If anyone would like to save my ass and take a look at my Statement of Purpose before I finally submit it, please contact me ASAP! I can be reached through AIM: jailbaitjello, or through email: shetan83 at yahoo dot com. Thanks!

So, I was watching random Bleach episodes...

And omg, Rukia's zanpakutou is so pretty... both in blade form and in spirit form. I especially like her Some no Mai - Tsukishiro. It's really pretty... Although based on the form that her zanpakutou takes, I think the sword's theme song should be more... Japanese sounding, rather than having the violin.

Also, Rukia vs Sode no Shirayuki was pretty much just the saddest thing evarrrr. T_T

My filly won the third leg of the Triple Tiara!!! I'm so happy!! 5 months of planning!

And none of you have any idea of what I'm talking about...

http://www.trackking.org/

If any of you guys ever play, my username on it is shetan83. =)

OMGGGGG I FINISHED ITTTT AAAH!!! AAHH!!!!

I've been up for nearly 24 hours now. I think I've deserved the right to pass out in my bed.

OMGGGG OMGGGG ITS DONEEE, OMGGGGG!!!

Omg, I finally listened to this album that I've had sitting on my HD for a few months... It's just what I needed to be inspired and get down on this essay! Oh my god... it's insanely good hip-hop political commentary, but the music is surprisingly good too! It reminds of me Nujabes..

Download it here:
http://colinresponse.wordpress.com/senbei-presents-aas-550-the-mixedtape/

Haha, sometimes... the thing that you need comes along when you least expect it...

Poll:
If I were to go to grad school, where do you see me going?

1) Education:
Something along the lines of higher education or student development and affairs. Rationale: although there's hella Asian Americans in higher ed, there's not that many in higher ed administration... and multicultural affairs is also something that is probably necessary at every college now.
or
2) Psychology:
Because Asian American mental health issues aren't addressed... even though we certainly have mental health issues. There's not enough culturally competent psychologists and therapists out there for the Asian American community, and there's a stigma surrounding mental health in the Asian community that needs to be addressed.
or
School counseling. I guess this kind of relates to education... Anyway, working with students and their mental health concerns. Or maybe working with low-income youth who usually don't have access to these types of services even though they need it.
or
3) Law
Apparently, a lot of people think that I'm suited to be a lawyer. Rationale: as Asians are the fastest growing ethnicity in America, our civil rights issues and other issues regarding the law are going to be much more important, and the Asian American community needs more lawyers to be representing our interests.

So anyway, what do you all think?

I think I've always wondered how far I could push you. I wanted to know at what point you would draw the line. Maybe this is the line, and I wonder what I've done.

Yet somehow though, I think this was inevitable. So in a sense, I hope that this really is the culminating point, because that would mean that one way or another, we can get over it and move on. One way or another.

Maybe it's the rainy day... but for some reason, it struck me today that it really seems like we're going off on our different paths. What Victor said in his blog really resonated with me: "As we get older and start heading out in our own directions though, I'm getting more and more adjusted to the idea that we'll just have each other at a distance while we live our own lives."

Haha, well, it seems like I should have accepted this, yet sometimes, it seems like I can't quite accept it.

We'll see how the next year goes. And the years after that. Yet somehow, it's a little difficult to imagine us all grown up. As much as I'd like to hope that we'll still all be together in the years ahead, I wonder if we still will be.

Then again, I had these doubts in the last year of high school as well. And the past few years have turned out pretty well. So I'll take another leap of faith, and hope that our friendships stay strong, no matter where we as individuals end up going.

( Flashback )

--------

It's been nearly three years since I wrote that blog post. I find that a lot of those internal conflicts are still there within me, but maybe it's because I've grown up, or maybe because I'm more numb, but I'm not as desperate to find solutions to those questions anymore. Or maybe you can say less motivated?

I think some things have changed in terms of me not thinking of my mother's needs AS MUCH AS my own anymore. It's not healthy, and it probably never was healthy to begin with. Yes, it sounds selfish, but I rationalize this to myself by saying that a little selfishness is necessary sometimes, as long as one is giving and selfless in other ways.

Nearly twenty now. Just like three years ago, I can't even begin to fathom the future. Yes, the future is daunting, just as anything unknown is daunting. But I guess I remembered something from my college education, because I still remember my mentor's words that "fear is a mile high and a mile wide, but only as thick as a sheet of paper." So sometimes, the only way to break that fear is to break through, and venture into that daunting unknown.

The idea that neither my mother nor I have a permanent home to call ours is still kinda vexing, but less vexing than it was in the past. I attribute that to college too, and realizing that my definition of "home" isn't a physical location any more, but where I feel like I have my personal and mental sanctuary. Therefore, currently, it doesn't really exist. But that's okay. My story is just another story to add to the grand Asian American Narrative, just another story reflecting the theme of displacement. I believe that I'll find a home someday, even though right now I have no idea who or where that home might be.

I don't think I'm resigned to life or anything like that. But at the same time, I wondered why I seemed so desperate in those days. Where did that desperation come from? And why don't I have that anymore?

Annie, I remember you telling me that I think way too much about my age, and that such thinking just holds me back. It's the same now, because I'm thinking about finding a job/internship, and one of the fears that I have is that nobody is going to take me seriously because of my age. I kept wondering why I was so hung up on my age.

Then I reread a conversation I had not too long ago, where one of my friends asked me what I was like in sixth grade, and I told her that from fifth to seventh grade, I would get bullied daily because of my age. When I was telling her, honestly I was kind of surprised to talk about it, because it seemed like such a long time ago... Back then, I went to a private school... and there were lots of bullies who wouldn't think twice of using my age against me. For three years, every day I'd hear some variation of "go back to kindergarten, little girl" or something like that. It didn't matter how smart I was, or how qualified I was to be there. Actually, the fact that I was as good in school as the other kids, if not much better, probably made the bullying worse. And I just couldn't get over it, that for some reason I couldn't find acceptance, no matter how qualified I was to be there. I was actually pretty depressed during those years. At one point, I kind of gave up making friends, and just buried my nose in books whenever we had break time during school. Books were nicer than people.

I think I kind of forgot about how much of a phobia I used to have about my age, because during college, my being younger did nothing but raise admiration. I guess it got to the point where subconsciously, I still had a complex about my age, but I'd kind of forgotten the reason why. For so many years, I'd always carried this feeling that my age was a weakness, not a strength. Maybe I still carry the old fear that no matter how qualified I am to be somewhere, I won't be accepted or taken seriously because of my age. Even though my experiences at college, and the respect that I earned there, should have made me realize that those bullies were a thing of the past.

So, how do I tell the 8-year-old in me that it's alright now? How do I make her believe that people won't judge me for something that I have no power to change?

That's the second internship that I really wanted that just didn't happen...

You know what sucks. A rejection that comes with a "you almost got it, but sorry we took someone else." Sometimes, I think it might be worse than just not getting anything at all.

So this is a continuation of my thoughts and comment while reading Ruby's post:

I think with the succession of Jess, Annie, and Steven leaving, all of a sudden, I really want to pack up and go somewhere too. Mom is going to China in a few weeks. Pretty soon... the summer is going to be over and everyone will be back at school. I wonder what I will be doing.

I've been thinking about going to Europe a lot recently. Probably spurred by Annie and Steven's trips. And Jess's too, in a way. All of a sudden, I started dreaming about what it might be like if I were to do something like.... apply for a Fulbright fellowship to carry out a research proposal in Europe. A year in Europe. It'd be like the study abroad experience that I wish I could have had. I even have the beginning ideas of a research proposal that I can imagine myself carrying out... or certainly studying about in Europe...

Ah wells. One can dream. Maybe it'll become a reality, who knows? Then again... this is Fulbright we're talking about. THE Fulbright Fellowship. Hah.

But hey, might as well dream big, right?

Still, I have the suspicion that this dream is born out of some sort of... complex. Like... a complex that is the result of a combination of wanting that missed study abroad experience (what if??), of seeing friends leave (rather than being the one that's leaving), of being the one that's... waiting for something to happen. I hate waiting.

So maybe this is my attempt to get the ball of my life rolling again.

It's strange. A few weeks before graduation, I kept thinking that I'd be glad to be going home at last. Now... I guess I'm starting to feel that old wanderlust again. Just a little bit. Heh, have my cake and eat it, huh? Guess that's just the way I am...

So recently I've gotten addicted to this game called Track King. It's a stable management game, where you act as the stable manager and choose what races to enter your horses, what jockeys to hire and put on your horses, how you want to train your horses, whether you want to breed them, etc. It's quite fun to watch my stable expand and build my financial base.

http://www.trackking.org/home.php

Putting it here in case anyone is interested. My username on there is shetan83. If you put that in as the code when it asks you for it, you get an extra week of Owner's Club benefits. And if you have any questions on how to play, I can help you out, lol. Even though I've only been playing for two weeks. But I've moved up to 7th place in my league, and I think I have a pretty good handle of things. =D

So while going to the supermarket to get some groceries today, some white guy in a really beat up car yelled out the window at my mom and me, "WHITE POWER!"

... Go fuck yourself, you little dick. And while you're at it, go get a job so you can fix your car.

My mom didn't even realize what he'd shouted until I explained it to her that he was yelling about white supremacy. I guess in a way, that's good, because it means that there might have been other incidents of racism that she wasn't affected by because she couldn't understand what they were saying. Still, what the hell gives those little pricks the idea that they're any fucking better than anyone else?

I know that I've said before, when it comes to institutionalized racism vs. incidents of personal racism (such as the one above), I think institutionalized racism is in the long-term much more damaging than a passing insult thrown out the window of a shitty car. But that doesn't mean that those little insults aren't annoying. Or anger-inducing.

I also didn't quite expect that in Arcadia. Well, I mean... I expect it anywhere in America, but less in some places than others. But I guess that because this town is getting progressively more Asian, some white people just aren't that comfortable with that, and either do their white flight thing, or stick around if they can't afford to move out and shout insults out their car windows.

And people say racism isn't a problem anymore. Pfft, please.

Aside from the job search, and my computer dying, I've been reading "Sister Outsider: Essay and Speeches by Audre Lorde". Wow, I really love her writing. It's like poetry and theory all in one. And it just makes so much sense to me. I'll post a little bit about some of the things that stood out from her essays. Bolding is mine.

In the first essay, she talks about her trip to Russia (in the 70s), and just the way she describes everything, from the Russian landscape to her interactions with the Russian people.... I dunno how to say anything about it except that reading her essay is like taking a cool drink of water. It's... refreshing.

The second essay is called "Poetry is not a luxury." Lorde writes that "Poetry is not a luxury. It is a vital necessity for our existence. It forms the quality of the light within which we predicate our hopes and dreams toward survival and change, first made into language, then into idea, then into more tangible action. Poetry is the way we help give name to the nameless so it can be thought. The farthest horizons of our hopes and fears are cobbled by our poems, carved from the rock experiences of our daily lives." She continues on to write, "The white fathers told us, 'I think, therefore, I am' and the black mother within each of us – the poet – whispers in our dreams, I feel, therefore I can be free. Poetry coins the language to express and chart this revolutionary demand, the implementation of that freedom."
I think this sums up what poetry is to me, why writing is so important to me. To me, it is a search for freedom, to at least say on paper the things that I'm afraid to say out loud. Poetry brings me one step closer to freedom from my silences. And poetry makes me feel human. To feel human is so precious, when so often, our worlds around us dehumanize us. Oppression dehumanizes, whatever the source. I feel dehumanized whenever I am told that my experiences as a woman of color are not legitimate, and I feel dehumized whenever my mother tells me to act, or fake, or hide an emotion. My emotions are mine. My emotions are human. And if it comes to poetry being the only outlet I have for my emotion, then you better believe that poetry is a necessity to my breathing and living.
Lorde writes, "If what we need to dream, to move our spirits most deeply and directly toward and through promise, is discounted as a luxury, then we give up the core - the fountain - of our power,...we give up the future of our worlds."

The next essay is called "The Transformation of Silence into Language and Action," and it pretty much crystalizes why I feel the need to break my silence on so many things, why I'm so "free with my words" as some people have said of me. After her battle with cancer, Lorde writes, "In becoming forcibly and essentially aware of my mortality, and of what I wished and wanted for my life, however short it might be, priorities and omissions became strongly etched in a merciless light, and what I most regretted were my silences. Of what had I ever been afraid? To question or to speak as I believed could have meant pain, or death. But we all hurt in so many different ways, all the time, and pain will either change or end. Death, on the other hand, is the final silence. And that might be coming quickly, now, without regard for whether I had ever spoken what I needed to be said, or had only betrayed myself into small silences, while I planned someday to speak, or waited for someone else's words... I was going to die, if not sooner then later, whether or not I had ever spoken myself. My silences had not protected me. Your silence will not protect you." If my silence cannot protect me, then I will break it so that it has no hold over me, because as Lorde writes, "What are the words you do not yet have? What do you need to say? What are the tyrannies you swallow day by day and attempt to make your own, until you will sicken and die of them, still in silence?"
And yes, breaking silence is hard. Hard is probably an understatement. Of the fear, Lorde writes, "And it is never without fear - of visibility, of the harsh light of scrutiny and perhapds judgment, of pain, or death. But we have lived through all of those already, in silence, except death. And I remind myself all the time now that if I were to have been born mute, or had maintained an oath of silence my whole life long for safety, I would still have suffered, and I would still die. It is very good for establishing perspective."

So that's what I've read so far. I'm excited for the rest of the essays that I'm going to be reading.

Graduated from college yesterday. It was a lovely ceremony, despite the BOILING HOT weather. The President of Ireland was our commencement speaker, and she was FABULOUS. The princess from Saudi Arabia was quite good too.

I'm back in LA. It only took three hours to unpack the last three years of my life.

I haven't really begun to process it yet. I'm not sure that I want to. I think I need some time to not think about it, so that maybe I can view it with some detachment. We'll see. Maybe I'll post later about it.

Thank you to all my friends who were watching it live online. It meant a lot to me.

Stoling Ceremony was today. I will have pictures later, and perhaps a video, but yes, it was amazing. Absolutely amazing. I am so glad that I got to participate in such a beautiful ceremony, one that I have been looking forward to since I heard about it last year. It was every bit as good as I expected it would be. I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to express my gratitude to my mentor, and to express my thanks for many of the other people who have had an influence on my personal growth over the past few years.

On Sunday, I will walk in cap, gown, and hood, and I will wear my kente sash with all the pride that I have.

I feel like I'm so paranoid these days. About this week. And the days following after that.

I've been telling myself that I'm not afraid. That what I was having trouble with was the letting go part, and not what's coming ahead.

Maybe I've been lying to myself.

I think what I'm scared of is that I'm gonna go out there, and people won't take me seriously. Maybe it's because I'm not quite sure that I've taken myself seriously yet either. A part of me is afraid that I'm not ready yet.

I graduate in exactly one week.

It's hard to believe... but whether or not I believe it, it's gonna happen.

I've started applying for jobs too. That also feels quite surreal. And it feels like I'm lying to people too, haha. Not to say that I'm like... lying about my skills or qualifications or anything like that. More like... it's hard to believe that I am actually a person who does have all those skills... so basically, in applying for jobs, I am asking for people to believe in an image of me that I haven't actually believed in myself.

It seems as if the theme of these weeks is all about believing...