I love lists

Some thoughts and concerns over the past week:

1. I've steadily sabotaged my Morphology class, and my life, one minute at a time. Doing anything but studying even though it was what I needed the most.

2. Today I ate through most of a salad without dressing because I hadn't noticed that the dressing packet was hidden in the middle of the bowl. There were less than ten leaves left when I realized. I felt stupid.

3. Eugene told me that Korean-made Shin ramen is much spicier than Hong Kong-made Shin ramen. I found one at the supermarket and am cooking it as I type ("cook" being a loose term). Just opening the packet of spices and inhaling its contents has made me scared, but sort of excited.

4. I need to get better at Frisbee! Today's practice was pathetic on my part. They have this rule where you must pass to a girl before you can score, and as far as I'm concerned, it's valid because I suck! I dropped so many discs! I want to make that rule irrelevant, because I'll be able to catch and play that shit when it counts. Grr.

I guess they actually study here

In Hong Kong, not going to weekend social activities because "I need to study" is a perfectly valid excuse. They say "oh," nod in understanding, and let it be.

I am not a good person 2

During the summers before eighth and ninth grade, I attended what we affectionately called "nerd camp." It was a three-week camp of intensive college-level courses, with class in the morning, afternoon, and evening, 3000 miles away from home (for me). It was an amazing experience that changed my life for the better.

For lodging, we were placed in dormitory rooms with someone from our class. My roommate the second time around, Meg, was noticeably different from the rest of us. She was fat when no one else was, clingy, and very much lacking in social skills; I asked everyone to write in and sign a little notebook I'd bought--you know--yearbook-type messages, and she wrote "I'm sorry, I really can't think of anything to say..." People were friendly at first but gave up and moved on very quickly.

One day in class, the professor asked us to pair up. It was something like--she would point to a person, and someone else would volunteer to pair up with said person. When she pointed to Meg, no one raised their hand or spoke up. The professor then asked her who she'd prefer to be her partner, but Meg remained silent and shifted in her chair. It was awkward. The whole time I was hoping that she wouldn't choose me. I was stuck with her all the time! This time I wanted to work with someone cool!

I took a quick glance at a boy I liked, and it was clear that he didn't want to be her partner either. This made it okay for me to do this horrible thing:

The professor, not wanting to waste time, asked Meg who her roommate was. It was an easy way to solve the problem. Immediately, the other voices piped up. Me, me, the roommate was me, of course. Meg looked relieved, and I scrunched up my face--an ugh face--short and gone from my face in less than a second, but a clear message to anyone looking at me, which was everyone. I am sure Meg saw it too.

*her real name is not Meg, but it doesn't really matter.

I've lost count

(of how many failed journal attempts I've had)

I need to write more.
I'm going to start an offline daily journal again, maybe put the good ones up.
Wish me luck!

Streetlight people

I was out eating dinner with a big group when Don't Stop Believin' by Journey started playing in the background. You could pick out the four Americans by the way they started softly singing along.

Hong Kong needs more sky

I was at an international students meet-and-greet party when I ended up talking to a Hongkonger boy. We went through the usual pleasantries, and he asked me how I liked Hong Kong. I said my normal answer: Yeah, it's pretty great, I like it here. He looked at me thoughtfully and--I can't remember exactly what he said in Cantonese--but it was something like, "Do you feel that there's kind of no sky here?" It sounded very poetic to me, caught me off guard, and I wasn't sure if I had understood. Perhaps he was talking about the thick cloud of pollution that always hung overhead here? "I mean," he continued, "there are so many tall buildings here that they block out the sky. Don't you think so?" He then said that he had lived in Hong Kong his entire life so far, but it wasn't a place he would want to stay. I was surprised--yes, with all these towering skyscrapers here there is no great expanses of  sky--but I sort of just took it as it was. I wondered if it was suffocating, living under concrete, bricks, and windows. He thought so.