Dating, Engagement, Marriage Oh My!

I just found out yesterday that my roommate for the past 2 yrs got engaged!! She's been dating the guy for three years, so I kind of expected them to take their relationship to the next level, but I guess I never expected it to be this soon. They seem to be very happy with their relationship, so props to them for wanting and willing to take that next big step. Congratulations.

With all of this, it warrants a philosophical discussion. When I first learned about her engagement, instantly, I felt sooo old, shitt dood, she's younger than me and just got engaged, and I'm sitting here 20 and still single. It kind of made me feel frantic for a second, and then after a few seconds, it's like oh thank God, I am 20 and still single!! phew. Everyone go through these things at different speeds, and I guess I just really want to take my time and need my own space. It makes me realize and appreciate how much there is still ahead of me, how much more that I can still look forward to. It is kind of exciting. My journey has just started, and there is still so much to go, still so much to explore.

Personally, even if I did have a boyfriend that I've been dating for 3 yrs, getting engaged and getting married in a few years is just totally not feasible for me. It is just too romance movie/novel ish, and it simply doesn't appeal to me. I guess its like omgg, so cuteee awwwww, marrying your college sweetheart or whatever, but I'm really not a sucker for those kinds of things. At the end of the day, it simply isn't something that I am seeing in the near future. Maybe in like 10 years. I don't think I have even matured enough to handle something as important as an engagement/marriage at this point in my life. I still have so much to learn about myself and still much to work on. Also, there is a part of me that simply isn't ready to give up my freedom just yet to settle for something long term. There is a part of me that doesn't want to grow up just yet. Oh the sweetness of youth and freedom.

So with all of this, I've concluded that I am fine with the way I am. Really.

Here it is to the rest of my journey and yours. Cheers.

I am on a total emotional and physical overload.
I am so upset my blood is boiling. With everything piling up, I feel like just breaking down and shutting down.
It's so hard to push forward on your own when you have nobody backing you up.

Overload

-Only 2 more weeks. I am nervous, scared, obsessed.
-I am sleep deprived. I am running on 2 bottles of 5 hr energy shots per day. 8333% of vitamin B12 and 2000% of vitamin B6 and caffeine gives you radioactive green pee. I don't know how much time I'm actually saving by having to run to the bathroom every 20 minutes.
-I just want to focus on my MCAT but I can't. I have so much shit I need to take care of before I leave for Guatemala.
-need to haul ass to SF because the Guatemala consulate people don't pick up the phone. Need to apply for visa. Need to get all my vaccinations. Need to buy travel insurance. Need to get documents in by the end of this week. Need to buy supplies for Guatemala. Need to pack for Guatemala.
-need to do practice problems until I am blue in the face
-NEED TO KEEP MY SANITY

Fashion

So I am having this new found obsession with fashion, yeah yeah, I know I'm not that stylish or whatever, but I really appreciate fashion now as a form of art. I understand the fact that fashion is a business, and designers need to make clothes that people would want to wear and therefore the clothes must be saleable, it must make money! But the fact that money plays such an important role in fashion in a way degrades fashion as a form of art. I've been watching The Fashion Show, basically a copy of Project Runway, and there is one contestant on the show that I think is phenomenal. His designs are very conceptual, they are very three dimensional, very architectural, but his designs are not always appreciated by the judges because they are too conceptual, too complicated to understand, too nonconventional, too abstract. I just think it's such a shame that one's artistic vision has to be restrained and controlled by the standards of the fashion industry. Just because you wouldn't wear it doesn't mean its not good art, just because you wouldn't put a certain painting in your house doesn't mean it's not a good painting. Kinda sucks, just another way how money infiltrates the minds of people and everything in this society.

Here are some of his pieces from his final collection. His theme was indigenous people wearing western clothing. Very very interesting. Not very wearable, but I have so much appreciation for it.



The more "wearable" pieces

<---I REALLY like this one




Okay, that is all. Backt to MCAT

Crazy night

I went to see Death Cab for Cutie last night, one of my favorite bands of all times, yet it was probably one of the worst concert experience I've ever had. I smoked weed for the first time a couple of months ago, and surprisingly I really liked the experience. I was with a friend I could trust, we were both just chillin at his apartment, and we were just done with finals. It was such a relaxing time, what can I say, it was pretty awesome. Last night, the second time, that was really something else.....

I smoked before the concert, and during the concert, I smoked out of a joint that was being passed around from a stranger.... That was probably not a smart thing to do. It was probably just way too much weed in one day.

My head was spinning the entire time. Whatever I said made no sense. I had trouble formulating my thoughts and my sentences. Whatever other people said made no sense. I had the attention span of an ant. I couldn't understand anything, and so I stopped talking. My mouth started getting really dry, and my saliva was foamy and disgusting. I was surrounded by strangers at the concert, and I started to feel very paranoid. I thought I was going to pass out from dehydration, and having to stand for three hours, I thought I was going to fall over, no one would be there to catch me, and crack open my skull. When Death Cab finally came on, I could not focus on the performance. The entire time my eyes were fixated on the little sign outside that said "first aid station." All I thought about was the first aid station and picturing myself lying on one of those skinny white clinic beds with 1000 bottles of Gatorade, oh how much I wanted that fuckin Gatorade. I saw this guy in front of me drinking this cold bottle of water. I knew it was cold because it was foggy from the condensation. I just watched him...drinking that water one sip at a time. I counted how many bottles he drank. He drank TWO bottles. In my head, I thought maybe I could ask him if I could have some water, but I didn't, I just watched him, one sip at a time. By that time, my throat was parched. I thought about leaving to get water, but I knew if I left, I wouldn't be able to make it back inside. I couldn't stand my thrist anymore, so I asked the guy who passed me the joint if he had any water, and oh my god he did. I took a sip of the water, and before I swallowed it, for a second I freaked out because I thought it was vodka, but fortunately, it wasn't. It was actually water. That couple of gulps of water saved me for maybe...10 seconds, and then I was thirsty again. DAMN

The high also made the music very very intense. In a good way and in a bad way. I dont know. The lighting felt so freaking insane. Death Cab had this crazy back drop where they had those weird lighting swirls and squiggles moving around flashing, and I seriously thought I was going to get blinded by all of that and have a seizure. The sound was also very intense. It literally made my ears throb.

I don't know, it was all just so amazing, and so crazy, yet so shitty. I don't know. I felt so shitty after the show I can't even describe it. It was a mix of insecurity, self-consciousness, awkwardness, weirdness, paranoia, annoyance, and all sorts of other negative feelings. It really made me feel like crap. I've never felt so bad in my life. I am still trying to get over this massive headache that I woke up with.

This is so not like me. What the hell happened? I feel so stupid.

Art

So my parents came to Berkeley today to visit me as well as drop off some food. During lunch, I basically had a big discussion with my parents regarding how much influence parents should on a child in terms of developing their interest in certain areas. I've always wondered what field I would go into if my parents never really pushed me towards the sciences when I was little. Right now, I'm at Berkeley majoring in biology and trying to get into med school. How much of that is by choice? How much of that is by brutal force? How much of that is "oh fuck it, I've gone too far already I might just as well stick with it."I don't really know...

All throughout my life, I've always LOVED the fine arts, and I mean LOVEEEEE. I definitely liked the sciences, but it was genuinely a different feeling with the arts. It was perhaps more passionate, more intense, more satisfying. I've literally spent hours just sitting in one spot drawing or painting nonstop, and I absolutely enjoyed every single minute of it. Listening to music while doing it, I mean it was total bliss.

I've been developing my interest in photography, and it brings me so much excitement I can't even describe. Whenever I see photos done by well known professional photographers, I literally get chills running through my body. It is that intense. I don't think I've ever felt that way with anything else. I particularly like fashion photography, and so I started looking into fashion design and construction, and MY GOD, its like a whole new door that just popped up and I want to dive through, but I can't. I've been watching videos of fashion shows, and *drool*.

During the years that I did pursue art on the side, I've had a few pieces in art shows, won a couple of awards, got into this art program thingy ma bob, I mean yeah, it was high school, really low key stuff, but I mean it was something that I was proud of, but my parents never really cared much for.

I don't think I am talented in the arts, but I just feel like if I actually received some quality education in it, I might actually become good at it? I don't know, but I really do want to find out.

I know I will have to take at least a year off after graduation before I can go to med school, so I told my mom that it would be kind of neat for me to go to an art school and maybe pursue an associative degree in some type of art. My mom's reply was, "OH MY GOD Lisha, why do you want to do that?" eeeeeyeaaa.....then I tell her, oh how about a master's degree in education, she goes, "OH MY GOD, why do you want to do that? If you wanted to do those things, why you go to Berkeley for then?" hmm.........

I think part of my mom's fear is that if I went and pursued those things, I might like it so much that I would actually want to pursue it as a career. That is her worst fear. For my parents, they've struggled so much in their younger years, went through so much hardship in their lives that they have gotten use to the mentality that unless I'm at a 200k job, I won't be happy and that I would always be struggling financially. I simply just don't agree with that. Their mentality is kind of like that of a starving child who would stuff their face when they see food because they are always living in the fear that they might not get a next time. I just don't think that's a realistic mentality anymore. It is also that Asian mentality where math+science basically owns everything else.

At Berkeley, I see so many Asians either being pre-meds or pre-business. Like goodness gracious, can I get some fresh air here. Why are all these damn Asians alike. lol. Why are there almost no Asians in the arts and humanities? Why?? What is wrong with the arts and humanities? For all you pre-meds and pre-business people out there, why are you doing what you are doing? Is it because you are stuck, like me, in this unrelenting cycle to please our stubborn Asian parents?

I have SO MUCH respect for the very few people that I do know who are purusing in the arts and humanities. I admire them for doing something that I have not been able to do, and perhaps will never be able to do. To defy my parents, to defy myself, to defy this Asian tradition or whaver you want to call it.

I'm not saying I'm unhappy at where I am in life. I'm not saying that I hate what I do. Hell, I don't even know what happiness is anymore, but I just can't really put a word to describe what I feel right now. It is not hate, it is not love. I don't know what it is. To really justify my choice in the sciences and a career in medicine, I've been trying to tie this bullshit connection between art and science, art and medicine for years, is there even such a connection? Hahaha, yet another question posed that has no answer.

My Choice My Burden

For a temporary moment, I found refugee. I found happiness and excitement, even if it was just a tiny glimpse, the most impalpable drop that left with the slightest tingle on my lips before it escaped. It was what kept me sane. It gave me something to look forward to every single day. It brought me out of this internal struggle that I've had for so long, and now I finally feel free, no longer held back or pulled down. I looked for you.

I looked for me. I find myself to always end up in the same situation. My life feels like a broken record sometimes that keeps on playing the same thing again and again. For once I thought maybe I'll play a better song. For once, it was a better a song, and like a song, it has an ending. Too bad that I can't put it on repeat.

My naivety, my stupidity, my personality, my character, my burden. They have become an inevitable part of me that I can not let go of. It is a burden because it is heavy, filled with years of personal experiences that I can't help but look back at once in awhile. It is heavy, it weighs me down, but I think I kind of like it. I rather carry it than to be empty handed.

And so with me, I carry your dreams and aspirations, I carry my false hopes, I carry my burden.