It's all about money

I was just thinking about how frustrating it is. That is, I hate my father but if something happened to him I'd still cry like a fucking baby. Like that day he came home really late-or didn't come home at all because his car broke down so he stayed at the station (presumably). I stayed up to hear the front door open. It's out of principle or something, that we are taught that a nuclear family-2 parents+kids is what is necessary for a normal life. I disagree. The two incomes are definitely helpful but when one parents is making a negative income-pouring it into his brothers'/nephews' wallets, and the other parent is picking up odd jobs, being verbally abused and harassed for $4/hr to pick up the slack, I don't think two parents necessarily contribute to the offspring's happiness. I need to get the fuck out of here. That is my first selfish though. My next thought is wondering if I will always be tied to this house in some way because I need to watch and make sure my parents don't get scammed or my dad comes up with another stupid plan that would really get us into financial trouble. I have not felt rage like that in a while. The last time was maybe when he immediately got on the phone with his brother and tattled about how my mom ("that woman") wanted to sue him fro fraud and his brothers for embezzlement (rightfully so). I took the phone from him and threw it across the room, shattering it (forgot Verizon didn't have sim cards). He had sobbed while I screamed at him, that he should tell his brother to get him a new one since he's done so much for him already. I was furious at how quickly he had sold out his family even though we have suffered because he's been giving everything to his bastard brothers, who have been able to buy new cars every few years, amassed 9 houses and embezzled 1M over the years. While we have lived in the same house for 20+ years unable to repaint or fix things because we can't afford to. I felt no remorse for making him cry bitch tears.

I'm not a very good religious character.

My mom had told me a few days ago that in mass the priest had said there is not difference in big or small sins, or how big or small someone has wronged you, you must forgive it all. I immediately disagreed in my head. The murder and rape of a child should be held differently in court in comparison to the stealing of a bar of candy (the hypoglycemic case). I suppose the Bible wants us all to be saints. But I am not so forgiving. Every circumstance is different, but this anger and disappointment at my father doesn't seem to want to fade anytime soon. I know for certain that I will not have nine kids and neglect them so they develop strange, unhealthy complexes with one another. Or maybe no kids at all. A lot of very successful women have told me that at some point you must choose between having a family and your career. That family isn't happening anytime soon so I guess I'll throw myself into this dream I've been having. No more wasting time deluding myself.

And all of a sudden my personal troubles have become minuscule. So what if my boyfriend and his family look down at me, throw me into the category of women who marry for money or green cards. I know me and I know my potential and moral values. I guess it's just up to me to acquire my own assets, run my own career, be responsible for my own happiness.

Rot

I feel as though my brain is deteriorating as I grasp for simple words when communicating to people. Which brings up another point, I wouldn't say I was an extremely persuasive or entertaining speaker, but I find myself becoming less and less articulate as the days go by. It could be the fact that my academic career has taken a social dive, in which much of my time is spent reading long, dry papers written in scientific notation and less time talking to people (either peers or professors). Less time on campus and removal from a college town and instead, sending oneself to a foggy ridden space of urban decay isn't exactly fertilizer for the intellect. It could also be the amount of time spent on the internet, less time spent educating oneself on world news and more time on entertainment-on tv and facebook and pictures of cats.

For a short time the hypochondriac in me thought it was perhaps finally time the amount of alpha amyloid proteins began to outweigh the healthy brain tissue, eating holes into my memories. It was never easy to communicate or get my point across, but it's never been this bad before. Which is slightly problematic, seeing as I'll be communicating with lots of people in my future job.

Disclosure

This may sound a bit depressing, but it came to mind as I allowed myself to wander earlier. That is, what if life (or being alive) isn't what it's all choked up to be. I mean it's the law in religion and region that we should intervene if someone is trying to commit suicide but what if their life sucked? Maybe they were awkward around people and didn't have any close friends, or maybe they had no course in life-no career, no money, no goals. So why is it fair that they be condemned to eternity in purgatory (or a 'hell') when all they wished for was a non existence?

Life isn't an amazing and wondrous thing for everyone. Sometimes people do reach out for help and for a short time they do get the love and attention they need. But when all of the hype and media of early death has died down, these people are once again left alone in their quiet misery. Not everyone wants to be alive or to find purpose in life. Not everyone is loved or understood so I don't understand why religions that preach love and hope should persecute those simply fed up with existence when they offer no long term solutions (except for the threat of being banned from heaven) should one decide to end their own life.

Note: I am not intent in any way to end my life, but this idea of ethics when approaching suicide came up as a passing thought. That in a world of free will, everything is up to you, your decision, except when it comes to your own life.

Catharsis or something like it

I feel like it's one of those things where you were at the wrong place at the wrong time. Only it isn't a crime scene. More like an overly dramatized version of your life. Jack's dull life in video game mode. In any event, it seems like everyone else is happy or trying very hard to make the people they care about happy (and the party generally returns the favor). People are getting engaged, are living together, or both. Two years in and my 'significant other' can't stomach the thought. What makes me so difficult to be with. Oh the excuses. I could make rather entertaining rage comics about them and karma whore. First it was not having friends so he wants roommates..well current roommates don't seem to be filling that part at the moment do they. And then I thought well maybe it's the financial thing. He starts raving about how much money he's making. Can't stop smiling. Can't shut up about it.

And yet the issue with me would be oh dear just don't have the money to do it. Oh, and even if I pay for half the rent? Nope won't fix anything. So I think about offering to find a place that fulfills all the requirements-cheap rent, allows pets, in the 'right' location (even if it's fucking far from where I need to be for school and work). And then it hits me.

This person doesn't even want to live with me so why go through the trouble? Doesn't really make sense does it. Almost like a shot gun wedding. Why go through the trouble of forcing someone to be with you when they couldn't give a rats ass where you are at night. I guess I deserve it for investing so much into my first relationship.

How stupid.

Now, where's my firefighter/police officer/ex-marine to come to the rescue?

Just kidding. Like I enjoy dating or something.

Almost

I can't believe such a silly word started a fight.

Does it ever seem like everyone else's relationships are ideal and the one that you decided to fight for and keep seems to always be the one that has problems? I hate going back to old topics and remembering what I don't have at present and what I could have had. The greener grass conundrum. I hate arguing semantics as much as the next person but it feels like this is the sort of situation in which binary would be most appropriate. Like a school sending an 'almost acceptance letter'-stating they received your statement of interest and that perhaps you'll get a reply from them in a few months. Why not just straight out say yes or no when the time comes.

Almost. Like the time I almost met with a man whose family wanted me to marry into. Or the time I almost saved my dog. Or how I almost went to the right school, and if I had I would probably be in med school right now with a friend who had wanted me to go to college with her. Paltry words. The event either happens or it doesn't. If you are leaning towards it happening (since nothing is ever certain) then fine, start planning and thinking happy thoughts. Make everyone happy. If it's not then make that clear too, don't go doing sweet meaningless things. And if you plain don't know, then whatever, don't do anything as per usual. Drift on until a decision is made but don't, in the middle of it all, say I almost was going to do this. It sounds like an afterthought, to the person who wished for it, like something happy was going to happen but now maybe not so much. Like the day we stopped celebrating Christmas. I was in my 20s and was looking forward to it. But it never happened.

I hate holidays. I hate relationships that involve kissing and hugging and laughing because you get too attached and don't know what moves the person is planning. They are either in or against your favor and you can never know because they're hot and cold most of the time.

I get it, I'm not marriage material and never was. I'm the opposite of porphyria, when I get sick I sound like a man, I'm always studying or working on something and my career path has a ways to go. Not to mention the defective genes-thin enamel and too-big of hips.

But a girl can dream. I read papers with big words, do presentations in front of a lot of people during the day, but at night I look at shiny things. And it feels guilty, because it's not like it's something I deserve or anyone would ever give to me. Usually it's the sort of thing you look at with a partner. And there's usually a lot of holding hands and smiling involved. But in this case, my partner is a cat. A very judgmental cat mind you, but better than a complete lack of company I suppose. I don't think I would go too mad from living with a cat and dog. Complete with my townhouse filled with pictures of science-y things on the wall. And all of the clothes would be in the closet/or on their hangers. There would be room on the hardwood floors to prance with the animals. That would be nice. Although most of the time I would probably just plop on the (single) couch and cuddle with the animals and play on the computer after a day at work. It's lonely but I'll get used to it. Just like Amelie. Oh wait, she had a happy ending.

Coughing fits

Today was a hit every red light possible kind of day. Didn't sleep well again. Left too late and ended up 30 minutes late to the test. But got out before a few others did so maybe all that prep was worth it. Second class not so much. I made the same mistake as last time and focused too much on the test that came before it and didn't study enough for the second test. It rained all day. Kept throwing up from all the coughing. How embarrassing. There's nothing worse than the taste of bile after lunch. Had to pay for parking because I got to campus late. Got a point back for arguing about the test. Came home to the house smelling like burgers. Mom gave a genuine smile in God knows how long and said it made her happy to see me eat well. I guess hamburger meat was on sale today. Walked the dog even though it was too cold outside, but it made him happy. Got to relax with a movie and icecream and a cat.

Late at night

Sometimes it seems as though everyone is moving along, forward to higher and better (happier) places. Whereas it seems as though I am moving at a snail's pace. This isn't going anywhere. It's probably wrong of me to think, but had I taken different paths I would probably be where I'd like to be, or at least accelerating towards that goal. I feel like everything is stagnant, nothing has changed from 2 years ago, except maybe I've regressed some.

I hate it because I like to keep moving forward, but when there are other people involved, it makes things difficult. Like they're not ready to move forward because they like what's comfortable, or they don't see moving forward as moving forward, they see it as moving towards something that might not be pleasant. Because things 'might not work out' so they decide to half ass it the whole way, with me Sisyphusing along. I hate having to constantly encourage others. I'm sick of cheering for others along as I'm left behind. I don't like doing pointless things when there are easier paths to be taken out there and I could be where I want to be in 6 months had I chosen a different path. Instead, I am stuck in the same place, with the same thoughts. I don't like it when I'm doing the same things as other people but I'm still getting different results. Where it seems like I'm doing more work because the other person is less than enthusiastic to help the process along. I hate having a decision made and then having it disintegrate as times passes. Nothing is ever certain, sure. But pick a fucking plan and follow it through. There is nothing worse than the 'wait and see' method. No good ever comes of it. Usually one party loses out on a lot. Particularly, time. No one has much of it these days and I seem to squander it still on the same silly things. Worry. Regret.

I wish I could just take a trip with that group, the ones that go on a boat without a worry for 3 months to help people. Maybe I could find myself by doing that. But I don't know anything about sailing..

A thought

I wonder if it's a bad sign, an omen if you will, about my career choice, I mean. Excuse the ambiguity, but that is how life has been for the past month or so. Everything has been fragmented and disjointed so it only makes sense to have bled into my writing. In any event, today I experienced a very foreign feeling, the thought, 'I'm tired of taking care of people'. Now, what kind of a thought is that? And how will it make me a good care provider when I can give up so easily after a few short weeks of taking care of my own? How troublesome to be on a road that begins to appear hazy only after so long.

Although I am certain about the rewards involved in helping others, sacrificing for others, what about the times in which I will not be able to help, when despite hours and hours of researching or going out of my way and risking sanity to help a person (or people) there is nothing to yield? I am not a a very calm person. Passion is my vice it seems. I am passionate about justice, equality, providing a better quality of life for others. But my passions are quickly quenched when all roads have been exhausted, or even better (worse?), when the individual themself wants no help, or has given up on the endeavor.

I thought for awhile, would pursuing justice be something I could do? With someone seeking legal assistance it may be much more simple than attempting to treat a cancer patient. Since you can tell the client to walk away, when the case is seemingly impossible and not worth pursuing. But then I recall my values, how perhaps at times you will be called upon to protect the unjust. And you can't turn them down if you want your family to eat. What's more, oftentimes people will find loopholes to get out of trouble. And it is all in the legal system so you can do nothing but stop and stare. How frustrating that would be. I'm not sure I would be able to stomach that kind of a situation. Perhaps I should just aspire to become a Dexter sort of character, an intelligent character who does his research and (usually) corrects injustices that would be easily overlooked or abandoned by a society that values money over what or who is right.

So I suppose I will stick with my current plan. So much time and money, and what if it yields to be fruitless? I was shown statistics the other day in class: med school, dental school data for students who applied, got rejected/accepted. So many ranges. Where do I fall? 4/29 students from last year's program (same as the one I am currently in) got accepted. Only 4. A few students had seemingly flawless stats-3.8, 3.9, high gpas. All rejected. One student had decent stats, applied to 68 schools and got rejected from all. That is more than 10K in applications, tests, post grad programs to boost the application. What then? Where do you go from there? Should I cut my losses and apply to a program I know I can complete and work for a while, climbing the corporate ladder? One student applied to every school in the U.S., save 4. The list was more than 120 schools. He got rejected from all of them. What did these people do wrong? Was it that the gpa boost was too late? Because if it is, I need to know. Or were their lives too boring? I have quite a few conflicts to share, but how to frame it? So many questions. Obviously the advisors for the program will vouch for themselves, student retention is a key selling point. How do I sift between the right and wrong options? I wish we were given life coaches. Someone who knows all the pitfalls to life. But I know, then the universe would not have entropy, no conflict to make the world go round. Time would stop, and I suppose everything would be run on jelly toast-cats.

At what age do these insecurities go away? Where will I be in 5 years? I know the thought should be 'will I be a better person'. But selfish me says "I want this" or I want to have accomplished that. I'm trying though, so I guess it will have to be enough for now. I wonder if it will be enough in the long run.

Problems

It's very similar to looking at your clean white porcelain teeth and noticing a tiny black dot on the surface, or perhaps even in a crevice. It's so small and unnoticeable so you put it at the back of your mind and forget about it. When you finally decide to go to the dentist years later, that tiny black dot is still there, but as you drill away, all the tissue underneath has putrefied, rotting a fowl stench. I think that's very similar to finding out the extent of your money problems.

I'm starting to sleep too much again. I don't know how to fix this. It is driving me insane and I don't know what to do. My parents were ignorant people to get themselves in so much trouble, they started discussing the problem when it was too late. I found them resources but they won't use them. I don't understand anything anymore. I have to take care of my parents now, because they are like children, refusing to eat or sleep. They aren't thinking logically anymore. I don't understand why they are going to seek help from lawyers who have the same limited english skills as them. When they have shown time and time again to be unreliable, to lose paperwork, to fail and get flustered at court hearings. I wanted my kids to be able to see the house I grew up in. I thought everything was ok and paid for. My mom said something that made me break down earlier-how she went on a 2 hour walk to the save mart she used to buy our school supplies and how she would bring me and my brother and we'd run around getting all excited about the new school year and how she felt alone and sad at that moment because the 'beautiful' moments in her life are over. She talked about how back then my brother and I would make such a ruckus she wanted to just leave us at home for a bit so she could buy all the school supplies or groceries, but how now that we've grown up, she goes to the store alone. She regretted not being thankful or making the most of those times. It made me cry. I think we did make the most of those times, because we definitely had some very good memories in this house and in this neighborhood.

We (my mom, me and my brother) went on quite a few very nice vacations together. My dad never seemed to be part of the family. I used to feel sorry for him that he was working so hard. I still feel sorry for him, but for a different reason. What kind of idiot allows someone like a greedy older brother put their name on every contract correlating to every piece of property you own? What kind of person allows said brother to steal from your company so that you take out the equity on your home out to pay for the debt and attempt your company afloat? Who waits until that brother dies to start addressing the debt issues? When foreclosure is imminent and your wife and children will become homeless?

I was never close to my father. He was always working or arguing with my mom, which my mother took everytime. She always agreed with his plans because he never shared any of the paperwork with her, even though she owned part of the company. I want to take it to court and ruin his brother family, all fifteen offspring that lived off of my dad's blood and sweat, who all have houses worth a million. They spent all of my dad's company money on homes and cars and my dad has lived in the same crappy (what I used to think) one story house for the past 20+ years. What is wrong with this person. It's not being unselfish or altruistic, it's being stupid and naiive to put the safety of your family on the line just to appease your older sibling's spending habits.

I tell this story to people and they don't believe me. Who could possibly be that stupid. I'm young, but I remember when I was in elementary school I had talked to a friend about my parent's problem. I knew it was a problem, and that it could easily be solved by taking it to court, but my father had told me not to talk back to my elders when I brought up the option. It was infuriating. I didn't want to talk to my dad anymore. It was just a budding problem back then, they could have taken care of it. But they didn't Where was my mom in all of this? She had the legal power to do something about it, being the co-owner of the company. She could have talked to her friends about what steps she could have taken to secure the home she lived in. But she just

Cranes

When I was little I folded a huge paper crane, but before I made the wings and wrote my mom and dad's name on either wing and drew a heart around them because I wanted them to love each other forever. >before I was privy to their screaming fights and silent weeks<

I also used to go on the Stanford website and wonder how amazing it would be if I were to become a student there someday. >before I realized that the kind of people who go to these types of schools are usually so intellectually far ahead of you, conversations often come off as condescending or end up making you feel ignorant<

When I was little I'd chew on the ends of these yellow flowers that grow near my house because my babysitter said it tasted like sour apples. >before I saw all the dogs that brush by to mark their territory in the bushes<

I used to dream silly nightmares, about aliens and killer Jim Careys and monsters trying to break into my house. When I grew up I dreamed of real-life nightmares, of failing tests and getting rejected.

When I was a little yellow belt I told my instructor I wished I was a white belt again, so I wouldn't have to learn all of the forms. He asked me if I wanted to, I could. I've realized that even though it's nice to be naive and innocent, becoming educated about the world and learning more about yourself is worth the sacrifice and the pains of making mistakes and taking unnecessary detours.

I remember actually thinking about what it would be like if I ever acquired a time machine and could start over again from grade 2. My mind would still be the same, I would be a 20-something year old redoing nearly 14 years of regression. How boring and sad that would be. There's no way to redo things and make them "perfect" it seems. My reality checker once said that you do everything the best you can at that point in time, and so there's no need for regret. Even so, it's hard to think this way sometimes, when all you can see is the imaginary green grass. I guess I'll keep trying. I mean there really isn't a choice is there.

Secondhand

I am sure that the words I am about to write, even as they take form in my cerebrum, are the most unoriginal thoughts to date. Millions of twenty somethings throughout history have probably gone through the same thought processes, written them down in one form or another. Be it a sonnet or rock ballade. But it has always somewhat shocked me, how predictable people can be. With the same generic mind fcuks that each individual must go through, depending on the age group. So here I am. In the "where is my life going/will I ever find the person I was meant to be with/I am never going to stop being alone" stage.

There used to be days, in the, as I look back now, sunny days in a small college town in which I would be running around all week trying to fit a million things into 24 hours. Then the weekend would come and all I had to worry about was planning things to do with friends. How I miss those days. In the past I had scorned being at a school in which I didn't fit in (or so I thought) and hating the fact that despite my hard work and dedication, the universe did not always reward hard work. But I guess I wasn't trying hard enough. Or rather, I was directing my efforts in solely one direction: academics. In doing so I neglected doing things that would help me develop into a better version of my self. I suppose there are things out there are better than book smarts. Like friendship. And learning how to make things better when regretful words are passed. I wish I learned how to make girl friends when I was younger. I don't think that was ever a skill I acquired as a child. I see girls walking around shopping or going out to eat and I envy that. I wish I had friends from second grade that followed me all the way till college. And in a way, I did finally meet those girls. But I suppose the universe like chaos much more than the steady ebb of contentment. Just as I began to meet so many wonderful girls willing to be my friend-either in classes or as roommates, one of us had to move away..onto the next stage of life as it were. I wish I could have taken them with me.

When I was in seventh grade I dreaded becoming an eighth grader and graduating. It terrified me to leave elementary school for the big wide world. I remember wishing on a star one night, that all of the friends I'd made in a class of 35 would be able to go to the same high school so we could all be together. Such a selfish, childish thought. If that had happened, no one would be happy or be able to grow up with different life experiences. Just like how God had wanted the twelve animals to have a banquet with him forever. Anyway, of course that never happened as I ended up going to a single sex high school. I recently looked up those kids I knew from way back when. A few of them really did move onto bigger and better things. Getting into law school, Stanford, working for radio stations. A few were left behind I guess, enjoying the college scene far too much to leave after only 4 years.

Anyway, today I contemplated all of the hours I've spent alone either driving to work or school or to see the boyfriend and maintain a ldr, eating lunch alone on campus during the summer and now at this new school. So many hours I'll never get back and I'm sure that on my death bed I will have wished I could have spent more time with the people I love.

background: this was all spurred by talking about how women are no longer allowed to get breast cancer screens after 65 because it costs more to extend the woman's life by a couple years. I tried to be objective, see things from an epidemiological point of view (weigh the population's health over the individual's), but when I put things into perspective and think about how that's only 5 years from now that they won't screen my mom anymore.. it's not fair when it hits so close to home. The numbers hadn't affected me (prevalence of breast cancer that was found too late and became mortality numbers).

I wish I could spend more time with the people I care about rather than having my nose stuck in a book.

No more dreaming

I need to stop eating so much. Sure, this may sound like a typical rant from an anorexic or the like but the truth of the matter is I eat too much. I can eat a normal amount of food and exercise three times a week and I'll still be slightly above average weight. Now that there are time constraints and stressors that make me rather sleep than go to the gym, well that doesn't exactly help my case. I know, you can't just whine about something and expect improvement. However, it can be so difficult to motivate oneself when there is so little improvement from so much effort.

On a side note, do you ever say or do anything that drastically deviates from your established character? It can either glean resentment or applause, but in my case it seems to be suspicion (as in who am I really?). So that is the regret of the day (in addition to taking a nap instead of walking the dog..poor doggy).

It seems as though there is a possibility of overdosing on multivitamins if you happen to take them in addition to other vitamins (more than 100% of daily suggested dose can be harmful). Silly to think that although I am supposed to be well versed in such a topic (science, medicine) and add onto the fact that I am currently taking a toxicology class, it seems almost ironic that I let these common sense details slip my mind. Apparently overdosing on calcium can prevent the absorption of iron, lead to kidney failure in the long term, and lethargy in the short term (acute exposure). Well then, that might explain the excessive sleepiness. Such a strange physical world it is, to have a counter intuitive idea such that if you take many good things together they end up cancelling each other out and/or causing harm.

It makes me wonder sometimes, if I will ever be completely independent and if I will be happy leaving what is comfortable. Oftentimes people will go from family to their significant other and they are not given the chance to grow and change of their own accord. But I also wonder if those experiences allowed them to grow in different ways, ie. how to love and care for others. It may be terrible to leach onto those we are most comfortable with, but the idea of living completely on my own (no roommates) terrifies me just a bit. To only be able to come home to my dog (if that) and then do work in a quiet apartment until it's time to go to sleep and then repeat the cycle. I wonder if it is selfish to cling to comfortable environments until I can move into my next home. But I know for a fact that living absolutely alone in a city of strangers or with roommates who just don't care would take me for a depressing spin. I wonder why people must be so needy. We need air to breathe, which is (for now) only present in abundant amounts on one planet out of an entire galaxy and not only that but we need to eat every six hours (five for me) and drink water or else within three days die of dehydration. And on top of all that we must find this thing we call love. Sigh~such a finicky species, even worse than a cat.

Today was the Lunar New Year celebration. I was supposed to go see the annual firecrackers and lion dancing shows and eat New Year's food, but got sidetracked instead and missed it. When I called mom to ask her where she was, she hurriedly dismissed me and hung up just as I said, "I just wanted to call and say I'm home and lonely." A little pathetic, now that it is an afterthought. But it was a strange afternoon. I locked the door and firmly pulled it closed, but as I got to my room I heard the screen door swing open and closed. As I walked to the front door, the handle was still locked, but the door had swung open. Very curious as the screen door and front door are not attached. My doggy didn't bark at all but it still terrified me at the thought that someone, (or something, in my childish mind) could be in the house. Even if my seventeen lb and ten year old dog had sounded the alarm, his gumming would do little to resolve the issue. And so I went to my room and set up a base if you will, ready to spring into defense should someone decide to come a-knocking. The entire house was silent and dark. It no longer felt safe to walk doggy after the half dream half nightmare nap and so I tried to get some work done. Of course the internet decides to turn on and off when I finally decide to sit down and actually do something productive.

And so I began to write this (after finally submitting the first assignment of course). I wonder what I will do if one day I am left all alone, the kids (if there are any) have moved out and the spouse has left me.. maybe if I'm lucky I'll be one of those little old ladies who follow their husband after three days. But then my kids/dog/cat would be left all alone so I hope that they are happy and surrounded by people they love when I have to go. Such a hard situation (and morbid!), but I recall thinking at one point in my naive childhood that without my parents I would die. And so I resolved to thinking that in order to prevent this from happening, everyone would have to be in a car accident at the same time or at home when there's an earthquake. I suppose I could say that I went through a gloomy phase as a child.

The other day a wave of depression hit me when I got a response about how I can rework my resume so that company reps wouldn't roll their eyes at it. I was asked why I wanted to go into blood drawing when I was planning to do research initially. I don't know if it was the hellish past five months I have gone through to do mundane work for more than 5 hours a day and then not be recognized for my work (but to have someone waltz in and take over my project, receive a badge and official documentation as a research assistant there and offers of getting published), or something to the effect but it seems as though I am not cut out nor interested in doing research. If the paycheck was considerable and I was working with people who actually showed an ounce of respect for me, then I would gladly do it. But at the same time, my future career path is with patients, in a clinical setting and I wonder if doing a job there (even as a technician) would help my perspective on my goals (and resume). This thought then jumped to the idea of what if (which are most often terrible). What if I finish this post bacc program and don't get accepted anywhere? What do I do from there? I remember seeing the school's track record in placing people. Many people did get in, but so many more got rejected or only the first interview. What if I am in debt and don't have a job to pay for it, or my future has nothing to show for all of the work I put into shaping it as I wanted it? What if my life choices make my kids think that they don't need to try hard in life because it won't take you anywhere, anyway?

On a happier note, I love dogs. I wish I could adopt a dog right now so it could keep my current one happy when I can't be around. Probably not a good idea though seeing as one dog, one cat, and a bird are already proving to be a handful. Someone should invent mini walls or security 'fences' for one's laptop in order to prevent inconsiderate cats from typing away as he rubs up against his owner for attention. These mini walls must be able to hold up x lbs of pressure per square inch seeing as how a cat's rub or batting action can have an insurmountable amount of force. Engineers! Hop to it!

Everyone has a similar dream I think, and that is happiness. Whether it is to simply not be lonely and have a rewarding career (mine) or some of the more eccentric, such as breeding goats to do landscaping. I wonder if the universe's obsession with chaos has things fit in such a way that there must be an equal number of unhappy people with broken dreams to balance out the happy people with their stupid picket fences and blue shutters. Similar to the whole darkness and light thing. That would be depressing. Futile too, since if the above is true, then how do we figure out if we are the unlucky few destined to be unhappy forever? If this were established, those people could just float in life and not have to worry about fighting against the inevitable current. But I suppose that is the point of living, that you make your own destiny and you can't blame anyone in the great blue sky for your sorrows should your life end poorly because you spent it leaning back in your chair and not doing anything to improve every moment. Which brings me to a sidenote: the other day in lab, as I was looking at the countdown clock tick by, looking forward to seeing a significant other, I realized that those seconds were something I would never be able to get back. I was basically counting down my life. At a job I hate. Where I wasn't even getting paid for. And so I am off on a mission to do something meaningful, with the skills I have in the meantime and to continue to work hard and do my best to get into medical school. Because I will make being a doctor and opening a free clinic where it's really needed my destiny.

I wonder why certain songs, or music in general can invoke emotions. Animals use it as a pickup line (generally).

Frames of reference

Do not infer or assume but read word for word. Simple meanings are apparently more easily misconstrued than I thought.

On issues with recall: time periods, emotionally charged words over neutral, sequence of events.

At this age I did not think I'd find myself icing my eyes the morning after. Since when did the victim become the abuser. It may be cliche but the world certainly does not care about what's fair. I am too frustrated to be angry but at this point I don't care anymore. I am tired of 'abusing' this person any longer but need his permission to leave. No one has ever hurt me as much as this has. And it is not fair for skewed perceptions to preside and make me out to be the bad guy. I do not deserve this and at one point, out of sheer frustration, wanted to fish out his ex for them to get back together so that his mother would be happy. Because his happiness is worth more than mine and I suppose that's understandable since we are neither flesh nor blood.

But the injustice of it all. Who cared when I cried and got hurt. My family, most certainly, and of course friends. Yet his family and friends accuse me of isolating, destroying his life. I most certainly did not point a gun and shout orders. I did not expect or want things to always go my way. What I expected was quite simple-consistency. If you're going to promise something, then follow through. But that should hold true for any relationship, not just the romantic. I wanted to scream out of frustration. stop harassing, abusive Such harsh words caught me off guard. So, this is far from a healthy relationship. Then why stay? I haven't forced the idea of trying to make things work for a year and a half now. Gave up after he toyed with the idea of going to Guam immediately after a year in Japan. Amazing how important I was to him at the time. I don't consider myself that important, but perhaps he should have made a more conscious effort to be with me. And he has and that has made me incredibly happy so I don't understand where the confusion is when I am accused of being abusive. When you promise your long distance significant other that you will see them and decide to flake last minute I would assume that some disappointment is in order. I am human after all.

Yet I am accused of not being nice, of forcing him to alienate himself (didn't I tell him to go out New Year's?) and move. I have not done any of the above. Granted, there were two occasions in which I explicitly said that I needed to see him and that was only because the aforementioned had stated that he would days before. Everyone has a bad day. Those with significant others often have the luxury of spending time with said person to unwind and recover from the day's tribulations. And yet I am accused of being abusive and controlling when I have been promised time and then denied it last minute. I don't even know or care about what to do to resolve this issue anymore.

Lesson of the day: don't get into a relationship where communication is a problem and the other person's family will inflict harm upon your health should a misunderstanding arise.