When to Keep Your Mouth Shut

{vivian lau-- this is what I wish my hair looked like. minus the antler}

I always thought it was interesting that all the bloggers with large readerships have a post somewhere among all their other ones that talks about setting boundaries over what you share.

For someone who thought it was silly to censor herself especially since so few people actually read what I write, I didn't know what part of life they were talking about-- what was I supposed to be editting? Late nights doing homework? Goofing off with friends?

I get it now.

One of the things that I haven't talked about at all recently is my apartment situation. Which is kind of amusing since this blog was originally started to document just that. But what I didn't think about last year was what I would do or say if it all went wrong.

When my apartmentmates {apties} and I fight, how much do I share? For that matter, do I share? Is it really any of the rest of the world's business? Would Shellie, who had an awful roomie her freshie year who used a blog to tear down and blame Shellie for everything that went wrong in her life, would Shellie think I was doing the same? Where's the line between being honest and talking about the things that can go wrong when you live with other people and going too far with your venting and/complaining? Am I supposed to pretend that everything's absolutely peachy when honestly, the situation's stabbing my soul a little every day?

In real life, I try not to discuss my apartment situation with others, especially when I don't know them very well. I think the only people I talk to about this are E, S, & M from Apt 213 and Steben. I haven't even mentioned to my parents that I'm not living with Emma and Shellie next year or why that is the case. I know they'll take my side {even if there is no side to take, they'll be supportive of whatever decision I make}, but I think part of me is worried that they'll go overboard, as per normal, and overreact to the dramallama that's been happening here.

Honestly, I'm mentally and emotionally exhausted. Roommates should come with warning labels: "May cause large amounts of hearthurt if dealt with incorrectly" or "Caution: impressive effect on emotions if allowed". I never realized how emotionally attached I was to being acknowledged, or at least noticed, until I started living with these two.

Being ignored sucks.

I am officially announcing the setting of boundaries over what I post right now. It's obviously been in my head this entire year since you haven't read anything where I was flipping out over my apartmentmates, so I have managed to activate self-control and self-restraint, but I thought I should put it out there officially. It makes it so much more... official. *grins*

---

Things I Will Not Announce to the World:

1. Apartmentmate drama.

2. Other people's drama.

3. Parental drama.

Now, note that I do reserve the right to bring up any of those three things IF {and only if} I learned some life-changing, mind-boggling, universe-shaking lesson from it OR if I'm genuinely confused/concerned enough to ask for advice from the interwebs.

---

Things I Don't Mind Sharing With the World:

1. College realities. Like all-nighters and eating breakfast for dinner.

2. Honest opinions. Since when didn't I do that...

3. Pretty much everything else, really. I chatter a lot. And since I don't want my friends to get tired of me, I'll chatter here. Because y'all have the option of doing something else without hurting my feelings if you reallytruly want.

---

The upside of being ignored is that I'm an only child and therefore have a much better tolerance {or even a preference really} towards being by myself and doing my own thing. Life's actually a lot less stressful when you look at apartmenting as living on your own with two invisible, yet messy beings existing somewhere in your proximity. That way, when something needs doing, you don't get upset that you're the only one who's going to do it.

I'm choosing to look on the bright side of things today. Management fixed the light outside our front door, so now we look like a legit apartment and not a sketchy hole-in-the-wall. I am excited.

I Don't Have Enough Hats for This

{meet my roommates. at the moment, I want those hats like no other}

I was super excited that I was going to be able to have a haircut before/after picture and post today.

But, sadly, it's not going to happen.

Let's just say...

I look in the mirror and burst into tears.

... I'd never had a haircut horror story before, and now I have one.

Lovely.

One Little Paragraph Means the World to Me

{senior year of high school}

I actually planned out my posts for February. Whether I stick with it is a totally different story. But the topics are there if I need them.

They had a theme, a common thread that ran through all of them, that I thought might pull the month together nicely. February is, after all, the month in which Valentine's Day resides, so I thought I'd do a little something related to 'love' or warm, fuzzy feelings every day. I had something for today. I forgot what it was now, but it was scheduled. And then something happened. And I realized that sometimes the best things aren't planned. Sometimes it's the spontaneous little things that really make your heart happy and make you feel loved.

There are different kinds of love. I've been most blessed with the friendship type. And just to prove it and demonstrate what kind of awesome and wonderful my friends really are, I thought I'd share a link that means the world to me.

This is what was posted on my wall today.*

Reading it makes me smile. It makes my eyes water and it makes my nose run. But they're happy tears. Because I know I am loved.

You see, I read the article and had a 99% feeling that that comm major was me. Then I got the post on my wall with the link back to the article and I knew it was me.

Choosing to be a Communications major normally wouldn't be such a bad thing. But when you take into account the fact that I'm Asian, so like it or not people think I should be going to medical/law school after college, it makes life about three times more difficult. Because what Debrr says is true. I do get a lot of "What're you going to do with that?" and "Why?" questions that aren't really fun to answer. And every time I'm asked these, I do feel hurt. Because it's like they're saying I'm not good enough or I'm not smart enough to make it as a doctor/lawyer/engineer/biochemist.

The fact that Debrr has spent the time, effort, and energy to listen when I get frustrated with people questioning my choice of major and actually gets it and understands what it is that makes those questions so hurtful means more than you could know. She's put into words my emotions and I can tell you even I have problems doing that most of the time.

The rest of her article is equally amazing. And I agree wholeheartedly with everything she's written there. Well, I have to sub in UCLA for Cornell, but you know what I mean. I love what I've chosen. I've made my choices and I don't regret them at all. Yeah, things were a little up-in-the-air and unsteady for a while, but that's what college is. It's figuring out life and what you want to do with it. It's learning from mistakes and sharing your knowledge with others. It's exploring yourself and coming out with a better understanding of who you are and what you believe in.

I'm grateful that I've had the opportunity to come to college and live out these life lessons. But I'm also extremely thankful for friends who care enough to get it. I adored Debrr like no other before, but it puts my heart in my throat to think that I'm thought of from almost 2700 miles away.

Love you, Debrr dear.

Thank you.

---

* I'd copy-paste the article here, so you wouldn't have to click on links and things, but I don't think Cornell would like that very much...

Journey Through the Depths

{through the madness that's my mind}



I go through phases.

Sometimes I can't stop reading, other times I'll bake three days in a row.

Right now, I feel like writing.

So don't mind the rambling post.

It's just creative genius at work.

No big.

---

Sometimes, I think writing is the ultimate form of creating.

Normally I'm not the type to actually do the writing itself, but rather, I'm the type that enjoys reading the fruits of someone else's labour {oh yeah, you read that right. Brit spelling, coming at ya}.

For example, books are my first love. Fiction in general, though romance in particular. Not the gushy, dime-novel, swooning-heroine type, but the more adventure, mystery, there-just-happens-to-be-a-good-pairing-here type.

Magazines are my second love. They have pictures.

Both, however, have words and lots of them.

I like reading those words.

It's usually much more interesting than coming up with my own.

So I have nothing but admiration for those who have it in them to sit and write all day.

Obviously, I can't be a journalist.

Also doubtful is being an English teacher.

I think that'd drive me up the wall.

Writing as an author is a little better, if only because I love stories enough to make telling my own worth the effort.

But I think I'd be a one-hit wonder.

I get too easily sidetracked and distracted to stay focused on one thing for any long amount of time.

I think I just said the same thing two different ways in one sentence.

Dear goodness.

{Yes, I realize that pretty much each sentence is getting its own paragraph. I warned you. This is a rambling post}.

I do hope this writing thing sticks with me long enough that I can keep this up during the normal school year.

The upside of having had all summer to work on this blogging thing is that I'm definitely faster than I was when I first started.

It's not that my thoughts are flowing faster or that I've gotten all that much better at expressing myself, but I think it's just the practice that makes it all easier.

Which is nice.

And I've figured out a decent format that works for me and my easily distracted brain.

At least for the moment.

I always wonder, though, if I should/could allow myself to write some ginormous hunk of a paragraph with no paragraph breaks in between and whether anyone would actually take the time to read it.

Only if it were super important is my guess.

Or if they were in love with me, my life, or my blog.

Which, at this point in the game, would be very rare indeed.

Can you believe I'm already a junior in college? How did this happen? And with senior standing? Goodness gracious.

One of the girls my age just got married about a week and a half ago. Admittedly, she also graduated this past June after only two years spent in college. She had that much credit and took that many classes in a short amount of time that she was able to graduate TWO YEARS early. How'd we get this old?

I'm so confused.

Sometimes it's baffling to realize that I'm expected to know what I want to do by the end of these four years of madness.

I mean, I kind of have an idea, but it's not a for-sure plan at this point.

I know that I want to like, if not love, what I do {whatever the heck it is}.

I have a few companies that I'd like to keep in mind, if only because I like their products, so why wouldn't I work for a business I like.

{Oh. There's a lot of repetition of the word 'like' in the past two paragraph/sentences. Too bad}.

But I don't really know what I want to do.

I suppose that comes with time.

Right now, I'd like to have the time to finish cleaning my room and organizing everything for the move back down to Los Angeles and my new home-away-from-home.

I do hope our apartment coalesces and it becomes somewhere that people want to visit, not just a place where the three of us can sleep after a long day.

That'd be nice.

People.

Have I told you I get to take the pancake pan down with me?

My mother says it's technically called a griddle, but we've never called it that in this house before, so why should I start now?

I think Blogger is telling me that this post is getting rather long.

Every time I pause in typing and Blogger has enough time to try to save, it takes a longer and longer amount of time before it allows me to go back to writing.

I think that's my cue to stop.

But my brain is still rambling and I don't know if I can go to sleep with this many thoughts and things running around my head like the lizards in my backyard on a sunny afternoon.

I'm pretty sure that made no sense and I'm not sure if I want to proofread that.

Drat.

I probably will.

After I go find a picture for this rambling post about nothing in particular.

Ha.

That's going to be fun.

Good night, world.

Y'all should be asleep, 'cause it's after two in the morning.

You & I

{... and chocolate}



I am blessed.

I dearly hope that each and every one of you have a few forever friends that you know will always be there when you need them.

I know who mine are.

And I adore them to pieces.

---

{two words: time. zones.}

Forever friends are the ones whose emails still make you laugh because you can totally hear the tone of their voice as they type.

Forever friends are the ones that you can be yourself around because they can't judge-- they're just as crazy as you are.

Forever friends are the ones with whom you can get together once a year and you pick up exactly where you left off last time.

Forever friends don't care about distance, time, or medium. When you talk, you have no qualms about teasing each other mercilessly or asking honest questions. You know you can trust them and that no matter how old you get and how much you may have matured since you last parted, you're still ridiculous when you put all y'all together in one room at the same time.

These are the people whose opinions you trust. And when they say something brutally honest that you disagree with, it's not going to end your friendship. You're just going to bring up that one time they did something just as stupid or wore something equally embarrassing that'll counteract their opinion on whatever the subject matter is. Even if you do end up taking their advice, it was still fun to argue about it.

---

{too true, too true}

You see, I have a theory about these forever friends.

You can tell who they are because when you're with them, spending time with them and chattering and hanging out will be a higher priority than taking pictures of said activities.

At least for someone who's big on being behind the camera and capturing moments, I know that when I'm with certain people, I don't think to dig out my camera because I'm too busy enjoying the actual living.

Which is why I have about five pictures from all of today.

Three of which I didn't even take. Someone else borrowed my camera and took a few.

That's how you know when you're with real friends.

When {your friends > the photos}.

I love you guys.


---
Ingrid Michaelson's "You & I" was being hummed while coming up with the title.
Cute song.

Driving Solo

{Vroom Vroom}

Aaaaahhhhhhhh!

I DROVE BY MYSELF TODAY.

THIS IS A BIG DEAL.

AHHHHHHHHHHHH!

---

More importantly, I didn't kill anyone.

Whoo.

Small Children

{Cuteness}

Yesterday was the start of this summer's VBS (Vacation Bible School) at my home church and I'm working in the nursery this year with the itty-bitty ones.

Gaaah, they're so adorable.

After two days of spending four hours with these kids (eight hours total, just in case that got confusing), I think I can say that this is going to be a slooow year.

What I mean is this: all are kids are low maintenance. And by all, I mean the five total that we've gotten so far. For four workers. Tally that up, dears, and what you end up with is four females who don't really know each other, sitting around awkwardly for about an hour and a half every day for the next two weeks while the kiddies take their naps.

It gets better. One of the kiddies is 2 months. Being two months old = sleeping the entire four hours. So having five kids is like having four. For four workers.

Let me reiterate. This is going to be a sloooow year.

To clarify, two years ago when I worked in the nursery, the minimum number of kids we had on any given day was 8 kids for 3 workers. That was crazyfun. I like busy and that was the definition of busy right there. Sigh.

Also, interesting fact. Three of the five kids we've had so far have older siblings who were in the nursery when I was helping out two years ago. And some of their mothers had a kid in between these two. Craaay-zee. Ohmy.

Still, I'm excited for this year. I've made a friend and she's adorbs. Her name is Sienna. This morning, she started sniffling cause her mother had left and the two other little kids in there at the time, Elyse and Terzah, were wailing, but when I came in and sat down on the floor with them, she gathered up all her stuff (she's got a brown and pink polka-dotted blanket and a duck-whale (?) stuffed critter thing she likes to tote around, but all together, it's a bundle as big as she is) and threw herself into my lap. Cutie. Elyse and Terzah were soon happy and quiet, too, in case you were wondering.

Sidenote-- Elyse's mother is 6 feet. Her father is 6 feet 4 inches. This child is tall. I wanna be tall. Sigh.

[Just fyi, the crib in the picture isn't in our nursery. I just really, really like it.]

Thanks, Daddy

My dad is pretty awesome.

---

Thanks, Daddy, for...

... always being able and willing to drive me to and from school almost every week day for over thirteen years. All those mornings of waking up early and all the hot afternoons waiting for me in the car.

... also driving me to and from gymnastics, dance, karate, swimming, art and math lessons; to friends' houses for get-togethers, the library for a ridiculous amount of books, and just wherever when I needed the lift.

... being super patient (and super calm!) while teaching me how to drive. When I was the one freaking out.

... always picking up the phone whenever I call. It makes me feel loved cause I know that no matter what you're doing on the other end, I was more important than it. The fact that you'll make time for me wherever, whenever, is something that I should thank you for more often.

... not going nuts when Mickeyla called you at one in the morning and told you I had fallen on the ice and was in the hospital. I was honestly really surprised that when I called you back after I got back to the dorms at 2:30 am, you still sounded calm, cool, and composed. You're my rock and I felt better because at least one person hadn't gone wide-eyed at the sight of all the blood. [Not that you could, really, since you were six hours away and couldn't see my face and clothes, but the fact that you straight up told me I'd be fine and that face wounds just bleed a lot made me feel better... oddly enough].

... always either telling me to go take a nap or go have an ice cream every time I call home. It makes me smile. Because other people's parents tell them to go do their homework or study harder. Not my Dad. It tells me you trust me to do my best and that you believe that I can handle the workload without you nagging me. And that feels nice.

... believing that I can survive college and that I'll be fine when I'm worried or nervous or scared about how I'm doing in school or managing everything. Your faith in me and the fact that I know you'll always stand behind me no matter what I decide makes me feel better and want to try harder to make you proud.

... being so proud of me and for loving me the crazy way I am for the almost twenty years of my life. I know I can be such a brat at times, but you've always put up with me and forgiven me for everything silly or stupid I've done.

I love you, Daddy.

Happy Father's Day.

And the Time Keeps Tickin'

No one mistook me as under 18 today. I don't know if I should celebrate this moment or be sad cause I must be gettin' ooold.

*sigh*

I'll Miss This Girlie

Meet my roomie.

This girl has had to put up with me for about four (or eight depending on how you count it) years of seeing me almost everysingleday, two of which were spent living with me the entire school year. She deserves props.

It took us pretty much all of last year to figure out how to live with each other without killing one another, but now that we've finally got this down, we're changing things up next year. Which I must say, I'm rather sad about (and nervous too), but at the same time somewhat intrigued about what apartment life will bring. We've gotten quite used to each other, you know.

So while I'll miss the inside jokes and the looks of complete understanding we exchange when we see something that amuses us both and the subconscious things that we do for each other as part of everyday life, I'll be looking forward to taking her and Steph up on their offer to drop by any time and stay awhile, to seeing each other a little less frequently so that when we do run into each other, we actually have stuff to talk about (I really won't know how her day went... Whoaaa), to finding out if I can live with girls other than her and still come out alive, to learn to exist without some sort of attachment to my life before college, and to moving forward with grown-up life.

I'll miss you, ickle girlikins; don't do anything too crazy without me.

PS: Remember-- keys, phone, notebooks, pens, brain. Your keys are probably on your desk, behind your computer, and your glasses are in your closet. And no jumping in rain puddles, you! You're going to catch a cold!

It's Summer Break!

You start to realize it's summer when you go to sleep for the first night at home and turn all your alarm clocks for the morning to 'OFF'. And you know that no one will care if you sleep the entire first day back.

Which, you know, I kinda did...

We left school at 9pm, got home at 3am, hung out for about an hour, and then I went to bed around 6am. (Whaaat, I was reading a book! I never get to read books at school!... I mean... *coughcough* Ones that aren't textbooks? *sheepish grin* I do my class reading. Usually.) Slept until a little before 3pm-- which is nine hours, the normal amount of sleep one's supposed to get... just offset by a few hours maybe-- and then went downstairs 'cause my Mummy had made me lunch and insisted I should eat. It was really good. After which I was sent back to bed because I apparently looked tired. Read some more, fell asleep at 6pm, woke up at midnight, munched and chattered with my parents, and then sorted through one of the boxes that I brought home to dig out my crafting stuff.

And now I'm here. Blogging at 5am. Which, you know, is a normal everyday occurence... Everyone's doing it.

Wait, they aren't?

Oh, shoot.

Finals Week: Spring Quarter 2011

Today, I had Spicy Shrimp Pad Thai with an apple soda for dinner after 11pm on a Monday. This is what we like to call normal college life.

Today, I took my first final of the quarter and I think (I hope!) I did decently well. Although I did realize that finals are really bad for your health. As in, they are supposedly making your brain a lot stronger, but the rest of you is getting weaker because you don't get enough sleep, you don't really eat because it takes too much time, when you do eat, you end up eating something unhealthy (again with the time issue), and you're being antisocial. And then once the actual final comes around, you spend three straight hours hunched over an inkydinky desk, clutching your pen for dear life, writing as fast as you possibly can while your knees are scrunched up against the chairs in front of you. Goodness, that was a lot of commas. But seriously, my back and my right wrist were dying after I walked out of that final. *streeeetch*

Today, I took a really long nap that made my arm all line-filled because I apparently slept on it funny. I looked like I got a full length arm tattoo.

Today, was a decently good day. Oh, finals week. How you kill us poor college students and amuse us all at the same time...

Spring Banquet 2011

I've realized that I just need to write. Formatting a blog comes with time and experience and practice; and if you don't do anything, you can't practice. So. I shall ignore my original formatting of such-and-such article on this certain day and just write about life as it is right now.

That being said, I had a pretty wonderful week.

Not only am I now done with all major projects for this quarter (papers and a debate), but I'm also done with work for this quarter (the Marketing section of our college newspaper)... AAAND it was Spring Banquet yesterday (THE Spring Banquet-- yeah, that's right, you heard me).

I love Spring Banquet.

[I was going to take a photo of my shoes from yesterday, outside where it'd be all pretty and artsy, but it didn't happen. Maybe for the next formal event!]

And today marks another big day-- I'm going to post a picture with my face in it.

*collective gasp*

I know, riiight? But trust me, this photo's pretty gorge if I am allowed to say so myself.

But yes! Photos of Spring Banquet!

The Dress:

It looks a little sad here, but I promise you, once I get these upper arms all toned and beautiful, it just might be my go-to "Aww, I'm so cuuute" dress!

The Theme:

For from Him & through Him & to Him are all things. To Him be the glory forever.

-- Romans 11:36

The Centerpieces... (A Before Look):

They were so pretty-- flickering candles in the sand with shells and pieces of colored glass surrounding it and a mirror underneath to create a deeper look. *sigh* It was really pretty.

Apologies, because I do realize that's kinda dark.

The Small Group of Yesteryear:

We're adorables. I contemplated apologizing for the fuzziness of this photo, but I just so happen to love it, so I don't think any apologies are necessary.

Love these girls.

The Centerpiece... (The Remains):

For some reason, the candle at our table was the only one to look like this-- melted almost to the bottom, with colored wax spilling out of it like a water fountain, filling the mini sand dunes with solid waxy stuff.

Why us?

Although admittedly, it was fun to watch it melt in on itself and disappear... So cool.

The Aftermath: 

This is my artsy photo of the insane number of bobby pins I had in my hair last night (and I'm pretty sure that's only about half... they were falling out all night, so I think I lost a bunch-- sadness!), my bracelet (which is elastic for all of you who were wondering how I got that on my wrist), and my asymmetrical earring choice (which worked out amazingly well because my hair would have tangled so madly with the dangly earrings had I worn both of them).

Can you tell I had fun?

By the Numbers: 

Aiight. So if the bobby pins are grouped into sets of five and there are six full sets and one partial set, just how many bobby pins were left in my hair by the end of the night?

---

So that was my Saturday night. And I thoroughly enjoyed myself. The only regret? I felt a little guilty that my dress was a tad short, but had pushed it out of my brain as not tootoo short until we ran into a guy on our floor in the elevator and when he asked where we were coming from and I said a Christian fellowship banquet, I got a slightly raised eyebrow.

Apparently, it was a tad too short.

*sigh*

Anyways, now that my dress is hanging on its hanger beside me and my roomie is snoring away, I think today would be a good day to get homework done, don't you?

Have a lovely day off tomorrow and for all the fallen soldiers, we love, appreciate, and miss you!

In Which There is a Sign of Life

May I just say, that attempting to blog daily while being a full-time college student, is actually rather hard? I haven't done that well so far, keeping up with posts and everything, and I would say that change is on the horizon, except that I have a Philosophy paper due this upcoming Wednesday, Spring Retreat with my fellowship all of this weekend, and a debate worth quite a lot next Wednesday...

I think that consistency is key to maintaining a successful blog and I'd like to try to do that, but I'm not sure how that's going to work out within the next three weeks. Summer, though, should be better, especially as I don't really know my plans just yet.

So again, apologies, dear readers, and I am trying! Good luck with midterms!

In Which It Begins... In Medias Res

I suppose this blog shouldn't be in existence yet, if only due to the fact that all three of us girls are still in the dorms. And yet, I felt that it would be somewhat fitting if we started this project early. After all, we're looking at apartments, aren't we? And so you, reader dear, get to come along for the journey that started not too long ago. Meet my future apartmentmates.

There's Emma. She's our social one. Sometimes a tad disorganized, but then again, so am I during testing season. And she's a quiet genius. As in, the girl is crazy smart, but she never flaunts it or mentions her GPA, so unless you specifically ask her about it, you might miss out on her geniusness. What you can't help but notice, however, is her hilariousness. Emma is one of the most quotable people on the planet. No, seriously.

And then there's Shellie. Our dancer, she's just a bit unconventional. She's always willing to lend a listening and sympathizing ear, though, and is amazingly talented at pretty much everything. And she finds Emma and I amusing, which is kind of a necessity since we get pretty weird while studying late into the night.

And me. I'm Samantha, and beyond that, I'm not sure what to say about myself. I think I'll just leave that up to you to figure out... or my roomies to clarify. *laughs* Oh dear.

Welcome to the madness we call college life. Oh! And the reason behind our name, Paper Lantern Lane? At the moment, it may just be the only thing we're in full agreement on for our apartment next year-- we must have paper lanterns in our apartment. Absolutely must. Everything else, we'll figure it out later.

Pink & Tangerine Paper Lanterns