Fainting Goat

Okay, so I was reading an article in the NYTimes about endangered American foods, and they mentioned an animal called the Tennessee fainting goat. Interested, I looked it up, and let's just say it reacts rather humorously when startled. (Don't you want one too now?)

I know, I know. I'll get back to work now.

I'd Rather Have A Life

Elite Korean Schools, Forging Ivy League Skills

As annoying as it is to think that these precious Ivy spots are being taken up by international students who have gone through educational boot camp, I can't be more grateful for the life I have now. That's not to say I'm no longer bitter over the feeling of working so hard and not getting exactly what I wanted in return, but if I may borrow words from Candide, and this isn't blind optimism, perhaps "all is for the best"... really.

I can't read that article without cringing and shaking my head. Where's the happiness? Honestly. To be trained like that is so inhumane. To think that it's okay to sacrifice sleep and health for study is wrong. To think that it's okay to put aside the heart's inclinations is wrong. To think that it's okay to never have a chance to breathe and look back and absorb life experiences is wrong.

But I do believe that all is for the best. I'm college-bound and my hard work has paid off (quite literally actually), as it's the scholarship I earned that is allowing me to attend an institution I love as opposed to the state school that may not be for me. I'll have fun at BU, and you know what? I'm going to have a life.

And that's a lesson they will never learn.

Bento Blogging and Boston

So even though I still don't completely like how it looks, I'm not tech savvy enough to make it look nicer and I'm not willing to go out and use someone else's template. But here it is!

Think Inside the Box - A site for all my culinary creations.

It's also available in my profile too in case it would ever strike your fancy again to look at them.

But anyway, that aside, I'll be heading up to Boston and coming back late Friday night. I'm attending one of BU's Open House events, so I'll be sure to blog about it when I get back.

Pennsylvania Primary

Clinton Beats Obama in Pennsylvania

Yes, she can! Yes, she can!

I'm so excited right now. Hooray for Hillary! Even though I know that she still has a long way to go, I'm still going to keep hoping for her.

In fact, the NYTimes had this nifty (yes, I said nifty) little interactive thing on their website earlier that calculated what she needed to win... it was a bit discouraging, but it showed that it was definitely still possible (and I admit that the gadget itself was pretty cool). I tried to find a link for it, but I don't think it had one in the first place. (Sorry!)

In other news, my bento box came in today (straight from Japan)! (I know, I'm such a dork.) It also came with a little bag, and the box itself is cuter than I expected. It looks bigger in the picture than it actually is, but isn't it just adorable?

... with detail shot.

All the layers.

Anyway, since these little things have become my latest obsession, I actually made another blog specifically for it. I'm not going to post the link up just yet because it's still under construction, but once I deem it presentable enough I'll be sure to let you know. Until then, you're just going to have to wait to see my wonderful culinary skills (or lack thereof).

Ah, so much excitement. And so little work getting done.

Murphy's Law

So it was Wednesday night (technically Thursday morning I suppose), I was talking to FatMan on AIM, and I had A.P. Gov homework which for once had to be done online.

This was the last thing I said to him:

"I think I'll start my homework now."

Then my internet cuts out. Right then. Really.

So the internet is out for Thursday and most of Friday.

Did I mention I had a term paper due yesterday?

Yeah, not cool.

And so that began the most annoying two days of my life. Who knew a person could be so dependent on the internet? Even though (luckily) my sources for my paper weren't internet sources, I still needed it to write my works cited page and look up words on Merriam-Webster Online. In fact, I had to do that part in school. What was supposed to be a lovely, relaxing day turned into a stressful nightmare thanks to having an incomplete term paper looming on my mind. All those wasted hours in school that were supposed to calm me down only made me worry that I was wasting time when I could have been finishing my paper (and I really did need to finish).

Already, it was the day with my free period and independent study in art, so I would have been done anyway by third period. To add to that though, there weren't enough subs so my class sat in the auditorium doing nothing for first period, and then since half the class was missing my second period teacher didn't do anything either.

While I would have normally loved this, I kept stressing out and saying to myself, "I could be working on my term paper right now!"

Working since I got home and gallantly fighting the urge to fall asleep, I eventually finished at 8 and e-mailed it to my teacher by 9, so I'm good (I had until 10 to get it to her). It's just too bad that I wasted a GORGEOUS day inside and that I finished so late that everyone already had plans and I couldn't really hang out with anyone after (plus I desperately needed sleep).

So should I have learned a lesson from all of this? Did I deserve this for waiting until the last minute? Maybe, but who actually doesn't wait until very last moment to do things?

Honestly. All I've learned is that Murphy's Law really does suck.

An Evening in Central Park

Yes, so for any of you who didn't get a chance to see it, here's the end result:

There's water under the bridge... no not really.


Close up!


Detail Shot: ArtsyFartsyFriend's Horse and Carriage


Detail Shot: Skyline and "Starry Night"-esque Sky

Detail Shot: Moon! (Too bad it had to be painted over two boards.)

I was tempted to edit out the lines, but I thought I'd keep it authentic. So yeah, there you have it! And it's all thanks to moi... no not really. I think the most I did was putting on the base colors... oh and I painted a few of the stand-alone trees (which isn't a part of the main painting, conveniently can't be seen in my pictures, and that AFF had to touch up anyway). But yeah, credit goes to my artsy-fartsy friends, ArtsyFartsyFriend and the Puppeteer (as I shall call him due to his mad Little Shop of Horrors puppeteer-ing skills). They did a fantastic job, no?

Too bad the midnight balloon drop didn't work... but we had nothing to do with that.

Heart Beats Truth

I think I hear it... the beating of my heart I banished long ago.

I feel it, that sheer love, that brute want, that subtle impulse that was meant to guide all animals forward. No longer relying on that which defines the human, but instead on that which defines what occurs in nature, what naturally occurs, I believe I have found what is really right, what is correct, what is true.

I can't make a decision based on my brain because my brain distorts the present in an effort to change the future. It lies to me, woos me into its vision, and attempts to justify things when they finally go wrong. It's brought me unhappiness all these years, false hope that didn't pay in the end.

So I went to find my heart, to pull it from the depths of obscurity. And ignoring my brain that's in turmoil, both from disappointment and overwork, both byproducts of its master plan, I finally began to feel my heart reverberating against the empty chamber it fell prisoner to so many years ago.

And looking back, my heart has always been there for me. Imprisoned, suppressed, it's been speaking to me all this time, past the bars of its chamber, like a mother who leaves gifts by the fence of her estranged child's home, always caring, always there. And I can see the path it has lit for me, the signs it had posted in hope that I would someday realize and follow.

Curiosity comes from the heart, not from the mind, and realizing that now, the decision is clear. What I thought I wanted was all superficial. I never loved any of them. I loved things about them but never them as a whole.

I did love Penn, but that was a dream. Penn had the ideal qualities that I wanted in a college, and blinded I thought it would be right for me. But I was never interested in that in the first place. I never stopped to think what would happen if I was wrong. What if I was wrong about its students, about its opportunities, about the Writers House? I never stopped to ask myself what I would do if all my visions and hopes were shattered. All I cared about were its specific traits, and thinking that these traits would bring me happiness, I neglected to find out if the college as a whole really would.

Like the other colleges, Penn didn't inspire me. Penn didn't strike my curiosity. It didn't make me more inquisitive about itself or myself. I didn't care about what happened to me. And maybe in the end, I didn't care about Penn. Yes, Benjamin Franklin inspired me, but it was he who nurtured and will continue nurturing my mind and the essence of my being. And the Writers House isn't completely exclusive to Penn's students. If that was what I truly wanted from Penn, I don't need to attend Penn to get it.

Instead, the only school I really ever cared about was BU. There was a difference between the time I visited BU and the times I visited all the other schools. I actually cared. I actually cared about what would happen at this school, and I actually cared about what would happen to myself. I was interested, inquisitive about what the BU could offer me and how I could grow as a person. At the time, I was inspired.

I had so many questions. Even now, I still have questions. And when you love a person, do you not want to know everything about him? And I wanted to know. I really wanted to know. I wanted to know if BU was right for me, and do you know why I wanted to know? Because I actually loved BU, and this love was truthful and genuine.

BU is by no means perfect, for everyone, for anyone, and even for me, but it will help me develop as a person; I know. My inquisitiveness proves that a seed was planted within me and has been waiting for sunshine and water to grow. Desperate to escape the darkness that consumes me now, it hasn't stopped reaching for the light. And this acceptance was my sunshine, and the scholarship the water that is urging me to grow.

And I will grow. I know. Past the measly, superficial flower, I'll blossom into the grand tree that revels in all its glory.

April Fool

I think I know why colleges tried to give out decisions yesterday instead of today.

ArtsyFartsyFriend (AFF): Oh... guess what...
Me: What?
AFF: [Solemnly.] I got rejected from RISD (her top choice school).
Me: Oh no! [Throws myself forward to hug her.] It's okay! It's okay!
AFF: April FOOLS'!
Me: What? Oh my god, you got in? [Throws myself forward again and shakes her violently.] CONGRATULATIONS! I'm so happy for you!
AFF: No, I didn't hear back yet. I find out today.

Biiiitch.

But seriously now, I just can't help but find the irony in the situation.

I worked so hard the past four years and I couldn't even get into one of my top choice schools. In fact, my fellow classmates (AKA the "honors students") all suffered the same fate, and were waitlisted or straight out denied from the Ivies and other top-tier schools. What makes things even more bloody hilarious is that despite the number of students going to Ivies this year from this graduating class, I believe they're all going on SPORTS SCHOLARSHIPS (and that said, I would say only one of them really deserves to go on an academic standpoint... but isn't that the standpoint that should be used anyway?).

Honestly... who knew such a stressful, burdensome high school career would end so shittily. It's not to say I'm not grateful for the options I have from BU and Bing, but who the hell works so hard to end up in a place they could have been without forsaking various things and making several sacrifices. Scholarships are nice, but what's an amount of money compared to a few extra years of life I probably don't have anymore due to my stress levels and unhealthy sleeping patterns?

And it's times like this when I wonder if I've truly made the right decisions in life. In planning for my future, I ultimately forsook the present, and suffered as a result. That's not to say I don't have any good memories or that I'm not grateful for all the friendships I have or had with people, but sometimes I wonder if I should have pursued what I wanted in life instead of what I thought was right at the time.

Albeit, I don't know what I want in life. I don't know, and that's the one thing I do know. Ironically, as my friend's juicebox happened to quote from Seneca (I know, weird), "If a man does not know to what port he is steering, no wind is favorable to him."

And I planned to bring this problem with me to college. I applied to liberal arts schools that were strong in the sciences but had writing outlets. But ultimately, as I realize now, my decisions were ranked based on the quality of these writing outlets. Penn was my first choice not only because I like Philly and love Benjamin Franklin, but because the prestigious Kelly Writers House was on campus. And I imagined, hoped, dreamed of myself sitting on its couches, clicking away at a laptop, writing, writing, writing away in the security of that quaint house sheltered in shade.

Yet of course that won't be. And now I've been relegated to a city and town I don't love per se, yet I'm not basing my decision on anything that came to mind before. Sure, it seems logical to take into account money, the number of opportunities I'll have (such as getting early placement in a lab), and the prestigiousness of the programs. But at the same time, if scholarships lessened the money issue, if I perhaps don't even want to enter med school, and if perhaps despite the prestigiousness I'm not happy with where I am, would I not be making the worst decision of my life? And where does the writing factor in? Of course I'll write no matter what, but where will it blossom and where could it potentially fail? Where can I grow as a writer?

Is that the logical thing to do? My high school career was the logical thing to do, and look where it got me. What is logic anyway? What is logical? Or instead, should I rely more on impulse, that innate urge nature instilled all humans with, our initial method of survival?

Is it okay to listen to my heart, if I can relocate the beat I've suppressed for so many years? If ignoring my own feelings made me feel this way now, then maybe listening to them will lead me to a better ending. Maybe listening to them will lead me to the success I was never able to obtain from my years in science and research.

And in the end, I was a fool to think I could compete with the country's brightest minds. I was a fool to think I could compete with the great minds of my own class. I was a fool to think I could beat the alumni/legacy/connections/money/sports system. I was a fool to think I could get into Penn. I was a fool to ever wear their red and blue. I was a fool to do what I realized I no longer wanted to do. I was a fool to never do what I actually wanted to do.

Today's the day. And I'm nothing but that.