Perfectionist, me?

More than once in life, I have this faint idea that I am more of a perfectionist that I am willing to admit:

1. I believe: “If you don’t get a 100% on a test, then it’s nothing”. This belief gives me enough motivation to spend more hours than I want in the library and much less in everywhere else. It also gives me the 100% chance of disappointment of after getting test scores. (Even if the test is easy, then the percent expected would be leveled up to 120%)

2. Architecture, fashion, music, journalism, psychology, biology, international relations, humanity, linguistic, relationship, graphic design, culinary, martial arts: these are all the fields that I want to excel in. Yes, all of them.

3. My ideal boyfriend:
- British accent with a deep and low voice that brings immense warmth
- Play instrument”s”, preferably guitar and piano, compose, sing and dance
- Doesn’t have to be a genius but at least not a douche bag
- Mentally and physically healthy
- Just a right amount of romanticism and realism, not too much, not too little
- DO NOT sweet talk
- Decent-looking
- Conversationally entertaining
- Organized and responsible
- Level of maturity higher than a high-schooler
- Have enough love chemical in his heart
- Good sense of fashion
- High level of endurance and patience
- Strong enough to stand up for himself

Above is the [excessively] simplified version of my ideal life.

The first 2 items are to prove the extent of my ridiculous-ism. The third item is the one that has circled my mind for the past week and it will keep circling around there and drive me crazy unless I do something about it. So I write.

I am not an idealist. I am a realist. Therefore, I know better than to rely on more than 15% of that list. As a perfectionist, I have to shamefully admit that, more than often, I overlook up to 12 out of 14 these items. I categorize guys into smaller and more practical lists: “The good-looking”, “The nice personality”, “The perfect”, “The potential”, “The friends” and “The gimme-a-break” and I rank them. The ranks are dynamic; they change accordingly to words, actions and behaviors.

The thing is, you have to understand, I do try not to judge them boys but it is a difficult thing to avoid in this world full of dishonesty and ambiguity. I just want to protect my fragile soul and unstable mental mind.

In my opinion, creating a relationship is nothing more than solving a science problem using the algorithmic method:
1. You use your instinct and intuition, attempting to understand the nature of the problems.
2. If your intuition is correct, good for you. If your intuition is incorrect, you need to move on to a more time-consuming strategy. You try to look at the problem with another view, and test it out.
3. After various attempts, eventually you will find the correct answer and be happy. If you do not have enough patience and persistence, you give up. It can be sad, it can be disappointing, but eventually you will move on to another problem and start over.

Unfortunately, science has proved that intuition often brings about more inaccuracy and mistake than one wants. Also more than often, life has cruelly proved that patience and persistence do not always pay off. As a result, there are, indeed, many unsolvable problems in this world and most likely, they will be unsolvable until there comes an extremely outstanding, and also extremely lucky, figure.

From stepping over and recovering from many mistakes, I learn to overlook (many) certain things, to give numerous chances, to reassure myself with positive, to conceive optimistic and humanistic thoughts, to look at things from numerous aspects and to repeatedly put my endurance and forgiveness levels into tests. I swear to my heart, that the one who is ranked number one my list right now, the one who I have a crush on right now is nowhere to close to the list of perfection, he miraculously makes it to the top, just because my emotions overweight everything else.

Sometimes, a girl, regardless of how realistic and how rational she is, gives in to passion and emotions. Sometimes, however, all of these good virtues are too much to take and a girl has the right to be out of control, to break down, shed tears of disappointment, of pain and of unhappiness and to rightfully give up. Sometimes, it is too much to ask for.

It is often said that most girls are rather particular about guys. It is not the case. Girls make endless lists of impossible/ideal boyfriend but she disregards the lists at the moment her heart gives in. Guys, as a matter of fact, have more [great] expectations that they appear to be. Consider these:

1. When a guy considers a girl pretty, he puts into mind her skin complexion, eyes, lips, cheekbones, eyelashes, eyebrows and hair. Girls have to stock up on cleanser, toner, moisturizer, lotion, foundation, powder, oil control,sunscreen, day cream, and night cream with different pH levels (we learn more about pH through makeups than through Chem lecture). Girls get comments when her skin is too pale, too tanned, too dry, too oily, her foundation is too thick or that the blush is too pink. Girls need lipsticks, lipgloss, eyeliner, eyeshadow, eyelash curler, mascara, false lashes, etc. Even her nails have to cut, filed and polished. Seriously, who cares if a guy does not have smooth skin, or that his eyelashes are not long and thick enough, or that his hair is not perfectly made? Who gives a guy a comment like “Jeez, your skin is really dry”. “Look, you have split ends!” or “Ugh, you should repaint your nails.”

2. Moving away from the face comes the body. A “hot” girl, depends on cultural views, should be either skinny or has perfect curves. If a girl is born with naturally perfect body shape, good for her. If not, it is a constant struggle, of social preferences and of self-esteem. Why is it that girls have higher rate of eating disorders that guys do? Because we are expected to be perfect. Who cares if a guy finishes a whole pizza by himself? Who cares if a guy eat 5 meals a day? While on the other hand, girls have to plan her diet, watch her calories, stock her fridges with fruits and yogurt and reluctantly turn away from the cookies, and get criticized for doing so. For god sake, girls share the same love for food just as anyone else on earth does then why does she have to constantly repress that thought? Besides the skinny types, there are girls who have to consume more sugar or fat then do particular exercises to get the “right curves”.

3. A girl is always expected to smell like a Victoria Secret store, not only her body, but her hair, her clothes, her purse and her room. However, the process of getting the perfect scent is not that simple. The perfume has to fit her ages, images and personality. Yes, a scent that fits personalities.

4. Of course, a girl cannot only have a pretty face, a good body and an appealing smell, but also has to be smart. She cannot be too smart though, which explains why sometimes girls have to play dumb to get guys. There are living proofs out there of women who are successful in their careers, financially independence and either single or suffering from multiple divorces.

5. Girls are expected to have good sense of fashion and therefore, to dress nicely. Colors have to be matched. Too revealing makes you a slut. Too conservative makes you non-attractive. Everything has to be at a perfect level. Not everyone is a fashion designer, you know.

6. And, it cannot be neglected that a girl also needs a perfect personality. There are different combinations: the good and loving girl, the active and outgoing girl and the sexy and attractive girl. If a girl is shy then she should act girly, cute, kind and extremely caring. Or she has to be friendly, outgoing, has a radiant smile, an enjoyable laugh and is able to make you smile all the time. Or she has to be flirty, sexy and driving your mind crazy. Where is the chance for a girl who does not satisfy all the requirements to fit in the categories? Where is the place for a funny and outgoing girl who sometimes has her moments and throws a fit? Where is the place for a smart, argumentative, ambitious yet tremendously caring and loving one?

7. Rarely, it is acceptable for a girl to be straightforward and “pushy”. Girls have to be patient and tell themselves not to send many texts, not to be obvious, play cool, play hard-to-get, and many other rules while her heart and mind are frustrated by the ambiguity and confusing words and actions of the guys. However, it is also not the right thing to do if a girl just sits around and waits for the love of her life to come. Again, every texts, every words, every actions a girl throw out there have to be FREAKING JUST RIGHT! Sometimes, a girl just wants to scream out loud "GOD DAMN IT, can't you just say it already? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING PLAYING WITH MY FEELINGS?"

I give up. I can’t do this anymore. It is too much for me to take. I am a perfectionist but how much effort do I have to put in just to find a person who truly cares? There are numerous times when I wish I do not have to force myself in the freezing cold shower, wish I do not have to spend an extra half an hour to put on makeup every morning, wish I do not have to remember all the skincare products whenever I pack, wish I do not have to make sure my nails look decent, etc. Cosmetics maybe my interest and fashion maybe my obsession but it’d be great if I can say I pursue those purely for pleasure, not for living up to expectations.

People can give me wise advices and tell me that I do not have to conform to the world, that I do not have to care about what other people things and that I can just live the way I want. What if the way I want to live is to live up to other people’s expectations? Then does that mean I have no choice but to conform? I have, numerously, reinvented my personality. I have tried many different characteristics: shy, quiet, studious, rebellious, outgoing, friendly, moody, caring, nonchalant, talkative, flirty …

What else do I have to do? I overlook things in other people but do people overlook things in me? What the hell do I have to do to be “just right”? If I can solve this with a math equation, I totally would. I am not desperate to be in a relationship. I still think relationships are bothersome. I'd love to be single and live life simply. Sometimes I don't say what I mean and I don't mean what I say. Sometimes I do not know what my heart wants and what my mind thinks.

I am cynical and I am judgmental. I speak my mind and I write my heart out. If my chaotic and frustrated thoughts bother you, speak your mind.

[az]

Just a little bit more love?

Imagine this:
One of those days, when the temperature drops to below 20 degree and the brutal wind is having fun with practicing its 100m sprint, you are wrapped up in layers of blanket, enjoying one of those “good-feeling” movies. With no worries in mind, you just relax and enjoy the moment.

Or this:
On the corner of the street, under a lonely street lamp, like a shadow, you’re standing. The night is clear and you can smell the crisped air. Your thoughts drift away to somewhere faraway. The bad news blows your mind. Your heart shatters and you feel like the world is crumbling underneath you.

Ask yourself what you’d feel in both situations.
What kind of feelings would be suitable in both scenes, you would ask?
Solitude, I would answer.

Whether it is a joyous or devastating moment, relaxing or stressful situation, in the middle of nowhere or on the busy street of the city, more than often, I would have this desire to feel a touch. Never mind the passionate embrace, or a loving hug. Never mind cuddling or being watched while falling asleep. If I could get those, that’s fabulous. If not, I’d be satisfied with just a light and tingling feeling of warmth, just a touch, on the hand, on the arm, on the shoulder, a pat on the head or even a heartfelt, invisible feeling of someone sitting next to me, for me to lean on whenever I need the support. Or at least, that's what I told myself.

It gets me thinking, what is it about these trivial physical movements that makes my heart ache? Since when do these become such fancy necessity in my daily life?

I have to make it clear that I had quite a reserved attitude toward physical contact. Growing up in a rather strict environment, I get to appreciate the hug and the touch. Sisters are huggable. Mommy is huggable if you are under age 5. Daddy is not huggable unless he has had some drinks with his friends. Male cousins are not huggable after age 10. Dogs and cats are huggable as long as they don’t end up on your bed. Girlfriends are huggable. Boyfriends are not huggable. The boyfriend does not even make the list. All are touchable except for boyfriends and the secret boyfriend.

I don’t know how I felt when I was first introduced to the liberal view of the hug and the touch. It took me by surprise, made me wonder “Really, I can do that?”

Eventually, it has become part of my life. I thought it was a good thing. There is nothing wrong with showing how we feel for each other. As friends, as lovers, as family, (as Barney), we give each other hugs. We hug when we’re happy, when we’re sad, when we’re angry or even for no reason at all.

There are also numerous other ways to express our feelings physically: holding hands, patting on the head, leaning on shoulders, cuddling, and many more. As humans, our pleasure in touching and holding those we love never cease? Human attachment consists of one person providing another with a safe haven when distressed and a secure base on which to explore. We need someone to stand by us, so that, by their existence, we know of our own. At all ages, we are social creatures. We gain strength when someone offers us, by words and actions, a safe haven: “I will be here. I am interested in you. Come what may, I will support you.” We spend our lives look for the source of that strength.

However, it gets me thinking, will these physical expressions ever lose their meanings from being overused. Once in my life, I thought it must be really special to get a hug. Now, I want more than just a hug to feel special. Or do I not?

Millions, billions, trillions sugar-coated words may not be able to penetrate my rational mind. Nevertheless, one single touch, one degree difference of warmth and my mind goes blank and my heart melts. Isn’t supposed to be only love that brings about the physical attachment? Or is it the physical attachment itself that brings about the feelings? Is it really my heart that wavers, or is it just my body reacts by instinct? It is mysterious. It is confounding. It leaves my feelings bewildered and my mind dazed. If I am already used to this liberal view, then why is it so goddamn irritating? Why is it that I want to unveil the supposedly casual message underlies these casual movements so bad my heart aches

What exactly the hell does a hug convey? What the hell is the logic for my bubbling feeling caused by such a mere touch?
So frustrating …

[az] Oct 09 Song playing: Skin On Skin - Sarah Connor
Just a little bit more love
Just a little bit more passion
This is how it should begin
Skin on skin ...

Heres a true romance
Be aware and take your chance
Tomorrow Im gonna leave you
But I am here for you tonight ....

Just a little getting close
Just a little more affection
Cause I dont think its a sin
Skin on skin

Dont you know that this game is to play
Just as long as its time
Cant you see that my hearts gotta know
When youre gonna be mine
So we better get it on
What is here will soon be gone
When the leaves are falling
Then maybe we could fall apart ....

[Sensation]

For me, nothing can be worse than waking up to a grey, cloudy sky and raindrops falling on my window pane. Despite my obsession for fall/winter clothing and accessories, I find it depressing to admit that the days of spring and summer have gone and along with them, gone a bit of my cheerful spirit. I cannot express enough how much I love the golden rays of morning sunshine and the vast, clear blue sky. The shade of blue that makes my heart ache and my mind go blank every single time. It is like love at first sight over and over and over again.

For some reasons, gloomy days always put me in an extremely unstable state of mind and push that already established mood swing a little bit further on the edge. I hate it when my mood changes like Juicy Couture store changes their mannequins’ accessories: chaotic, unnecessary and it makes people wonder what the hell their problem is. If I could stabilize my mood just by hiring a better store manager with a better sense of what going on in the world beside his own, I could have done that long time ago. Unfortunately, that is just simply impossible.

A rainy day, a cup hot beverage and a glass window is all you need to shut my nonstop blabbering and over-energetic self off. Although I may make some attempts to cheer up my own day but they are all vain attempts. My mind wanders off, and most of the time, to the better, happier days of the past.

Memory is an extremely ambiguous concept. I hate the feeling that I can never get a grasp on my memories and never able to control them the way I want. They would fade away when I try desperately to hold on to them and they flood back in my head when I do not want any pieces of them. And rainy days are the times when they always seem to find their way back, whether I want it to happen or not.

Have you ever had that feeling when your Ipod plays a song that you have not listened for ages, and that song carries with it tons of images and emotions that bring tears to your eyes? That is exactly how I feel, often enough that it bothers my unsettling mind. And my senses are sensitive enough that even trivial things can trigger the flow of memories.

One of those days my Ipod would randomly play a song that makes me suddenly stop in the middle of what I am doing, and feel what I had felt ages ago. Those are the songs that I listened to on road trips with my family, songs that my friends and I practiced dancing to over and over again, songs that I listened to on the way to school and secretly during classes, songs that played in the background as I cried for the sad ending of my favorite drama, songs that played during the slow dance during homecoming, or songs that played on the guitar by an anonymous figure that I refuse to recall.

More often than needed, it would rain outside and the pouring rain replays the slow movies of my life. All the rains that have never failed to fall on my birthday. The freezing rain that I cursed out every morning on my way to school. The sheets of needles that colored the beach with a white and foggy shade and a feeling of solitude. The continuous rain that remind me to appreciate the warmth and the cup of coffee that I was holding in my hands. The stormy weather that made me feel lucky I had a hand to hold on to and an umbrella held steadily over me. It has dawn on me that I have just as many memories under the sunshine as those under the grey sky. However, for an unknown reason, I rarely reminisce those.

There would be days when I walk down the street and a faint smell of Love Spell would bring me vivid pictures of the days I spent in Boston or the times in FA that I was obsessed with Victoria Secret’s lotions. Smell of Vietnamese food reminds me of home and of the time I spent with the other Vietnamese cooking for International Day or just for fun. My hand itches when I smell of fresh baked cookies or cakes, I want to get into the kitchen and start baking cakes like I did for Zala and Pauline. I miss the smell of hot lemon tea and ramen noodles that I desperately tried to get rid of. Even the smell of gasoline, oil, hot dry sun or freshly painted wall can remind me of tons of things.

I can even recall feelings that I felt while watching movies, or all the excitement that I have felt while laughing in all the pictures I kept. All these extra sensitiveness really gets on my nerves. It gets in my way of rational thinking. I don’t feel being in control of myself. Those feelings are too sentimental for me to endure.

Then somehow I found myself thinking about fate, and about how many people have gone through my life. After all those good memories, the least we can do for each other is a “happy birthday”, in which the only reason I remember is because facebook reminds me. People come, people go. Some stay for a long time and do not leave much impression. Some come for only a short period of time but take away with them tiny bits of my heart. During those times, I feel sad but then I get over it fast enough that people may consider myself a bit cruel and cold-hearted.

I thought to myself, I have to move on. If I keep living in the past, then I would not be able to recognize all the good things that will come in the future. After all, things change, people change, I may not able to recall all of them, but I believe they will still be there in my memory, or my heart (figuratively speaking). Memories keep building up on themselves and if I have to rely on these trivial stimuli to trigger them, then let it be that way.

Sunday Oct 4th, 2009
Location: Carlson Library, Rochester, New York, U.S.A
Weather: Rainy, cold, and gloomy
Activity: supposedly reading Psychology chapter on Emotional Intelligence
Music: Goong OST

Why sex?

Biologically speaking, it is inevitable that sex plays a crucial role to every species as it basically determines the route of DNA that will be passed on to the next generation. It can be said that sex and reproduction are instincts that exists to serve the purpose of survival and evolution. That got me thinking (I think a lot, don’t I?): Does human, the most advanced and developed species, still acts on instinct when it comes to sex?

It is necessary to take in consideration the basic condition of sexual selection: to look for the best mate in order to produce quality and probable offspring. This is also known as reproductive fitness. In the wild world, within species, animals compete against each other to win over an “outstanding” mate. Put it in Darwin’s words, sexual selection is the “struggle between the individuals of one sex, generally the males, for the possession of the other sex”. It is the same situation within human species, millions of sperms are produced but only one can reach the egg and become the important one. This process, however, is uncontrollable by human. What is it, then, that human look for when they consider their partners?

Evolutionary psychology says that human respond to different things. Attraction ranges from appearance, voices, movements to personality. Experiments have found out that for short-term relationships, women tend to pick out more physically attractive and masculine guys; while for long-term relationship, the majority of women pay more attention to personality and actions.

As a matter of fact, human prefers mates with strong gene pools in order to preserve the quality of their later generations. As a result, most people know that, logically, they should be out looking for “high quality” characteristics in their partners: beauty, sexiness, strength, intelligence, capability and, the list goes on. Everyone wants their partners to be a successful, attractive and outstanding person. Nevertheless, most of the time, it seems like we just go with what brings about good feelings. A person does not have to possess all top-notch quality but still can be surprisingly attractive to another person.

It seems that we cannot quite understand yet the causes and control of infatuation, desire and, here comes the big word, love. That means we might not know who our “perfect partner” a.k.a “soul mate” is. Then, do we choose “THE other half” by “The guidelines of good gene pool” in the biology book? Or do we choose by the butterflies in our stomach? It is a pretty common belief that women tend to use the left more emotional side of their brains and men the right more logical side. But is it really that cut and dry? It seems that when it comes to affairs of the heart, there's a battle between what we know and what we feel. So what do you do when you find yourself in a situation that leaps back and forth between the left and the right side? When it comes to relationships, is it a matter of the heart, or the head? And, where exactly does sex come into the picture? Does it belong to the head, or the heart?

[Az]

How'd you like your coffee?

“Good morning, on July 7.

Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, now and then joyfully, then sadly, waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear us - I can live only wholly with you or not at all - Yes, I am resolved to wander so long away from you until I can fly to your arms and say that I am really at home with you, and can send my soul enwrapped in you into the land of spirits - Yes, unhappily it must be so - You will be the more contained since you know my fidelity to you. No one else can ever possess my heart - never - never - Oh God, why must one be parted from one whom one so loves. And yet my life in V is now a wretched life - Your love makes me at once the happiest and the unhappiest of men - At my age I need a steady, quiet life - can that be so in our connection? My angel, I have just been told that the mailcoach goes every day - therefore I must close at once so that you may receive the letter at once - Be calm, only by a calm consideration of our existence can we achieve our purpose to live together - Be calm - love me - today - yesterday - what tearful longings for you - you - you - my life - my all - farewell. Oh continue to love me - never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved.

ever thine
ever mine
ever ours”

Yes, indeed, this is the famous love letter that was quoted more than once in Sex and the City. I was so impressed, and moved, by the phrase “ever thine, ever mine, ever ours” that I went out of my way to do a research on whether there exists such a book as “Love Letters from Great Men” in an attempt to get my very own copy. The truth is, there was no such book (what a shame). However, since these are, indeed, love letters from great men, it wasn’t at all difficult to attain a copy of them.

Going through these heart-moving letters one by one really gets me thinking: what if one day, I wake up and find a version of a so-called love letter, hand written and fill with sweet, romantic words, left by an anonymous being on my desk, how would I feel?

Would my heart flutters with warm feelings, knowing that in this world, there is a person who would welcome me with such a special “good morning” it makes my day filled with radiant sunlight and an unlimited source of energy? Would I be so captivated by his words that I would immerse myself in the world of him and my love for him?

That certainly does not sound right to me. Indeed, this, would be my reaction: “What the fuck?”, with a raised eyebrow, goosebumps and a doubtful mind. I would be filled with such confusion and agitation and would tell my friends as if it was a joke. They would reply with “ew”, “yuck” and as many negative words as one can imagine.

Although, deep inside, I probably was waiting for a confirmation that such a romantic movement still exist in this world. I thought to myself, isn’t it strange how girls watch tearful dramas and heart-felt movies, they read novels and fictions that are filled with Prince Charming and sweet moments, dreaming of their own story, yet, when they face with their dreamt scenes in reality, they turn away with such hostility. As for myself, I feel perfectly comfortable without a relationship. I enjoy the feeling of being in control and independent. Affectionate actions and smooth words, for me, associate with phony guys and send the shiver down my spine.

When I put my status as “How would you feel if one day you walk out of the door and see the love of your life” and the only answer I got was “then you know that he is a freaking traitor because nothing is worth love at first sight”, I know that the situation has reach the alert level. They just can’t take it, can they?

It really gets me thinking. Have we settled for a sugar-free existence? I mean, nowadays, we accept Tasty Delight instead of ice cream, a cup of concentrated café au lait with absolute no sugar, emails instead of letters, screaming music instead of love songs, jokes instead of poetry. It is no wonder when we face the real thing, we can’t stomach it. Is it something we could learn to digest, once again? Or have we all become romantic – intolerant?

I wonder, have I forgotten the feeling of anxiously waiting for a familiar figure to appear at the classroom’s door? Have I disregard the helpless attempt to control the blood rushing to my cheek or to control the heart that is furiously out of beat? Have I ignored the exuberant feelings after receiving even a three-word text, yet gaining a source of energy that would lead me through the day with the smile constantly on my face, feeling like I’m flying above the ground? Have I not taken into consideration the warmth of the fingers that take my hands protectively when I couldn’t find my way in the dark? Or have I not thought about the arms that put around me tenderly and the voice that sooths away my frustrations and tears?

It seems that once my heart gets hurt, I forget all about the sweetness and all that remains are pain and wounds. Somebody has said, love gives girls energy and motivation. I wonder how much energy and motivation toward the next love does a girl need to be able to move on? I wonder if the consequences are so great that I even have to tell myself that I must build up my own immune system to defend against the sugar-coated toxic virus.

Human are weak, because it hurts, we try to avoid it. However, would it be a shame if because of the fear of the bitterness, we deny our moments of sweetness?

Would you really want to enjoy a delightful cup of café au lait with cream and sugar? Or would you rather endure the bitterness to spare the consequences that the tiny teaspoon for sugar would do to their heart and blood pressure? That, is your decision to make.

After all, computers crash, people die, relationships fall apart, the best we can do is breath, and reboot. And when that fails, a little spoon of optimism and hope can provide us with a surprising amount of comfort.

So can a boyfriend, if you can learn to let him in (and learn not to say “What the fuck?” on receiving a love letter.)

[Az]
Sept 7, 09

What if ...

Saigon’s sky in a summer afternoon is always covered with grey clouds and thunder and lightning that forewarn the upcoming pouring rain. Saigon’s streets in the afternoon are always filled with many different types of people coming home from work, going to work, with students rushing home or to their next cram school. I was standing outside the shopping center waiting for my sister to make a quick grocery run, sipping milk tea with bobba, watching needles and needles of rain falling and listening to Single by New kids on the block. For me, time suddenly stood still. For one second, I remembered all the times when I myself was in secondary school, when I was just like any of these students in front of me, in the familiar white and blue uniform that I totally disliked, laughing and teasing each other while enjoying the sweet and fresh taste of the all time favorite milk tea. I surely was enjoying the moment. For the brief moment, I was living the life of a fourteen year old all over again.

Rochester’s sky is also covered with grey clouds and occasional rain. Yet the feeling is different. Sitting at the desk typing these words, remembering of all the good time I had with friends and family at home, remembering the comfortable feelings of being home and having someone to take care of you, remembering the feeling of having nothing to worry about and knowing that I would be safe no matter what, I can’t help but wonder: What if I had never left?

At that moment, I realized that so many years had passed, and I certainly have grown up. I got to think about days gone by, that carefree time when I was still a child indulging in luxury and was spoiled to the core, that time when I had not much to worry about except for passing tests and keeping that GPA of mine over the acceptable level. I remembered middle school, and high school, the period of time that I hated so much because of various reasons (people, drama, pressure, stressful work …) now seems so dear to me that how much I wish I could be able to go back and … hate it all over again. I remembered the first years of coming to America with all the excitement of a curious kid who thought that she finally had her dream come true and who, really, at that time, did not anticipate all the difficulties that she would have to face.

When you're young, your whole life is about the pursuit of fun. Then, you grow up and learn to be cautious. You look before you leap and sometimes you don't leap at all because there's not someone to catch you. And in life, there's no safety net. When does it stop being fun and start being scary? I think about the fact that I’m no longer the curious and excited teenager. Decisions are mine to make. It freaks me out and I’m confused, and feeling insecure because of the pressure. Any action that I take now would has a certain effect on my life, whether it’s the courses that I am going to take in college, or whether I should move in to an apartment to save money, or what am I going to do after undergraduate school. Maybe I have thought to far, and I can use that excuse to brush off my anxiety, but it dawns on me that, I will have to make these decisions sooner or later. Even though my parents are always there to support me when I need them, I can no longer toss all the responsibility on their shoulders. The weight is on mine now and I even want to make it easier for them. I wish I could take care of everything so that they don’t have to worry about me. I want the confidence that I will need in order to go through this. I want to do this right and do it well.

Now that all the excitement and curiosity of a young and inexperienced teenager has gone and are now replaced by fear and insecurity, all the “what ifs” questions pop up. What if I had stayed at home, what if I had listened to my parents and stayed with my relatives, what if I had chosen a more affordable but has less academic reputation college, …

We often look at our pasts with a handful of “what ifs” and “coulda, shoulda, woulda”. What if I did this, what if I did that or I could have done this then maybe I would have been that … blah blah blah. All that past and past participle tense can build up tension and turn any nineteen year olds into an elderly after a few minutes. As we speed along this endless road to the destination called "who we hope to be" we can't help but whine "Are we there yet?"

Yet sometimes I wonder, do I really miss the past that much? And exactly how much excited I need to be looking forward to the future to keep myself from wandering back to all the good old memories? And every time I look back, will I be better or bitter?

[az]