It Will Be Fun, They Said

I have two types of chill playlists on Spotify: Ataraxia (Tranquility) and Good Vibes. While I've noticed that I tend to listen to Ataraxia the most, I've gotten back in the groove of my Good Vibes songs, which tend to include more rap. I've thus chosen one of my favorite songs from the latter playlist to be the backdrop of this post.

Sunset, by Kid Ink (I love his little hiccups at the beginning of each song)(explicit):

Or if rap (chill or nah) isn't your thing, another song from the same playlist then.

Are You With Me, by Lost Frequencies:

---

I find that I very rarely, if ever, set aside time to reflect on myself. I am unconcerned with character development, I just happen to notice it in myself as it passes by.

I'm a little less lax when it comes to my future. I tend to worry about that a little more, mostly because I have no career path set before me yet. I can go in any direction with an ecology major, but there are too many directions - I've no idea which branch I even want to set foot on, let alone think about all the twigs that sprout off even further along.

In trying to figure out what I want to do, I've been looking at a lot of internship opportunities. Last summer, I saw a real job for me in the wildlife rehabilitation area, but unless I get a position high up in that department, in a likewise large facility, I don't think I will be happy. Not entirely because I seek leadership, but I want to be specialized - I want to go to grad school, hopefully for a Ph.D, but for that I may need to study veterinary medicine - a field even more difficult than a doctor or nurse. I don't think I have the discipline for that.

I'm scouring the internet for opportunities next summer already - which SUCKS, because no dates have been released yet this early in the year. I found a program that will let me research abroad in many different areas of the world, as close as Big Sur, as far as South Africa, and as exotic as Fiji. This sounds entirely amazing to me, especially because I can get an entire semester's worth of credits doing that. I was also sent an email from my school about another different, shorter program, which will let me knock out my required upper-division lab class, also abroad. But since that occurs in May and I will (hopefully) still be in Sweden at that time, I'm not considering it. If all else fails, an associate at my wildlife internship last year let me know of an opportunity interning at the San Francisco Zoo. I hope I don't come across as cocky if I assert getting into that program will be easy for me with a letter of recommendation from another wildlife facility.

This is all short-term though. What of after college? A reality, for me, that seems to be approaching a lot more quickly than for my other classmates of the high school class of 2014.

Because I didn't even question I should take as many AP classes as I could in high school, I am on course to graduating an entire year early - given a course I need to take goes through the study abroad team and I can take it in Sweden. Even at a minimum, I'd graduate a semester early (I was two credits short of starting college a sophomore). It's crazy to think that next academic year might be my last year. I started, and just as quickly I stopped.

I'm not really into this whole college experience. Everyone I know is either having a blast, or had a blast and is telling me college will be some of the best times of my life. I mean, I made a few friends, but none I can see myself holding onto - one is too uninteresting (she agrees with everything I say) and the other very reserved (but she texts her old friends all day). A few others I don't even talk to except in class. I don't see any reason to stay here except to postpone my entrance into the real world. I've made no outstanding memories, I agree the campus and surrounding area is absolutely stunning, but I have no personal tie to it. If I graduated right now, I wouldn't even look back. Probably because this was a poor choice to begin with, but I aimed too high with my applications and was basically stuck with this university or an even worse one.

College has become a chore. It is not to be relished, but is merely a stepping stone to the next phase of my life. I'm not happy about what it's become, I wish I had better reasons to want to stay and extend my time here. I was hoping that when the classes got smaller I'd find more people to be friends with, but now I have those classes they are just enjoyable partners for homework. The people here just don't fit with me it seems, and the fact that they come in as large groups from local high schools already with friends doesn't help.

I tried clubs at first. I became a part of my school's Quidditch team, but it was so awkward. It took months for people to recognize my name, and it felt like we met just to practice. We always talked of getting together for a movie marathon or something outside of practice, but if they ever did I wasn't invited. It didn't help that I wasn't very good at the sport itself either; I always felt I was in the way of some of my more athletically superior teammates. Some people were already friends from past years, and very quickly new recruits in the first months trickled out. I only stayed on the entire year because I was too shy to leave. The only friend I made there is studying abroad this semester in England, and since I didn't really want to rejoin the team anyways I emailed the team head and told him since I was so "busy" and since I was planning to study abroad next semester I "didn't have time" to attend practices anymore.

I don't regret leaving the club, but I am very bored all the time. I don't see any other clubs I'd be interested in, and neither do I want to try joining any again. I never even enjoyed the clubs I was in in high school, though I was a part of three. Those experiences are hauntingly similar to my foray into college clubs.

But I'm scared to leave college. I know how hard the job hunt is, and I'm afraid no one will hire someone as young as me. I want to hold onto the institution of the young, I want the comfort of someone there to constantly guide me along whenever I ask. I don't look forward to leaving, but I'm not enjoying my stay to the fullest. I don't want to become complacent in a job, but neither am I making great strides here. I've boxed myself in; I've nowhere to go.

I constantly wonder if I should've considered transferring universities more seriously. A girl in my dorm, my second friend of only three at the time, transferred to Purdue at the beginning of second semester of our first year. She realized this place wasn't a fit for her, and she got out early. I wish I could've been that brave.

I will graduate early no matter what, given the chance. I'm not going to stay here and waste money that can be saved for grad school. Paying outrageous sums just for the experience and none of the education is stupid, especially since, so far, the experience sucks. I'll just have to chin up and start looking more carefully into job careers from now on.

The Saving of Insignificant Lives

This post is too somber for actual music. I chose a gorgeous soundscape instead, one of my favorites.

Fortune Soul, by Blackmill

---

Four weeks ago, I euthanized a male mallard duck.

Or at least, I was an assistant in his death; I was the one who held him down so he didn't make the process any harder than it had to be.

I was told it was completely painless, that the central nervous system was the first to shut down so he wouldn't be aware of his heart stopping, that to live with a calcified wing joint would be much worse than death.

I took his death well, I believe. It wasn't even like I was trying to hide emotion in the face of a (then) stranger. I genuinely felt no pity for the poor duck. I accepted his fate, that if he were to be released he would die anyways. In fact, I almost think I caught myself faking a little sadness for the staff member's sake; I didn't want to appear a complete robot.

But a week later, a fellow intern and I assisted in the euthanization of a crow with a severe concussion. We could literally see him drifting in and out of consciousness, and he was unable to sit upright or hold his head up. It was a lost cause, so the staff got the Fatal +* ready. But at the point of injection, I noticed the other intern beginning to cry. The staff noticed too, and comforted her. She recomposed herself after we left intake. We had other animals to care for. She didn't have time to cry.

*Fatal + is the name for the anesthesia we administer. It's very similar to anesthesia used for humans, but we basically overdose the animal so they never recover from unconsciousness. As a person who experienced anesthesia during the extraction of my wisdom teeth, I can assure anyone with concerns that it really is completely painless. I remember lying down on the surgery table, and ten minutes later they told me I could get up. I was never even aware I went under.

Am I really that insensitive? Am I supposed to feel such overwhelming emotion for an animal I have just seen? Am I, in fact, completely heartless? I understand the staff showing no emotion; they have been doing this for years. I have just entered this world and, apparently, with such a cruel mindset as well.

I have since witnessed eight deaths to date in six weeks, out of the roughly 10 deaths daily (not counting those who die on their own in our care). I've seen more raw illness and injury in a little over one month than I have in my entire life.

I am an intern at a very well known animal rehabilitation center, which is most know for taking in stray or abandoned dogs, cats, and exotics to adopt out. But in this particular branch, we have an amazing, brand new wildlife rehab facility, where we mostly get birds - passerines (songbirds), hawks, corvids, and waterfowl - but also mammals, like raccoons, skunks, and the occasional weasel.

There are three areas: Recovery, Nursery, and Courtyard. Recovery is where we intake animals. People either bring them to us, or we get them from other facilities that don't treat wildlife. Mammals, seabirds/waterfowl, and large birds stay here to recover. Other than the actual treatment in the exam room, the stories that come with the animals are the most interesting. We've had a crow come in that was wrestled away from a homeless man (who demanded $480 as compensation for what he spent on it), a squirrel that was fed breast milk by the family that brought it in (apparently they wanted to get it back as a pet when we were done - the mere thought makes me cringe. There was also more breast milk in a dish with the squirrel...), a perfectly healthy raven who was only brought in because he refused to move off a man's motorcycle, and a mockingbird who's papers mislabeled it as an albatross.

Here is a mockingbird:

Here is an albatross:

How did they even make that mistake?

Nursery is where the passerines are kept, and sometimes squirrels if they can't be outside yet. I am not a bird person, but I have learned the different species just by walking around and reading the placard attached to each reptarium. Off the top of my head, I can say the most common birds we get are European starlings, juncos, finches, mockingbirds, robins, hummingbirds, scrub jays, sparrows (of multiple species - house, white crowned, golden crowned), rock pigeons, morning doves, and Brewer's blackbirds (abbreviated as BRBL, so we also call them burbles - so cute).

Courtyard is where we transition animals in Recovery and Nursery to outdoors. There are four aviaries for both passerines and squirrels, all decorated with potted trees and branches and hanging sticks - as close to the real thing as we can get. We also have a small garden where we grow chard and a variety of kales, to feed the pigeons, doves, and waterfowl. Also in courtyard are large raptor aviaries, where there are sometimes hawks, owls, ravens, and crows. There are also small and large enclosures for the mammals. In addition to all this, we have two large pools, labeled Seabird and Waterfowl, as well as two small treatment baths, to test for waterproofing.

Out of all of this, Nursery used to be my favorite. When I just started, I felt very self-concious whenever there wasn't any work to be done. Nursery takes care of that problem, because there is always work to be done. We have four feeding timers - 30 min., 45 min., 1 and 2 hours - and they are constantly going off. There are always birds to feed who can't feed themselves. However, now that I am much more comfortable with the people who work here, I have to say I agree with a lot of the other interns thus far - Recovery is the best. As one woman said (the one who cried), everything else - the courtyard cleaning, the nursery feedings, the baby raccoon terrors - hell, the entire internship - all of it is just a ticket into the exam room. There's nothing I like better than getting a new box without knowing what's in it, taking the animal out, and figuring out what's wrong with it and what to do with it.

Sometimes, of course, there's nothing we can do with it. Sometimes a well-meaning person brings in an animal that is too far gone, or they "saved" it from a predator, and we can't do anything but bring it it's inevitable end. Just this Tuesday, we got in a juvenile red-tailed hawk with trichomoniasis. While it's treatable, the bird had too severe a case, and it was so malnourished there wasn't much hope. After it was euthanized, another intern took some pictures of the case and emailed them to me. Here are a couple:

Notice the black at the back of the throat? Those aren't just shadows. Those are pretty advanced lesions, caused by the parasite. Lesions are usually cream-colored, and can grow big enough to block the esophagus and eventually suffocate the bird. This hawk's esophagus was covered with the stuff, and about half of its tongue, too. Also, the outer, upper part of its beak, which is supposed to be yellowish, was a sick greenish tone.

Here's a spread shot of the hawk, with me holding it:

I didn't do a very good job. The wings are much wider; the joint between the radius/ulna and metacarpals could've been extended a lot more. Interesting how they have the exact same names as our bones? Evolution ftw.

You can't really tell from the picture, but the bird was so emaciated you could feel its keel. That's the "breastbone" of a bird, it's nearly equivalent to our sternum but very wide and very flat. In a healthy bird, you should just barely be able to feel it. In this case, you could actually pinch it. There was no muscle whatsoever.

Keel:

This wasn't some common mallard or crow. This was a hawk, of possibly the best-know species in California. And yet, I felt no more sadness at its death than I did the others. While I am uncomfortable and unnerved by my lack of extreme sympathy, I do much prefer it to crying in front of other people. I can cry by myself, easy. I have much to pity myself with. Being so vulnerable in front of other people, no matter how close I am to them, is another story entirely.

This doesn't mean I don't feel sadness entirely in intake. I'm physically conscious of my body slouching a bit every time I see the Fatal + bottle, but after thinking about it, I realize I just have a habit of accepting things very readily. For instance, if there's some sort of problem that could've been avoided by doing so and so - I don't even think that. The problem happened, and the next thing to do is to immediately alleviate said problem. I don't waste my time dwelling too much on what (unrealistically) could be done. I've transferred this habit to the exam room. The bird is sick. It will not recover, regardless of what we can do. I won't cause myself any more distress by dwelling on its mortality. It is hardly the first, and it will hardly be the last. Instead, I'd rather feel joy when working on an animal that does have a chance to recover.

As Dumbledore says, "Death is not the worst fate that can befall someone."

Metamorphosis

Rap/Hip Hop isn't my go-to genre, but all my "jams" are classified as such (Some are EDM, but the majority are rap). Like My Chick Bad, or Timber, or my current re-visited favorite:

Cookie Jar (feat. The-Dream), by Gym Class Heroes:

---

The end of my first semester at college is fast approaching. Finals week begins tomorrow.

(I find it odd that new subjects are introduced, last minute, right before the finals are give. In Biology, we started evolution and natural selection on Friday, which meant only one lecture on the entire subject before finals. Very odd system.)

I have been asked by a multitude of people whether I think I have changed at college. As I understand it, it is the norm for freshmen to experiment and change themselves in a strange environment with people who didn't know the old them.

I like to make myself see things from other people's perspectives quite often, and I don't find it difficult to approximate my old friends' and family's reactions to the "college me." I'd imagine they'd be surprised, most obviously because I dress a little bit differently and openly listen to music they didn't know I liked.

Me, Exhibit A: In high school, I had long brown hair, side bangs, and wore contacts. Extremely minimal make-up (I have been asked, face-to-face, while wearing eyeliner or foundation or whatever, if I wear makeup) and no fancy hair styles - not even a ponytail. I consistently wore T-shirts, usually with no prints, in winter or summer, either with hoodies or sweatshirts. Color palate - white, blue, black, gray, some red and yellow. Skinny jeans all the time, or jean shorts. Thin belts. Worn out Converse sneakers only, all the time.

Me, Exhibit B: In college, I still have long hair, but the bottom half has been bleached and dyed purple (at least it was purple; now it's washed out  to a blondish salmon-pink). Still minimal makeup. I own more long-sleeved knitted sweaters and actually wear them a lot, in addition to my T-shirts and sweatshirts. I noticed I tend to gravitate towards black now; I haven't bought any new shirts (except for the one concert merch), but I wear my black shirts from high school a lot more than I used to. Still wear skinny jeans, only dark gray or blue hues still. Thin belts. I have knee-high riding boots, Fuggs, ankle and combat boots - all of which I wear nearly as often as I do my sneakers.

In addition to all this, I own three beanies (I used to never wear hats of any sort), boot cuffs and mid-calf socks, a puffy canvas army green jacket, and a pea coat. I wear all of this pretty often, weather dependent. I also have new, thicker-framed glasses; my old ones were the nearly invisible Nike brand.

But here's the thing: I don't think I've changed at all. Despite the huge obvious differences between the two exhibits, I believe my basic personality and tastes are exactly the same.

Here's how: Everything that I've done differently in college, is the stuff I've always wanted to do in high school. I've always wanted to dye my hair an unnatural color. I thought punk rock kids had a badass sense of style, and wanted to wear black motorcycle jackets and shorts with sheer tights and lace up boots. I also liked the more popular fashion trends - I liked riding boots and boot cuffs and pea coats and flowy print tops with layered necklaces. Lacy tanks? Hell yeah. Knitted cardigans? Bring 'em to me. Graphic tees? I want them all. I adored slouchy beanies and acid-washed/ripped jeans, and off-the-shoulder sweaters. I wanted to wear and express all these things, during all four years.

The only problem with all that is that I had (and still have) really bad social anxiety. I had a dependable (and very boring) sense of style since the end of middle school that people had come to expect of me, and I was reluctant to change it because people would notice. And since I abhor the spotlight, I avoided any drastic style variations to keep people who've known my "style" nearly my whole life from singling me out.

For example, in the beginning of sophomore year, I got my first pair of Fuggs (technically, these are Bearpaws, but Fuggs is more recognizable). They were dark gray, of course (keeping with my color palate - I wasn't going to change more than one thing at once). I wore them to school about two weeks after I got them (I was that reluctant), and no less than seven people commented on them (and that was the approximate number of friends I had at the time). I vividly remember walking into my English class, and a close friend (at the time) who sat behind me said, "Wow, you're wearing boots! You never wear boots."

I wore them a week later, and then never again touched them until college.

Here at college, no one I knew personally came with me. I had zero friends starting out, and therefore zero people who knew what I was like. Therefore, I started wearing my riding boots and got cuffs to go with them. I bought a tank that says "Cool Story, Bro," and it's the first shirt I've had in my teen years that has words on it. I have maybe five knitted sweaters - which is five more than I owned in high school, and one long-sleeved shirt - which is also one more than I owned in high school. I finally got my combat boots - complete with badass buckles and laces - with long black and white aztec print socks to go with them. Everything I ever wanted to express in high school, but was too afraid to do because I didn't want to get called out on it, I'm able to do now.

Probably the best part is dying my hair. It's awesome. I know I'm not going with a trend either, because both hairstylists at the salon (I got my hair bleached for me, it's the one part I was uncertain doing myself) asked me if a lot of girls at my college have dyed hair (they don't). And I see why they would think that, because almost as soon as I go to college I ask to change my hair. It's not because it's a new fad, it's just something I've wanted to do for a very, very long time. But once again, blue or purple hair would have definitely attracted attention in my mostly preppy high school, and I wanted to avoid that at all costs.

(Don't get me wrong, I still don't like attention. I highly enjoyed going to my sociology recitations, but I never said a single word in discussions because I'm too shy. I'll debate and defend my point of view all day in my head, but I don't want to face other strangers.)

My clothing sense isn't the only suppressed thing I've stopped fighting. I'm pretty open about my music tastes too. I was highly embarrassed about liking more hardcore/screamo music that people like to associate with metal headbangers, and didn't tell anyone about liking bands like Pierce the Veil or Hands Like Houses for many years until the end of my senior year, when I found a person who told me first that he listened to that kind of music too. I always told people, when asked what artists I liked, Owl City (which isn't a lie either, I have all his albums). Even though he became kind of lame as I grew older, I still said it because it was better than being judged for the even more unpopular (in that environment) hardcore rock. I also started getting into EDM during the beginning of my senior year, but since I got the vibe that raves had a negative connotation and wasn't "real" music, I didn't tell anyone about it either. There's no point in sharing favorite music genres if people are going to look down on you for it.

But in college, it's basically a blank slate for me to express the image I've always wanted all along. The only thing I think that wasn't either me in high school or what I wanted to be in high school is my confidence. It should be pretty well known that it's not helpful for socially anxious people to be forced into situations that make them more anxious - don't do that whole "face your fears" schtick, it adds even more pressure. But since I'm starting small, it's easier on me. I know I have to go shopping for food and stuff and face the cash register myself, and I know there's no way around it, so I just do it without overthinking it for once. I know that a tour guide isn't going to show me around campus, so I figure out my schedule route myself. At the beginning of the semester, if I saw someone I thought wasn't out of my friend league sitting by themselves waiting for the next class, I'd go say hi. Baby steps. It's given me a little more confidence and independence.

But that's not the elephant in the room. All the things people think I've changed - my hair, my clothes - it's still the same me from high school. I've just finally stopped repressing doing the things I wanted to do out of fear that people would think differently of me. And it's great. It's so much easier shopping, and seeing something I like, and actually getting it for once instead of passing it by because it's too different than the usual.

For once, I'm both comfortable and happy in my skin. For once, I can't wait to see people's reactions to my "changes" when I get home for Christmas.

#dyehappy

Rallentando, Just For Now

Years ago, "back and back and back," I read The Giver by Lois Lowry. It was a noteworthy book, and I had (and still have) the pleasure of owning and rereading it as many times as I wanted. I won't say it became one of my favorites, as I do not think I was mature enough to understand that wonderful story to its full extent, but I still loved it enough to read it 5 times, maybe more. One tends to lose track of these kinds of things.

So I was understandably angry when I saw the trailer for The Giver. I saw way too much romance for my liking - the whole point in the book was that Fiona was unable to reciprocate what Jonas felt - and I thought that there was too much drama and suspense. Basically, my impression was that they turned the book into a Hollywood thriller. I believed the director and all involved had tarnished a book with a truly beautiful meaning, and I swore to never see it as an act of solidarity with the original story.

Notice the past tense.

I saw it today. My curiosity overpowered my head and I gave in. I wasn't disgusted, like I thought I would be, but I wasn't particularly impressed with it either. They did a good job of portraying the most important parts of the book, while leaving out and/or changing other aspects. I understand why directors must cut and change certain parts (after all, a movie is based on a book; they never claimed to be a carbon copy), but the changes bothered me still like they always will. The movie for the most part held my attention, but very loosely. Then they brought out the piano. And they played the piano.

Ah, music. Unfiltered, classical music. I remember you.

I can only describe the melody they played as bittersweetly enchanting. The fact that it was played on a grand piano and not a simple upright only enhanced the experience. I couldn't find the actual soundtrack, but some lovely people on Youtube have transcribed it to the best of their ability.

There was another version that sounded closer to the one in the movie, but the girl's playing technique was cringeworthy. I shall stop myself here before launching into a lecture (Also, she was using an electric keyboard, where you can hear that the keys are plastic) (STOP).

It reminded me of when I used to play the piano - proper, extended sonatas and etudes. Not the mainstream transcribed pop songs I became enamored with my senior year of high school, when I quit my piano lessons but still wanted to play in my free time. However, I will say that I never really found a career path as a musician appealing. I became quickly frustrated with a piece if I couldn't learn it swiftly enough, so (and I say this with the least amount of arrogance possible) it was a good thing I was a skilled sight-reader. But once I got the hang of a song, I would've gladly played it for an hour. And when I say "got the hang," I don't mean learned it so I could play it through with minimal errors. I mean that piece is memorized down to the last note quality. You could tell which were my favorite songs because I could play them, full speed, usually using all 7 octaves, with my eyes closed. I'd have played it so often before my hands could jump two octaves at a time between notes and still hit the right key(s) without looking. I never had to think. I just did. At those moments, I was both the performer and the audience. It's difficult to explain.

Those times were few and far between, but there was always a heavy rush of emotion and freedom and pride and happiness every time I learned a piece to that level. It was like adrenaline, a positive feedback loop where the faster I played, the better I felt, and that goaded me on to hit the keys with even more ferocity. In those moments, I was actually proud of who I was and what I could do. I rarely feel so much passion, positive or negative, that it's a physical sense in your chest, but sometimes, playing the piano gave me that sense. And if I ever felt bad, and if I was alone in the house, I could sit down at the piano and just let it all out. I may not be able to do some things, but at least I can do this.

Watching that scene in The Giver reminded me of my past piano days. As of right now, roughly 72% of my life has been dedicated to learning the piano. I can't just throw that away. I became extremely nostalgic watching the actors, and if I were home in California, the moment I'd've gotten home I would have sat down and played. But there's no piano here. Not even an electric keyboard.

I understand withdrawal now. It really does feel like a cavity in your heart. I've been listening to so much rock and screamo and EDM that I haven't even noticed the absence of classical music in my life. I've forgotten music can still sound good without auto tune. Hell, it can still sound good without lyrics. It can sound good with just one solo instrument. Nothing to hide behind.

I guess I was biased from that point forward, because whatever I felt at that piano scene in The Giver spilled over to the rest of the movie. I no longer see it as a Hollywood blockbuster, filmed for the sole purpose of making money. All the flashes of memory Jonas sees - people dancing, praying, laughing, and clearly feeling the presence of being alive - I don't know why, but it really got to me. I suppose it might be because I enjoy EDM too, and raves are about letting go and sharing adrenaline between the people around you and feeling the joy of simply being alive.* That heavy bass beat? It LITERALLY shakes your inner core if you're around speakers big enough. It grabs you and tells you to wake up. It's this joy that I refer to specially when watching The Giver. It's just a sense of freedom to live as you see fit, without guidelines and obligations and oppressiveness all the time, and it's the wonder as you experience so many other people living as they see fit. Because, obviously, they're going to be doing it a lot differently than you.

But even under that, there's a uniformity to the rush of memories Jonas experiences- a quick flash of a child blowing out candles, another flash and a man is leaping off a cliff into the ocean. Despite surface differences, there's almost always a common underlying theme the humans of Earth can all relate to. Refer Humans of New York (HONY).

*I've chosen to take the positive view, because I'm a fan of EDM. I know many people look down on raves as huge, messy party scenes where people get too crazy, and as places where drug use runs rampant. I would ask you though, if you think this, to please not generalize too much. I was one of the shyest and cleanest kids in high school (still am), and yet I'd like nothing more than to attend a rave with a couple of Kandi kid friends. Maybe even a camping festival, like Electric Forest. You don't need drugs to have a good time at raves.

So I guess the moral of the story is to reserve judgement. In my "technically" logic, this is blatantly impossible because there will always be a first impression of something when you meet someone or do something new. The gathering of data at first glance is inescapable. But technicalities aside, what people mean is acting on those observations. I saw the trailer for The Giver, hated it, and nearly missed out on a great movie. Though, as I've said, I may be biased because of the whole piano scene.

I really do miss piano. I never thought I would. It was always something forced on me by my Asian mother (really, what Asian hasn't played the piano at some point? It's their (our?) stereotypical instrument, like ping pong for sports. Calm down. I know there are exemptions to the stereotype). I was one of those kids who were pulled out of (elementary) school to practice for competitions. But now the closest I can get to playing is typing on a computer. If my parents can leave me alone in the house for a little bit when I get back home, that'd be great. I can relearn some of my old favorites.

This hiatus has gone on for too long.

---

If you have Snapchat, you may have noticed that they're covering TomorrowWorld, a hugely popular EDM festival. I'm pretty much crying at the injustice of not being able to attend. It doesn't help that I missed Beyond Wonderland too, back in San Francisco this last weekend, because my college started so early. I have a friend who, because of the University of California late start system, was able to attend, and he inadvertently taunted me with pictures and videos the whole night. Don't know whether to love or hate him for that.

But I digress.

In the Snapchat Story, someone had recorded an 8-second video of a song, and I RECOGNIZED IT. I listen to a lot of electro stuff when running, and one of those songs is a remix of "Rude" by Magic!. They played it at TomorrowWorld, and I recognized it. Do you know how hard that is? I like EDM, but I fully admit a lot of the songs all sound the same. But they played one of my favorite songs. I'm in agony.

Rude (Zedd Remix), by Magic!

The part that appears in the Story is around the 1:28 mark.

"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.

I Am

A human, firstly, obviously.  But I think even my shallow self can go a bit deeper than that.

Colleges essays are adding more and more pressure as the deadlines come ever closer, and the topics were, to say the least, dull. Perhaps UChicago's were interesting: "'History is everything they are not telling us' - who are 'they' and what are they not telling us?" "You are you and your ______." but then again, UChicago is rather infamous for their interesting essay topics.

But constant revision on my essays with topics like, "What is your best trait?" and "What has affected you the most?" has actually made me reconsider the depth of such prompts. Yes, they're still dull and somewhat boring to answer, but they do bring to mind questions I've never really considered before, simply because the topic was never thought to be important enough to give time to. Now, I feel that I order to answer these topics in a unique and truthful way was to - you know it - create lists of everything about myself. At first, they were about stuff that would actually matter to the colleges: age, interests, grades, etc. etc. but then I got a bit carried away with all the smaller bits of my interests.

Where to begin?

I am homo sapiens (not so sure about the sapiens part all the time), of the cryptic female gender. I am at a typical about-to-graduate age, with two eyes that cannot agree on what ethnicity I am - pick white or Asian, eyes, and stop compromising. I am right-handed, size 6 1/2 shoe size (though they used to be size 7 - no, both those sizes are women's - my feet literally shrunk) and 5' 4" (I also swear I used to be 5'5"). I am an ordinary student, who could be extraordinary if I put in the time, and a documentator of the movie reels in my head.

I am the singer of the shower, the blanket of all couches, and the climber of (mostly) all trees. I am the avid reader, the dedicated artist, the sufferer of perfectionism, an ostrich when I sleep, and a laugher of lame jokes. I am a teasing flirt with my best friends (if you are reading this, "person," you know who you are), a hater of the Twilight movies, a lover of all things Harry Potter, and a group-triggered chameleon.

I am a girl who has fallen out with her Oriental side (but still knows enough to recite the Chinese zodiac - in English and Chinese. Ha!). I am lazy when allowed to be so, but wildly passionate and loud when with best friends. I am somewhat clam-like, though I won't go so far as to say that I am a pearl inside. I am mostly conservative with clothes (death to skirts) and I dislike standing out on a daily basis. 

I am a soccer player (AYSO) and have been a horse rider since I was two. I started lessons when I was three, quit after a year due to moving, and then started again in 6th grade. I am now the lessor of a beautiful but sassy horse named Fancy Dancer, who listens to whatever I say, provided she's either tied up or I have treats in my hand (but Big Mama (she's a mama!) does have her moments - she enjoys head-hugging). I am a volunteer at my local Humane Society, a piano player, a Chinese tutor, and a victim of many, many tickle attacks. 

I am a Gryffindor, of Poseidon, a Hoot Owl, a part of the Cumbercollective, of District 4, an elf, and a Sherlock-without-the-intelligence, but with all the awkwardness. I am a naturalist, a gelato-lover, a heavy sleeper, a self-proclaimed water elemental, a gossiper, and "the blue in your back alley view, where the horizon and the rooftops meet."

I am the fire rat, the fox, the willow, a K'ank'in, a diamond, the falcon, a Mesha, the tiger, Osiris, the kangaroo, the honeysuckle, an Aries, and many more, if only I could find more zodiacs. I am loyal, a curious cat (sometimes the proverbial one), respectful, and at times I am unable to voice what I want to say. I am blunt, honest, bluntly honest, an easy smiler, and a person who is constantly derailing from track to track. Can you tell?

I am independent.

I am observant.

I am transparent.

But not by the dictionary definition. If anything, I am the opposite of transparent in that way.

This is hopefully the last majorly personal blog I will write. I'm not even this open in real life - I guess it's the false sense of security the Internet gives me. After this, reader, you will know practically all there is to know about me.

Except, of course, everything else that is of actual importance that I didn't put on here. 

“Who are you?"
"No one of consequence."
"I must know."
"Get used to disappointment.”
― William Goldman, The Princess Bride

Blind Eyes Wide Mind

I don't usually like personal organization. I have one folder threatening to fall apart because of all the Econ stuff I've filled it with, and a cluttered desk with multiple stacks of  binders and papers at least 1 foot high (and yet I still manage to remember in which stack I put my ACT confirmation sheet - take that, organization). Possibly the most impressive example is my horizontal closet strewn across my bedroom floor. I deem to clean it once every two weeks, but in the meanwhile, I just kick a clear path to my bed and remain satisfied.

But projects - God forbid one aspect is out of place. If I emulate some artist's painting, like I am right now with Delacroix's Lady Liberty Leading the People, I must grid my sheet and the copy to perfectly trace the outlines. Each line must be straight down to the last millimeter, lest the squares be wider at the top more so than the bottom and skew all my proportions. Posters and presentations must be carefully planned out - not only the content of text, but color scheme, division of information, font size, chronology, alphabetization, general balance, etc. etc.

I suppose I am a perfectionist after all, albeit a little lacking in will and uniformity at times... which I guess means I'm not really a perfectionist... but I still worry over the smallest of things... I'm not going to over-think this. I'm a quasi-perfectionist.

So whenever my organized side takes over (rarely as that happens), I do enjoy the opportunity to look at myself and iron out the little pieces of me that hide, hidden for the most part, in the folds. Basically, I create lists. I create lists of things I like, things I don't like, favorite music, blah blah blah, best Halloween costume ideas, ranking peers in order of importance, the best peeled fruits compared to their unpeeled counterparts (grapes win, hands down, even though it's such a pain getting the skins off. Oranges and bananas don't count, really). It's nice to know there are some certainties in life.

(none of these are in order of importance)
And so, List I:

Things I Like:
1. Sitting high up in spacious trees.
2. Listening to music that has such a powerful beat I can feel my chest vibrating/sub woofers.
3. Good friends who laugh when I do awkward things instead of looking at me askance.
4. Food.
5. Eyes without a uniform color (coughgreeneyesarebesteyescough).
6. Harry Potter EVERYTHING.
7. Hugging someone who's wearing a squishy sweater.
8. Riding cantering horses with arms outstretched (horses give you wings, not RedBull).
9. Books of the fiction genre.
10. Singing as loudly and as off-key as I can when no one's home (and around certain friends).

Things I Don't Like: 
1. Conspiracy theories.
2. Stepping on seaweed in the ocean.
3. The nickname "J-Money."
4. Butter that is cut away in wedges or at the corners instead of in a straight vertical line that preserves its shortening rectangular shape.
5. Men who insist on sitting with their legs spread wide like they've got something there.
6. People who laugh obnoxiously loud when trying to look cool, but end up sounding like braying donkeys.
7. Writhing maggots (if you get this I love you - C&H).
8. People who text during the best part of my favorite movie/show.
9. Crying babies and children in general.
10. Drivers who don't use a turn signal.

Obligatory likes/dislikes out of the way. Now lets see...

Favorite Snacks: 
1. Goldfish
2. Nutella
3. Strawberries and sugar.
4. Popsicles.
5. Those Asian jello-things with bits of aloe cubes.
6. Chips - doesn't matter what flavor as long as it's not Original (usually).
7. Tea with buttloads of sugar is totally a snack.
8. Ice cream.
9. Various dry cereal.
10. Toast.

Prettiest/Most Interesting Plants: 
1. Jasmine (bonus for smelling so good).
2. Tree of a Thousand Stars (look up serissa foetida)
3. Baobab
4. Hibiscus
5. Black Bat Flower
6. Bleeding Heart
7. Welwitschia Mirabilis (I had to look it up to spell it)
8. Waterlily.
9. Oxalis
10. Green Jade Flower

Best Books: 
1. Harry Potter.
2. A Wrinkle in Time.
3. Tales from Outer Suburbia.
4. Percy Jackson anything.
5. Eragon - first book only.
6. Call of the Wild/White Fang.
7. The Fault in Our Stars.
8. The Hunger Games (I finally caved, it is pretty good).
9. The Mists of Avalon.
10. Zoobiquity.
(11. The Little Prince - I had to add it on)

Best Random Trivia:
1. The world's termites outweigh the world's humans 10 to 1.
2. Pope John Paul II was named an honorary Harlem Globetrotter in 2000.
3."Queue" is the only English word where you can remove the last four letters and have it still sound the same.
4. Pinocchio is Italian for pine eye (Pino is Italian for pine, Occhio is Italian for eye). Mindblown.
5. Cat urine glows under a blacklight.
6. There are 293 ways to make change for a dollar.
7. There are 366 dimples on a regulation golf ball.
8. Polish is the only word in the English language that has two completely different meanings based on whether the first letter is capitalized or not.
9. The microwave was invented after a researcher walked by a radar tube and a chocolate bar melted in his pocket.
10. "Benkinersophobia" is the fear of never receiving your Hogwarts acceptance letter.

Best Songs (I'm definitely leaving out a lot here, and this list fluctuates constantly):
1. Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen
2. Wake Me Up - Avicii
3. The Lightning Strike - Snow Patrol
4. You Need Me, I Don't Need You - Ed Sheeran (mainly because of the last lyric)
5. Charlie Brown - Coldplay
6. Rain - Priscilla Ahn
7. Sailboats - Sky Sailing
8. If My Heart Was a House - Owl City
9. Some Nights - Fun
10. How I Became the Sea - Owl City
11. Bonus - Someone Like Me - Ylvis. Because I had to, that song cracks me up every time.

Let me just say that there are so many other Owl City songs that I didn't put here. I restricted it to two, otherwise the whole list would be Owl City, and/or Snow Patrol.

The Most Useless Inventions:
1. Glow in the dark sunglasses.
2. Pedal-powered wheelchair.
3. Double sided playing cards.
4. Portable chin rest.
5. Two-person sweatshirt
6. Butter in a chapstick-like container - a "Butterstick."
7. Picnic pants.
8. Small portable fan that attaches to your chopsticks and cools your noodles as you eat them.
9. Revolving ice cream cone.
10. Dehydrated water.

Ok, so that last list I had a bit of help from the internet. But see? Crazy lists of random things to prove I'm organized - not a waste of time! I limited all these to just 10 per list, otherwise this would be going on forever. Usually they are much longer; it was so hard choosing which ones I liked the best, especially for the songs.

If you're wondering what the title of this post is, and thinking it doesn't relate, the context actually makes sense - just think about it. There is meaning behind it, and it's not just a pretty and mysterious caption. I don't think I'm the kind of person who tries to hide behind misleading veils.

And because I was extra unproductive yesterday, I have two videos to share today. The better one is last, but that doesn't mean the first song isn't also really cool. It's just because the feeling the second one leaves you with is much like saving the tastiest part of dinner for last - you can walk around for a long time afterwards, still tasting it on your tongue.

That was the best analogy I've ever made.

Calling the Maker, by Aimee Allen

Contre Temps (a short film)