5.29.2011

k m i write??

I always wonder about the people who say they want to be writers, but they don't write particularly well. Maybe they like to write, but whatever they write isn't particularly interesting or profound or novel. Some don't even seem to have any particular intrinsic motivation to write, other than to vent their own feelings and complain about things. Even that gets old after a while. Before you go, what the heck, you hypocrite, keep in mind that I have no intentions on being a writer. I write for myself, and that's that.


Lots of people think they have good ideas. Nine out of ten people think they have good ideas. Most of them aren't really special. When I was in middle school, I thought that when I was older I should write a book about my life story, because it was so angsty. Now I look back on myself and want to laugh to death. My life isn't really interesting or even super-painful. It's so average. I have nothing to bring to the table.


If you really want to be a writer, start practicing. Stop thinking your diary entries are legitimate writing samples. Read the newspaper, read all the great classics. If you think As I Lay Dying and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and 1984 and Shakespeare are incomprehensible, stupid, and/or pointless, then you should find another path for your life. Look around you. Read everything. Form your own opinions and creative path. Write about that old person eating alone at McDonald's. Write about the sidewalk. Write about politics. Write about nothingness. Write a real story. 

Writing about yourself won't really get you anywhere. You're going to need some real talent, and some people just don't have it in them. Try to objectively identify whether or not you have it. Nobody really wants to read things about your life, unless you do something historically relevant first. People want to read about things that are relevant in their own lives. That's why beauty blogging is such a huge industry. It's largely vapid and redundant, but everybody is on a quest for beauty. It's also why the news articles and soap operas and health articles are popular. It's also why sex sells. Write about something you are passionate about, and then connect it to everyone. 
-T.

5.26.2011

amazing.

"In the late 1880s, the body of a 16-year-old girl was pulled from the Seine. She was apparently a suicide, as her body showed no marks of violence, but her beauty and her enigmatic smile led a Paris pathologist to order a plaster death mask of her face.
In the romantic atmosphere of fin de si├Ęcle Europe the girl’s face became an ideal of feminine beauty. The protagonist of Rainer Maria Rilke’s 1910 novel The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge writes, “The mouleur, whose shop I pass every day, has hung two plaster masks beside his door. [One is] the face of the young drowned woman, which they took a cast of in the morgue, because it was beautiful, because it smiled, because it smiled so deceptively, as if it knew.”
Ironically, in 1958 the anonymous girl’s features were used to model the first-aid mannequin Rescue Annie, on which thousands of students have practiced CPR. Though the girl’s identity remains a mystery, her face, it’s said, has become “the most kissed face of all time.”"
[http://www.futilitycloset.com/]

5.25.2011

the real breakup.

Something happened inside me today. I don't know if it will last.
        These past few weeks reconnecting with D has really been comforting me. At first it was just about that. Then it became about seeing if we could get back together. Then it became about me trying to get him to like me again. Today something changed in me.
----------------------------
T: I was just sort of hoping that there would be something to make you learn from your mistakes. (talking about his slacker-ness and not doing his work on time or properly)
D: LOL no, one time I got caught plagiarizing a complete paper, and I didn't get a zero or anything!!
T: .....WHAT. THAT'S HORRIBLE.
D: I have no respect for writers. They just make money off of just writing.
T: .............Writing well takes a lot of skill and work and talent.
D: I doubt that. 
T: [speechless. dying inside.]
-----------------------------
And there it is. That was the moment today when I finally realized that our differences are irreconcilable. I've always tried to fix him. I've tried to show him another side to humanity. I've tried to show him the beauty in art. I've tried to show him a deeper meaning to life. I've tried to get him in touch with ephemeral emotions. I've finally realized that I can't show him these things. Like I have, he has to find these things for himself, within himself. I hope that one day he will find these things. I try tell him all the time what he means to me. I was crying in his car today. Not because I was sad, but because I was so overwhelmed with emotion. All of the seniors graduating, and here's D and me just like old times, but something so different inside of me. I still aim for us to keep on being best friends, though by best friends I don't mean good matches or people who understand each other totally. For us, I mean people who have been through a lot together. People who have really shaped each other. Me especially. I have changed so much, and it is for the better. He laughed at me while I cried. It's not as mean as it sounds. He says he understood, but it was like someone laughing when he is uncomfortable or doesn't know what to do. He is just a boy. He is older than me, but he understands so little. It's not his fault, and he will come to realize what I am doing, what I have done, and what I have become. I often wonder if some people come to appreciate these things. I hope he will. I think he will.
        I've cried a lot today. I can't say it's out of sadness. That's not the right word. Maybe this is what people mean when they cry out of joy. I don't think they really mean joy though. These tears mean unexplainable beauty, which is a whole mix of terrifying and wonderful emotions. I think for once, just maybe, I am really truly at peace with the fact that D and I have irreconcilable differences. The differences don't conflict with the fact that he can be changed. The differences don't conflict with the fact that he is not a bad person. The differences do not make me want to change things. We are going to be wonderful friends. I can just tell.
-T.

5.24.2011

byeeee :[

        I wrote my favorite seniors some lengthy letters, since tomorrow is their last day of school. I just want to let them know that they will be missed and that they really impacted my life. I am so proud of all of them and I care about them so much. This afternoon I was writing them and I just ended up bawling while listening to some quality crying songs.
        It's so strange to see that the potentiality of losing a friendship, just because of someone moving onto a new stage of life or going far away or whatever reason, really makes me realize the value of that friendship. Before, I really thought that there were only a handful of people I really appreciated fully. Yet, I must have written ten letters or so! After one person read his, he came up to me and told me it was so sweet and so nice of me and gave me a hug. I almost started to cry right then and there. They're not even leaving yet, imagine how it will be tomorrow. I must arm myself with the waterproof mascara!
       This reminds me yet again that life moves so quickly. There were so many people I needed to have more time with. There was so much unfinished business. There were also so many seniors that I meant to talk to and get to know but I never took the chance too. I guess that's what those letter were for. I couldn't leave anything unsaid. I couldn't have them leave without them knowing what they mean to me, and to make sure they keep in touch with me. Everything we've been through together has really shaped me as a person. 
         Once again, words are not enough to describe my mixed feelings of gratitude, regret, appreciation, nostalgia, joy, attachment, and so much more. So many people have touched my life, there is no way for me to show enough how I appreciate that. 
THANK YOU: LE, SC, D, KA, TT, ZJ, SJ, AJ, XK, RA, ZV, WA, & countless others!!
-T.

5.23.2011

sickie.

        Hey sorry I haven't been posting at all recently, though I'm not sure that anyone really cares. I've had a plethora of activities, namely choir concerts, prom, and then deathly illness. I'll come back to prom later, I haven't quite sorted out my feelings on it yet.
        Anyway, I woke up around noon Sunday feeling a bit queasy. My mom yelled at me telling me I needed to leave for Chinese school in half an hour. I begrudgingly began to get ready. Whilst doing so, I ended up throwing up for 5 minutes straight. My mom still made me go though. I got there and just sat in the cafeteria delirious and not doing anything for two hours. I called my mom to tell her to come pick me up because I was feeling pretty bad. She yells at me on the phone for a few more minutes. All these kids around me yelling and annoying Asians chatting all swirling around my head. An hour later and my mom has just left the house. I get up and make my way to the bathroom. Too late I guess, because a few seconds later I retch all over the cafeteria. I retch and retch and retch. Asian ladies around me tweaking out, and little kids screaming and yelling. It was quite a spectacle.
        My mom came for me eventually. I mentioned to her that she was a bit late, seeing as I had already thrown up everywhere. She yelled at me a lot then, saying that I was so selfish for expecting her to come pick me up right away, and then if she had picked me up earlier I would have just thrown up in her car anyway, gosh not the car. I spent the rest of the day simultaneously starving, trying to eat, feeling nauseous, then throwing up. I sweated my sheets through and through and just rolled around in my bed moaning. My parents thought for a while that I was hungover or something, since it was the day after prom. They are going to find some way to penalize me for this, like probably not let me go to prom next year.
        Yes, they will definitely never get off my ass about this, especially since I stayed home from school today. I figured I wouldn't miss anything, since it's Senior Ditch Day and half of the junior class is gone on a field trip anyway. My mom took this opportunity to lecture me about how I'm going to kill my grades by missing school all the time and I must have done this on purpose and planned to miss school and I'm going to start ditching school all the time. Seriously mom STOP. I have not missed a single day of school since seventh fucking grade. I have never even skipped choir class, and that's something that I think very few others in the class can say. I wonder if she will ever realize that I can handle myself, and that I have everything under control. I have never failed myself before, and she just needs to shut up because she stresses me out and kills my self-esteem. Even while I was writhing on my bed and lethargic and throwing up she never said a single caring word. Maybe she does care, but she sure as hell doesn't even try to show it.
-T.

Words.

Recently I have just been wishing that I had a switch on the back of my neck labeled “JUDGMENT.”  Every human experience is an inevitable judgment. As much as we like to think of ourselves as impartial and fair, the brain is an active force. It is simply not possible for it to receive information and not incorporate it into our bank of memories and schemas.

Our brains are complex, but so is everything else. There are very few things in existence that can be fully described with just words. What are words? They are just randomly selected inky lines on a page, or meaningless sound waves from a human throat. It makes me uncomfortable when people around me call others things like “stupid,” “bitch,” “boring,” etc. I’m guilty of this too, and I don’t like it. One cannot possibly capture the essence of a person with simple name calling. How can a few simple syllables describe this person, or even your feelings for this person? Only you know what you feel, but the words don’t contain your meaning. The words contain the meanings of you and him and her and everyone else who has ever used them. Your words will be heard, but they won’t be yours anymore.

That’s why I’m proposing a word revolution of sorts. Stop ascribing so much importance to words. Stop making promises. No more name-calling. No more small talk. Share your skin and share your memories. Don’t trash talk others. It doesn’t mean anything because everyone knows that these words don’t mean these people. If you must, share how you feel. Cry together and laugh together. Our emotions keep us together, not the promises and not the words. The words only wedge us apart because the words are never right. Emotions run deep, and they will never be false. 
-T.

5.16.2011

bukahlolololol

        Taking a new vow in honor of BZ. I'm going to stop telling people my stats and numbers. I don't need people judging me, even if it's for better. I don't want them to see me as numbers. I'm more than that and I don't need people to make snap judgments of me before they bother to get to know me. Originally I told people my stats because I felt I needed to prove myself. I was so sick of people assuming that I'm a dumb slut. Before I even got felt up by anyone, I was told by a very good friend of mine that the common thought around school is that I sleep around. Kay sweet. By letting my scores smear around school I got people to look at me in a different light. Some people still see me as a slacking slut who just gets good scores. For instance, the math team oralist whom I assisted at state admitted to me that she was pleasantly shocked when I actually pulled through and did all and more of what she asked of me. Maybe I am a slut though, I don't know. If any attractive nice smart cute funny boy professed his undying love and commitment for me for a satisfactory period of time, I'd be a slut again for sure.
        Now that I've been the a school slut and I've been an academic pride, I'm satisfied that I have seen as many ends of the spectrum as I will. The former as funny and attention-getting, and the latter feels nice and confidence-boosting,  but it's all just really stupid anyway. I mean, I'm fairly certain that a lot of people know what I got on my tests, but I'm hoping that it'll all quiet down. It might be too late to stop their knowledge of my numbers, but I'm sure there are a lot of people who don't know. 
        BZ didn't have to tell people in the first place because everyone already knew he was amazing and could assume the best anyway. For me, people are going to assume that if I don't feel like telling them, then I got a sucky score. At this point I'm thinking that they can wonder what they want. It doesn't matter. It's not that I'm embarrassed of my scores, or that I feel the need to hide my achievements. I want people to get to know me for me, and not for my numbers. They can know my numbers after they get to know me I guess, but there's always bound to be complication. XK is the same girl who wouldn't speak to me for a week after she found out I had beat her SAT score by 150 or so. This is the same girl who stayed angry with me for a long time because I was voted to an arbitrary leadership position that didn't even matter, while she barely received any votes. There are countless other belittling things she has said about others whom she considers to be lesser people than she is. It's not her fault, she doesn't know any better, but I'd like to see her grow.
        In essence, I'm pulling a BZ because I want to minimize any preconceptions that people might have of me. I don't mind people thinking that I'm smart, I don't mind that at all. It's just that I'd rather have them learn it through intellectual conversation with me, and not with some silly test number. Anyway, those numbers truly mean nothing at this moment. It would be much easier and feel better to surprise people with something amazing and tangible, like acceptance into my dream school, which will have to wait.
-T.

Frequent Thong-Wearer Syndrome

        Not gonna lie. I love thongs. I wear them almost every day, and I find any excuse to do so. They are so nice and so wonderful. They eliminate any worries of VPL (visible panty line) when wearing sweatpants, leggings, jeggings, skinny jeans, skirts, shorts, etc. Not only are they practical, they are pretty too. They give me some kind of extra confidence boost. Back in the day they were for BD mostly, but they're even more for me now. It's just the right amount of daily spice and indulgence.
        My friends complain that they are bothersome, and feel like a disgusting piece of floss in their butt cracks. I beg to differ. These girls are mere thong noobs. I admit, I felt that way at first as well. Now it just feels like nothing at all. My butt feels free and looks awesome.
        Today, however, my aunt flo was in town. I wore jeggings, but I had to wear boyshorts underneath. I felt self-conscious the whole day. I bathroom checked multiple times to make sure I didn't have any VPL. I even had my friend look at my butt for me. The oddest thing was that I could feel the bands of fabric on my buttcheeks and it felt disgusting. It's like the opposite of the noob-thong effect. I have an interesting case of frequent thong-wearer syndrome.
-T.

5.15.2011

this is why i want to go blonde

saw this on my friend's blog

... and thought, oh I've done that before.
It was actually really wonderful. One of the best things ever. 
Until he started freaking out afterwords because he legitimately thought I was a vampire.
-T.

motivations

We are all motivated by different underlying factors. Some of them are so strong that they define much of our personalities and actions.
Here's what I have off the top of my head.
  • my father - pride
  • my mother - appearing sane and popular
  • my sister - feeling grown up
  • JD - perfection
  • XK - feeling smart and sensitive
  • D - shielding himself from emotional pain, sex
  • EG - being faylor swift
  • NS - protecting everybody
  • SC - beauty in every sense of the word. her sense, at least.
The rest I haven't quite figured out yet, including myself.
-T.

P.S. I'm not trying to simplify people! I could never capture a person in a few words, or a novel, or even a library.  Everyone is so complex and wonderful seriously I love it.

Judge me.

Here's a recap of a conversation from last week:
JD: blah blah something about my 7th grade ACT
XK: Oh what did you get?
JD: I don't feel like I should have to tell you.
XK: Well why, just curious.
T: Well I would hope that you are good enough of friends that you wouldn't need to make a judgment on her based on her ACT score.
XK: It's not a judgment, I'm just curious.
JD & T: blah blah something about how it is a judgment because that's human nature, if you know something you are going to judge it.
XK: *angry flustered huffy*


        JD told us her 7th grade ACT score just a bit later, because she honestly didn't care. What mattered was that XK just wouldn't drop it, and insisted that she wasn't going to judge. We tried to explain to her that even though she didn't mean to judge, she would. Human nature automatically processes information by means of judgment. That's just life. It doesn't mean she is a judgmental person just because she makes judgments.
        It was a while ago, and it didn't seem like that was such a big deal. Today I asked XK if she would please contribute something to our group project, since it was a group project and she hadn't been there on the work days. She started going off on a tangent about how she shouldn't put in her own ideas because we were going to shoot down her ideas in front of the class. She said that she hates it when people accuse her of being something she's not. It took me a while to figure out what the hell she was talking about.
        I tried really hard to explain to her that we weren't trying to accuse her of anything. Just because she made a judgment doesn't mean she is a bad person. Freaking everybody makes judgments. She went on to say that maybe JD and I were the judgmental ones, not her. Maybe I should think before I speak because I don't know what others are sensitive about. Okay, I'll admit that oftentimes I am insensitive and not think before I speak. However, this was definitely not one of those times. I was very very deliberate in what I was saying, and tried my best to come off as constructive and not offensive. I guess it didn't work, especially when she went on to accuse us of exactly the thing that she said she hated being accused of. Apparently we were trying to impose our ideas on her. Our idea that people shouldn't need to have labels of their standardized testing scores attached to them is silly.
        She keeps saying that we are going to embarrass her in front of the class when we present our project. Does she really believe that? I asked her if we embarrassed her in front of anyone that day. She admitted no, but embarrassing her for herself was more than enough. XK also says that she won't forget what we did to her that day. We hurt her and imposed our ideas on her. Does she not realize that she hurts me too? I'm hurting because she takes my help the wrong way. Was there anything that I could have said to make it okay? Are some people just like this? I don't give up on people ever because I don't believe that they are just like that. I think that they really do know better and want better for themselves. That notion of mine always gets me into more trouble. With everyone.
        I think it says more about her that she couldn't take criticism than that she tried to make a judgment. She can't see herself objectively, and she can't see herself as being less than wonderful. She is so smart and hardworking, and mad props to her. However, because of that, she is so damn arrogant. She is not mature, yet she thinks she is because of her numbers. She's just naive. I was only trying to help, and I told her so. She said she didn't want my help. Once again, I'm seeing that the most important ideas in life can only be learned through experience. I'm afraid that when she does learn it, it will be from people who aren't so considerate. She's going to meet hoardes of arrogant bitches in college and in life. They're not going to excuse her so easily. They will be infinitely less sensitive to her feelings.
       I told XK that I was sorry. I'm not sorry though. I mean, I am sorry for hurting her feelings. I'm not sorry for saying what I did. I truly considered her to be a very good friend of mine. I guess we're not that great of friends if I can't assert my opinions and not have her get all defensive and attacking. I don't mean to hurt anyone.
        Can people change? Do people change? Do people want to change? I believe that they can and do and will, but maybe that's just because I'm me. If I could be truly insensitive, life would be so easy. People don't know how much they hurt me when they act like this. XK is a wonderful person, but she needs to grow, as do all of us.
-T.
 

daddy issues

 (Ugh i don't know why this post is here this was like 3 posts ago.)

Yesterday night:
T: Hey dad, can you sign this prom permission application?
Dad: Um.. what you're going with D?? WHAT?? *proceeds to throw mantrum*


         His mantrums are terrifying and trapping. He prides himself on being the smartest and most rational person in the world, and occasionally he is. But really he isn't. He doesn't let me explain. It's true that I have changed the prom plans on him a few times. Like, twice. Still, it's not like I did this maliciously or had some grand scheme to try and piss him off, though everything I do seems to anyway. He still tells me that he "knows what game I'm playing." WHAT GAME?? You must be able to decipher my motives even better than I can. I, being both a child and a female, am capable of only malicious deceit and irrationality. He wouldn't even hear anything I wanted to say. "If you say one more word, you are not going at all!!" His mantrums are a purging of everything negative he has ever thought about you, and then a sudden shutdown of communication. My mother tries to help. She wants me to have fun. Yet, both of them tell me every day what a desperate slut I am. I told them that the reason I'm not going with GJ anymore is that he found someone else he wanted to go with. It then became about how aggressive and needy I am for male attention, for guys that never even wanted me in the first place. The moment any boy shows any interest, I lunge at it. Perhaps this is true. Yet, how could I have told them the truth, that I chose D again? I can't tell them anything, but I want to. They can't even handle my mollified version of the truth.
        Maybe I was playing a game. After I told t hem that GJ "found someone else to go with," I said I still wanted to go, except I'd probably go single. I hinted that D wanted to ask me. As expected my father was adamant against it. I could have just gone "single" and then met up with D there. Everything would have been so much easier. But I respected my dad too much, even though he doesn't deserve it. I didn't want it to be some huge surprise if D and I got there, exchanged flowers, and took pictures with each other. 1)It would have only made my dad more upset, and I really do want to try and be open with him as much as possible, 2) I'm afraid my dad would have thrown another mantrum at NS's house if he went there to take pre-prom pictures. His public mantrums are mortifying. He wouldn't think twice about it. I wonder if he has ever felt embarrassed by his previous public mantrums. Doubt it. He thinks too highly of himself.
        A big factor in this is the way I was brought up. I was brought up in the mindset that my only role was obedience. I rarely make my own decisions. I have many thoughts of retaliation and wanting to make my own choices, but I'm used to these futile thoughts. They are just futile. How you were parented ends up being how you parent yourself on your own, as I have mentioned in the past. I am familiar with relationships in which I can't make my own decisions, or if the way to a decision is clearly paved out. That's why I chose the boy who coerced me over the one who truly meant it when he said it was up to me. I readily relinquish my freedom to have peace. After all, it was how I kept my childhood as peaceful as possible, by giving up all control.
        My father tells me to make my own decisions, and that I need to stop allowing myself to be so easy and swayed by others. This is entirely impossible at the moment because 1) I subconsciously enjoy relinquishing my power, 2) even if it were entirely my choice to go with D, it doesn't matter because my dad doesn't want me to make that choice. My dad only thinks he wants me to be independent and make my own choices. In actuality, he wants me to follow his choice. 
        I know the choice I have made, if you can call it that, is stupid. I don't get to go with the group of friends I wanted to. There will be lots of doubt and ambiguity. I have to spend prom in EG's vicinity. I'm putting my heart on the line again, and I am very sure it will be hurt once again. My dad only wants to protect me. I am aware of this. He can't protect me from this because I know full well what I am getting myself into. It doesn't matter how much he warns me or shields me. I know what's going to happen, and I can't keep myself from going there still. While I know I've made a stupid decision, my dad guilting me about it only makes me feel worse. If I'm going to make a stupid decision, I would rather at least not feel like a shitty person about it because of my parents.Whether or not he wants to believe it, D and I are going to prom together. It's going to be alright. I don't ask for your agreement, only your acceptance. Please, let me be okay with myself for once.
-T.
 

UPDATE: I just talked with the daddy-kins. He was super rational and both of us had cooled off. Yesterday was useless angst, and I know things like this will happen again. Still, we had a good talk.

5.14.2011

hurr.

These are my plans for my hair for prom:





....so generally a low, rather simple, side-bun type of thing. I'd like it to be curly and purposefully messy somehow.












However, with my crazy scenester layers, I don't know if my hair would work well completely up, 
so I have a backup:
For the front I really like:
Now no stealing my hair ideas!! :]
-T.

Tips 4 lyfe


It's easy to say this kind of stuff when you're not in this situation. 
Sometimes, I like getting played.
I <3 you, Weylie!
-T.

5.10.2011

Heil



Adolf Hitler and his wife committed suicide by taking cyanide together.
It is morbid that I find this exquisitely beautiful and romantic?
-T.

5.09.2011

GTFO (!)

        I'm recalling a particular time when I was listening to my favorite radio talk show. Loveline is a radio show on which Dr. Drew Pinsky, my idol, answers listeners' difficult questions on relationships, sexuality, and mental health. You guys should all definitely check this show out if you can handle it. In the Chicago area it's on 101.1FM. It's on every Sunday through Thursday night - yes, school nights, it's probably that way on purpose - from 10PM to 12AM. It's a late show, but if you find that you have a bout of insomnia or a day off from school, it's definitely worth the listen.
        A teenage girl called, spilling forth a long, monotonous story about her troubles with her boyfriend. Dr. Drew interrupted her eventually, telling her that it was just over. He explained to her gently that when more mature people are in relationships, they learn to recognize when a relationship just won't work out. Because she was so young and inexperienced, she couldn't just let go of this faltering relationship. She couldn't recognize that it was already over.
        However, I don't think this applies to my situation with D. It used to, back when we were drifting apart in January-February. Now, there really is something that holds us together, and it isn't just our immaturity. I believe there is something to build at least a juvenile relationship on.
        I'm applying this Dr. Drew reference to friendships. I don't quite understand why NS still feels like she needs or wants to deal with EG. EG's fakery is coming out more than ever. I personally cannot stand her, and I'm glad she despises me too. However, even after EG said horrid things to NS and nobody can stand her anymore, NS still continues to be her friend. EG has ruined ZJ. Everyone can see it. I truly believe that EG needs to GTFO, but of course she won't. I don't understand how NS could continue to put up with her. If it were me, I would have rid myself of this failed and fruitless friendship long ago. I highly doubt that NS legitimately enjoys being around EG. EG is just a dumb robot. She has far exceeded her GTFO threshold. Seriously.
-T.

5.08.2011

SOML, OKAY

Creationism??

Moderator: We're here today to debate the hot new topic, evolution versus Intelligent Des---
(Scientist pulls out baseball bat.)

Moderator: Hey, what are you doing?
(Scientist breaks Intelligent Design advocate's kneecap.)

Intelligent Design advocate: YEAAARRRRGGGHHHH! YOU BROKE MY KNEECAP!

Scientist: Perhaps it only appears that I broke your kneecap. Certainly, all the evidence points to the hypothesis I broke your kneecap. For example, your kneecap is broken; it appears to be a fresh wound; and I am holding a baseball bat, which is spattered with your blood. However, a mere preponderance of evidence doesn't mean anything. Perhaps your kneecap was designed that way. Certainly, there are some features of the current situation that are inexplicable according to the "naturalistic" explanation you have just advanced, such as the exact contours of the excruciating pain that you are experiencing right now.

Intelligent Design advocate: AAAAH! THE PAIN!

Scientist: Frankly, I personally find it completely implausible that the random actions of a scientist such as myself could cause pain of this particular kind. I have no precise explanation for why I find this hypothesis implausible --- it just is. Your knee must have been designed that way!

Intelligent Design advocate: YOU BASTARD! YOU KNOW YOU DID IT!

Scientist: I surely do not. How can we know anything for certain? Frankly, I think we should expose people to all points of view. Furthermore, you should really re-examine whether your hypothesis is scientific at all: the breaking of your kneecap happened in the past, so we can't rewind and run it over again, like a laboratory experiment. Even if we could, it wouldn't prove that I broke your kneecap the previous time. Plus, let's not even get into the fact that the entire universe might have just popped into existence right before I said this sentence, with all the evidence of my alleged kneecap-breaking already pre-formed.

Intelligent Design advocate: That's a load of bullshit sophistry! Get me a doctor and a lawyer, not necessarily in that order, and we'll see how that plays in court!

Scientist (turning to audience): And so we see, ladies and gentlemen, when push comes to shove, advocates of Intelligent Design do not actually believe any of the arguments that they profess to believe. When it comes to matters that hit home, they prefer evidence, the scientific method, testable hypotheses, and naturalistic explanations. In fact, they strongly privilege naturalistic explanations over supernatural hocus-pocus or metaphysical wankery. It is only within the reality-distortion field of their ideological crusade that they give credence to the flimsy, ridiculous arguments which we so commonly see on display. I must confess, it kind of felt good, for once, to be the one spouting free-form bullshit; it's so terribly easy and relaxing, compared to marshaling rigorous arguments backed up by empirical evidence. But I fear that if I were to continue, then it would be habit-forming, and bad for my soul. Therefore, I bid you adieu.

 [http://www.epicidiot.com/evo_cre/prove_it.htm]

5.07.2011

thoughts vs. feelings

        I've been thinking about the validity of feelings. You may or may not know that I believe that feelings are all that's real. What I mean by that is that our perceptions are what's real. It doesn't matter what's actually out there. What we hold in our minds is what we perceive to be the real thing. It becomes the real thing. It seems like a pretty simple concept to me, but some people don't understand it. For more clarification, I guess you should read up on Plato or something.
        This isn't just about philosophy. It's about psychology too. The Schachter and Singer two-factor theory of emotion states that emotions aren't just about physical response. Your preconceptions will affect your emotions too. Your beliefs play a big part, and emotions, almost by definition, aren't rational. You don't feel an emotion just because you are supposed to.
        Why is this relevant? It's been sort of bugging me with this whole D nonsense starting up again. I can never be sure if he's using me. In fact, even if he is, I'm fairly certain he doesn't know it. It's been bugging me because if he knew it, he wouldn't tell me. Since even he doesn't know, then there's no way to know at all. Then I got to thinking, does it matter? Why does it matter what his initial creeping motivations were? Maybe he just wanted to try things again with me because I'm hot and he can't stand it. Maybe he wanted to try things again with me because everyone else is pairing up for prom and he feels lonely. Maybe he wanted to try things again with me because he didn't get into his safety school, which was his biggest chance at hope, so he just needed to lean on the only one who cared anymore.
        For now, he thinks he wants to go to prom and all that nonsense because he still loves me. He thinks he only didn't want to go with me before and liked other girls because he was only trying to convince himself that he was better off without me. He feels his thoughts through and through. These are just rationalizations, but I'm not sure that it matters anymore. Who says that just because you rationalized something, it's not true? It's true because you feel it. It's true because you know it. You know that you haven't rationalized even if you didn't. Everyone knows that their feelings are the truth.
-T.

a dash of truth.

everyone's going to die.

        I talked to GJ today since he was SAT subject testing as well. He brought up D, which was a relief. He told me that it was my choice, and I could go with whomever I wanted. Honestly I know that GJ didn't even want to go with me, he just was going to because he felt bad for me. I am not so conflicted anymore. That doesn't mean that I'm sure what I'm doing will be good for me. In fact, I'm almost certain it won't be. 
        I guess I'm going to prom with D. He's been telling me all this stuff... that I'm not even sure I want to get into. It's all so very hard to believe, but I want to believe it so badly. It needs to be understood that I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I was ready to let go of D. I was going to be strong. How was I to prepare myself for him to come back like this? I don't know what I want. There are moments when I know that we will work out. Then there are other moments when I know that we won't ever be together again. At this point, I really am just willing to go with the flow. D scares the shit out of me. Nobody else can manipulate me like he does. Everybody's going to kill me if they find out what's happening between us.
        Who knows, maybe he really is willing to change. Or maybe he's going to flee the moment a reminder goes up that I am not perfect. Only he can throw me around the way he does. 
        If one good thing comes out of this, it'll be that I can wear my 5-inch heels without feeling like I need to slouch. Yes, staying positive. :]
-T.
[ignore the horrid video please.]
jeezus i'm so fucking conflicted

5.04.2011

oh, the irony.

        I think I am going to prom. I'm going with a guy named GJ. He really has always intrigued me, and I have always wanted to get to know him better. I had to proactively and blatantly let him know I wanted to go with him though, or else I don't think he had planned to go to prom at all. He's smart, hilarious, cute, and ambitious. He's just not that tall, I mean, taller than I am, but that's not saying much. Still, he seems to be everything I have been looking for. I wonder how he is going to formally ask me. :] I only started making my moves toward GJ after I decided that D really didn't want to go with me. It's hard to believe that he actually did want to go with me, I'm a little jealous of myself really.
        Right before I was officially aware that GJ was going to ask me, D brought up going to prom as friends. I would have liked to, but he seemed apprehensive, so I told him to think about it. Shortly thereafter, I found out that GJ was going to ask me, so I told D. He was really disappointed, and seemed really sad. I felt incredibly bad, as I was his last hope for prom, and I had to go and let him down again. That night, he called me. He kept me up for hours, telling me he loves me and misses me and that he's incredibly jealous of GJ at the moment. It really wasn't helpful that both of us needed to take the AP Calculus BC exam the very next morning, but whatever. I feel personally responsible for his agony, and it hurts me. I don't know if he is being sincere, but trust me, he believes he is sincere.
        Today I allowed him to drive me home. We stopped in a parking lot by my house. We started to hug goodbye. He wouldn't let go. I couldn't bring myself to either. We talked and kissed. A lot. But these were not the ferociously passionate kisses that we once shared. These were the saddest kisses ever to be made. These were swirled with tears and remembrances and missed chances and miscommunications and everything that had gone wrong between us but didn't have to go wrong. He gazed upon the scars that stain my wrists. He was all the sensitivity I have loved. It frightens me.
        Why did he have to do this now? If he had done this a month ago, maybe even a week ago, I might have taken him back in a heartbeat. This is unfair to GJ, and GJ is something fresh and something I feel I can look into the future for. It's terribly ironic, really. The moment I began to really trust D, he started to fall out of love with me. The moment I felt that I was really moving on and things were looking right and hopeful, he came back and told me that he regrets ever leaving me. I know D's pain. I was there not very long ago at all. It's just too late. We just hold one another and kiss our sad kisses and cry.
-T.

5.02.2011

i could be pretty

        I'm just recently starting to realize how nice my features are. I have nice cheekbones that are defined, but not sharp enough to be bitchy. I have a cute nose that's especially good for an Asian's. My eyebrows are naturally full and defined, so that I only have to pluck like two hairs once a week to keep them perfect. My hair is nice, and I don't have to do much to it to keep it presentable. My lips are pretty and full. Best of all, I have that prized double lid, or lid crease or whatever you want to call it, that Asians often don't have. I get all the nicest features of being Asian, without being too chink-eyed and fleshy-faced.
        There's one thing holding me back though, and that's my skin. Up until 8th grade, I would always get compliments from my friends on it, and I never wore any makeup on it either. Once I got to high school, my skin went berserk. I pretty much became a walking grease monkey. I break out pretty much every day, sometimes more than that. Right now it's pretty bad because of all the stress I've been having. When this happens, I look in the mirror at that familiar tingle, and I get so in denial, and so angry. I wash my face all the time, and I've tried a lot of things to try and help it, but my skin still sucks. I'm also sensitive to most acne medication, it makes me peel and itch and get red and irritated. I just want to hide and not talk to people. BD once told me that I was a 7 out of 10 in the looks department, and the only reason he could think of was my skin. Having clear skin makes up for a plethora of feature problems. When you have bad skin, that's all that you and anyone else will notice. If they happen to notice that you have nice features, they think, oh she could really be pretty once her skin clears up.
        Bad skin looks filthy and dirty and unhealthy. It frustrates me a lot because I try really hard to prevent it, and it's not like it's a part of my features. I really have no control over it. Even if I just sit at home and don't wear makeup for a week because of break or something, I still break out. If I happen to just have one or two pimples at any one time, I feel really good about myself, but I'm always just dreading the next major breakout. Even if my skin gets clear for a while, I have leftover hyper-pigmentation and whiteheads and blackheads and countless other gross things. 
        My mom won't let me see a dermatologist because it's expensive. I know it's caused by hormones too, and so the only thing that would help would be birth control or other hormone-controlling medication. My mom thinks that those kinds of things cause cancer, so not like she would ever let me use them. Keep in mind, this is the same woman who promotes acupuncture and predicts people's blood types by their personalities and loves Chinese witch medicine and Chinese suction therapy and anything else that's pseudo-scientific. She doubts the things that have research backing them, because the research always gives the side effects too. It's too bad nobody can prove anything either way about the things she uses.
        Really though, my skin is the one thing that makes me super insecure. It's the one thing that is universally ugly, and it's the one thing that keeps me from being pretty.
-T.

5.01.2011

obama-llama

[http://www.huffingtonpost.com/]

i wish...

[http://www.thingsaboutlove.com/]

uncertainty.

        D was frantically skyping me and texting me last night. When I finally looked at my phone and replied, he told me that he got rejected from his safety school. He only applied to this school after he found out he got deferred from UIUC. Now if he doesn't get into UIUC (which is not unlikely,) he has nowhere to go. 
        This is particularly frustrating because probably the biggest reason for our split was that he wouldn't do his college apps and I kept freaking out at him about it. JK, not college apps, just singular. One college application. Seriously though, where was his mother? Why was I the only one who tried to make him do it? When he finally did get it done, it was because he absolutely had to lest he not apply at all. He stayed up into the wee hours of the next day doing it. I didn't even get to proofread it, which is bad because he is a sucky writer. When finished, he felt so accomplished and felt like he deserved some big congrats or something. Anyway, a snippet of a months-old dialogue:
D: See, I told you I'd get it done! 
T: Sure, but your essays are probably crap considering you did them in one night
D: So what, they're done. 
T: Yeah but if you don't get in you're going to spend the rest of your life wondering if you could have, if only you had started working on them earlier.
D: Nah.
        Does he remember any of this? I have a feeling he does, but he just can't bring himself to admit it to himself. He knows I was right all along. He knows that I didn't explode at him without good reason. I don't know if this is any consolation to me though. I want him to be happy. Still, he deserves it for not listening to me. I don't know how I should feel. More than anything, I'm worried. He's smart but he didn't use it to his advantage. I still want to see him off to college with his other friends, and it's hard to say that he deserves to get left behind because of his bum-ness. 
        Also, I don't know how I should feel about him always pushing me away, except for when he needed me to console him. I sincerely wonder if there's anyone aside from his family who cares for him more than I do. No matter what happens to him, I want him in my life. A piece of me will always think of him as the sweet guy who took my virginity. I'm dreading the day he forgets me. I don't mind him always coming back to me if he ever needs comfort.
        Sometimes the most we can do is simply learn from our mistakes. I hope he really takes this time to reflect on what he did wrong, but I can't do that for him. He has to do it himself, lest he continue to cheat himself out of things he really could have gotten. Mistakes are good and necessary for growth, but what if some people never grow?
-T.