literally just acquired enough years and my mind entered a new stage. That's it. So much for self-discovery.

Anyways, since I've gotten into a whole new genre of music, I'm going to post a new list of my top ten songs like I did a while back.

Not in order of importance.

Favorite Songs: 
1. King for a Day
2. Secret Valentine
3. Ten Thousand Feet
4. You're Gonna Go Far, Kid
5. Don't Look Now, I'm Being Followed
6. Radio Arcade
7. Injection
8. If You Can't Hang
9. This Is War
10. I Found Away (feat. Douglas P)

**This is not to say that I don't like alternative anymore, to make that clear. I just didn't post any alternative songs because I haven't been exploring that genre too much as of late, other than to listen to Owl City's new EP or shuffle through old songs.

This one song though, this one song I identify with so much that it's going to forever be one of my favorites, no matter how the list fluctuates in the coming years. I'll hopefully be ninety someday, and showing it to my grandchildren (if I ever have any, it's kind of doubtful ATM), and telling them that, for the majority of my high school career, this was exactly what I felt. Word for word. That's why it's not above.

Cool Kids, by Echosmith

Music is my therapy.

Out of My Comfort Zone

I returned from my two week trip in China yesterday, and I seriously can't remember the last time I felt such joy as I did when looking out at the familiar golden hills of the Bay Area after 15 hours of travel.

I have never liked visiting China. Apart from the comfort drawbacks (long flights, muggy air, ten mosquito bites the first night), there's also the fact that everyone (in the rural places I visited) is Asian. Literally everyone. After four years of avoiding a trip back, of living in the middle of whitewashed relatives and neighborhoods, that was the first time I've been completely surrounded by Asians. And I hated it.

A little background: I'm not a "full-blooded"Asian. I've gotten questions from people when we've recently met asking about my ethnicity, because I look relatively Asian but I have a Scottish surname. I grew up, despite my mother's best efforts, identifying as white because all my friends were fair-skinned and I saw the white side of my family a lot more frequently than I did my maternal Asian side. I know now that I look predominantly Asian, but I'm legally registered as white (by legally I mean on school papers) and old self-impressions die hard.

Fast-forward a few years: In middle school, I start getting called Asian, and it's one of the biggest surprises of my life. I learn that, to all these easily sunburnt folk in my city (I use that term endearingly), I don't look white. I've gotten used to that by now, and easily call myself Asian around people, but still can't help but play up my white side whenever I get the chance, just to (probably unnecessarily) remind people that being Asian isn't all that I am. My ancestor helped found Pennsylvania, for God's sake, and I'm related by marriage to Buffalo Bill. How much more 'Murican can I get (see what I did there?)?

To the present: I discover that, in China, I look white.

Thank goodness I'm already used to being the minority. Otherwise I probably would've undergone a HUGE identity crisis.

How do I know this? Well, not only did a lot people stare at me for longer than usual wherever I went (which got really uncomfortable in situations where I couldn't keep moving, like public transportations or park gazebos), most shopkeepers and hotel concierges would speak to me at first in English. Which is fine with me, because four years of neglect has all but stripped me of my ability to speak Chinese. I can still perfectly understand everything though. This becomes important later on.

There was this one infuriating situation, where I was standing in line for train tickets while my parents held a place in the other line. We were keeping tabs on each other to see who would reach the front first. There was a middle-aged man standing in front of me who kept turning around periodically to stare around at his surroundings, as many native Chinese are wont to do. Every time he did this, I would just stare at my suitcase to avoid awkward eye contact. To him, it probably looked like I was unaware of anything else.

Dear sir, you forgot about peripherals.

I noticed, with my peripheral vision, that he was in fact staring at me every time he turned around to casually scan. After about twenty minutes of this (lines in China move slowly), I had had enough and looked directly back at him every time he turned. This seemed only to amuse him, as not only did he not stop turning around every few seconds, he would now have this smirk on his face, like, "Aw, cute, it's getting mad." After about ten more minutes of this, and after one particularly uncomfortable long stare down, he turned to the front, tapped on the shoulder of the woman in front of him, and whispered to her that "the silly foreign girl behind me is angry" (that is an approximate translation). He then turned around to grin broadly at me, while the woman just openly stared.

A word to the wise, and to the ridiculously stupid and ignorant: never make a chill person angry enough to take action. It was my great pleasure letting that foolish man know I speak Chinese. I wish I could've taken a photo of his face when he realized that I had understood everything he'd been saying.

There were more subtle occurrences throughout the trip that let me know people knew I wasn't 100% one of them. And while I'm used to being part of the minority, I'm not singled out back in the U.S. because of it. In China, looking different meant unacceptance. Everywhere I went (especially in the countryside) people made it openly clear that they were shocked to see me among them. More shocked than, say, they were when they also saw my mom, a born-and-bred Chinese. I didn't necessarily feel shunned, but I definitely felt a lot more eyes than usual. Even as an Asian in a white neighborhood, I have never remembered feeling so much attention before in my life because of people's perception of my ethnicity.

Hence my overwhelming happiness at finally being home again. Never before have I identified so strongly with my my home city/state. And this couldn't have come at a worser time.

I'm already having difficulty understanding that I'm moving out of my beloved home state to go to college. Now, too late, do I realize that I never wanted to leave California, not only because it's the chillest state (shut up, I know I'm biased, and I'm loving it), but because I'll miss the unique dynamics one simply doesn't find inland. I've already noticed that the few friends I made at orientation don't quite behave or speak the same way my friends do. It goes further beyond the slang (I've already said "hella" and "ratchet" to these people when talking though, and I noticed a slight hesitation in their responses. This threw me more than it should've). It's impossible to explain, but already even the easy comfort of conversation with cool people is taken from me. Inland people are just unsettlingly different.

Speaking of which, what will I do without the ocean?

It's sad that I'm already considering transferring back to a university in California, without having even gone to my new school. But it's true. I haven't left yet and I want back in. Even if I do make it all four years with disparate seasons (what is weather), one of the criteria for grad school is that it MUST be in California. I don't want to find a job and settle down after uni in any other state.

Only when presented with the loss of something I've taken for granted do I realize how deeply I've always treasured it. Isn't that always the case?

--

Now that college is starting soon, I want to take up this blog again. I'm sure in the future I'll want to know what I was thinking and feeling at this point.

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I've recently, due to a new friend's recommendations, gotten into the post-hardcore genre this summer. Looking back at an old post where I openly bash screamo, it's kind of funny that now nearly a third of my iTunes library is composed of punk and hardcore rock. I guess I really trust his taste.

It's exceedingly difficult to choose just one P-H song to post, but here it is:

A Match Into Water, by Pierce the Veil (Explicit)

And if you, reader, dislike screamo, here's another one of my new all-time-favorites that's not so... dissonant:

Secret Valentine, by We the Kings

Ragefest

I feel like throwing things, breaking down, curling up, crying hard, running fast, and throwing up.

Not necessarily in that order. But particularly the throwing things part. Probably because there are a pile of tempting pillows in my vicinity.

Backstory:

As my IRL friends know, I have/had some bad history with a former best friend's ex. When they broke up, I felt obliged to completely ignore him, as was my duty to shun the guy who dared cause my bestie discomfort. Problem was, we had become pretty good friends during their one-year relationship. So when I started giving him the cold shoulder, it was pretty awkward. I didn't really like what I was doing, but considered it the social protocol, especially since said bestie was ranting about him quite a lot for the first few days.

He didn't get it for the first year and a half after the breakup. Things weren't helped by a different friend, who teased me with "liking" this guy, and that only served to make me distance myself even further. He would say hi, I would make some noncommittal noise. Reset, repeat. In the end, halfway through my junior year, the hellos and hugs decreased in number until we were both completely ignoring each other. He graduated last year without me ever getting up the courage to apologize.

Flash-forward to end of junior year:

This guy, who is super-uber smart, gets accepted to a very prestigious school. Because I'm a baby and don't like confrontations, I decided I wouldn't even consider said school because I don't want to run into him there, or look like I was following him. Besides, I figured I wouldn't have any chance of getting in anyways. Instead, because another university in the same city roundabouts started sending me letters and other paraphernalia, I looked into it, and was very impressed by what I saw. However, it's very difficult to get into, but that didn't stop me from applying. I figured, what the heck? It became my unreachable university, somewhere I could apply just to see if I could get in.

Flash-flash-forward to three days ago:

I got wait listed for my university. I was in complete and utter shock. My application, though I tried way too hard on it for something I thought I would get rejected from, apparently made up in EC activities what it lacked in grades. And I've read that lots of people who are accepted turn down their offer, so there's still a good chance I can get in.

Here comes the "but."

But I've read online that, since the two prestigious schools I've mentioned are so close to each other, people can't help but compare them. And what I've read hasn't exactly boded well. From what I read, my wait listed school (henceforth known as school A) is ever so slightly higher in national and international standing, but the atmosphere is very intellectual. The majority of people study hard and rarely do anything else, and the small small minority join frats and get drunk every weekend.

Contrast this with a university (henceforth known as school B) with a campus that isn't as beautiful, but has much more school spirit and is a little more social-oriented, while still being regarded as a highly academic school. Its student population is more diverse, as in there are lots more people who are really smart but still like to let loose often - more often than school A, anyways.

Now, if I were an introverted girl who cared deeply about my grades and disliked hanging out with other people, then school A would be my absolute dream school. No parties, just loads of time to study for what really matters. But while I do care about my grades, I don't care about them to the extent that people at school A do. I really like to be with other people, and not just one type of person either. I've tried to identify myself with a clique at my high school, but couldn't. I'm not a nerd, because I dislike studying and I don't have straight A's. Not musical, because I can't march around with a piano for band and I'm too shy to sing in front of virtual strangers. Not a jock - never participated in any school sports. Or attended any, for that matter. Not a prep/cheerleader - I don't have enough money to waste on looking good. Not an Azn - I'm not really into the whole kawaii/peace sign/sqee-ing all the time thing I notice they do. Plus, a lot of my friends aren't even Asian. I have many wonderful friends, but I don't belong in any category.

Which university would be better for me, according to this? The one with a uniform student population, or the one with more personality diversity? The one that centers on studies, or the one that allows for more fun too?

I hope you now understand my problem. I've applied and hopefully will get into an acclaimed university, but only NOW do I realize it was the wrong acclaimed university all along. When it's TOO LATE. All because of some guy.

Salt in the wound: These two universities are only 40 minutes away from each other. SO CLOSE, and yet so far away.

Sorry for all the self-pity going on here, but I need to rant and as I never told my parents about this most awkward time of my high school experience, I want to get it out somehow. And that somehow is to make lists.

Lots of them.

Pros of School A:

• Huge achievement if I do get in.
•  Known for graduating classes that go on to be very successful.
• Located on a lovely campus.
• Has four houses (like Hogwarts).

Con of School A:

• Has the wrong social atmosphere.
• Basically has no Greek life.
• Located near a "ghetto" neighborhood.
• Too focused on academics.

Pros of School B:

• Still a pretty good achievement if I am able to transfer (I've heard it's easier to transfer into colleges than get accepted from high school).
• Has a lovely campus.
• Better social atmosphere (more Greek life).
• Known for graduating classes that go on to be very successful.

Cons of School B:

• Difficult to get into.
• Not as academically acclaimed as school A.
• Freezing weather.
• Might see The Guy wandering around.

Call me immature, but that last con is actually a pretty big deal to me.

This post has been two days in two days in the making, and I've calmed down considerably since then. I've done some more research, and while I'm still angry at myself for not considering school B, I've accepted my mistake and am looking into other options, like transferring. Of course, this all depends on me getting into school A in the first place. I don't think I'd want to transfer from a lesser college, because then I'd feel that I don't deserve it.

Yes, I also realize what an ungrateful lout I'm being. Here I am, being considered for a really good university, and all I'm doing is griping about how I want to go somewhere else. Humor me.

I've also done more research on waitlisting, and I've realized that I may not even need to worry about going to school A or B. After reading this article, I realize I may not even get off the list. The chances of getting completely rejected mid-May are so high I don't really want to think about it. I still really want to go to that university, since I've already come so far, but I'll definitely schedule a meeting with my college counselor before deciding on what, exactly, I can do to let school A know I'm still interested. If you, reader, have had any experience with this sort of thing, I would welcome any advice.

I've dug around a bit more and found this thread, which basically is school A telling waitlisted students what they can do to help boost their status a little bit. I'm still worried, but having a plan helps.

College is not turning out the way I'd hoped. C'est la vie.

Reflections

Everything is catching up.

My schoolwork, my artwork, all the clubs, my friendships, my self-consciousness...

Not to mention college...

I tried playing the piano yesterday for the first time in a couple months. To my immense surprise - for I was surprised - I couldn't play any of my old pieces straight off the bat. I'm not used to forgetting piano like this, as I have been playing for nearly 12 years now. I've taken 2 and even 3 week breaks, and gone back playing everything perfectly. What's happening? At least I still remember how to play "Here I Am," from the movie Spirit.

Oh yes. Still a child at heart.

I've been convinced that I am no longer as much as a shy secluded introvert as I used to be at the start of high school. I've surrounded myself with company that I enjoy, and am reasonably confident that they enjoy my company too (which is a big thing for me; I'm not confident in anything other than my knowledge of Harry Potter trivia). But yesterday evening, when I went out with some other friends, I felt like a third wheel for the first time in a long time. I don't know if I'm just being overreactive, as the last time I thought one of my close friends was annoyed with me, it was just a misunderstanding (so I hope). But it seemed that when they walked - on paths big enough for at most six people side by side - I was constantly walking behind them, horribly aware of what people might be thinking. "Aw, that poor girl, I feel so bad for her, booted behind her friends like that. How awkward."

On reflection, I can't really believe that they would do that on purpose - if I was shunted to the side, I believe they are all nice enough people to not have done it consciously. After all, two of them were my best friends in elementary school, and the other is my only familiar face in a class, and I hers.

On a less depressing note, I found out that a sophomore who was a drama buddy for the play I was briefly involved in last year, and is in my art class, refers to me as her sister. Warm fuzzies. Some underclassmen are so endearingly adorable (no condescension - I mean it in the best possible way). I wonder if I ever appeared that way to some juniors and seniors when I was an underclassman? Doubtful.

Rufous Hummingbird (Selasphorus rufus) 

They are said to live in the area I do, but I don't know - the hummingbirds I see are dark green with iridescent red throats - the ruby-throated hummingbird. I've never seen hummingbirds IRL that are this rusty color. Oh well. I trust you, Internet, to know where these birds live... at least, the majority. 

These guys are pretty ferocious - even for a hummingbird (background - pretty much all hummingbirds are super aggressive - my grandma once found a dead cat with a hummingbird bill lodged in it's skull. Yes, gross and morbid. You're welcome for that image). They are pretty small with a short, nearly straight bill and small wings that don't reach their tails when folded. "In good light, male Rufous Hummingbirds glow like coals: bright orange on the back and belly, with a vivid iridescent-red throat" (allaboutbirds.org). I love that description. Females are more green in places, though they still have patches of orange.

As I said, these birds are "pugnacious." They chase away other birds, sometimes birds that are more than twice their size, even when passing through territory when migrating. Basically, they defend turf that isn't even theirs. Their habitat ranges along the west coast through the Rocky Mountains of the U.S., and extends down into Mexico and up into the west coast of Canada into the bottom-most part of Alaska. Along with sipping nectar, they also catch small insects.

Cool Facts: 

• They've been seen chasing chipmunks away from their nests. 
•  The wingbeat frequency of Rufous Hummingbirds has been recorded at 52–62 wingbeats per second. 
• The Rufous Hummingbird makes one of the longest migratory journeys of any bird in the world, as measured by body size.   
• The female builds the nest alone using soft plant down held together with spider web.

Because it's so late and I'm in the mood for sleep, here's a song I listed in my last post: 

Rain by Priscilla Ahn. 

Enjoy.