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07 June 2009 @ 02:25 pm
Okay, first of all, i need to figure out what is going on with my billion blogs. I have a blospot account, which is that link in the top left hand corner of this eljay, if you haven't noticed. I called it a&a because that's what I planned to name a mini fashion-stop thing with my friend - except that evidently is not happening anymore. So there goes that plan down the drain. So I decided to just make it a fashion blog - but that's difficult, because it takes a lot of my time. And now I don't know what to do with that blog.

I know I want to post the following, but how is the problem, so suggestions?:

1. personal reflections, as in this current eljay. I could repeat these personal reflections into another blog?
2. personal works, meaning doodles/drawings, graphics or whatever that I've created using my poor photoshopping skills. Oh, and works of writing, like short stories?
3. fashion? Or am I being delusional here, because that will take too much of my time?

How am I supposed to do this? What will become of this eljay? Will it just become the everything eljay in which I pretty much bombard you with everything I ever want to post about? This is a bit troublesome.

I've got to make this post short, since I'm going out job-hunting, with voicelessdreams or whatever her pseudonym is. Too lazy to look it up, and too pressed on time. But meanwhile, I feel like I should share this dream.

Last night, I had the absolute weirdest dream ever. Well, that would be a lie - I've had stranger dreams about mining lego blocks. Yeah, you read that correctly. But in last night's dream, I dreamt that I got married at least 4 times. As to how and why, I am not sure either. Is my subconscious just screwing with me? Or, or, would this actually happen in real life? Eh... highly doubt it. Anyway. Onto the story.

I start off the dream with having recently divorced. My last ex-husband was an MIT alum that I knew. And then, wandering around in the subway station after getting off from work, I run into this one guy, who I've known since 6th grade (who I will admit I did like during junior high). We catch up and he tells me that he's having marriage problems with his wife, a Princeton alum (he's going to Princeton this fall). They're on the verge of divorce. We exchange phone numbers or whatever, and then catch up occassionally. Then one day he calls me and tells me he's divorced with his wife.

There's a period of no explanation between the next event and between what I just told you - I think my subconscious is telling me to infer that things happened? But next thing I know it, he's proposed to me and we're going to get married. In fact, we are getting married, and I'm in my dress, he's in his tuxedo, and all of a sudden his ex-wife's relatives show up. For some reason, they are not convinced that they are divorced - no, they refuse to acknowledge the fact that the two have divorced. And so now I have to put up with the stupid relatives, who are doing all they can (with their obnoxious voices, and always shouting in Chinese too), to stop the marriage from going on. But in the end, his ex-wife shows up and shoos her relatives away, and we successfully get married. There's a period where I talk with his ex-wife and he's there too, and it's extremely awkward. But we get to exchange information about him (this is a little creepy).

Next thing I know, it seems like the next day, and for some reason I'm getting ready for another marriage? I know I said it seemed like the next day, but as to what happened between my marriage with Mr. Princeton is under question - my subconscious is not letting up on what the heck happened afterwards. And now, I'm getting married to none other than Rain. Yes, Rain, Korean star, Bi. Funny thing is, I never see him at all - except I see pictures of him. So we're getting ready for a reception party or something, and a Korean lady comes. I assume it's his relative. And somehow it turns into the Korean lady testing my piano skills. By the time this is over...

I move onto the next day. Or, so it seems. Whatever happened after the marriage is once again a mystery forever. And now I'm getting ready for an after-the-wedding party. This is really weird because the guy I'm getting married to is this one guy who's in a grade ahead of me, who I didn't know too well (and neither did I have a great impression of him). He's invited all of his friends, which include like 100 jocks and a billion other Asians from his college. I really only know like 5 people. One of the guests is even like running from jail or something. It's a little hectic. And for some reason, we are both wearing our high school graduation robes instead of like wedding gear. My dream ends when the police come after the guest who broke out of jail.

So what is this? What is the meaning of this dream? Notice that I only really get married, meaning I only witness the real marriage ceremony once. What does this mean? Will I get married four times (at least)? And I feel like the only person I actually really liked for real was the first guy mentioned in this dream (not the MIT alum). Please enlighten me.

Anyway. I have got to run now. Bye guys.
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Sorry I haven't updated in a long time. It feels like a lot of things started muddling up and catching up with each other and I simply did not have enough time to go back to blogging. But it's been a long time and it feels good to be finally high school-free and, well, being frictionally unemployed and enjoying do-nothing moments at home, where I frequently watch 24 or whatever shows I want.

As for non-Econ types, I'm sorry if I have to put you through the Econ jargon. Frictionally unemployed is only one form of unemployment, in which the people are unemployed because they are unsatisfied with their current job. Speaking of Econ, I feel like taking Econ has increased my views on life and the world in general. You can describe almost anything in terms of marginal cost or marginal revenue, and possibly even supply and demand. It's got a universal application. Meanwhile, however, there are lots of people who pretend to know a thing or two about Econ but really don't: point and example? Our government.

Anyway. I graduated last Wednesday and realized that, hey, I'm not really friends with most of my senior class. And why is that? Quite honestly, I feel like not much of my senior class was very affable [I'm mostly friends with people that were in the class above mine, which is already in college, and those in a class below mine, like the juniors]. The Asian population was, well, full of people that seemed to think they knew a lot but in reality didn't - though I felt some of those "hard feelings" were reconciled when we all graduated. But the girls, especially. Oh my. Most of them were all caught in a desperate attempt to catch attention on themselves, be it in the form of unnecessary drama or mindless complaining, which I often had to listen to. Unfortunately.

Not that these things are negatives of public schooling in general - I feel like this problem would be magnified in private schooling, where the select few make more noise to make up for the smaller numbers of attendees. I mean, that also happens to be the good part about public schooling. You're able to hide in the numbers [I'm still not very sure why I was voted "Most likely to cure cancer," however; I'm not even going into Bio, for goodness sake!]. You can make yourself hidden in the crowds. And hey, you can choose classes to take in which you're usually stuck with the same crew - it means you don't have to deal with people in other crowds that you don't like.

And so, on Wednesday, my public schooling career has officially ended. And with that, I have accomplished none of the things that I had planned on doing, as mentioned in my previous post. So it's up to this summer, huh. Well, I can say that I have made "little progress" in these past few days - other than, well, lazing around and watching TV. But the summer is long and I'll grow bored. And I'll have to turn to those things.

Meanwhile, I also have to start looking for a job. It's especially difficult these days to find a decent job, since the unemployment rate, what, increased again? Yeah. But I'm looking for a job as a pianist in one of those nice hotels or nice restaurants. I wonder if they'll be looking for any. I, however, will refuse to work what I classify as "hard labor," which includes cashier-ing or busboy-ing or lugging around crates or anything [hence frictional unemployment].

I feel like I'm losing touch on blogging. Sorry for this short post and its lack of, well, continuity, I guess. Until later, guys.
01 February 2009 @ 05:24 pm
I didn't mean for the title to be so choppy & fragment-y. But I'm still recovering from the fact that minutes ago, I had a huge page of livejournal post that was written and seconds ago I had pressed the "Add Buttons To Your Toolbar" button and all of it disappeared. And now I am trying to rewrite all of it. This is not the first time this has happened. Nonetheless, I shall stop dwelling on the loss and continue. Now, with January put behind us, I realized that,

I only have four f***ing months of school left.

Excuse the cussing. But I feel it is only necessary. It feels like ages ago when I first entered high school (and was deceived, thinking it would still be the flippant junior high life). And now, with only four months left of my high school life left, I figure I might as well make the best out of it. Utilize it well. Ironically, I am still doing homework. But that's just part of my innate nature of not liking seeing zeros or incompletion grades. Except when a one precedes the zeros. Like, in 100. Speaking of which, I came upon an interesting quote, in which the protagonist said (not verbatim, but something along these lines), "All the things that you fought for, your money, your power, they all mean zeros to me. It's only meaningful when I have a one in front of it, like my family." Now, isn't that clever? I think so.

After deep contemplation, I have decided that I would like to accomplish four things. Four seems like a small list, but it'll probably end up, for me at least, biting off more than I can chew off.

1. Draw/design more. By design, I mean fashion designing.

Which reminds me that I still have to do Fashion Update #2. I think previously I had said something like posting up the Spring 2009 RTW shows, when I really meant Fall 2009. Which are all up on the NYMag Fashion website. At least the designers that I care about are posted on the website. But yes, designing more. It also helps me be more in-cue with the fashion world.

2. Write more. Possibly a Chinese novel.

If you stopped at "Chinese novel" and went, "wtf?!", do not be alarmed. And I am quite serious about the Chinese novel part. I'm not sure when I struck up the idea, but currently, I am quite obsessed with the idea. I've tried several times to write a Chinese story, but it turned out to be a flop because I never had a clear direction in my stories. I've finally come up with a good story, though. So, I might as well use it, no? Which reminds me. The other day I was doing "research" aka reading Chinese novels, and came across the most popular Chinese novelist of the time. Turns out not only is he the richest author in China (as well as most-hated celebrity in China), he is a pretty boy. No joke. Many can testify to his pretty-boy-ness, including feona and Rae. So, while I was looking up more pictures of him, I came across a sad fact that, unfortunately,

He is of short stature. And not just like 5'6" short stature. I mean 5'1". A midget. A certified short midget. Who looks deceivingly tall in his up-view or upper-body photos.

I shed some more tears (not literally) yesterday after I visited his blog and found more pretty pictures of him. What a pity.

3. Play more piano. Do more with music.

I've been meaning to compose some music. I've never really composed for real. Usually I'll have a catchy tune stuck in my head in the middle of class (god forbid!) but by the time I'm home, the tune will have completely disappeared and be replaced by Britney Spears' whiney voice, courtesy school bus radio music. If only I could remember those songs. I don't have perfect pitch, so it's not like I can madly scribble down the notes on a notebook or a piece of paper.

So one of these days I'll sit down in front of my piano and stare at the white keys, trying to wrack a melody out of my head.

But by music, I mean more than just composing. I mean, in general, playing more piano and learning more pieces. I've been meaning to get my trio back together, which unofficially disbanded. The other two members are seniors, so I'm sure they have just as much free time as I do. I know for sure one of them does. The other member, however, is of a recluse kind. Not only is he mute, he's also deaf. A deaf-mute. Amazing, though, that he can play cello so nicely. But most definitely deaf. There was one time that I met him at the SAT testing center and embarrassingly called his name out 10 times (almost at top lung capacity), had to run like an idiot to catch up to him, shouting his name another five times, before he finally acknowledged my existence.

Also, if we play enough nice trio music, perhaps we could earn some money when the weather gets nicer and people feel like getting married. They pay a nice, ample amount of money for people to play at weddings. Oh, and, if anybody needs piano lessons or needs to be accompanied, please, by all means, recommend him/her to me. Another unofficial goal of mine is to get some money for myself.

4. Work out. (Via jump roping).

I do not kid. Jump roping is amazing. Look it up - it's a great cardiovascular exercise. But, nonetheless, I need to keep in shape.

But now I will digress onto another subject that I did not mention in the title. This came across me the other day during lunch, when one of my friends handed me a "dating match" survey, you know, one of those surveys where they ask you these random little facts about you and "match" you with somebody based on superficial traits, like favorite ice cream flavor or preferred super power. I figured it would do no harm filling out the survey, as I would not be giving out crucial information, like my social security number. After promptly filling out the survey I asked my friend what she would be using it for. She responded, rather nonchalantly,

"I'm trying to match up the Asian senior girls with the Asian senior guys."

OH GOD. Spare me. Now, I understand that this little survey was just for a little fun, but perhaps I had contemplated the matter a bit too deeply and had responded (perhaps too harshly) with, "Please, none of them are worth my time." I later took the statement back. Because perhaps it was a bit too harsh. But after deep thought, is that really not true?

I have no interest, honestly, in being matched with any of the Asian senior guys in my school. I know them all too well, from their self-righteousness belief (& arrogance) in them being "so smart" (which is really a load of BS). I can see through their nerdy glasses or their bad hair. Now, I'm not trying to shoot down an entire boatload of people, but it has been true in most of the cases. Because, in all honestly, none of them are very smart. To which my friend exclaimed, "But they're the smartest guys in the school!" Yeah, but our school was never exceptionally brilliant in the brain department. If they were "so smart" then why haven't they a) gotten into a better college than I have or b) why aren't they valedictorian instead of myself? There. Point proven.

Now, I seem to have come off a bit arrogant in the process. Okay, fine, I was pretty arrogant in that paragraph right there. But I think my arrogance is different from their arrogance. Because, at least, in a sense, I have the right to be. But then again, I am not always flaunting my arrogance, am I? Only when necessary - to shoot down too-large egos of guys (I swear, it has something to do with testosterone). And besides, I am not dumb enough to flaunt arrogance in front of smarter people. Smarter people I admire. Large balloon egos, not so much.

I'm sorry, (Asian senior) guys at my school. None of you are deemed very intelligent in my mind. It's not your fault, though. I think I'd rather be an old spinster than compromise with somebody who is of lower intelligence than myself. How can someone, who, mind you, can not even fathom or comprehend your own intelligence, truly understand you? You'd be surprised how much someone's intelligence makes up somebody. That is why I need to find someone who is smarter, or at least as smart as I am.

Now some of you may be, well, good luck finding someone like that. Thank you. I appreciate your wishes of good luck.

But not even intelligence is the issue. Maturity level is the other. Artistic level is another. Especially in the Asian guy department at my school. It's like they spent so much dabbling in the books and left maturity behind or something. Not that dabbling in books has made them more intelligent. As for artistic level, no comment.

Funny, though, because my friend said that "usually [these nerdy-ish guys] are the most sensitive and most nice." Yeah, biggest joke in my life. If they really were, they wouldn't be trying to bet their puny little brains on the line against mine. I don't think that last line made any sense. What I meant to say was that they are a) NOT sensitive at all. Or b) nice. They wouldn't know nice or sensitive if both of them hit them on their empty heads.

In the end, it feels like I've contemplated a small survey a little too much. Because we all know a soulmate will arise from the matching of favorite TV show or favorite music genre.

(I feel like this post became much more vindicative after all of my hard work was erased to a blank thanks to the Google toolbar.)
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22 January 2009 @ 08:34 pm
As one (and probably the) of my favorite authors of all time, Jane Austen, put so aptly in Northanger Abbey,

"Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love."

So, after a wonderful (but not so eloquently put) journal on love, let us move onto another sort of love. A friendship love, a love close to kinship, but sometimes can be much greater, much stronger than that sort of love. A love that can rejuvenate us in our times of despair, build a wall between ourselves and the world, and make ourselves feel invincible. I might move back to the subject of romanticism, but that is for another time. Oh, and by the way, fashion update #2 is up and coming. Unfortunately, not all designers (at least the ones I love dearly) have had their Spring 2009 RTW shows yet, so I might put off fashion update #2 for a while.

When we've discovered that life is a disappointing lie, we often rely on the truths - our families and our friends. It is interesting to note, however, that families and friends are always grouped together. It's because they belong to the same sort of love. These are the loves that we may cry for because they melt our hearts and give our existence meaning in the world. But of families and friends, there is a difference.

Sometimes, we are so close to our family that it is difficult to be frank with them. We would hate to see them hurt because we are so willing to bear the burden of everything for ourselves. They are so dear to our hearts that we don't want to hurt them. These are the things we are willing to bottle within ourselves to make everything happier.

But when the pressure grows inside that bottled soul, it is up to the friends to release the cap and let the worries fly away. These are the people we turn to, people we know (if they're real friends) will never turn on us.

I think friendship, like romantic love, depends on a bag of chemicals in our body. Like the love at first sight (now, mind you, I am reluctant to believe in the existence of such things), sometimes there is a spark between you and whoever it is and that's all it takes to know that the two of you will be the best of friends. Friendship is a nice complement to love. It's much more comfortable and reliable.

At least for me, I think that time is no factor for friendship. My best friends are usually people who I started off on the right foot to begin with. Sorry, but if I had a bad impression of you to begin with, even if I end up making up with you about it later, chances are we won't be good friends. Well-known acquaintances, perhaps, but not good friends. And certainly not anyone I will trust to reveal myself to.

It was so at my seven-week summer camp. Seven weeks is not a very long time, but not a very short time either. It's long enough to understand many things about people, especially if you spend most of your entire day with them. At the summer camp, though, I discovered that the ones I ended up hanging out with were the people I started off on the right foot to begin with. And since I'm pretty sure they don't check my livejournal (at least the ones that I will probably not say some flattering things about), I might as well call them by their real names.

To begin with, I noticed that either was around people who were extremely alike with me in many aspects or with people who were extremely opposite with me in many aspects. My roommate was much opposite from myself - she's a mini-socialite. Or at least sort of. I think she just likes being in the company of people. Frank, but in as much nicety as possible. Fidgety. Seriously still lives in five-year old mentality, but for some reason is very shockingly frank about certain mature topics, which I will not delve into.

But we, quite honestly, became the best sort of friends. Wish I contacted her more often. But she was certainly very amusing. And we would often talk to like 3:00 in the morning, like for three hours straight, about random things. It took some determination to end our late-night talks and to finally go to sleep. Thanks to her, I now have a bad sleeping cycle. I'm not sure what's so very opposite of her from me, but there certainly was some sort of subliminal message that I had that told me I would get along with her the most.

My second best friend was our neighbor. She was the one who was a little like me - bit more sarcastic and cynical. And we were into classical music, too. Well, and just music in general. The one thing that I liked most about hanging out with her was that we could talk about anything. We could talk about topics that I've mulled about in school, but never had the courage to discuss in class. An intellectual partner. I think we were a little more alike, especially on one topic - our judgmental sides. We both, later in the seven-week camp, decidedly hung out with an exclusive circle of small friends at the summer camp and grew to dislike more and more people that were plain tolerable to begin with. Seven weeks, surprisingly, is enough for you to know what sort of people you like and what sort of people you dislike.

This post is getting a little long, so I'll cut the chase. I discovered, through the course of seven weeks, that there is quite a selectivity in making friends. And that the friendships that were founded on shallow accounts were the ones that died first. They were the first sacrifices laid at the altar when you discovered an inconvenient truth about them or a pet peeve you had that they unfortunately possessed. I confess - it's difficult for me to have mediocre friendships. Either we are good-sort-of acquaintances wherein I act politely and kindly towards you, or we are the best of friends. It is an awkward situation when you are sitting on the chair, thinking of what you want to be frank with to whoever it is, who happens to be only a mediocre friend. This level of trust is not attained, and it is too difficult (and frustrating) to fidget in your seat over what to tell and what not to tell.

Especially when you are not the best of friends, you discover that as you get to know so-and-so more and more, their flaws become more and more amplified. You can not help but think so-and-so's exaggeration and pain-phobia is all an act for more attention. You can't help but think so-and-so's complicated "love" relationships are just stupid and attention-seeking and frivolous. You can't help but think why you ever decided to befriend so-and-so. It was better when you were just acquaintances.

In the end of this rambling post, I find myself arriving at a conclusion: don't bother making light friendships. The acquaintance level friendships are often purposeful (as in, for copying homework or such, haha), but not worth it for deepening relationships. Often you know if you're going to be friends with this person for life. Like love, it takes a couple of chemicals to react in your body. The best friendships are often between extremely alike people or extremely opposite people. Complements and substitutes. Like goods. Cross price elasticity + and -. Nobody will know what I'm talking about.
So, this winter break and additional week of not doing much homework and playing lots of video games as well as of watching dramas, but mostly playing video games, has brought me back to livejournal. And since not many other people are updating, I might as well bring everyone back from hibernation, because, as we all know, I am the leader of trends. Hah. Yeah, take that.

So this past week, I was engulfed with the urge to rewatch a lot of the things I've watched before. And no, that does not mean melodramatic Autumn Tale, though that was one of like my first ever Korean dramas. I've gotten past it. What I mean is the stuff that really is good. Classic. And yes, one of them I did watch like 8 years ago. But that's not the point. Past the outdated fashion, it still is classic. But I digress. That is the topic of the next post, anyway. Or maybe it won't.

But overall, I got the impression that I was, once more, slowly falling back in love with this strange concept of none other than "love." How, you wonder, do you fall in love with an abstract idea? The phrase itself sounds like a riddle, but it really isn't. Honestly, children.

Have you ever wondered what would happen if you were the protagonist? I have thought that many times - and no, not for shallow reasons like "Oh, the guy is so good-looking I wish I could end up with him!" No, not that. The story, the entire process that the protagonist goes through is in itself admirable. To be able to experience love is in itself an admirable experience. Wait a second. That last sentence was phrased perhaps a bit badly. What I mean is, love is a life experience that we should all experience some time in our lives.

Now, don't get me wrong. From my last few paragraphs you've been getting the impression that I want to suddenly be infected with leukemia and suddenly fall in love with someone I've been in a marriage contract with? No, no, no. Let's not go to Korean drama material. Once again, that is a topic for another post. Most likely tomorrow, unless I come up with a better topic to talk about.

No, any love is admirable. I wish I could experience so much with somebody like that in my life. I wish I could experience the pangs of maybe lost love (though that may not be preferable). This is a difficult topic to talk about - all my sentences are coming out weirdly phrased. Yes, I have the capacity to be able to love. It's just that I have not found/experienced that love yet. I wish I could.

Of course, I am not asking for the over-the-top, overdramatic, distasteful some times, and immature high school crush/love. Please. I'm talking about someone you could share you soul with. A soulmate. Someone fate has destined you to be with. Someone you could go to the depths of the earth and pass through millions of obstacles and still be together. Perhaps not in body, but at least in mind. Nothing can separate us.

But until now, I can only mope. Ah. If only I had a Mr. Darcy. I digress again.

On a side note, I got my "dream pillow" back. Yes, it's a pillow that I think induces me to at least remember my dreams more vividly because in a typical 6-7 hour sleep, you have a lot of dreams.

Maybe I'll elaborate on this journal another time. But the idea of love enchants me. Seriously. I wish I were in love. I do hope I fall in love some time in my life. If not, I will forever remain a Romanticist.