Back in the game

Right now I'm sitting across an apartmate at our dining table in our new on-campus apartment. She's watching some game playthroughs on YouTube w/her headphones on and I'm enjoying a cup of warm milk tea (been so cold lately). It's 3am but we both don't feel like sleeping. Living with 5 other girls, this is really the only time it gets so quiet that I can hear the water from the faucet dripping. I'm not complaining at all. Something funny is always happening with them around and there's never a boring minute, but it's only when most of the noise is gone that I get to really reflect. I look around at our first apartment outside of home -- our neat kitchen and always fully-stocked fridge and pantry, the mess of shoes at the front door, the comfy couch where I've taken many naps before my next class -- and I realize how lucky I am. It's different from my Tenderloin apartment back home, much different. There's no police siren or ambulance going off every half hour, no heartbroken or angry person yelling alone in the middle of the street at this time of night. The water in the shower here doesn't switch from hot to cold in a second. There's a thermostat-controlled heater. We even have a balcony with a beautiful view of the parking lot redwood trees and, from time to time, deer. I'm so lucky to be living here and be able to attend college on a scholarship. But sometimes I get a little ahead of myself, and I get caught up with thinking about what I don't have and I need to remember that this is more than I have ever had before. I trust my roommates with a lot of things and I've had so many good laughs because of them, but sometimes I realize how vastly different we are at times and how things like the quality of your upbringing can affect your decisions and opinions about a lot of different topics. Like I can't help but think "Really?" and just nod when one says her uncle's $1million+ home (of multiple properties) is "not even big", yet at the same time realize she has a salmon diet but is stingy about lesser things and paying back due money (to the point that she will initiate an aggressive debate over some cents). The same private-school-raised roommate would say "see, I never had that kind of opportunity" bitterly when I mentioned that I was part of a local tech company's mentorship program which taught low-income youth from my neighborhood how to begin coding, making me feel like I have to step around land mines and avoid talking about any achievements or programs I've done. And I sound like I'm reprimanding them but I'm also guilty of letting this mentality get to me many times, because I start to talk like I know what they mean, as if things like $3.50 vs $4.00 boba really matter to me in the whole scheme of problems in this world. And I lose a little track of who I really am or who I want to be.. where I come from, and why I'm here. It's not until I'm by myself and get a chance to take a step back and look at the bigger picture that I realize how much more grateful I should be.. That I'm able to get a college education and study what I'm passionate about. That every day I get to wake up in a warm bed and the only immediate worry I have is whether I'll be passing a midterm that week. That I'm given an opportunity that no one in my family, or many others in the world have ever had. This blog post is a reminder for me to not get caught up in the toxicity of those little things and forget my roots, for me to become more of the person I want to be and make the most out of this education that I've been granted.

The reason for all my tears // coming to realize that my mother has a mental illness

I've come to the realization that every time I've ever seriously cried, since as long as I could remember, has had to do with my mother and my relationship with her. Even the times when I cried without her around are directly related to my experience of having her as my mother. I remember when my roommate abruptly came back to the dorm and playfully hit me several times for sending a bad photo of her to a friend, I ended up going to the bathroom to cry because it reminded me so much of how my mother would come back home out of work and without warning come up to me and beat me. I remember when my friends surprised me for my 18th birthday at a friend's apartment on campus, I cried so much because not only was I surprised by how much effort they put into making a nice collage for me but because I realized that until then my birthdays would either be spent alone or end with me leaving my apartment door with tears in my eyes and walking to the Bay Bridge at night to calm down after a bout of yelling from my mother. There was no such thing as having friends from school over at a birthday party, something that I've realized has to do with both her extreme mentality of all-you-need-is-family and messed up idea of protecting me, among other backwards ideologies. I remember during my move-in day for college, I was not left with the words "I'm so proud of you, have a great time" and a warm hug from my mother as other students were. Instead, I left my mother's car in the middle of a street before reaching my dorm with tears in my eyes with the last words from her being "You're easily fooled [by boys]." Part of me knew to dismiss her hurtful words and realize that she was actually yelling at her past self because I myself had never been in any kind of relationship with a guy, but the rest of me came to tears realizing that my mother had once again ruined what was supposed to be a milestone moment in my life. As I grew older I came to realize that she has serious unaddressed anger management issues and deals with her stress destructively by hitting things until they break, the list of which included me, and breaking out in screaming tantrums. When I try to explain to her how unreasonable she is being, she responds stubbornly with a wild look in her eyes, insisting that 1) everyone around her is either crazy or hates her for no reason despite all the work she does for everyone 2) that she must have committed a sin in her past life 3) that I'm rude to her because I'm being badly influenced by (insert name of recently mentioned friend or current institution of education), or all of the above. These have all been the rhetorics she's used since I was in middle school. Being Asian and understanding the stigma of mental illness within Asian cultures, I've also come to realize that she may never seek treatment on her own. Growing up with her, I've had to convince myself that I'm not the crazy one. Some adults just don't realize how powerful and destructive their words can be to children. When you beat a child who has limitless potential and call them dumb, they will take your words as truth and live the rest of their childhood believing that they are dumb, until they have the fortune of running into kind and compassionate friends and adults who convince them otherwise. It was both relieving (to my sanity) and saddening to know that my stepfather, aunts, and grandparents all understand how difficult my mother can be. Whenever I try to point out my mother's flaws (the most recent one being that you shouldn't take your anger out on the customer representative lady on the phone and assume that she knows the other representative at the store who you had a bad experience with), she puts the blame on me and starts putting me down when I try to reason with her that she should be polite, and from there her voice rises with her stress and by the time I realize that logic has escaped her mind she starts taking the burner plate from the stove and slamming it loudly and alarmingly against the stove again and again for about 15 times (i.e. when I'm quiet and stop trying to convince her why she's wrong, at which point I'm also in tears at the sight of her losing all reason) until she retreated to her room to let out a heartbreaking scream and cursed herself for having me as a daughter. Being that there is no place to get peace and quiet in our small studio apartment, I went and sat down next to the fridge at the kitchen and began typing away on here, since--as I mentioned in my last post--it seems that I'm most motivated to write when I am upset.. Just now she came in, as if nothing had ever happened, asking me in her higher-pitched kinder, alarmingly calm voice if I wanted to have chicken pho for dinner. I don't know how much longer I can keep up with this, or when her next outburst will happen. If there's any good that's come out of my relationship with her, it's my goal of getting a college degree and becoming as independent as I can be.. so that I will never have to be like the child who cried very night after she was beaten and wanted to leave but couldn't because the only home she knew was here. The child who was me.

Right now I'm sitting at my desk back home. I'm on winter break right now, but I'll be going back soon in a few days. I haven't updated this blog in a while, but I feel like I really need to write this down. Maybe as a reminder. Seems that I'm most motivated to write whenever I feel upset or feel strongly about something. I was thinking of talking to my friends from college about this but this time I think I'll just keep this to myself.. it's not that I don't trust them. And it wouldn't be the first time I've talked to close friends about my mother. Usually I'm very open to close friends about my family problems.. but I've given it some thought and some part of me feels like they either don't know how to respond or deep down they just don't care. And it's not that they're bad friends.. but I know at least one of them would respond with an "I know how you feel" or "I have it worse" kind of story. So I've decided to keep my problems to myself. Because I'm tired of expecting as much from others as I give. It's selfish thinking but I feel like this is how I can protect myself and become a little more independent.

So the fire escape in my apartment has this sign up on every floor and I can't help but wonder what the point of calling the police is, like are they gonna do a forensic test or...

summertime sadness

It's kinda crazy to know that I'll be graduating from high school next week. The idea that I'll be finished with twelve years of waking up early primary education hasn't really dawned on me yet. I don't have to go to school this week except for graduation rehearsals, so I'm in this weird limbo state where I have absolutely nothing to do after noon. On weekends filled with last minute research papers the one thing I'd keep wishing for was more time, but now I'm suddenly left with so much free time it scares me. After getting out early from rehearsal at 10am and buying milk at Safeway, I headed straight for home and even though I know there are a bunch of little tasks I need to finish like completing my housing app for college and mailing a letter, for some reason, I felt like I didn't have any purpose. And I'm usually home alone so I'm used to solitude but this time around I had this hopeless feeling of emptiness and, though I wasn't physically tired, I just ended up going to sleep until evening. I realize that I tend to get this way a lot as summer approaches, and if I allow myself to, I end up - for lack of better terms - feeling really sad and depressed. (I say feeling because I hate using 'depressed' to describe myself, so I'm trying to mitigate it a little by making it sound like a temporary mood rather than a potential condition, and I also don't want to indirectly belittle anyone who is going through depression.) I'm probably one of the few people I know who don't look forward to summer, and it's because of the really dislikable person I become. After spending weeks in general solitude I end up forming really bitter and cynical thoughts about people who are close to me - people who the better part of me appreciates and would never have a bad thought about - for no rational reason at all. And I'd just end up sleeping over twelve hours every day, and I'd keep feeling tired so I'd sleep more until I'd be even more tired, repeat. Two summers ago, during a time when I could not care less about my future or school, my life would revolve around my computer and whatever MMO game I had found myself addicted to. Every day I would sleep at 5am and wake up at 3 in the afternoon. There was no future to me. I indulged and lived for the present, but you can't even really call it living because I was investing in something virtual, my life on the screen. At the time I hated the person I had become, but now I only have sympathy for the person I was before. I made sure that I'd be so busy these past two years that I wouldn't even have time to allow myself to sink down to that stagnant state where my lack of progress would incur self-hatred, something which fed on my will to live and my will to achieve. Now, as summer approaches, I'm beginning to feel worried about whether I will fall back into that depressing hole again. But then I remember all the crazy achievements I've made in the past two years, and all the great people I've had the luxury of getting to know better - including friends who I didn't think I could appreciate even more - and I know that I'll be fine because this time around I have things I want to accomplish for myself, and goals that I want to see myself fulfilling. I know that this time I'll have people who care about me who support me, but more importantly, I care about myself. I have purpose, and for now that's enough to keep me going.

stuff i bought recently

I finally convinced my mom to go thrifting with me which is kind of a miracle because she really dislikes the notion of being poor that comes with buying secondhand clothing (even though half of our furniture is from Goodwill heh). Another pair of eyes is really better than one when it comes to thrifting especially if it's my mom's because she has something like a sixth sense for flaws and durability of clothes... moms...

There's nothing wrong with finding good, inexpensive clothes that were worn by others before (okay I put back a Buzz Lightyear t-shirt because it had a sweat stain under the armpits that even Goodwill's holy bleach couldn't remove but that's usually not the case!!) and I would wish that some people could get over that thinking.. but that would mean less treasures for me heh..

We were actually on our way to buy coconut juice in San Jose when we stopped en route at the stores. (I've been drinking a can like every day.) The Goodwill at San Mateo is the most organized one I've seen so far. Everything was organized by color and size which saved me a lot of time and trouble.

This top kind of reminds me of a schoolgirl outfit though without the skirt it looks more like a waitress's top hehe. There are cushiony pads underneath the shoulders and I'm guessing they're there to make my shoulders look more sharp so sharp it could puncture the hull of an empire class Fire Nation battle ship, leaving thousands to drown at sea because.. it's so sharp.

Not really sure what to wear it with but it looks fine without a skirt too.

This silk blouse is a little big on me so I needa wear something over it to avoid looking like I forgot to change out of the other half of my pajamas. Really like the emblem-like print. I feel like some preppy kid wearing this lol.

I got this summer dress at Ross for 8 dollawrz... I thought the pattern was so cool, kinda like a Persian carpet. 

I'm really bad at this description thing. I swear there is a valley girl trapped inside me because I can't seem to stop starting every sentence in my mind with, "I totally had to get it because so-and-so-reason and it's really cool because I get to use it to wipe my ass later wait wut." Anyway, I'm not actually a crazy fan of the nerd Domo which is my least favorite version of him, but this USB hub looked pretty practical and looks like a decent conversation starter (a requirement I always ask myself before buying things that aren't clothes/shoes... no, even then it occasionally applies.) My mom is part of this rewards program at Best Buy so she gets this $10 coupon to use at the store.. Maybe I should've gotten a bunch of gum instead.. 

Then I find out the 2.0 on the back of the box means it's not compatible with my iPod cable and I have no idea what else I could use it for so now it just sits there all day mocking me ... fk.

My mom found this shirt when we were at Goodwill and said it was cute so I should add it to the basket. I fervently agreed with her recommendation because it's absolutely relatable and appropriate given the people I've had the misfortune of meeting during my life... Of course, she wouldn't have suggested it had she known what the words meant heheh...

Thrifting

My phone does this thing where it autocorrects 'thrifting' into 'thrusting' so my friend was understandably confused when I asked her if she wanted to go thrusting with me.

I've been wanting to go thrifting again for a while now, especially since I loved my last thrift finds. However, I keep giving myself a reason to stay home on weekends and the thought of clothes shopping alone is a bit terrifying for me. I finally grew some balls got some motivation to thrift when I watched clothesencounters's thrifting videos on YouTube. (Jenn is so pretty!) She must either have a talent for this or she's just really lucky to have a Goodwill supplied by trendy donors @_@ Conveniently, everyone happened to be busy today (tf could you be busy doing on a Saturday... bitches) so I just went alone. Mind you, besides not bringing more money I have no regrets.

Goodness in Goodwill

I don't even understand why or how anyone would want to part with these lovely clothes. I was determined to spend no more than $25 (all I brought with me) so it was an internal battle with my desires and frugalness when I stumbled upon all these abandoned treasures.. They were all so cheap too! :'( *my first world woes*

Top-right dress was so cute but too big and small at the same time so it kept slipping down and it was so unreasonably tight and unstretchable at a tiny circumference under my chest (panicked and contemplated on asking the staff lady for help getting out of it when I got stuck in an awkward position) so I thought it'd be more work than it's worth. 

My original intention was to find myself a cheap kiddy watch so I could keep track of time while taking the SAT and totally not because of a personal fashion choice or anything. However, I ended up leaving with two dresses (one is the gorgeous rose print dress on the lower left).

Edit: I ended up going back with more money... I'm a hoarder in-the-making! T__T

Classy used tissue is classy.

This neutral brown petite Ann Taylor Loft dress isn't something I'd usually wear.. but then again, what I usually wear isn't what I usually want to wear. At school I'm usually in a hoodie/thick jacket and skinny jeans (or a skirt on rare occasions) because I feel no need to pretty myself up much when I'm just trying to learn about the Holocaust or trigonometric identities... I save dat for the young weekendz. I thought this dress was so sophisticated (wtf Elle tryna be a fashionista doing fashionista talk) and I love pleats in skirts/dresses so I had to get it despite the price which hindered me from buying more lovely clothes on my first pilgrimage to Goodwill. 

This dress received the mother approval because it's the first one I own where I don't look like a 'con đĩ' (whore) wearing it. Until this thrifting trip I had only two black dresses which I would save for special events (nonexistent with my social life). 'Pretty slutty' would be an understatement for one of them; if I bent down the slightest I would risk mooning someone unintentionally and the revealing back made me feel like a languidly wrapped mummy. The dress was a gift from a girl who wanted me to wear it to a New Year's telly (which I would later learn was a hotel party where I ended up being surrounded with a bunch of strangers all older than me - girls in tacky bunny lingerie, dudes getting high on the balcony, wasted guy taking a piss in the bathroom with 10 other people in the same room including myself). Needless to say, that was the last time I ever wore it... but I digress *u*

This floral print dress fit me perfectly. Again, I don't understand how people can part with clothes like these.. The rose print is gorgeous and the colors are so vibrant; it's like a work of art I could hang on my wall. This is a change from my other monochrome dresses. The dress wraps around me perfectly without suffocating me. I also love that there are little straps so I don't have to worry about unintentionally giving people the idea that I want my jerry beads. Another plus is that it has pockets!! *O* Pocketsssssssss. For $7.49 I can't believe how lucky I am to be the one to bring it home. 

I always wanted a denim jacket (I want everything lol T_T) and this one was super warm! Inside the jacket is an unattractive knit layer of pink, orange, and white (atrocious colors to combine) stripes that kind of ruins the subtle badassness that comes with wearing a denim jacket, but it helps keep me warm and at the price of $8 I can't be one to complain.

Look at those spines!!

I didn't expect to leave with books of all things, but this Goodwill had such a huge collection of vintage  hardcovers. I could've spent days going through books written by Charles Dickens, books on algebra and self-teaching mathematics (which were actually interesting ok!!!), and a plethora of other books on neat subjects like law vs. morals. Even at the cost of $5.49/book, I didn't feel like I was ripped off because these are vintage!! VINTAGEEEE D8 Owning a vintage book makes me feel like I've been passed down a valuable possession or am the keeper of a century-long secret. (I sound senile) @_@ 

Thinking Special Topics in Calamity Physics was a purely academic book I just shoved it into my basket. The table of contents also fooled me, but according to its wiki page the ToC is actually 'written in the style of the syllabus for an English Literature course and includes references as footnote'. Neaaaat. I also love that the protagonist is a female; I'm not sure how this preference came to be but it may have something to do with being able to relate more with the character or just the fact that until The Hunger Games I've been deprived of good stories involving a protagonist with a vagina for once.

Cure for a bad case of edumacation.

High School Self Taught immediately caught my attention with its regal spine. The whole idea of learning at least four years of high school from a single book was funny to me and so it was kind of fitting that I bought it because I don't really learn much at my high school anyway. The book gives a basic overview of the fundamentals in a bunch of subjects like physiology, sociology, mathematics, and even beginner French. There's something about the font that I really like (font fetish) as well as the brown tint at the edge of the pages that form a kind of vignette from aging. 

I spent a total of about $38, seems like a hefty cost but I'm really content with all my finds. The great thing about Goodwill (aside from the thrill of never knowing what you may find) is the fact that it's tax-free! Plus, knowing that your money goes directly to charity to help provide jobs and job trainings for people in need is always a good feeling. I'm such a cheap samaritan. 

As I'm finishing this blog post I have the temptation to go back and scavenge for more treasures.. Must resist becoming a hoarder... *__*