Love and splendor

I read an article from Psychology Today that explained why procrastinators procrastinate. I realized that I'm an "avoider": one "who may be avoiding fear of failure or even fear of success, but in either case is very concerned with what others think of them; they would rather have others think they lack effort than ability." It's so true, though. Three things I fear the most are pitch-dark darkness, heights, and failure. Fear of failure is exactly why when I dream of my future, I just can't seem to think in somewhat realistic terms; I only dream of my future self as being a career-driven, successful person because I don't want to picture myself as being a mere salesperson or a housewife (definitely not a housewife). I feel like my biggest goal in life is to succeed. Well, my definition of "succeeding" is very general though. To me, earning a fairly high salary equals success at life. So whether I'm a human resources manager, a hotel manager, a journalist, an entrepreneur, a wedding planner, or whatever I want to pursue when I'm older, as long as I make $$, I'm satisfied.

The "wedding planner" bit brings me to my next point that ties in with my "procrastination" intro. Recently, I don't even know how, but I came across this wedding coordinator's blog. Her blog is basically composed of pictures of her clients' weddings and I was just blown away by the happiness of the pictures. And seriously, the girl's got talent; she is creative and whimsical and ahh! I just love weddings! And the photography is so beautiful, I'm always so awed by all the details and colors. And I'm not going to lie: I'm pretty sure I spent more than an hour on her wordpress just looking at all the photos of her weddings and such. Just look at them. I mean, WOW. I LOVE WEDDINGS. I can't wait until we're all grown up and I'm invited to my friends' beautiful weddings. I really can't wait.

Photography taken from Love and Splendor.

Now I want to become a wedding planner...

But on another more "present" note:

I submitted my UC applications yesterday and it felt pretty good. I just like knowing the fact that I'm progressing and getting things turned in. The list of colleges I'm applying to (and don't you dare be like someone I know and be like, "Why would you even apply to that school..."):

Syracuse University

Boston University

Northeastern University

The George Washington University

Villanova University

Southern Methodist University

Seattle University

Pepperdine University

UC Irvine

UC Santa Barbara

CSU Long Beach

I feel like my list of colleges that I applied to aren't really "reach" schools, but I'm okay with that? I kind of feel like I'm not applying to "reach" schools because like I said, I hate failure... And being rejected to schools = ouch. I don't want to waste money on colleges that would reject me. So my list satisfies me.

I seriously cannot wait until it's mid-April. By then, I'd know where I am going probably, and that'll put such weight off of my shoulders. I'll be able to totally play afterwards. I CAN'T WAIT.

gray skies

Haven't seen you since that summer before I started high school, has it been that long? Saw pictures of you from a year ago; you looked completely different: thin, frail, the whiteness of your hair, your liverspots more prominent. I really, really miss you.

When Mom and Dad flew to Korea last week to see you, they told me you were doing better. Because they didn't want the two kids who were home alone to weep by themselves and wouldn't the situation just have devastated them both? So they told us stories about how much fun Korea was-- I actually was jealous of them being in Korea, but also happy that they were having a break that they deserved-- and we just resumed our lives as if you were perfectly fine now. What a miracle! All that praying that I did the night Mom and Dad flew paid off! God. Finally. Listened. To. Me.

Only Saturday, October 10th came around. Felt pretty okay with how I did on the SAT's (at least I hope I did okay). Came home, took a long long long nap. Woke up, Mom wanted to make dumplings. So she explains how dumplings were your favorite food ever, and I'm thinking, "That's nice. I should cook it for him when I visit Korea next summer." Then she nonchalantly says to my brother and me, "Since your grandpa died..." and the rest of her words, I don't recall. I just quickly snapped and asked "What? So he died.. but he came back to life??" And then I understood. The entire time she started explaining what really happened in Korea, I only thought, "What a great debate topic: should kids learn of loved ones' deaths right after it happens or learn of it after something important (like the SAT) is done with?" She didn't have much fun in Korea. She was just exhausted. Funeral arrangements and whatnot. I really can't believe that stuff actually happened. Mom had looked sad, but I thought she was just being a bugger about me being a total brat of a child. I was like, ugh, why is she being so ridiculous. I think that makes me truly disappointed in myself. Sorry, Mom.

It especially makes me sad that I wasn't even at your funeral. Mom explained that all of our relatives was at your bedside when you passed away, but I could only think, "But I wasn't there. I wasn't there. I should've been there." She said you were really delusional. Morphine, works wonders. She said the day she and Dad arrived, you were well and having a nice conversation with them, but the next day, you were really out of it. You couldn't comprehend who everyone was. Oh, morphine. At least you weren't in pain. I prayed that you wouldn't be in pain. So at least God listened to a part of my prayer. He couldn't do much about your death anyway probably. It probably was your time. You were 77. Too young actually. You should've lived to see me graduate high school. Enter college. Live until you were 86 at least. I feel like people should die in their 80s at the very least. But Mom said that you died 2 days before your birthday (which is 2 days before Chuseok) and that Korean proverbs say that if people die a day before their birthdays, it means they've lived a full life. Makes sense if you think about it. I thought it was wise. Your lunar birthday was?is? August 13, 1932. Your lunar deathday was?is? August 11, 2009 (September 29, 2009). I will not. forget those dates.

I really miss you. I hope you're faring well in Heaven. I sincerely hope there's a Heaven. Just because I want you to be completely blissful and pain-free right now. Colon cancer? Why on earth would God make the elderly suffer more by giving them such a horrible illness. Yeah, "everything happens for a reason," but I hate that people have to suffer along the way. Well, at least I really have something to walk for on Relay for Life. I will make you 29835135 paper bag memorial things. You deserve them! Ugh, I really can't help but be sad that you won't even see me graduate. I really wanted to visit you in the summer and see you and be good to you and make you laugh and cook your favorite food and.. make you happy to see me, to be with me.

Mom said that this would happen! Randomly, there will be times when I'll just cry all of a sudden and can't help but be SAD. I'm bitter. I'm really freaking bitter. I kept telling myself when I knew you weren't doing well that I will not cry because I think that when elderly people die, it's not that bad because I mean, they've lived a long life. But you. I'm crying because I could really have done so much more for you, and I was going to go to Korea this summer, and I didn't get to say goodbye, and I wasn't there at your funeral. AND what about grandma? She has been with you for so long, can she live without you? Yes, you guys bickered at each other all the time, but you guys could never live without each other. She's so frail and always so ill and tired. I can only pray that she has the heart to continue to live and be strong. Please stay strong, grandma. I hope you prove me wrong and you're stronger than I think you are..

Ugh. I am freaking bitter. But I'm sort of unnecessarily lashing out at people, I think, and I need to control my feelings more. So help me, please. And I hope you're okay with me going to homecoming. I feel like I shouldn't go. Should I not? I don't even know..

Well, I have to go back to doing homework now.

Rest In Peace, grandpa <3
1932~2009.

Lasts

Last year in high school starts soon! September 10th. I need to finish my homework. I hate homework. I can't believe we're going back to school again. Another year of tediousness, boredom, stress..

Last first day of K~12 school.
Last homecoming.
Last SAT.
Last AP testings.
Last Sadies.
First/last prom.
Last year of secondary education.

It's all coming up this year! Many memories to make. Many.

All the '08~'09 seniors are leaving pretty soon. I mean, all the Cal students left today/are leaving tomorrow. Soon, almost everyone's going to be leaving. I know we're going to see them again and things might not even change that much, but I think the reason I feel sad about it is because everyone honestly is moving on?

In five years, people will be in their mid-twenties and will undoubtedly be very different people.. Five years ago, I was such a naive, young, dumb child. Five years from now, I'm going to think I was naive, young, and dumb as a seventeen-year-old, haha. People change so much! I personally don't mind change like some do. Sometimes, I really enjoy change (ex: changing up my room, my hairstyle, my interest in music genres, moving, etc.). But I don't know! There are obviously some things that I really don't wish would change.. I feel so comfortable being with the people around me right now, it's really difficult to imagine that I'd be with different friends?acquaintances? when I'm in college and when I'm older. And because I'm in such a comfort zone at the moment, I'm disappointed that people are..moving..away. It's such an unnecessary feeling, to feel sad about this since we'll keep in touch (hopefully?), but I can't help it.. Ugh, I'm being sappy again.

I wonder if the people I'm friends with now and I will drift apart so much that if we were to meet again years later, I'd feel awkward and not know what to talk about with them. I hope not.. sigh.

Haircut day

I went to a savvy (Korean) hair salon today (technically yesterday) for my haircut. Since my mom told me that the hairstylist she booked me with was pretty fluent in English, when I went up to him, I spoke in English (naturally). We were getting along pretty fine, speaking in English, although his seemed a bit broken and pretty heavily accented. Then we got onto the topic of whether English was my first language and when I told him I came from Korea, he asked me in Korean when I came to the States. I replied, in Korean as well (to somewhat prove to him that I can understand/speak Korean I suppose), that I came in 3rd grade. Then he said, "Well, English is basically your first language then.." I shot back saying that no, Korean is, but he went onto ask that there are a lot of things in Korean that I don't know, right? And of course, I said right...

I was pretty disheartened though.

I'm not going to lie: before sophomore year, I was somewhat anti-Korea/Korean heritage/Koreans. The Korean fobs annoyed the hell out of me, the Korean actors/actresses seemed too meh for my taste, the Korean music was too tacky, and I pretty much wanted to be like my white friends from middle school: tall, "pretty," and so... American. But after sophomore year, when I surrounded myself with Korean people in Korean 4 honors, and after junior year, when Spencer updated me every single minute he was online with Korean entertainment news, I began to appreciate. My brother and my perspectives in our cultures totally swapped with each other. Before sophomore year, I was anti-Korea and Kevin was pro-Korea, chastising me and saying things like, "Korea is so great! You should be proud to be a Korean." Now, whenever I listen to Korean songs, my brother would roll his eyes, pretend to gag, and ask me why I enjoy Korean entertainment when I'm a resident of the great United States. Is it so wrong for me to enjoy things from my homeland? to want to become completely fluent in my first language so that I can be considered an excellent bilingual?

No! It shouldn't be. I feel like I'm trapped in a gray area. When I'm around white people, I want to show off that I can be just as American as they are. When I'm around Korean people, I want to show them that I can speak Korean, understand what they're saying, know (some of) the things they talk about. It really sucks.

Other thing that really sucks is my lack of self-control. After Shannon's low-carb diet, I've been wanting to cut back on some carbs as well. I'm not doing too bad, really, but there are those times when I think, 'Ah screw it, I'll just eat less later'. Or 'This will be the only thing I'll eat today since it has a bunch of carbs anyway'. Do I need to have Jessica Alba or Son Dambi tattoed on the back of my hand or something? to keep me from grabbing fatty foods? Gah, I need to discipline myself. RESIST.

Getting my hair cut was refreshing. My head feels lighter. My hair feels healthier. The only weird part is that when I run my fingers through my hair, I'm pretty disappointed that I meet the ends of my hair strands so quickly. I guess I miss running through my long hair the most. But other than that, change has come! I shall start my life anew!

Racism Question Mark

Last Sunday was the long awaited Interact Bon(d)fire. Kim, Joanne, Theo, and I arrived there at 8:30 AM and because it was cloudy, glum, and a bit sprinkling, there was literally nobody else at the beach except one other group that was saving their fire pit. I had slept at 4 in the morning due to (procrastinating on) working on the posters for the bonfire that would let people know where we were. THE JOY of being the publicity director! I love it.

Anyway, we were able to save two fire pits since around 60 people were supposed to come to this event. The West High Interact board finally got everything situated by 2pm: the two EZ-up tents, the table, the food, the drinks, the trash bags, the firewood, the getting-sand-out-of-the-pits dirty ordeal. It was incredibly exhausting actually.. And Dockweiler is so dirty! So so dirty because of the ashes that mix with the sand. I hate Dockweiler. I hate birds. I hate seagulls! I hate beach bathrooms, too. So sick.

It was around 4pm (when people were supposed to start arriving) when they came. The ignorant, disrespectful bullies. When Joanne, Nicole, Jenna, and I came back from the Dockweiler beach entrance to put up the beautiful posters that I made that morning, we saw basically the entire Interact board posse at our 2nd reserved pit arguing with a huge group of Mexican people. Someone informed us that they were trying to take our pit since nobody was actually at the pit even though our stuff was all near it. Even though basically everyone was at the 2nd pit arguing with the huge scary people, I just.. stayed where I felt safer. Yeah. But when I did walk over, I heard Julie and Joanne arguing like crazy, saw the rude people putting their own wood into the pit that we labored for an hour over trying to get all the sand, coal, glass, and nails out. Since they were the adults, and we were the teenagers, they basically bullied us because they knew we were incapable of really doing anything to them.

You know what, long story short: bullies came, took our pit, angered Interacters, Interacters& Katie Horton's mother& a Rotarian who was supervising this event were mad determined to get back at them, seriously called the cops, cops drove in their SUV to come talk to both our groups separately, two of the bullies started walking toward us, cops stopped them, had a discussion in between the two pits, cops sided with us (since we were honestly here until the early morning trying to reserve two pits for a reason), bullies were >:|, they moved, we got both pits, some people felt bad for them, and that was the end of that.

I asked my mom after that crazy dramatic ordeal if she would've moved if we told her and her adult friends if she was in the bullies' situation. She said yes. OF COURSE, RIGHT? HONESTLY, who freaking wouldn't? Yeah, there were no other fire pits, but would anyone honestly start cursing at us, putting their own wood into the pit disrespectfully, and ignoring us and completely zoning us out? Oh, why I outta... Sigh, and I feel that if they were a different race, things might have been different.

I mean, not at the actual things that went down. But I feel a little uncomfortable telling the story because I'd have to say "these Mexicans blah blah blahed." Or I wouldn't have to say "these Mexican people" per se, but I feel like just saying "these people blah blah blahed" doesn't tell the entire story? As if telling the race makes people view things differently? But.. I always feel that some people may take it as some racist statement when talking about what Mexicans or black people did. It just sounds insulting for some reason. And I feel like people would envision things differently if they heard what the Mexican people did as to how they might view things if they heard a group of white people had done what they did to us. If you get what I mean.. What a complicated situation to describe. But I guess it's only complicated because I don't want to sound racist..

Ah, the next post will be happier.