some food for thought

What I Don't Like About Avatar, in summary.

Yes, it's a movie about environmentalism and a warning about materialism, but it's also a movie about imperialism and thus race. Whether it was a conscious decision or not, whether it was epic and visually breathtaking or not, movies are carriers of messages both deliberate and subconscious and they deserve the right to be discussed and criticized.

Moreover, why on earth do we assume all aliens have to be human-shaped with the same kind of inherent values? This bothers me a lot - far more than it bothers other people and I'm not sure why. I'll ruminate on that.

This movie rubs me wrong in so many ways, the above link is only just an introduction into why I'm not sure I can bring myself to see it.

Also, this post. Hello, epic plot-hole.


Caveat: Watch it, enjoy it, like it all you want. Be awed by the special effects. But these issues exist whether or not you want to acknowledge them and they affect MY opinion, which you don't have to agree with. Just don't dismiss either the issues or my opinion, yeah?

i'm building these castles with words

Looking back over my writing (and comparing it to what I've read of other people's writings), it's unquestionable that I have a fairly distinctive writing style. The problem I have with it at times is that I'm not sure I like it.

I think I have a decent grasp on my strengths and weaknesses, or at least how I perceive them (though I'm not sure how it might come off to others):

I am good with realistic dialogue. I can make a character say something that they would conceivably say in real life, if they were that situation. I am capable of believable vernacular. On the flip side, when I'm writing humor, I apparently have enough witty one-liners and sarcasm that can carry the tone of the scene.

In continuance with that, I am good with comedic timing and punchlines. I do well with short scenes that make an impact, shaping up a few paragraphs of a situation to conclude with an - oh. A revelation, to either the character or to the reader.

I am not good with overarching plots, pacing, subtle transitions (or else I am too subtle and obscure and the reader will totally miss what I'm trying to convey), and natural development. I am impatient with writing because I like to know where I'm going, so I often have a roadmap of where I want a story to go in my head, and I end up forcing things along without taking into consideration the pacing becomes too abrupty. I overcompensate with what I feel is a lack of progression by throwing in too-subtle foreshadowings that I'm not sure people pick up on during the actual read (and may only seem like foreshadowing to me because I know what happens later on).

I get caught up in descriptions of what people are doing or what their body language is expressing when they're speaking. I don't let the dialogue stand for itself because I know, from personal experience, that people convey unsaid things with their expressions or other small gestures - unfortunately, these tend to bog down scenes with excessive description.

I'm also not very good at describing the setting or background environment of a scene in natural, non-conspicuous ways. I tend to infodump when I remember, oh yeah, I should put in some description of this room or that building or the sky. I should give people enough details for them to get a general idea of where things are taking place instead of throwing a paragraph of text at them, because everyone can use their imagination, right? On the other hand, sometimes I want to describe a particular environment that I know readers wouldn't otherwise imagine. It's a difficult balance. I struggle with that a lot.

Another trap I am guilty of falling into is an overuse of adjectives or adverbs. I'm usually pretty good about them when I am paying attention and at editing out unnecessary ones upon reread. This is why I have to reread. I also reread to get a feel of the general flow of things because I do a generous amount of time-skipping in between scenes and sometimes that jump is not obvious, or it's incongruous or confusing.

As for plot: plot is hard. I tend not to write long things because they require having a better idea or grasp of an overarching plot than I tend to; I'm best with scenes and stories developing organically as I write, which the control freak in me does not allow to happen with longer pieces. Longer pieces demand that I know in what direction I'm heading and it all just ends up driving me crazy.

Sometimes I struggle to find new ways to say old things. I'm not averse to idioms or "clichéd" phrases, as long as they fit into the flow of the narrative (or are apt in dialogue). But sometimes I want to be creative and sometimes that just doesn't work out very well, or I am creative with one particular phrase that I like so much I can't seem to ever think of a new way to express the same sentiment, and I feel like I'm rehashing my writing with the same descriptions or metaphors. Not good.

I also tend to meta in my writing, instead of telling a story. It works, sometimes. Other times it makes me grit my teeth in frustration, but if I have to meta, I would rather do it through a thin veneer of storytelling than in essay form.

Hmm... That's all I can think of to comment on for now, so I'll stop overanalyzing my writing (it comes from writing so much lately...) and actually get back to writing. Ugh, writing is hard. But I write to improve, right?

To paraphrase Stephen King: To be a good writer, you must do two things: read a lot and write a lot.

一辈子陪你一起走下去

on virtual friendships
194w.

Sometimes I would just like to defriend everyone, delete everything, cut off all ties and access, and go live in a real world where people talk face-to-face and you can hear their laughter and feel their presence and the memories live on as more than just words and fading feelings.

People were not made for long-distance relationships. Nor were people made for facsimiles of relationships through the kilobytes and megabytes of technology. I want to feel your arms around me when we hug, without the distance of virtual silence and dead air.

I want more than different colored letters shaping words I will never hear, more than a proliferation of smiles I will never see and heart-shapes that stand in for real emotion. I want the reality of your voice and the tangibleness of a letter, a card, a photograph, under my fingers.

These words, they will last forever, but they are empty - I want the transience of you at my side, moving, breathing, always changing and never static, alive. Alive and choosing to be by my side, to be my friend.

Will you reach out your hand if I reach out mine?

what if i get lost in you?

Took my Censorship & Free Expression exam yesterday morning - and I think it went really well. There was only one small part I wasn't sure about so I BSed my way through that portion of the essay, but I think my BS was at least relevant and it wasn't a huge part, so all should be well. :D Then I had lunch with people in the courtyard and it was nice because I haven't seen people in so long, closeted away as I am at home studying for finals.

Took my Korean final without studying for it at all, lol. It went fine. I remember how uni exams were so short...only an hour! Man, I miss that. Law school exams are three, sometimes four, hours long. Ugh.

Now gearing up for cracking down on White Collar Crime and hating the fact that the urge to write always strikes me at my busiest, with the least free time. Typical.

i freakin hate not having a car

Thanksgiving was really, really nice an reminded me that I love my family so, so much. I miss them. I am so grateful for them, and all my friends. I got a slight cold while I was home but I've mostly recovered from it - a two or day thing, that wasn't too bad. Drank lots of fluids and slept - definitely helped. Now time to hunker down for exams, right? Ugh. I should stop being lazy and actually go break out my Christmas music - maybe it'll distract from the doom and gloom.

Did my Christmas cards a few days ago! Should be sent out this week, with appropriate postage. It's ridiculous, I only send cards to Extended Family and my favorite online people, so my cards are all over the place: 12 US, 9 international [4 Canada, 2 Philippines, 1 UK, 1 Singapore (usually more, but J came back to the US for uni!), 1 Australia (usually more here too, hmm) - could potentially send 2 to Korea too...]. No one at law school gets cards because I see them every day, haha, and we are just not ~sentimental~ like that, I guess. I don't know about other people, but I love Christmas cards. Email will never beat out snail mail. ♥ I am sentimental, it's all good!

Spent the past few days (sort of) outlining Transnational Litigation and some time today going over Censorship & Free Expression. I don't plan on taking that until Friday though, so I have more time. I should...review some Korean, I suppose. My oral interview's tomorrow. 저는 한국어를 몰라요... 저녁에 연습할 거예요.

Papercut. D:

status update

Mei Q. is continually unimpressed by your so-called "friendship". When you never make the first move to talk to me or spend time with me and our entire relationship relies solely on my overtures, I am left questioning whether or not you actually care and whether or not I even want to keep trying.

still waiting out this lifetime

My mom called today. Apparently we're having C and A's families over for Thanksgiving dinner... I'm not that close with either of them. It's a little strange. At least I'll see A and J on Wendesday, hopefully. I don't know if I'll get a chance to see the Huangs.

Other than Wednesday, though, my break needs to be dedicated to doing a lot of work. I'm going to have to figure out how to pack for this, considering that I don't want to bring a lot back.

Star Trek came out Tuesday on DVD, so J and I went over to D's after dinner to watch it. His roommates were occupying the TV watching college basketball, so we just hung around the kitchen table, talking and such.

We didn't get to watching Star Trek until about 11 or 11:30, but I entertained myself until then with the model of the Enterprise that came with the DVD. I totally zoomed that thing around in "warp speed". I possibly was at the mentality of a six-year-old last night. Finally getting to rewatch Star Trek was great though, because Chris Pine is delicious and I love Zachary Quinto. It's fun to rewatch things, because I saw everything in a slightly different light, knowing more about Star Trek in general than I did upon the first viewing of the movie. Little details! Knowing how things turn out! Tributes to the original series! Mmm, Captain Fine.

I think too much forced Nano writing earlier this month has turned me off writing for a while. I need a break. It could also be due to the rain and the pressure of looming finals. I wish I could get my act together regarding mail and printing things out. I also have to remember to buy Christmas cards (and collect addresses), and get on buying my brother's Christmas present.

I don't feel as organized as I'd like to be (or feel like I should be). I need more to do lists and better adherance to them and the ability to cross things off and feel accomplished.

Ugh, UNC lost to Syracuse tonight.

[x] 如果的事

She said, "We'll never be more than this." And he never knew what she meant. He forgot the words, with time, but they are brought back in a haze of alcohol three years later in a smoky, dimly-lit bar. He remembers her face, her hands, the silhouette of her back when she walks away. He remembers the empty smile she gives him the next time they meet, perfectly civil and emotionally unavailable. He's not sure even now what he should have said, or if it would have made a difference. The world continues spinning - figuratively and literally - and he realizes he's tipped off the stool in his stupor. One foot meets the ground abruptly, jerking him to a stop, and a hand catches his upper arm to steady him. He looks blankly at the figure holding him up, his anchor to this dusky reality, and his mind is working slowly but he registers the face of his friend, looking at him with concern. He wishes it were her, instead; wishes he had known the words.

还记得那场音乐会的烟火♪

This has been a particularly spacey week for me. I have been more mentally and emotionally disengaged from life than I've been in a while, I think. I take forever responding to IMs and text messages because I forget I was talking to people, and I am just not all there in any of my classes anymore - even the ones I find interesting, like Censorship or Korean. It might just be this week, or it might be the timing of the semester.

I need to update my outlines for CWCC and Copyright and start figuring out what's going with Transnational. I need to start printing things and mailing things and applying for summer internships.

I really wish my hair would grow out quicker. I've decided I'm tired of short hair and I should just stick with long hair from now on - I'm pretty girly. I might as well own up to it now. It's at that awkward length right now that is both ugly and irritating.

I have actually been napping a lot this week, either a product or a cause of all my spaciness. I'm not quite sure, but it's been a little strange. Not bad, necessarily, just unusual.

I am excited that the regular season for college basketball is finally off the ground, though! I'm also impressed with how high UNC is ranked preseason despite most of our championship team leaving for the NBA. Here's hoping we do well, still.

I love sending and receiving snail mail. Nothing can quite replace letters, and that is why I will always like cute stationery and cute pens. It brings a smile to people's faces, I think, to get little surprises in the mail. I am definitely sending out Christmas cards again this year.

I also love my family and it's been nice to be reminded of that recently.

Hey, I think, no matter what, it's going to be all right. :)

You're smiling like you've never forgotten how, wide and beautiful. There's joy in your laughter and in the way your arm slides around me, comfortable, like it's always belonged there. I can't take my eyes off you. I can't help following your every move, feeling like there's only the two of us in this big, big world.

There are these memories you'll never be able to take from me. These gorgeous, golden memories that define a lifetime of everyday epiphanies.

even if I'm born again, it's still only you

100 Some Things I Should Have Done Instead of Going to Law School

01. Gone skydiving.
-Without a parachute.
-It’s, I think, a fairly accurate analogy of going to law school.

03. Re-enacted the Bourne Trilogy.
-Any excuse for more Matt Damon in my life.
-And you know you’ve always wanted to jump from rooftop-to-rooftop in Tunisia while questioning your identity, self-worth, and future.
-This is also not a bad analogy to law school.

09. Gone around town correcting signs for inappropriate apostrophe usage’s and other speling and grammer mistake.
-People who make typoes should got to hell!

24. Hailed every van cab in New York City in hopes of getting the Cash Cab.
-Carry lots of money in the meantime because cabs in New York…not so cheap.

27. Won the lottery.

48. Gone to King’s Cross Station and ran at a wall. You know which wall.

49. Learned to understand America’s favorite pastime.
-That is, baseball. Which is different from South Korea's favorite pastime, which is apparently protesting.
-On a slightly off-topic note, I’ve always thought pastime should be spelled with two “t”s.

50. Found Waldo.

61. Gone to culinary school.

78. Ran around spoiling things for people.
-Soylent Green is people. The boat sinks. It was Earth all along. It was his sled. The slipper fits. He’s Luke’s father. They die in the end. Snape kills Dumbledore. Jesus dies. Sort of.

98. Read her poker face.



I've finally finished this list! Now to do something with it...

if i was ever yours, i never knew

Funny story: little things hurt my feelings. Weird how that happens. The end. Great story, right?

Moving on: there are two types of people who top my list of personal pet peeves. The average person may not be annoyed by them, by these two groups get my collective hate.

1. radio show hosts
2. music snobs

Not going to go into a detailed rant, but let me sum up the first by saying, "Seriously, why are they allowed to talk?" and to sum up the second by saying, "Please go die in a fire." Except not. Just. Listen to what you like and let everyone else listen to what they like because, guess what, music tastes are personal preferences and that is all okay.

Two songs recently have been looping on my iTunes: (1) 김희철 - 초별 and (2) 조규현 - 7년간의 사랑.

I guess I've always been kind of a ballad girl, if it's the right kind of ballad. Usually I say this only about Chinese ballads because those are the easiest for me to learn to sing along to but, hey, I can totally understand the titles of these Korean ballads. It's a start.

Making an effort to send out mail. Time to hie myself to the post office an acquire some stamps.

playing your violin like a ukelele

The culture of "emo" nowadays has made it impossible to have your feelings hurt without being labeled "emo" or melodramatic or just too thin-skinned. It's no longer okay to just be human and have human reactions without people telling you to "lighten up" or not take things so seriously or just to get over yourself. :/

Though, to an extent, in this situation it is applicable. "Those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter." The wisdom of Dr. Seuss is pertinent still.

You don't have to love me or the things I do, but I'd appreciate it if you would just let me be, to live my life as I do. I'm not forcing anything on you, am I?

Then again, I should also "man up" a bit. I put it out there, and that means getting judged and getting critiqued. Privacy rights are more of courtesy than a right of law when you're a public figure. (Am I a public figure? That's a weird thought. I never wanted to be famous, but to complain about problems like these is like complaining about having too much money. Um, I will never have too much money, thanks.)

On a slightly related note: I hate posting things up and discovering typos/mistakes later that I can't fix. D: It's my own fault for not proofing it beforehand but...augh. Still so sad.

My problems in this regard are shallow; don't worry about it. Hurt feelings heal and I have a guy friend who is enthusiastically reccing the Skip Beat anime at me, so that has buoyed me up slightly through amusement factor alone.

from contemplative to suicidal, in 0.8 seconds

So I have some serious issues about focusing on this Note - a large part of it stems from just not caring, but I still need to put in the work and the time and, oh, the pages. I need the pages. On a productive note, I did laundry yesterday...that's really about it.

These writing urges need to be ignored until I have my required good-faith 45 pages. Man, my work ethic, where has it gone? It's so, so hard to force myself to commit to all this work that I don't care about, don't like, and don't want to pursue after graduation.

But I should still do enough to pass, you know?

Working on a list titled "100 Things I Should've Done Instead of Going to Law School." I should publish this into a book. People like lists! I would pepper this list with wry anecdotes! It would be great. Please publish me and give me lots of money. ):

25. Gone to business school. Gone to med school.
42. Discovered the answer to life, the universe, and everything.
49. Found Waldo.

Somewhere on there I should include something about poetry as well. I spent yesterday morning talking to M and trying to rediscover the soul I had for poetry (law school's killed it). I did really enjoy Pablo Neruda's works (and it was particularly interesting to compare his original Spanish versions with the translated versions), Siegfried Sassoon, and this one sonnet by Edna St. Vincnet Millay. I think a lot of modern art and poetry is crap, and free verse is easy for many people to write, but so, so few write it well. I'm more impressed with pieces like the sonnet, where you follow form and structure and still manage to write something beautiful and creative. Over the centuries, people have managed to figure out what sounds good, okay? Work with that, and make it your own. The same applies to music. (4'33" is four and a half minutes of silence, and is a piece of crap.)

AHHHHHH JUST CHECKED MY EMAIL THIS MORNING SO MUCH IS GOING ON THIS WEEKEND, MOOT COURT ORAL ARGUMENTS MON & TUES I DON'T HAVE TIME TO PREPARE FOR THIS, ALL OF THIS IS FOR ONE FUCKING CREDIT AND FUCKING GLOBAL AHHH. /WRISTS

these farewells weren't inevitable, but there's no going back

I wonder if you would miss me if we weren't friends. There seem to be plenty of people you've lined up to replace me. I would miss you. But I can't force myself to like people, so I guess it's just not going to work out.

It would be different if I were different. It's always that way, isn't it? It's always my fault.

I guess it's okay. I've more or less resigned myself to it. This is just how I roll, apparently: all or nothing, no middle ground, no compromise. The alternative is making myself sick with unhappiness, and as much fun as that has been for the past few months, the past twenty-some years of my life...I think I'm going to have to go with the other choice this time.

I hope you'll miss me. But there really isn't anything I can do if you don't.

(I do hope, though, that you are happy.)

you must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you

It's a little ridiculous how happy writing can make me. It makes or breaks my moods: not writing, or writing poorly, can make me so frustrated and listless, whereas managing to write something, however long, that I am pleased with...well, that can make my day or night.

I predict many mood swings come November and NaNoWriMo.

Granted, I need to finish this term paper and a 45-page draft of my Note before then - this endless writing will eat up my life. But, like I was saying to L - what needs to get done needs to get done.

Let's keep on truckin'.

a rose by any other name

I was thinking last night (though it would more accurately be termed "far too early this morning") about my name. I came to the conclusion that I am tired of my name. I'm tired of what (who) it stands for, and for the history associated with it. I'm tired of being me, of being judged and perceived by my name alone.

This applies only to the "English version" of my name, I suppose. I hate seeing Mei, because it's not mine, it's not me: it is word used by others when they talk about me. It is a label, of what I've said, what I've done, and who I am.

I can see and hear 齐眉 without feeling the same resentment or oppression, because that is still mine; I have limited the access to who gets to call me that, and the memories and emotions associated with that name are, thus far, good. Imperfect, certainly, but still mine. It is still me; I am still 齐眉, your 女儿，姐姐，朋友，小公主. (想我妈？)

J asked me if I was angry when he was driving me home at 5 in the morning. No, I told him, I'm just tired.

It's true. I'm not angry. I'm just tired...of being who I am under this name Mei, of being judged for who I am and what I've done. I'm tired of not being able to see people because of who I am, not being able to care the way I used to because of what I've done, not being able to live true to myself because of what someone else expects to see. I'm tired of feeling ugly, inside and out, and for feeling like a failure without a direction.

But these are things we cannot change, aren't they?

I am still me, even if I am tired of being me. Such is life, unfair, and we just have to make the best of it. Maybe, in time, I can redefine "Mei". Maybe, in time, it can be mine again, something (someone) I am proud to be.

In brighter news, however, it is gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous outside, all yellow leaves against brown-black bark, sunlight filtering through the branches right outside my apartment. Look up.

words are the music notes on my composition sheet

Have I figured out yet what I want out of life? It is easy to ask questions, but finding the answers is a little harder. Can I tell you what I don't want? "Whatever left, however improbable, must be the truth." But that applies only to eliminating the impossible things.

It is impossible to imagine a life where I don't write, or don't feel the constant itch under my skin to write. It is impossible to imagine a life where I don't crave reading, where I don't admire a gorgeous turn of phrase. Writers are people for whom writing is more difficult than normal people, maybe because we care too much what we sound like. Maybe it could be easier, but I don't think it could ever be a chore when it is a labor of love.

I can't live my life without thinking, "Oh, I could write that. I could write it this way." My mind describes scenes without my conscious realization; I search for the right words, the right emotions, that could play out in the scene that is my life. I think about how one scene might lead to another, cause and effect, how I might format everything for the most emotional impact. Is that normal? I can't imagine not living like that, like every day is something that can be turned into art.

You'd think I would be able to write better blog entries if that were the case. I should put these descriptive urges to use, practice with a summation of What I Did Today. I have always been inclined towards slice-of-life vignettes, in any case. But for all that I see my life through the writer's equivalent of a camera lens (I wonder if this is how photographers feel, I wonder if it is something they can ever set aside, or if they even want to), it can be a struggle to show that viewfinder, that perspective, to someone else. Writing is an intensely personal experience for me, because it involves not only the emotions I want to convey through words, but also the emotions I feel as I write. For someone who isn't me - can they ever truly experience what I do? See what I do?

I should practice more though, shouldn't I? If it's a hardship, a struggle, then I should only work harder to overcome it.

How many ways can you say that the world is painted in red-and-gold leaves, vibrant against the wet gray sky and ground? How many ways can you say, "This world makes me feel," when you look out the window at the sky, and the trees, at the cars and people and rain and world?

Some feelings you just can't put words to, it's true. But there are so many things you can, if you try. If you find the right words, the right analogy, the right phrasing.

I wonder if music is like this to some people.

[x] we were never meant to be (we just happened)

we were never meant to be (we just happened)
PG, 550 words

sometimes she thinks she shouldn't be this happy - but that's stupid. everyone should be happy. it's just, she never expected to be so happy. she never expected to end up here, her chest tight with joy that feels like it's going to burst out of her with wings. she never expected all these smiles and all this laughter and all this warmth when she rolls into his arms at night and counts the shadows his lashes cast on his cheek.

she's a little afraid she's going to wake up and find out it's all been a dream, or that she's going to blink and everything will dissolve before her eyes like an illusion. it's terrifying but at the same time it's thrilling, every time her blood rushes in her ears and her heart rate doubles and triples and she falls all over again, into the warmth of his smile.

love is all these songs she never stops singing, all the romance books she's secretly read. love is grand gestures and sappy movies he confesses to watching. love is sunshine and flowers and chocolates on the right days, walks in the first snow, and every other cliché she has never really understood and has never really bothered with.

love is all these stories of once-upon-a-time and happily-ever-after, fairy tales and princesses and the knights who rescue them. it's every cheesy lyric that's ever been written into song, about love keeping you warm, love keeping you safe.

she doesn't know if she believes in these meant-to-bes, these promises of forever that the world seems to think love is made of. all she knows is that she doesn't understand it, this happiness she has with him. she doesn't know if they'll be together later, much less forever; she doesn't know if they should be together now.

she wonders about the little things - if they should hold hands in public, if her parents will like him. she wonders if they will have a life together, take a vacation together, write postcards and letters and sign them together (two names linked with an ampersand). she wonders if they can sing together, voices blending and harmonizing, and write a song just for them.

she doesn't know what the future will bring, doesn't know if this scary, thrilling feeling in her chest will ever fizzle and fade. she doesn't know if she'll ever stop being this happy but, she realizes, she doesn't care.

because (once-upon-a-time) she used to wonder if he would kiss her back. once-upon-a-time, she used to wonder if she was imagining the way those arms held her close or the way those lips whispered her name, like a secret. once-upon-a-time, she used to wonder and daydream and hope a whole other series of what ifs (what if he loves me? what if he doesn't? what if i tell him?).

sometimes she is terrified of how happy she is, with no guarantees, nothing more concrete than an arm over her shoulder and her name in his smile. but she takes a chance on the what ifs anyway.

it doesn't matter if they were never meant to be, because they ended up here anyway. and that's what counts.

childhood ambitions of growing up

Q: What do you want to be when you grow up?
A: Happy.

2009/10/01: 60年的国庆

你是我的故国，我的乡土。我会一辈子祝福我优美的中国。

国庆节快乐.
Happy 60th anniversary, China!♥

love is a relay; happiness is the baton

So even I think it's ridiculous what an emokid I've been lately. So I am not as happy-go-lucky as I was last year, so what? I can still the make the most out of my life this year. So I'm not cut out for law school, so what? I can still work hard. I still will work hard. Or at least try hard enough to not fail out of classes; I figure passing enough classes to graduate with a JD is a good-as-any goal for now.

I should really be focused on finding something (paying) to do this summer. That and actually writing something truly worthwhile. Well, there are many definitions of "worthwhile" and I don't think what I've been writing up until now is worthless, god, no; I would've probably gone insane without some form of writing in my life. But I'd like to make a concentrated effort on something long, complete, and cohesive.

There is NaNoWriMo, but that's not for another month. I should definitely put some thought into what I want to write 50,000 words of though.



In other topics, I really enjoy the weather this week: a little chilly in the mornings, brisk and sunny all day long. I don't even mind that the sun sets earlier, not too much; this is lovely autumn weather and I am happy if we just stay here. Naturally, that means we won't get to keep it for long but...I will enjoy it while it's around.

I've also determined that if I feel like crap inside, I need to make an effort to not look like crap outside, because then I'll just end up more unhappy. Feeling cute and pretty is such a girly thing, but it does help with confidence boosts, and those are definitely something a girl needs when she is having one of those days.

I seriously do not know who's reading over at UCLA. Hello? Hi?

[x]

when the words that make up who you are scatter
into piles
how do you know which pieces
are you
and which pieces
are writing someone else's story?

sometimes being an INFJ is hard, when no one gets you

I keep thinking it must be nice to be like J...friends with everyone. Enough time to be friends with everyone; enough energy to make the effort, and easy-going enough to make it uncomplicated. I don't know what changed this year - maybe it's just that I'm so busy, so I never have the energy. Maybe it's just that I'm not Korean enough to hang out with the Koreans, or Chinese enough to hang out with the LLMs, or nice enough to hang out with the people I thought were my friends.

Well, it'd be unfair to say they were no longer friends...but it's like there's this expectation that I'm nice and friendly and will make the effort and take the initiative like I did last year. Why is there this expectation? I do want to be nice and friendly and all that, but...it feels so much harder this year. It feels like there are complications left and right, and imminent drama I never wanted and am valiantly doing my best to ignore. It feels like I'm losing people because we're all so busy, we all have our own small groups and our own directions...

And it feels like I'm losing people because I'm not as nice and friendly and outgoing as I was last year. Which seems unfair to me. I can't be perfect; I can't be positive all the time. I wish I could be. I wish I had more energy, or that I didn't feel like I was trying and getting nowhere; I wish I could stay happy and energetic in the face of that but - but I'm human, and I get discouraged when I feel like I try and get nowhere. Maybe I am trying less than I did last year. Maybe I am just tired. Can you fault me for that?

It feels like I'm the only one expected to make an effort; that if I fail, it's my fault. But friendships are a two-way thing, aren't they? I can't make new friends if they aren't receptive. I can't keep friendships if they don't make an effort to maintain them too.

I guess...I wish I were a better person. I wish I had more positive energy, that I was still nice and likable and all that. I wish I had a purpose in life.

I hate feeling like I'm losing people. I hate feeling like I don't know what the hell I'm doing.

Little joys, I still have them, but where is my big picture?

hey, did you know?

I think some people don't believe me when I tell them I am actually a very mean person. It's true that, for all I complain (read: bitch and moan) about the world, I'm generally a pretty optimistic person who believes the best in people.

But when I get in the mood, or am put in certain situations, I am very mean. I am passive-aggressive and snide about it, and not that subtle if I don't want to be.

It's a fault. And one I'm not sure how to go about correcting because, oh, you know what? I don't really want to get over it.

Because sometimes I just don't like you and I want to be mean about it.

[x] beautiful

('cause you are so) beautiful
PG, 357 words

her eyeliner's smudged from the tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes that she refused to let fall. she rubs at her eyes and her fingertips come away sooty. she is better than this; she will not cry over this.

it's silly, and it's sad, but she wonders if he still finds her beautiful like this, when she is imperfect in every little way: her hair stringy around her face, her skin blemished, her eyes red from tears she won't cry and half a cold that hasn't quite gone away yet. she feels miserable and thinks she looks it too, which makes her heart sink just that little bit more. it's not that she wants to be a beauty queen or a model; she just wants to feel liked (wanted, desirable), and she wonders if that is possible still when she's at her worst.

she misses the way he used to hold her, arms tight around her as he whispers, "hey beautiful," like he was so lucky to have her. she misses how he looked at her, how he kissed her, how he made her feel, just for a little while, like she was the prettiest girl in the world. the only one he would care about and love and cherish.

it's stupid and she blinks rapidly (tears, stupid) as she reminds herself that she was the one who chose to push him away. it's not going to work out, she's not ready for this, this isn't what she wants... every reason and excuse that tumbled from her lips, she remembers, and regrets a little.

it's for the best, she knows at the bottom of her heart, but a part of her will always miss being, briefly, his number one.

she closes her eyes and presses the heels of her palms against them, squeezing back the stray emotions. she is better than this. she will not cry over this.

she has a future, she reminds herself. she has her dreams. she will find someone else, when the time is right, when she is ready for it.

and she will be beautiful to him, too.

2009.09.23

what if you just fall into a ditch and die?

I hate my Copyright class. We spent a good half hour today debating whether or not silence (i.e., recording silence) is copyrightable.

NO, IT ISN'T.

For a variety of legal reasons, all brought up in the first five minutes of this debate, that people then spent the rest of the half hour rehashing. Oh my god, shut up, why are you wasting my life?

The thing is, my class is full of such arrogant douchebags who just like to hear themselves talk and have such attitudes when they speak (like, duh, of course I'm right, how could anyone believe any other opinion but mine), that it made me want to argue against them, for the copyrightability of silence.

And silence is not copyrightable.

I'm low-protectionism anyway (how could I be otherwise?). But this was a fucking waste of my time, just like every. other. Copyright. class. ever.

is it writing? is it art?

(They say, find a day job, write on the side, support yourself until you are so successful that you can quit your day job. But they don't take into account that writing takes a huge amount of creative, mental, and emotional energy - all of which your day job can drain out of you. What can you produce that is good, that is full of heart and soul and story, after a long, tedious, dry day of work? Those who say that are practical, but where does practicality come in to writing? Writing is an art, and does art leave room for practicality? Or is it something deeper, more innate, more in tune with nature - wild, raw, free - the need for expression?)

home sweet home

Back in the U.S.! China was ridiculously lovely, exciting, down-to-earth - so much to love, so much to miss. I am striving to go back next summer. :)

Not too much to update for now - at home for the moment and enjoying it, but flying back to St. Louis on Sunday to move in to a new apartment, get ready for school, APALSA, etc. It'll be a busy time and even though I swear to everyone I'm still in permanent D: mode about law school, it will also be sort of nice to start up a new routine and get into the new classes.

One last thing being: heartwaters@twitter. Add if you'd like!

preparation for travels abroad

I'm going to be in Beijing this summer for a public interest legal-aid internship. I'll be leaving tomorrow and gone until Aug 3. I'll be keeping a travel/work blog while I'm in Beijing, over at Travel Well These Waters.

As things stand, I'm not sure what my free time/internet time looks like, since I will be working most of the day, and I want to go out and explore some nights as well. Weekends will be free at least! There are eight other interns from the U.S. working with me, mostly from other law schools, one from mine, and hopefully we'll get along well enough to go out together. :)

I'm excited about the internship, especially since it's my first prolonged stay in China (especially on my own); previously, I've only visited for fun or with family. This will be my first real experience "living" in China, and it will give me a good idea for whether it's to my taste or not, which will weigh in my considerations for future jobs (do I want to live in China? would I mind?). The big concern right now is, as it is worldwide, the H1N1 virus. Personally, I don't think it's terribly worrisome (the actual flu is not terrible and the normal yearly flu kills more), but acting governments do have to respond to public outcry and fear, naturally, by instilling certain preventative measures regarding international travel. This means that customs forms will be carefully checked, additional health inspections have been put in place, and you run the risk that if anyone on your flight has symptoms of the flu (any flu, really), the entire plane will be quarantined. I expect China to be especially wary of flights coming from the U.S. or Canada, as these countries have had the highest rates of infection outside of Mexico (China currently only has three reported cases).

My mom, who flew to China a week ago, has kept me updated on what to expect, so that at least is reassuring, going into the situation somewhat armed with knowledge. I'm a little worried about what might happen should the entire plane be quarantined, but I figure as long as I don't have the flu, no matter the delay, I will have to be released at some point...it may delay the beginning of my internship and cause more of a hassle, but it will hardly ruin my entire summer.

I'm not sure if the rest of the world has instigated such stringent health inspections for international flights, but it's something to keep in mind for anyone traveling abroad this summer. Basic preventative measures of getting the flu: same as always! Wash your hands with soap or clean with alcohol wipes, especially after being in public and touching public surfaces. Cover your mouth when you cough. Um, eat well and sleep well, because those are both incredibly beneficial to boosting your immune system. I feel like a mom, orz.

I think I should be fine - I speak fluent conversational Mandarin (does that make sense? lol) and I know people in Beijing who should be able to help out. Hopefully, after the first week there, and I've showed no signs of carrying a horrible infectious flu from the sickly West, I should be able to go out and about with no problems.

so i'm the cat

fuck fuck fuck and more

Incredibly frustrated, stressed, and tired. Prone to crying at the smallest thing. It feels like there are endless things to do and I can't take the first step towards accomplishing them until I'm over this emotional block and hurdle. I want to throw a tantrum instead of doing anything productive, even though it would serve only to make me more frustrated.

I hate technology, I hate this internet connection, I hate having to see you, I hate not being able to see you, I hate having to write, not being able to write, I hate not accomplishing things I was supposed to accomplish yesterday, and I hate it even more when it's out of my control.

I miss you. I miss you so fucking much, and I don't know if you get that. I'm so fucking stressed and unhappy and that always makes me want to swear up a storm, or at least use the word fuck a lot: fuck this life, fuck you all, fuck this fuckass piece of fucking shit.

I think I'll just curl up in bed and cry. That's right. I going to be Emo with a capital E, get over yourselves. Sorry I feel so much that apparently whenever I feel down at all, I get slapped with a label. Fuck you.

This isn't fair. I just want this to be fixed. Or for me to not feel this way, helpless and strained and under so much pressure (from what? from what?); I just want it to go away so I can deal with my life again.

I fucking hate things out of my control that fuck up my life.

be open to learning from life

Yesterday, I flew home from St. Louis to Raleigh. As I got onto the regional jet (a very small plane), the blonde flight attendant was standing by the open cockpit door, eating something off a styrofoam plate and chatting with the pilot. My initial reaction was to be annoyed, because I think if you're going to be in the service industry, you should do your job well, and that means smiling and being polite no matter who you deal with. Having been in the service industry (food, at least, not quite a flight attendant - though I have considered that as an alternative life path, because in Asia at least it is a well-respected, decently-paying job where you are only any good when you are young and beautiful, but I digress), I expect people to at least smile and express some sort of welcome. It's not that difficult.

My flight was full of middle-aged North Carolinians, eager to fly home. A number of them were also Carolina Hurricane (hockey) fans, and were chatting happily about the game that night against Boston. As the flight attendant came down the aisle to prepare for take-off, she stopped at the seat in front of mine where the man is getting text messages on the score from a friend at the game.

"Now, sir," she said mock-severely, "you should have put that away already!"

This turned into a good-natured ribbing, where the man offered to pay the pilot $1 per update on the game and she laughed and said that he doesn't need the money.

Later in our flight, the captain welcomed us to our flight over the intercom, and threw in a little nod of recognition to the Hurricanes fans on board. It made me smile, because suddenly the flight was much more friendly.

As the flight continued, Missy, the flight attendant, continued joking around with the man in front of me. I began to realize I had misjudged her, because she was actually very nice, and much more personable than many a flight attendant I've come across. She was very attentive while passing out drinks, as well.

Halfway through the flight, the captain announced an update on the game: despite a 2-0 start for Boston, the score was now 2-1. The 'Canes had scored.

The man in front of me pumped his fist. "Yes!" he exclaimed.

And it was about then that I realized I was hiding a smile, and that I liked the Southern mentality of being hospitable, being friendly to strangers, and generally making nice. While I am an excellent Northerner in that I can ignore people sitting next to me except for the briefest "Excuse me", it makes me happy inside when people are more than just polite to each other, but actually friendly. It restores a little faith in humanity, and reminds me that, no matter how much people can plain suck sometimes, people can also be incredible.

So I learned on my short one and a half hour flight last night that I shouldn't make snap judgments about people, or should at least be open to changing my mind and admitting I was wrong about someone. I learned that I like friendly people, and that it generally applies to Southerners (despite my also excellent Northerner gripe about the South; sometimes I pretend to be elitist). I learned that I really do consider North Carolina home. Not just the place I've lived the longest, or the place my family lives, but home. In all its connotations.

The day before that, M and I were talking about New York, and how he loves it because it's busy and alive. He complained that when he goes back to Maryland, there's nothing to do anymore. "Oh," I said, "there's really not that much to do in North Carolina either, when I think about it. But I still love it."

He looked at me. "Well," he said, "that's because it's home."

我们永远不会忘记

One year ago, remember the day.

永远祝福中国.

a number (4) of distractions

While working on this write-on, I’ve been distracted by some things recently.

01. Food/recipe blogs. I’ve had this strange urge to cook or bake a lot recently (which I’ve only partially accomplished), but I’ve been looking at a lot of pictures of foods. The large websites with people submitting their recipes are not as helpful or personal as the individual food blogs, I’ve discovered, especially because, with the latter, people can comment with their own experiences with and alterations to the recipe.

My favorite food blog so far, I think, that I discovered just today is this blog. I'm also a fan of this LJ baking community: http://community.livejournal.com/bakebakebake. Mostly I like looking at the desserts, though I doubt I'd commit to a lot of them. (I'm not a huge fan of cakes/sweet things/frosting. I lack a sweet tooth and I tend only to crave small amounts of sugar or chocolate occasionaly - say, certain times of the month. There are a few things I will always like though, probably because I get them so rarely: cheesecake (original) and tiramisu (made well).)

This blog is also nice with a large variety. Just Bento has delicious and cute recipes for bentos, which one day I may try, if I ever acquire a bento box...

Right now, I'm craving potatoes au gratin like crazy. Damn you, J, for not liking things with cheese. Probably it's better that I don't run out and spend more money on potatoes and cheese though... I still need to find another use for buttermilk.

02. Windows 7. I want to try it out so badly, but installing it on a computer running XP just takes too much (technical) work and I'm lazy and, currently, very easily frustrated by tech stuff. (I still need to reformat my baby laptop and, goddammit, I'll probably just buy an external DVD drive and make my dad do the work when I'm home.)

I'm also not a fan of how the Windows 7 Release Candidate will allow you to try it only until March (then starts shutting down your computer every 2 hours until you buy an officially released version, fuck you) and also requires you to wipe out your user files before installing the official release.

But oh I do like shiny things, and Windows 7 is quite that. It's gotten a lot of good reviews, too; the consensus is that it's much better than Vista.

On second thought, I might actually install it onto my baby laptop (which is longer than using "netbook" but cuter, I can't help it! I should name it...maybe after I'm done being angry with it) if it'll save a reformatting. That's the computer I want to take with me to China this summer anyway. I can try it out and see.

03. PageFour. Oh god, I'm a total sucker for shiny new things with organization and tabs. Tabs! I'm all over this. I'm trying this out right now. I'll let you know how it goes.

04. Apartment-hunting. Still looking but for the moment I can say I'm a big fan of places that include all (or most) utilities in the rent. I also am a big fan of the washer/dryer set being either in the unit or at least on the same floor. (Paying for laundry with quarters is still a pain, because ugh, saving and hunting for quarters - but not having to haul laundry down the stairs will be a big improvement.) One of the things I'm also looking for (because I just don't care that much about the size of my room), is light. I thrive off sunlight and lots of natural light. Dark apartments are depressing and make me never want to stay home. Another huge plus are nice kitchens (especially shiny new ones that are all clean and include dishwashers, which for us will just be like a giant drying rack)! I want to cook a lot next year and not hate my kitchen.

But, like I said, still looking. Hopefully T and I will settle on something soon, because it'd be nice to get it out of the way before we're in China.

an occassion, a thought, a complaint

An occasion:

It's awesome to be done with 1L year, even if I'm not all done with obligations. There's still the write-on to do, but after a weekend off, the prospect of doing work tomorrow isn't so awful. It was a relaxing weekend, in any case. :) And mostly it's been nice weather, which is especially good when coinciding with time off.

A thought:

It's strange how time (and distance) pulls some people together and yet separates other people, oftentimes not on bad terms. Drifting away happens and it's not even quite sad because it's so gradual. I almost wish we were still as close as we used to be (strange how she manages where we can't), but to be honest, I don't think either of us are invested enough to make the effort.

A complaint:

Lollipop is going to be one of those annoyingly catchy songs I wish I hadn't listened to, isn't it? Oh damn.

this nebulous in-between place

• How Men Change


• One exam left to go! If only I were motivated to study...


• so terrified i could cry, and so pointlessly scared

my life is a series of head/desk

Pop quiz!

1. How does Mei currently feel towards her CivPro exam tomorrow?

(A)
(B)
(C)
(D)
(E) All of the above

The answer is (E) all of the above! I'm sick of school. I just want these exams to be over - I almost want them to be over more than I want to do well. This is a scary thought, because the concept of not doing well (or at least not wanting to do well) is foreign to me. Terrifying, really. It's so unmitigatedly selfish. And I can make up words if I want.

None of this is helped by the fact that I feel fat. Well, no, I toss that word around loosely. I really mean that I feel unhealthy - law school, especially this past month, has been far too much a sedentary lifestyle. I really need to schedule exercise into my life, and stick to it. It's beneficial in so many ways.

Is it weird that I miss M all the time, even though we see each other a lot? They tell me it's not. Maybe it's a good thing. Then again, considering the long summer apart, maybe not.

Speaking of this summer, the interns (from NYU law! Columbia law! Yale law! and Princeton, fuck you all) have been emailing each other, doing basic introductions and discussing the type of work we'll likely be doing during our internship. There is talk of comparative law research and projects and legal work - the finer details escape me at the moment because I'm trying (more or less) to focus on finals; all that's really struck me is god-fucking-damn, these kids (all of them white, or, as J calls them, mini-Minzners, save T, me, and some older Chinese guy) are intensely interested in China and forward-thinking, proactive people. They are going to prepare for work ahead of time.

This makes me feel like crap.

This makes me feel like maybe, outside of finals, I should be doing some pre-internship intensive research into Chinese labor and immigration law. For all that I love China, what do I actually know if its laws?



Good times. Post-finals, I'll have write-on, packing, and extracurricular research to look into. When I go home to NC for a week, I'll have to make sure I see A, V, buy a UNC baseball cap, eat homecooked food, read at least one book for pleasure, pack for China, and continue extracurricular research.

Oh well. For all my griping, it's good to keep in mind that this summer is not meant to be all fun and games just because I'll be in Beijing (and with a friend). There's work to be done! (...but there's also people and places to see! Food to eat! KTV to attend! Somehow, fun will be had, I guarantee.)

Keeping up that sunny forecast, or trying. :)

life's little wake-up calls

Today, I was at Starbucks studying CivPro because it was gorgeous outside and I wanted to get out of my cave of a room. Sunny days are my favorite; they make me crave comfortable seats near huge windows with lots of light, a good drink or snack, and usually some music or a book. It was windy today, which was an excuse to claim a table indoors. I have a final on Thurday, which was an excuse to do work instead of running around outside having a life. ...Excuse or obligation? Sometimes I think I like being productive more than running about - bt maybe that's a sign that I really need to lead a less sedentary lifestyle.

In any case, as I was sitting, going over my notes and sipping at my iced espresso, the lady sitting next to me accidentally knocks over her grande latte. It spills all over the floor, fortunately missing me or any other patron but making a mess: one of those tragic accidents of everyday life that aren't horrible enough to make you feel terrible, but just bad enough to make you cringe.

What struck me, however, was not her accident, but my first reaction. I instinctively glanced away, towards my notes, and determined that I was going to ignore it entirely and pretend it didn't affect me in the least. I was going to just read and get on with my life, and let this stranger get on with hers.

Five seconds later, I was totally appalled with myself. I took off my earphones, asked if she was okay, asked if she needed help, got up, offered my napkins and started wiping down a chair. She said, "Thank you" and "oh you don't have to" and then a barista took over with a mop. So I sat back down, still incredibly surprised and not entirely pleased with myself.

Why would my gut instinct be to ignore her? Why would I wish I could just pretend it didn't happen?

This reflects so poorly upon my character. And the saddest thing is that I didn't used to be this way. Before, my first instinct would have been to leap up and offer help. Lately, it's been to valiantly ignore everything as if didn't affect me. I could argue that I want to spare the person the embarrassment of having everyone stare, but what kind of poor excuse is that? People appreciate help. They're going to be embarrassed no matter what - and a kind word and helping hand goes much further in alleviating that.

I just...I'm disappointed in myself. This is, I think, a wake-up call to let me know that I'm really not as good of a person as I thought I was. And it's not okay.

It's okay to not be perfect, of course. It's okay to be selfish sometimes, naturally. It's okay to do the best you can for yourself. But you can't start rationalizing and justifying more and more things until you let yourself become completely self-absorbed and self-interested. You have to fight to maintain basic morals, ethics, and (I think) generosity of spirit. Be a decent human being. Be courteous and polite and helpful to the best of your abilities. Smile, say thank you, hold open that door. They're all little things, and they cost you so little, but they can go such a long way in improving the general atmosphere and brightening someone else's day. (I say this with experience after two and a half years working at Alpine - it was always the friendly, smiling, polite customers that made my day. Always. And sometimes just from so little.)

I joke around that the reason I can study in the courtyard, with lots of ambient (or even flat-out loud) noise, is because I'm self-absorbed and I can tune out other people's conversations (and, often, existences) to focus on me, and my work.

To some extent, that's true. To some extent, that's okay.

But I don't want to be so self-absorbed that I can't even bother to be a good person anymore just because it's not self-serving.

Hopefully this incident will remind me to make an active effort to be the kind of person I want to be.

try for an always sunny forecast

So 1L classes are officially over. All that's left of the year is exams and the write-on, then packing up and storing my things somewhere over the summer. At least my plans to China are set for the summer - it's exciting for sure.

In my excitement and pre-planning, I made a travel blog here. It's really not in operation until after I'm in China, but I like to get a jump on things. If I can get things done ahead of time, I generally like to, because it's a nice feeling to have things settled and out of the way. (I love ticking things off my lists, okay? Stop judging me! Speaking of lists, this site makes me so incredibly happy, especially because it's all basics, no frills, meaning you can't be distracted wasting time making lists instead of just doing whatever needs to be done. Also, having no dates for deadlines is a huge pressure off.)

I'm also a big fan of tables and charts! And calendars! Color-coordinated! Oh wow, I'm such a geek, but it's okay, because it makes me happy.

I was going to write a thoughtful post about parenting and what kind of child I'd like (and ruminations on the kind of parent I might be, or would hope to be), inspired by Yotsuba&! but...really, I'm tired. I'll save that for another time. But being a parent is, I think, both a terrifying and exciting responsibility (and joy).

I suppose I can only hope to do the best I can. For everything in life, really.

Thinking back, both Yotsuba&! and Smiling Pasta had good advice about the attitude to take towards life. Every day is the greatest day. If you believe that, don't let life get you down - make the most out of what you have. Just smile, and there's nothing you can't overcome. There is nothing so awful that you can't have a little faith. It's not to say you're never allowed to be sad, or disappointed, or upset. It's not to say that life isn't just plain unfair sometimes.

But in the end, nothing is so awful that you can't make it through. Life, really, is what you make of it. And that all comes down to the attitude you take.

For me, I guess that just means trying my hardest and hoping for the best, for my future kids, for my future job, for my future at large. For my friendships, my relationships.

I can't wait until exams and write-on are over. Not just to wrap up 1L year, but also because it means something else begins. Something new, different, for a change.

(And clearly the best way to face everything is armed with lists. I am still me, after all.)

it may be compulsive, but it's me

It's not that I'm dissatisfied with life. It's really that I hate having uncertainties in my future, when they are unnecessary uncertainties - things that could be resolved and set aside. Plans, they should be made, and followed. I want things done and out of the way, not hanging up in the air, unresolved and waiting.

This is about China, about travel, about living. This is about school, about my class schedule, about where I will live next year and insignificant little details like that.

It's not so much that I'm dissatisfied with life as I'm frustrated. I'm frustrated by not having concrete things. Look, I'm a list-maker. I'm a fucking INFJ - the J part means that I like organization, compartmentalization, making lists and fucking checking them off. I'm unhappy with not being sure about things that should easily be made certain of. I'm unsure about enough of my life, I'd like to think I have control over other parts, like knowing what I will do.

Maybe no one else is like this. Maybe no one else gets this. That's even more frustrating, because everyone else is willing to just let life go as it pleases, and think I just stress out unnecessarily about little details. I'm sorry you don't understand and that you don't feel the same stress to get things done, aren't under the same compunction to get things settled, but this is me, okay? This is what I need. This is what makes me who I am. And I'm sorry if you end up frustrating me because you don't seem to care at all about achieving the same ends. I'm sorry I can't just "go with the flow".

At least the weather is better today. I am the opposite of a night owl - maybe I'm more of a heliocentric plant. I need daylight, sunlight, to energize me and make me feel like I can face life (uncertain as it may be).

It's the insidious restlessness that makes me unhappy with the world. Let me fix this. Let me make something happen.

[x] The Greatest Love of All Time

Not my favorite, but the only thing close to original (for a given value of original) that I've managed to write in for-fucking-ever. Inspired loosely by Taylor Swift's Love Story. Oh shoot me. I take what I can get, okay?

This is a...vignette? I'm incapable of writing long things.

--

The Greatest Love of All Time

This is a love story, they tell you. It starts like this:

She’s crying.

Why is she crying? you ask. This is a love story. Shouldn’t she be happy and in love, flushed and breathless? Shouldn’t she laugh and smile and have a hand to hold, and a man who loves her to kiss? Shouldn’t she have promises of now and forever, until all her tears dry up?

This is what you’ve always hoped love would be like. You’ve never actually been in love, you think. There have been crushes, flutterings, butterflies in your stomach – but nothing quite so big, so monumental and momentous, as love.

You don’t know what it’s like. You’ve imagined it to be everything beautiful and splendid – a rush of feelings so intense that you won’t be able to contain them. You will shout to all the world, even silently, about love, love, love. Your eyes, your smile, your very pores will exclaim to everyone who passes you by: I’m in love. I am loved. This is love.

This is what you imagine love to be like, so you’re at a loss when the story begins:

She’s crying.

There’s no rain, no torrential downpour to match her mood, no light shower to gently streak her windowpanes like tears. It’s dark outside, though, because she’s wasted the entire day away in misery, pale and gray. Her hair is tied neatly behind her, her clothes immaculate – she made every effort to be okay this morning, so she could face the world and take it on. No one has to know, is what she thought that morning. I’ll be fine.

It’s all fallen apart, and now she sits immaculate on her bed, crying. She feels like she’s choking on her heart, feels like it’s risen up in her throat until she can’t breathe, and aches all over.

You want to reach out to her, maybe hold her. You’re tentative though, because you don’t know her. You don’t what’s wrong. What happened, you want to ask, but there is no answer. What brought her to this point?

How is this a love story? you wonder again.

Maybe her boyfriend (husband?) left her. Maybe he cheated on her – but, no. You think she’d be angrier if it were that. She seems too heartbroken. Maybe he died.

She seems young, so her boyfriend (lover?) must be young as well.

How tragic it would be to die so young. You would cry, too. (At least you think you would. It’s hard to judge, when you’ve never been in love.)

She wipes at her eyes, and you can read the weariness in the slow movements of her hand. She’s tired. Tired of crying, tired of feeling like the world has broken her. It’s easy to see, and it leaves you conflicted. Is there anything you can do to help her? Is there anything you might say to console her? Are there such things as the right words?

You wish you knew what was wrong.

Someone enters the room, an older woman. She gathers the girl in her arms, holds her close, and speaks quiet words into her ear. When she leaves, your protagonist lifts her chin. She looks suddenly determined, more certain of what she wants, like she has purpose. Her face is still streaked with tears, wet lashes dark in the fading light.

She moves with purpose. Something is clutched tight in her hands – a small vial. She is uncapping it. You don’t understand. You don’t understand how this is a love story, if she is alone and unhappy. You don’t understand why she is lifting the vial to her lips, draining it with an elegant tilt of her neck.

She’s beautiful, you think. She’s young. She reminds you of someone you know, someone you want to protect and keep from the toils and wiles of the world. You hardly know her, but suddenly you are desperate for her to be happy, to live freely and laugh joyously. You want her to love, to shout it to the world to know, and fear clutches you when she swallows that last drop.

The vial falls to the ground.

She follows soon after, an inelegant collapse onto the floor, her immaculate clothing at last disheveled. Her face is pale, still damp with tearstains.

This is a love story, they tell you. You feel like a stone has settled into your heart.

How can this be a love story? How can this be anything like love, this story that makes you want to gather her up and cry into her hair? She is so young, so sad. You don’t understand. This is nothing like fireworks or moving mountains or birdsong. This is nothing like love.

You turn away as an outcry is raised, and rushing feet fill the room, crowding carelessly near her body.

This is a love story, they tell you. It ends like this:

He finds her and his cry raises goosebumps along your skin. It’s chilling, the anguish in his voice; it breaks him. He lands on his knees, pulling her towards him ever so gently. He sobs, laments. He kisses her one last time, murmurs prayers into her hair, despairing.

So this is he. This is her man. (Boyfriend? Lover?) This is her heart, her love.

Her love cannot exist with her. You realize this before he does. You’re almost calm when he pulls out a vial. This is familiar, too terrifyingly familiar. You almost don’t flinch when he drains the poison and the vial clatters to the ground as he slumps over.

So this is love.

So this is love.

But then she stirs. And then she screams, because no, no, no, she never meant for it to end like this. It was supposed to be different. He was supposed to understand. He was supposed to wait. She only ever wanted to be with him, only wanted him, only wanted—

She wails, and you know what happens next.

Everyone knows what happens next.

She grabs the dagger and plunges it into her own heart.

She’s crying.

You look away as she collapses onto him, star-crossed lovers thwarted even at the end. They’ll have eternity, but will forever be long enough? He didn’t understand. She didn’t wait. They were in love.

This is a love story, they tell you. The greatest love story of all time.

Maybe, you think, you’ve never understood what love is about all this time.

fraying at the seams

Yesterday, I thought I would do anything to make you happy, because I hate to see you sad, and I want to make a difference. Today, I think maybe I should be more selfish because no one else is going to be selfish for me. Today, I think perhaps you should do something to make me happy, and give me a sign you care.

I would do so much for so many of you. It's hard for me to ask for things back, but that doesn't mean I don't need anything from you.

if you let it be this simple

I just want to make you happy. I just want to make you smile. I just want you to trust me and let me care.

Every friendship is made of this. This is L-O-V to the E, in every shape and form. Just believe in me.

Maybe it's time to look towards your future. Keep your eyes to the skies, and let your dreams fly.

2009 Men's NCAA Tournament

Bitches! National champions!

Fuck yeah.

looking forward into future mine

On a totally unrelated note, I'm so interested in how copyright works. Is Shakespeare public domain now? Does that mean derivative fiction can be published about his works? (The way all those horrible, horrible Jane Austen spin-offs about Mr. Darcy and his diary or what-have-you are now allowed to be put to print.) How does it work in the music industry? Taylor Swift's song Love Story is practically a fic in itself of Romeo and Juliet. It's sweet (and it makes me want to write...), but it's also makes me wonder how copyrights work.

Good thing I'm going to take Copyright Law next semester. :)

I can't decide between taking Internet Law, Trademarks, and International Intellectual Property Law for Spring semester. They're all similar and fascinating, but it all comes down to other factors like what professor teaches it, if I can build a rapport with and gain a reference from that professor, what time the class is, how the class is graded, and what the final's like. I need to go investigate these things.

Signing up for classes in law school is an art. It's not just about taking whatever you need to or think is interesting.

Fortunately, I've pretty much decided what my schedule's going to look like Fall semester: 12 hours + 1 hour journal credit (if I get on one...which I hope I do), which is few enough to allow for the crazy amounts of traveling and interviewing that fall recruiting will entail. No classes on Wednesday or Friday, either, as per my mentor's suggestion - it will also make for an easier time flying out on weekends to interview, since I won't have classes to miss and make up.

Classes for next semester look like: Copyright & Related Rights, International Law, Federal Income Taxation, and Censorship & Free Expression. Good times.

I have to make a note to remember deadlines for bidding on OCIs over the summer. Oh the summer. So many more details to work out, but I'm so excited. I love Beijing! Plus I will get to hang out with T.

The only sad thing about the summer is not getting to see everyone I want to see (for long enough). In particular...M and M. I will make it happen somehow, though.

[x] the fall of the greek

The Fall of the Greek
In the winter of eternal life, there was never promise of eternal youth.

Lind frowned at the little pot sitting on her windowsill. Sticking out a finger, she prodded its contents, then drew in a sharp breath and sucked her fingertip into her mouth. Tithonus was prickly as ever. Dead, but still prickly.

She looked around the room, gaze resting briefly on the wastebasket before flickering on by. She wouldn’t relegate her pet cactus to such a dishonorable disposal. She’d raised him for the better part of two years, after all, ever since she’d received him as a graduation present.

Besides, it would start smelling bad. Lind only emptied the trash once every two weeks. Not much usually accumulated; with her busy schedule, she was rarely in the dorm, puttering about and generating trash. Unlike, she thought unkindly, someone else she could mention.

She determinedly didn’t look at Jennifer’s half of the room, decidedly less neat than Lind’s, with clothes strewn haphazardly all over the place and books and papers stacked in messy piles on the floor. The hazards of the lottery system, Lind often thought, mouth twisting. Next year she’d have to be sure to request someone she knew to be an organized, sane person. No, next year she’d make sure to live off campus and drag Pan with her. Only a ridiculous amount of money—or some other near unattainable form of persuasion—could induce her to stay.

Leaving the window, Lind crossed the room to her desk and began gathering her textbooks. She didn’t have time right now to deal with her cactus’s tragic demise: Tithonus could wait two hours, but Global Econ couldn’t. She picked up her coat from where she’d laid it over the back of her chair earlier and put it on, wrapping her fuzzy blue scarf around her neck and swinging one end over her shoulder. Gloves and hat followed. Pennsylvania winters were bitter as a norm and she couldn’t afford losing fingers when she had two papers due next week. At last Lind collected her books in one arm, checked that her bag was replete with writing utensils, and let herself out.

She cast one last, vaguely nostalgic look in the direction of the windowsill before pulling the door shut behind her and locking it.

A vain death in room five-fifty-one and no one to mourn, she thought ruefully.

and in ten years, will you remember me?

Sometimes, my mom tells me depressing things like it's hard to stay in touch with friends you don't have a lot in common with anymore, because you'll all be too busy with your own lives. While I understand that there is some truth in that statement, and I've come to some acceptance about fading connections (though not affection) for people I'm close to now, I hope I never lose touch with certain people. I doubt I will, though, because they're necessary to me.

That's a funny word, too, though: "necessary". What it means for me now may not be what it means for me later. There are people I thought necessary to me in the past that are no longer: not necessarily in a negative way, either, only in that I grew up and managed my life on my own, without them, and I survived. It's not that I would've chosen that path if given a second chance, but it might have been for the best. Then again, it might not have. Either way, I think the fact remains that we don't get to go back and change things in our past, so we can only adapt and do the best we can with the present and the future that we are given.

There are certain people who are necessary to me now who may not be necessary to me later. That's an unnerving thought. It doesn't mean I will love them any less, of course, but I hope that love will be enough to keep us close to each other.

Of course, there are people who will alway be necessary to me, I think, no matter what. Just in different ways. And it helps that time has proven us over and over again. J is a good example. Sometimes we go for months without talking, but I've never not considered her important to me, or a good friend, or someone I could depend on, or someone I would invite to my future wedding.

I've known her for...five years. I wonder if that's long or not, in the grand scheme of things.

I honestly don't think I believe in labels anymore. There are certain people who are more important and more necessary to me than other people, but it's not a ranking. I don't think I can even label people "best friend" anymore. It's not the label that makes it true.

Maybe I think too much for my own good - not always in a bad way, though. I like to pretend it's part of my growing up.

walk this road and wear it down

You were mine first and I hate that it means nothing, because I don't have a right to you just because I knew you first. I hate that it feels like I'm losing you. And you. And you.

I know you don't understand what it feels like. I'm not asking you to.

Just...give me a little time to work it out, so I'm not miserable every time I see you, wondering whether I still matter the same, or at all. I know better than this. I know I matter. I just have to conquer my own fears and doubts

It's not a matter of possession, but a matter of trust. That's what friendships are built on.

I have to trust you (and you and you) that you aren't going to slowly, one by one, walk away from me. Because sometimes that's what it feels like.

(And sometimes anger is an easier path to take than fear.)

read on a friend's blog

One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. "Which road do I take?" she asked. "Where do you want to go?" was his response. "I don't know," Alice answered. "Then," said the cat, "it doesn't matter."

니가 좋은 이유 (Why I like you)

Even though break's ending, I'm an a good mood. Gotta take what joys you can, when you can.

I bought a camera too! So that is exciting and will be the one bright spot of next week. At least I have a new soundtrack to my life as I return to slave away at law school.

Speaking of music, I drove around a lot this break, and listened to the radio, which I never do (but I didn't have any of my music here). I finally sort of know what's popular, if the frequency of plays of certain songs are any indication. Frankly, I'm tired of Pink's Sober and Kelly Clarkson's My Life Would Suck Without You now. I'll stick with my kpop, thanks. Though I do enjoy Britney's Circus~ Now this is the kind of dance music they should've played at the club. STL disappoints. Let's go out again, and party right.

I had deep thoughts on music tastes and possibly a rant on overbearing, contemptuous people who think their tastes > yours, but...it's overdone. No need for repetition.

:)

they say take a chance...

눈이 부셔 부셔 부셔
숨이 막혀 막혀 막혀
내가 미쳐 미쳐 baby~

So I'm a good girl. I've pretty much always known this and I think I've come to terms with it, to a point where I'm comfortable with it and not seeking to rebel.

I don't smoke. I'm not a big drinker. I can probably count on my fingers the number of times I drank underage. I like going clubbing on occasion, but not every weekend. I've never tried drugs and have no interest in doing so. I haven't slept around. I haven't even been interested in throwing my money away at the mall until fairly recently.

I wouldn't say it was because I'm Christian (since I'm not quite - but that's a another long story). I wouldn't say, either, that it's because I haven't had the opportunities (I have). I can't say that I've never thought about it, because I have been interested, curious, and intrigued. I'm not (that) innocent. I know my share of filth, for better or for worse. But, in the end, a lot of why I'm mostly a good girl is just because of the way I was raised.

In the same way that I don't understand people who don't wipe down their stove after cooking, or don't feel a need to wash dishes immediately after dinner, or don't get up early (okay I understand them, I just won't be one of them) - I was raised to not find consuming large quantities of alcohol fun, and smoking has always been an unspoken no. Drugs have never even been a question. Wild nights out? My parents sleep early. I thought I was being rebellious enough staying up 'til midnight.

Obviously I've grown since leaving home for college, and for law school. I've widened my horizons, gotten some more experiences, figured out what I want and what I don't. And I still don't want to smoke or try drugs or sleep around. So it's good to know that I'm finding part of myself. I don't judge others that do - that's their life and their choices. I don't live the way they do not because I think I'm better than them, but because those are choices I chose differently. That's all there is. And it may to be my own detriment but, well, that's okay. I'm still me and I that's all I can ever be.

I think the point of this is that I'm mostly a good girl, I know it, and I'm okay with it. Typically. Every once in a while I wonder what it'd be like if I let myself go wild, if I crossed the line and maybe let myself make some stupid decisions and just roll with the punches, deal with the consequences...

I don't think I've ever. And that makes me wish I could, maybe just once. Maybe just this once.

It comes down to a question of risk-assessment, and I've always played cautiously. I wonder if that will ever change.

resolving to just like it as it is

Give it a week and I'll be over this. Distance puts things in perspective, and I regain enough sanity to realize I blow things out of proportion. Way to melodramatize your life, Mei.

Cute. Life is cute. Let's just go from here, crack down, get work done, and let things go as they will. I'll do as T says and enjoy the feelings as they come, and not dwell too much or do anything stupid (as per C's advice). Life is beautiful. Make these memories, live them.

(Wow, kind of a whore, huh?

I'm joking. Mostly.)

New SJ album coming out on the 12th! Teaser sounds ridiculously awful, but I'm looking forward to it anyway. Lots of work to be done this week...

(I don't know why I'm even thinking about trust when there's nothing to even be skeptical about.)

All right. I'm going shopping this week, and meeting up with people for coffee, because that's the cool and adult thing to do.

i can't begin to explain this

I'm so fucked.

WHY IS THIS MY LIFE. What the hell is this horrible, disgusting trend of mine? UGH.

I DON'T KNOW. I DON'T EVEN KNOW.

When did I turn into this kind of person? How did my life end up like this? I never meant for anything to turn out like this, wtf.

What the fuck.

This is why I need spring break right now. I need the distance from STL and my fucked-up overdramatic headache of a life.

"smitten with life"

E told me I was smitten with life tonight. It made me smile.

It made me spend ten minutes searching for a picture that might appropriately express that joie de vivre to no avail. I'm sure there are photos that could celebrate life like that, expressive in their very nature, but I couldn't find them. Maybe I'm not looking hard enough. Maybe I just don't care enough, because even though a picture is a worth a thousand words - sometimes I'd rather have those thousand words.

Not just any thousand words, mind you, but something beautiful. Meaningful. Evocative and perfect, capturing everything you feel and believe, that rush of emotion carrying you into being smitten with life.

Take every moment of your life and turn it into a memory. Cooking, eating, laughing, joking, talking, wishing, waiting, hoping, believing that there's something more than this, that this is everything you'll ever need, that this moment will be remembered forever.

Take these words, and turn them into something that will last forever.

Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. ~William Wordsworth

There are so many good quotes on writing. There are so many ways to live life through these words, but I have to remember that there is more than just these words too. Live life, don't just watch it pass by and record it. Lose yourself in it. Find yourself speechless sometimes, and just swim in it, drown in it.

Be in love with life. At least once in a while.

只要能让你开心我什么都愿意

我听见你的声音
有种特别的感觉

I was in a place where everything you did annoyed me for some inexplicable reason. Then everything changed, as they are wont to. Now I'm in a place where I think I'll be okay again. There is such a thing as "growth" but it's so much easier to talk about hypothetically, logically, than truthfully to my life.

I miss home. I miss A. I want to catch up and see how everyone is. I want to visit UNC campus again, while classes are still ongoing, and see what life is like now that I'm gone. I'd like to see K, C, V. I should have bought tickets home for spring break for earlier, but now it's too late to change them.

I need also to plan if L can come visit me the week of her spring break. Where will she stay? I want it to happen.

如果真的有一天
爱情理想会实现
我会加倍努力好好对你永远不改变

There are a lot of things I want. I'm back in this place and I just feel so wistful.

more than just this

You should never define yourself solely by your accomplishment. Nor should you ever define yourself by other people's accomplishments.

It's so easy to feel as though you are just not good enough, but - I just realize I always do this. I always write in second person when I'm feeling particularly discouraged, as if to distance myself from my failure.

I should never define myself solely by my accomplishments. Nor should I ever define myself by other people's accomplishments. I am more than an aggregation of my academic achievements. I will step away from believing that I am not good enough.

It's a hard world that gets to define what is good, what is enough, but they can quantify only my accomplishments. I am more than that. They cannot judge me on my worth.

I am more than this.

there should've been a picture, but i was lazy

I think I've forgotten how to blog. Then again, did I ever really know how? How do you make a blog post interesting? Use pictures! People of my generation have short attention spans, due to TV and the internet; we are all about instant gratification. Perhaps I should also tell jokes, rapidfire. Sadly, I am not so clever.

But I'm happy because I finished my brief! It's not the best thing ever and probably not even my best work, but it does have a lot of effort put into it, and I'm happy that I finished before the early hours of the morning. I'm frankly tired of staring at it and at my laptop. I swear my eyesight gets exponentially worse during the weekends before I have big LP assignments due.

I will endeavor to make more blog posts while happy and positive. One thing in particular that's pleased me this weekend is watching Eddie Izzard on Youtube. He is a gloriously funny British comedian (who crossdresses). I love his accent and his sound effects and facial expressions; he can have me laughing so hard I can't breathe, but it's worth it. He also had a cameo role in Ocean's 11 (or was that 12...13...? I forget). It reminds me that I want to watch that movie again, because it is beautifully delicious. I like hot men in nice suits pulling cons/heists. What can I say? I'm shallow and female. Give me a break.

I always feel like rewarding myself after finishing up a big LP assignment, and I think this week I will bake cupcakes with Tina (aww, we might be roommates next year! This is exciting to me! I hope we find a nice place to live) and either going to a bookstore or to the mall. I've felt a need to acquire more pink clothes. I need to become the ultimate stereotypical girl, or something. Or just pnk looks good on me. Whatever. Too bad there are so few pastel pink things out there, at least ones that are cute. Hot pink and fuschia seem to be in fashion, and they're just...not quite as flattering.

I think I just lost interest in this post. I guess I'm done for now.

retraction // modification

Never mind. I'm manning up! I'll sleep a lot and then take on this thing called life.

« insert inspirational song lyrics here »

making a statement

FUCK YOU.

apologies

오 너무 너무 예뻐 맘이 너무 예뻐
첫 눈에 반해서 꼭 집은걸

I'm ill, which I hate. I haven't been this sick in probably three or four years. I ache and feel bloated and fat, and it sucks. I should man up and do my best though. Sorry for the constant complaints and whining. I'm sure I've gotten on someone's nerves.

14 love letters

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! ♥

Fourteen love letters.

01
We've drifted apart somewhat, but that's only to be expected, with the physical distance separating us. It's okay, though. I don't think we need to be in constant communication with each other to still care. I guess this is part of what growing up is about. I hope you know that no matter where life takes you, I will always love you for who you are, same and different from the person that I am. You will live your own life and I will live mine, but there will always be something that ties us together, and I'm grateful for that. It's this thing we call friendship.

02
"I was too young to see that you were always there for me." Thank you for everything you've done for me, everything you've given up and struggled over. I didn't appreciate it when I was younger but I hope that as I grow up, as I mature, I come to truly appreciate you the way I should. No matter what differences in our world perspectives, I am yours, and I love you. I will do everything I can to make you proud and happy. Thank you for wanting the best for me.

03
You take care of me and you make me laugh; I feel so comfortable with you. I feel like I can ask you for advice, talk to you about anything, joke with you about stupid things. You are truly the older sister I never had, but to have you now makes me feel incredibly lucky. I'm so glad that you're in my life, and I hope to be whatever you need me to be, in return. We can take on this life and make something positive out of it.

04
You, on the other hand, are the little sister I never had. I have a number of friends I care for and give advice to, but you somehow fill the role better than any of them. Sometimes I don't know what to do with you, and sometimes I don't know what advice I can give to help - but I will always listen, and I will always care. Thank you for trusting me enough to turn to me when you need someone. When you're down, remember that you're one of my most important people (perhaps surprisingly). I love you, so take care of yourself, okay?

05
We haven't talked as much this semester, but I understand what life is like. We drown in our respective academic careers, not usually by choice, but often enough because we share the same priorities and hopes. Know that I understand, so don't ever worry if time has lapsed into weeks before we catch up. Know, too, that if you want, I will cheerfully listen to anecdotes about your life, or complaints, or anything, because you're - I don't know quite what you are. Good friend, practically sister, someone I trust and admire and love deeply. Come see me this semester.

06
I don't know how exactly to define how I feel about you, except that you are definitely one of my closest friends. You may even be one of my best friends. I feel completely comfortable talking about my worst fears and ugliest insecurities, as well as what I want out of life. But I am also constantly stupid and silly around you too, joking and teasing and being ridiculous. I feel incredibly myself around you, which is not true of all my friendships. So...thanks for that, I guess. For being you. I hope you feel the same way, and I hope it lasts forever. :) Pretending to be something I'm not has never worked out well for me.

07
You're a combination of young and old for me, a combination of naivety that doesn't quite yet get it just because you haven't had the life experiences yet (but I don't mean this in a patronizing way at all, because I'm much the same - I know I'm sheltered and "innocent" in many respects to life at large) and the ability to understand the intricacies of human relationships. You have your priorities in order, I think. At least, the most important of them. They will guide your life, so I don't really worry about you. You will grow up and learn and be successful, because you know what's important. Also, I love you. I love talking to you and I miss that, but I understand. And it will be okay regardless, because we're us.

08
For all that I constantly talk about how much I dislike you, I know you have qualities I admire. I know people like you for a reason. Hell, I like you, and there are reasons for that too. I think you do know what's important in life, which I fiercely support. I think you care deeply about people, which is generally admirable, even if it occasionally causes you stress and unhappiness. I think you try (maybe not hard enough), but at least you try. Remember what's important and what's not; remember that you need to take time off and enjoy life (make memories), but remember that the priorities need to be put first. You know what you want in life, so get out there and work for it.

09
I love the way you make me laugh. I love the way you make me smile. I love your singing, your talent, your hard work. I love the way you're familiar and beautiful and a reminder of some of the best times of my life. I love you for showing me what some of the most important things in life are. Thank you.

10
I don't know how many times or how many ways I can say this, but you are incredible. You're one of the people I admire most in the world because of the way you live your life: you're so intelligent and observant. You narrate extremely well. You're thoughtful. You're creative. You can make something out of your life, and I will be glad to know you. I'm glad we're keeping in touch and I hope it will always be true; distance will never separate us, because I will make every effort to close those distances. You're another person I feel like I can tell everything, no matter how different we are (and we are quite different). I hope we will never lose this. I will not let us ever lose this. Now come back to me. :)

11
I don't know if we'll ever be best friends, but you know what? I like you a lot. I like spending time with you. I like joking with you and teasing each other. I think we share a lot of the same interests and values, and you're a lot of fun. There's no need for us to be BFF - we each have people in our lives who are incredibly important. I think it's okay for us to just be what we are: good friends.

12
I told you everything I thought, good and bad, for two years. You listened. You talked. I listened. This is something that establishes a firm friendship. It's harder this year, since I'm far away, but I do still care. I hope you realize that. I may not be enough, and I can't do everything, but I hope I can still do (be) something. And it is always, always awesome that you understand my unadulterated passion for UNC basketball. That is one thing we will always have, easy.

13
You and I have a lot of memories. We have a lot of history. We have a lot of firsts and a lot empty space between us, in terms of time and space. I don't think it changes the fact that we're important to each other though; I hope not. What I say here can apply to so many people, because it's true in all respects: we grow apart, we grow up, but we don't stop caring. I think that's the most important part. You have overcome so much - I admire you so deeply for it. In your place, I don't know what I would have done. I count myself lucky in so many ways, to not have to go through the same things you have, but also to know you and your strength. I love you and I'm proud of you. Thank you also for helping me through some of my more difficult times.

14
I love your smile. I love your style. I love your intelligence and humor and elitism. I love you for spending time with me, for letting me get to know you. I love you for giving me memories, for helping me as a writer, for developing my sense of humor, for giving me an opportunity to critique. We may never be best friends, but you'll always be a part of my life, an important part of shaping who I am now. Let's keep in touch.