lundi 4 mai 2009

/wrong place/

12:30 am, May 4th:
It's the wrong
Place and time
To be thinking of
You

/Situations/

Situation number one:
It's the one that's just begun,
But evidently it's too late.
Situation number two:
It's the only chance for you;
It's controlled by denizens of hate.
Situation number three:
It's the one that no one sees;
It's all too often dismissed as fate.
Situation number four:
The one that left you wanting more,
It tantalized you with its bait.

vendredi 1 mai 2009

/full personality in 8 questions/

and on facebook, no less.

You have a need for other people to like and admire you, and yet you tend to be critical of yourself. While you have some personality weaknesses you are generally able to compensate for them. You have considerable unused capacity that you have not turned to your advantage. Disciplined and self-controlled on the outside, you tend to be worrisome and insecure on the inside. At times you have serious doubts as to whether you have made the right decision or done the right thing. You prefer a certain amount of change and variety and become dissatisfied when hemmed in by restrictions and limitations. You also pride yourself as an independent thinker; and do not accept others' statements without satisfactory proof. But you have found it unwise to be too frank in revealing yourself to others. At times you are extroverted, affable, and sociable, while at other times you are introverted, wary, and reserved. Some of your aspirations tend to be rather unrealistic.

/please ignore the next few lines/

Sitting, Waiting, Wishing

Now I was sitting, waiting, wishing
That you believed in superstitions
Then maybe you'd see the signs.
But Lord knows that this world is cruel.
And I ain't the Lord, no I'm just a fool,
Learning loving somebody don't make them love you.

Must I always be waiting waiting on you?
Must I always be playing playing your fool?

I sing ya songs I dance a dance
I gave ya friends all a chance;
Putting up with them wasn't worth never having you.
And maybe you been through this before,
But its my first time
So please ignore
The next few lines cause they're directed at you.

I cant always be waiting waiting on you;
I cant always be playing playing your fool.
I keep playing your part,
But its not my scene.
Wont this plot not twist?
I've had enough mystery.
Keep building me up, then shooting me down.
Well I'm already down,
Just wait a minute...
Just sitting waiting...
Just wait a minute...
Just sitting waiting.

Well, if I was in your position,
I'd put down all my ammunition--
I'd wondered why'd it taken me so long.
But Lord knows that I'm not you,
And If I was I wouldn't be so cruel
Cause waiting on love ain't so easy to do.

jeudi 30 avril 2009

/Mar/

ehhhhhhh. I have no idea what I want to type, I just want to type something. Maybe I should be studying? Maybe I type when I'm stressed. I honestly don't know what my stress defense mechanisms are. I often do not know how to recognize that I'm stressed. I don't think I am. One day this stress will be gone. I was talking to Travis the other day about death and how I think it's one giant, restful nap. God, I wish that was the case; how wonderful it would be to finally be able to nap for as long as you can. Travis thinks it's pointless nothingness since you have no consciousness and, therefore, can't enjoy or even be aware of the fact that you're "resting" or "napping". Is that right? Sometimes I wish I could just take a break from everything. If only there was a day when everything just stops and stands around, in limbo. I think that honestly I only look forward to maybe 2 things at the start of each day:

1) sleeping again
and
2) .....hmm....yeah.

Two things, is that too much? So my birthday was celebrated the other day, with F and P. It was a nice surprise...haha, leave it up to P (and maybe F) to figure out that the best surprise you can get me for my birthday would be well...yeah. Hah. God, I wish I was more materialistic, then I can be just as happy over a pair of shoes. That is to say, I would have more happy moments like that.

I had a stats exam today. Boy, I have never been that unhappy with an exam. Anxiety has never been a major part of my post-exam plan. However, it seems like I have no choice here. Anxiety over things I have no control over. You know, for someone making good grades in that class, I don't think I should be so nervous. Geez. But I am. What can I do?

I have been bouncing back and forth between eating good food and eating blah. By blah, I mean things that either makes me sick afterward, or things that make me wish I was sick because it did not sit well in my stomach. On that note, I tried bubble tea at Chill Bubble Tea last night, while wandering around Franklin St, and I realized that while two different bubble tea shops might both opt for the powdered bubble tea, that does not necessarily mean that both shops' avocado bubble tea will taste the same. Damn was that the worse avocado "shake" I've had. The other shop was Ningyo Bubble Tea, or something. Means mermaid? It's on Hillsborough St, in Raleigh. They were so convincing that I thought they used real avocados for their shake. We saw powder later, but damn was that some good shake. I recommend it. The extra money is worth every drop.

dimanche 19 avril 2009

a and b

a voice: perfect pitch, lovely tone, fitting tempo--a symphony for my soul
a silhouette: soft edge, warm hue, charming--a fleeting touch
a quiver: in anticipation, for you, for proximity
a sigh: for truth, which will remain...
a fact that you and I will never...

b.

lundi 6 avril 2009

Everything comes in pairs

"We were given two hands to hold, two legs to walk, two eyes to see, two ears to listen, but why only one heart? Because the other was given to someone else for us to find."

LOL

It seems my internet etiquette has gotten out of hand. Dear, dear...my lack of expression of tone makes everything complicated. Bah...now this is going to amuse me for the next few days, I assume. Usually, despite my emotions and honesty, I am pretty good with making sure I'm not an ass in reply to another person's blog. My own blog, I might not care, but another's blog I do care. God, I feel like an ass now. However....this has made me want to check for more comments to my posts. It's so rare, those comments. I could be ignoring several different people right now! Think about all those unfinished and possibly interesting conversations...

On a completely random note, I want to try out several different places: Carrboro Farmer's Market, Cliff's Meat Market, The taco stand in this article, some of these places, and 411 West's sister restaurants. I shall also make more of an effort to buy from Weaver St. Market, though this poor college student can't make that guarantee.

How many times will I edit this tonight? Read. it's good. I can only hope to be this beautifully eloquent, but I can't. Bah, I lack the means to express what I feel.

Ahhh...I can't believe I've forgotten to post about this kid: Sungha Jung--fingerstyle guitar rocks. Travis insists that he's not that great, but if he can appreciate rock bands who pull out repetitive arrangements of chords--sometimes in more than one song--then I don't know why he can't appreciate this.

God, I gotta stop thinking so late at night

I can't sleep. So tonight's segment is--unfortunately for those of you who torture yourself with this excuse for a blog--my regrets.

There are quite a few things I am regretting at this moment. I think the biggest one of all is that I couldn't do a better job of being a roommate. You know, I think that will continue to be one of my biggest....not regrets, but....mental obstacle. It's like...I'm not sure how to describe it. It blows my mind to know we're so good with each other while managing to be completely out of tune at the same time. I don't understand why one of us is out looking for a fitting roommate while one of us is constantly adding things to the "omg, I want to pull my hair out sometimes" list. It kills me to know I'm so much better now but I've somehow managed to screw up my first and probably only chance two years ago. Fuck me. Sometimes I think to myself, "Why were you so stupid?!" The stupidity lies both in the fact that I acted like an "iduiot" and the fact that I willingly let them go. Ahhhhhhhhh........Sometimes I wonder if their decision really was as spur-of-the-moment as was conveyed to me, or was the decision more of an "Ahhh...I want to pull my hair out sometimes" thing that was drawn over a longer period of time. Sometimes I wished I had been more selfish and said, "No...I DO care greatly about you not leaving. I DO think that you'd love to stay," instead of spewing all that crap I didn't believe in. You know...the kind that said, "Well, I think that you should move out if that's what you really want," or, "Do whatever makes you happier." Ah. I guess on the other hand, I never really could believe that I would be the happier choice. There was no indication save some rare moments of pure contentment--during those second/third trimesters. Screw all the annoying natures of my personality. Screw it all. It sucks to be lying in a room at night while your current roommate is sexing it up with her significant other and you are on the phone with a sleeping one of yours. On top of that, it sucks to be thinking about how you could've had a better one had you not fudged it all up two years ago.

Well, no use griping about it now. Sometimes I wonder if we're not roommates now because of the more extenuating circumstances currently surrounding my life. If so, I regret that I would never be able to choose between the two. Ahh...who knows. Wondering would only make my nights more agonizingly sleep-deprived.

lundi 30 mars 2009

roomate and her boyfriend

So...even though I'm a pretty mean person, and I'm pretty sure I scare a lot of the people that I interact with (but don't care about) sometimes, I have a problem with being vocal about my negative feelings for them. This usually only applies to habitual actions, 'cause I feel like voicing the same negative thoughts over and over again is nagging, and I hate nagging (received or given). So a lot of things have piled up over the course of these past few months about my roommate and her boyfriend.

1) He's a very messy person and I've roomed with her before (and didn't have a problem) so most of the mess, I think, is his. I observe this after coming back from christmas break, and I confirmed that I was right. His clothes, his tennis bag, his papers and books dominate hers, even though she throws that around, too. Today, I woke up and looked down at the floor, it was HORRENDOUS. I mean, the messed had started to come over to my side of the room. I was grumpy. They left for dinner with her sister, and I kicked their crap over to her side, took a shower and straightened up the crap on the couch ('cause it's the common area, which I use). I straightened up my side as well, since I've been letting the state of my side go for the past few days.

2) I showered, but when I got back I couldn't find my clothes, and then remembered that we (being me and my roommate) washed our (being mine, hers AND his) together and the whites were still together from me having to re-dry them (due to his and her lack of ability to feel that the clothes were damp). Seeing as how my clothes were outnumbered by theirs in the whites department, I proceeded to dig it out in order to get dressed. After spending 10 minutes on that task with fruitless results, I decided that for the SECOND time, I would organize (fold) their clothes in order to rescue mine. He doesn't even wash his own clothes, for God's sakes, at least he can fold it (or even she can, 'cause I frankly don't care).

3) We divided (roommate and I) the dishes and the trash since I hate trash and she hates dishes. Well, I've been washing it whenever the bin gets full or whenever I run out of dishes (I have less than hers, so I run out more quickly). I can't say that she's been doing the same for trash. And after having to take 2 bags of trash out last time, in all fairness, she should be washing the dishes tomorrow. I'm not going to make her do that, though.

4) He eats out food. Plain and simple. He eats over here, which I don't mine, but he doesn't cook, doesn't wash dishes, and he eats A LOT. Worst example was when I left class in a hurry and didn't get to eat expecting to come back to some rice. I knew they'd eat, but we had about 1.5-2 cups left (out of 4 cups total) and somehow, he managed to get so much that I had 1/3 of one of my bowls (which is smaller than the bowl they used) left. Nice. It then went into feeding me and Tracy. Yeah. Ugh. Disgusting and inconsiderate.

5) Recycling is ALWAYS full. They're supposed to take that out when it's full; it goes along with trash duty. Enough said.

6) He takes my water. I have a pack of bottled water that is supposed to last me for two or three weeks. Last time I went through 6 packs of bottled water (24 per pack) 'cause they keep taking bottles of water. They use nalgene bottles, so they refill from the fountain. It's not because they hate fountain water here; they take my water 'cause they were TOO LAZY TO GO TO THE FOUNTAIN DOWN THE HALL. Really? Like, REALLY?

7) He uses my computer. Why? 'Cause for some reason that we have not yet figured out ('cause he's too lazy to go get a ResNET to look at it), his laptop is REALLY slow and takes "too long to start up". Plops down, takes my computer. It's not that much of a problem, but I feel like my privacy is being invaded and I don't appreciate that. I don't appreciate coming back to my computer being out of battery 'cause it was used and then not hibernated afterward. (The plug is on my side of the room, so to use it, he unplugs and takes it over to her bed)

8) She and I are a bit germophobic, and we don't like dirty things, especially on our beds. He comes back from tennis practice sometimes and she forbids him to sit on her bed, so he sits on mine. WTF. WTF, Travis? He doesn't do it every time, though, so that's good. Sometimes, it won't be right after practice, but he still hasn't showered, and he comes in later and sits on my bed, claiming that "he's not sweaty". BAH. Still dirty!

9) When he does sit on my bed, he plops down on anything that's on it, like my comforter, which I don't like people to do. One time, he even sits on it with his socks on! Dirty, smelly socks that left a vague odor after he stood up. Granted we were working on a lab together 'cause we're lab partners, but still...have some decency, man! That same occasion, he was leaning against my pillow, 'cause I let him borrow it since leaning against the wall is a bitch, he farted! FARTED! IT'S MY FUCKING PILLOW, DAMMIT! He laughs it off, saying it's ok. *I* don't even fart on my pillow!

10) When he sits down on my bed oftentimes to tie his shoe ('cause he can use the metal ledge from my bed to prop his foot--understandable), he doesn't care about the fact that his show is stepping on the sheets that are a bit loosely fitted around the side of the mattress. Granted it's not a part that I lie on or breathe, but that's just disgusting. Stacy did the same thing the other day (touch/step on the sheets) when the bottom of her pant legs were wet from the rain. It left damp (DIRTY) marks on the side of my bed, dangerously close to making it on the top surface of my bed. Teh funny part? Later, I hear her yelling at him for letting the pant legs (of the same pair of pants) touch her sheets. How rich. HOW FUCKING RICH.

11) I don't care much about this one anymore since I've stopped caring about being extra quiet when they're sleeping, but oftentimes, they'll walk into the room while I'm sleeping/napping and have no idea what the word "whisper" means. Sad part was I think they were trying to whisper. Not just that, things were dropped down/accidentally dropped to the floor (I think a backpack or papers or something), and music/videos were played (though on low volume). I ended up waking up, a bit grumpy, and they had no idea that my sleep was just rudely disrupted. Fuck everything to hell. I'm a light sleeper, and my roommate was supposed to know that. I think they bank it on the fact that they've come in before and I didn't hear them.

I'm just too angry, and I have stats hw to do. I think this is enough venting for tonight. God, they disgust me as a couple sometimes. I'm not THAT much of a neat freak, but at least I have the decency to think about watching myself for these things. Ugh. Fuck it all to hell.

dimanche 29 mars 2009

Idiot TAs

Most of the time, I find that TAs are well-chosen for their intelligence and sometimes their abilities to teach. In my case, neither of those criteria are met.

For a bio lab report that I turned in and got back recently, I received a less than satisfactory grade where half of the point deductions were actually things I was being stupid on; not proofreading leading to ridiculous words being chosen by spell-check, excluded words that rendered my sentences nonsensical, and misnaming of a piece of equipment used due to a horrible misunderstanding on my part (spectometer used in place of spectrophotometer), and carelessness in not naming and organizing graphs and data.

Aside from those heinous mistakes, I have managed to, apparently, gather up some other minor grammatical errors:
1) "because when the same batch (singular) of chloroplasts was exposed to two different colored lights. --do you see why the "was" had to be changed to a "were" to be grammatically correct? I don't. the verb referred to the ONE batch of chloroplasts we used so one batch--was.

2) "It allowed us to get used to the machine--in order to improve out speed in measurement--because the dark tube, for instance, should not be exposed to light for too long when being measured."--this means that we got used to the machine to improve our quickness so that we wouldn't take too long to measure the dark tube (which lets light in). She put "and" in place of the first -- and turned the second -- into the start of parentheses that went around "because...measured." I....have no idea how that improved my sentence grammatically.

I also gathered up some other mistakes like:
1) declaring the dark tube as the control instead of the clear cellophane tube--for this mistake, my group initially set the clear cellophane as the control to measure how changes in light color affects photosynthesis. Instead of changing the light, we used clear and green cellophanes to wrap two differen tubes. We had a calibration tube also. The TA came over and asked "What's your control?" and we told her. she then proceeded to say "Shouldn't you have ANOTHER control?" eh? "you should also have a dark tube." ah.....ok. WRONG! Apparently, she changed her mind between then and the time she graded the paper--"dark tube not necessary--then clear tube is control" was her comment on my paper.

2) "Should include rate of photosynthesis fo each variable tested." I did include a table (labeled) with green cellophane and clear cellophane rate of photosynthesis data. There was only ONE variable being tested....not sure what "other variables" she was thinking of.

Oddness. I can't believe someone like this is grading my papers and teaching me.

mardi 17 mars 2009

I guess I should apologize first, since this subject gets old. Does loving someone mean never giving up on them? Or does it mean being able to let them go? Never giving up...I wonder if that works. I wonder if it means giving up the pursuit. Does it mean to persist until it's been seen?

I had a dream a few days ago. It was pleasant. It was someone I liked. You know that happened? We've all had sketchy dreams. Did you know what this was? Holding hands, brief hug, etc. It was so pleasant and surprisingly simple--that is to say...innocent. I didn't wake up puzzled or disturbed at myself. Instead, I awoke with a sense of loss, it was sad, it was tragic as it always is to dream about things that will never happen. I felt a slight sense of emptiness, like I should have jumped back into that dream world, bask in the happiness that I can't have in real life. It's been a long time since I've taken a walk around school like that. Makes me want to ask now, but busy schedules and hesitation makes it seem improbable. It's slightly agonizing. Sometimes I wish I was able to do more impressive things, I wish my modes of expression weren't such simple everyday tasks. I want so badly to make them happy, sometimes it's frustrating to not be able to do anything outside of what I already do. Does that make sense? Shouldn't I be able to take charge of the impression I want to leave?

I think every time I try to think about it, the problem seems to be the apparent fact that I want something I simply cannot have.

dimanche 8 mars 2009

August Rush OST

I like the music in there a lot. I think it's my kind of music. Heh....idk what kind that is, but this is part of it. You need an imeem account, I think, to listen to that.

http://www.imeem.com/people/jiVmcAn/playlist/LGKFrSum/august-rush-ost-music-playlist/

"This Time" is good.

I've been sitting watching life pass from the sidelines
Been waiting for a dream to seep in through my blinds
I wondered what might happen if I left this all behind
Would the wind be at my back ? Could I get you off my mind?

"I think people fall in love under the circumstances of the unknown"

That's what I said today while watching August Rush. When I watch movies, I see situations portrayed of people meeting once, not knowing anything about each other, and suddenly they fall in love. In August Rush, for instance, they met once, then never saw each other again. I think what happens...is that you wonders about what would have happened if you were together. Haha...I guess the way I'm explaining it, it's nothing more than curiosity, but I don't believe so. I'm not sure which one causes the other...the love or the curiosity. I mean....you could make an argument for either scenario. You think about it 'cause the curiosity gnaws at you...or the curiosity gnaws at you when you think about it. I don't know. Half the time, I have no idea why I have such unhealthy thoughts. I don't know how to make it go away. You would think it goes away when you're closer, but it's louder then, only louder. Sometimes I just want it to stop...the curiosity gets to be too much. Half the time, I blog about it. It's disconcerting, but it's true. Maybe this is what it's supposed to be. I'm happy, though, always happy. I also would like to have the August Rush soundtrack.