This weekend!!!!

 

Not only is it JOHNNY DEPP. Not only is it TIM BURTON. But it's also one of my favorite pieces of literature (right up there with To Kill A Mockingbird and The Catcher in the Rye). 

I have been anticipating this movie for TWO years!!!! I heard about it being leaked on a film blog two years and almost died of pure unadulterated excitement. Cannot --- I repeat, CANNOT wait to see this movie! 

What a way to end such a crappy week of testing. Not only do I think I failed miserably on my Health 101 exam, but I think I did TERRIBLE on my Chemistry 107 as well (which is even more heart wrenching since it's my third time taking the class) AND I got a 76% on my Psychology 101 exam that was ONLINE (which is a disgrace since I guess I could've looked up the correct answers had I had enough sense to do so). 

I am hoping that I can turn this rough beginning to a school year around. At least now I know what to expect with each teacher.

I am hanging on by a thread...

This morning I woke up and felt this nauseating feeling in my stomach. As if my intestines were arguing angrily with the rice I ate the night before - rumbling hard to get the rice the hell off their turf.

And that'd be okay, if it didn't wake me up abruptly at 3 AM - when I hadn't gone to bed until midnight after trying to finish my Chemistry homework. Which by the way, wasn't a successful attempt at all.

There's a quiz tonight on Nomenclature - and I could no more name my stuffed animals when I was younger - much less name ionic and binary compounds. Who am I kidding?

I just keep thinking that if I keep hanging on by this thread - and keep tugging - maybe I'll find the end of the string that leads to the full spool, so I can get my act together. I'm not nervously breaking down or anything, the stress actually helps keep me grounded and centered, in a weird, funky sort of way.

I do hope I can make up for all the points I've lost so far by not being able to complete the damned homework.

Meet me at the crossroads (Echo & Fade: crossroads...crossroads)

There is no better way to explain how I feel at this precise moment than to tell you that I am at a definite and indefinite crossroads.

For the most part 2008 has become synonymous with the word "change" for me. A transition of sorts that keeps spiraling me further and further into a point where I realize - I just need to let go. There comes a point in a person's life when you just cannot have control over any thing.

I got offered a position as an M.A. for a doctor's office close-by. I had gotten a call sometime last week from my old Biology teacher who had recommended me for the position. Believe me, I was excited - but at the same time, I am really frightened. And I don't know why.

I always keep telling myself that I need a change - and yet, when one comes, I shy away. In all things. I am such a weirdo like that.

The doctor's office would train me. I don't have to know a damned thing. I was scared they wouldn't want to hire me, partially because I am so young in my educational career - with only a few science credits under my belt, and no challenging lab experiences - let alone real-time patient interaction.

But now they want to offer me the job. And I'm scared. Why? Why am I so frightened of something that would really be beneficial for me in the long run?

Well, for one thing, I'd be making significantly less. But the hours are flexible and all over the place. That has its good and bad points. Good: I'd be able to space my classes farther apart, and attend more classes and be able to have more study time (because I am currently WAY behind in my Spanish Web class. I don't know how I am going to catch up, EVER. But I have to get an A!). Bad: I probably wouldn't have consistent times off. Not that that is really bad- it's just something to think about.

Also, with such a cut in pay, I would have to take on a second job. Most likely a retail one - because no corporate job (unless I worked as a secretary or something) would be able to let me work part time with some goofy-ass hours.

This is what I want- isn't it? This is the start of my new chapter/phase in my life, right? A start towards my future, and what I've been working my ass off for the past couple of months for.

So why do I feel like such a chicken shit ready to piss my pants?

Being Sick

I have had this "cold" off and on since the beginning of the year. Well, okay, I had a slight fever on the 2nd of the month, and then it went away.

But starting Sunday, I gained this lovely sex-phone operator's voice that I currently possess, and cannot shake. I know that the infection is gone. I just had a sinus infection for a day or two and poof! It is gone today.

This cough is just getting a little bit on my nerves. I know I shouldn't complain, because as it stands, this is not the worst case that I have ever had. I remember being deathly sick when I was younger and this is certainly no where near that - but it does suck when the weather is so nice outside and I feel crummy inside.

I am just looking forward to the weekend, and actually, I know this sounds weird - but purchasing my books for this semester is getting me pretty perky. Mainly because I chose semi-easy classes this semester (*knock on wood*) to accompany my Chemistry 107 class. (which by the way is requiring yet ANOTHER chemistry textbook, of course they couldn't be nice and use the textbook I used just LAST semester for this semester. Of course not.)

This year I am learning to be smarter about the book buying thing though. I am going to finally use this Amazon.com thing that everyone has been raving about to me all these years. See if I can get a discount. And then get reimbursed with my book credit later on. I have a lot of schooling ahead of me and might as well scrimp and save where I can.

I am so behind...

I know, I know people... my birthday has gone and passed, and what's worse? Three people have blogged birthday wishes for me on my actual birthday... way before I even got to do the same thing!!

Blah, I will get to it eventually. 'Tis the season to keep your sanity cap on tightly, brave those massively packed mall corridors and purchase gifts for every Tom, Dick, Jane and Harry that you know (I know more guys than girls, what can I say?) and hurry your ass home so you can wrap them all up with nice paper and ribbon, etc., etc., etc...

It might sound like I am a bit "bah humbug-ish" but really, I do love this time of season sans the damn Christmas carols! I love going out and buying gifts for all my close friends and family, and wrapping them up, and then seeing the surprised faces and happy faces all over the place.

But this year is different. I am just not ready. At all. It's bad when John Basedow, Jr has totally and fully completed his X-mas shopping and I have still five or six people to buy for...that's bad. Why? Because I specifically remember several years being spent going out the day before X-mas to help him buy gifts for everyone. It was fun, but I was glad it was him that was behind and not me. And now, it's me. Revenge has reared its ugly, nasty head.

So I guess that's why this year's holidays hasn't been as pleasant as it should be for me. And it should be tons pleasant. Mainly because I can drive myself ANYWHERE and EVERYWHERE to go X-mas shopping. Which, might I add, I have been. I am loving it, and have grown to love driving more and more each day - except for parallel parking...that's not something I love at all.

Alas, though, I haven't forgotten to write about my birthday. I love all that were able to make it out to celebrate - it made my year to see all those happy faces. And a great big love to all those who couldn't, just 'cause you weren't there doesn't mean that I didn't feel your love in other ways this year. I have been completely blessed with everything that I have overcome this year - and all of the friendships that I have that have grown stronger, and new ones that I am excited are just beginning... and just all the wonderful growth that I feel that I have made for myself, personally - even though the times were tough and sometimes ugly - I feel that I have come out a better person, a more confident woman, and I am finally for the first time in my life loving almost everything about myself - and learning to accept the things about myself that I can't change and don't necessarily love all that much. And that's okay.

I promise, pictures, pictures people. I really promise. But hey, I am in a procrastinating mood recently. I just registered for class last night on my laptop in an oversized t-shirt that I got for free from the Irish Festival last year and my comfy brown robe with a cup of hot chocolate listening to the rain beat against my bedroom window... God, it felt so amazing to be lazy. But I knew I had to register soon or die. DIE, I tell you! I still have to go to school later on this week and argue the fact that my financial aid is not showing up on the system to cover my registration from being cancelled. Nothing ever works out like a piece of cherry pie for me... but that's what makes life so interesting with me.

I also promise, more thought provoking posts later on...I have been writing in my journal more and more, reunited my music roots back to John Mayer's "Any Given Thursday" and Radiohead's "Pablo Honey" and cried, and explored my inner workings... and have lots of mind-tittilating subjects that I have feasted my mind on to share with all of you.

***Quick Shout-out to Ms. PT & Jolee*** Thanks for "forcing" me out on Friday night, and "forcing" me to celebrate my belated birthday with you two, and "forcing" me to go to 1722 and talk with the meathead in the back lounge area so I could be your "guy friend" that night. Haha. Have fun in Taiwan, Ms. PT and Jolee, you know I am there for you no matter what.

Baby Steps

Saturday did not turn out how I had expected. It ended up that very early in the morning I realized that I had misplaced the bag that held my Anthralin and now had to retrace my steps. The bag had to be somewhere between my work on Friday, the quick stop at my apartment and then finally, my parents' house.

Once the first half of the morning was spent running a rampage through my parents' house with no success, I realized it had to either be my place or at work. I was praying for it to be at my place.

So I had my father drive me over, and I ran up the steps, trying to focus, trying to find that bag. Nope, no bag. But I grabbed another outfit to wear (since I was wearing sweats and I was headed to a study group later on at 1 pm @ Barnes and Nobles) and headed out the door.

That left the last place: my office. I've never been there on a Saturday - much less a Saturday morning. It's quite boring - and walking into the building left a weird feeling. There was so much silence, such a sense of emptiness that I felt - as if during the week the building's walls had been so pregnant with the full bustle of workers, diners at Della Rose's and customers perusing the spa on the 3rd floor and suddenly, once 5 pm Friday evening hit, the building was quickly emptied. Just like that. It felt like a foreign country - my sneaker steps echoing against the marble - and I suddenly noticed that three quarters of the main lobby were still unleased.

Well, I found my medicine. Thank God the security guard at the desk recognized me. I had taken my work badge just in case there might be trouble, but I also knew that it probably wouldn't do me any good anyway since all employee badges are programmed with timed access. (I had found this out one morning when my ride had to drop me off at 6 AM and I was unable to get into my office. I had a nice time sitting propped up against the wall until 7 AM rolled around.)

The security guard said that it was his day off, but he had been asked to come in anyway. I told him I just needed to grab my medicine, and that I thought I had left it in one of the drawers of my cubicle. I'm glad he went with me though - I tried to scan my badge at the door first, and it wouldn't let me in.

Medicine in hand, I ran out to the car, and headed back to my parents' house to take a shower and at least get ready for the study group. I desperately need this study group if I even want to stay afloat in this class.

The study group was set up to be at 1 pm. By 2 pm, I came to the conclusion that it had to have been cancelled and I had just not gotten the memo. When I tried to call my other classmate (the girl who put the study group together) her phone had been turned off. Awesome. I called the other classmate and he called me back to let me know that work had called him in at the last minute and he needed the extra money. I understand that.

I tried to study as much as I could by myself, but technically, the whole point of having a study group is so that you can feed off of each other's notes, and other people's knowledge on the concepts that you don't understand. When there are no other persons that kind of defeats the purpose.

I went searching through the self-help, self-teaching books in the science section and grabbed a copy of Chemistry for Dummies. It helped to a point - but at that point, my stomach was growling, and I had lost all interest and focus on trying to finish the homework that was due on Monday. Besides, I was finding it much more exciting to eavesdrop on the conversation occurring two tables over.

There was a woman dressed in what looked like flowery purple drapes. They looked satin from where I sat, but at any rate, they at least appeared soft. She had dark brown hair, below the shoulder, and had a pair of designer sunglasses on her head. Beneath the table, her matching purple toenails were exposed, and she was lightly sipping on her coffee while flipping through a notebook that she had laid out before her.

Suddenly, it seemed like out of nowhere, a couple appears in front of her and they are shaking hands and smiling cordially - but nervously. A first meet, no doubt.

The couple sits down at the woman's table and she begins speaking matter-of-factly. I think that's what intrigued me was her ability to speak with almost no pause, with so much factual tone - it was friendly but professional.

"I know you saw me from my website. You were the ones who emailed me. And I assume that you've had a chance to view the site and see all of the services that I offer. Were you able to check out the photo gallery? Those pictures have been from the past few years of my experience and should give you an idea as to what to expect from me," she said, while flipping more pages of that notebook.

The couple was just nodding their heads, silently. The woman was still gripping her purse on her shoulder - a sign of nervousness for most people.

As the conversation let on, it became apparent that this woman (the one with the purple flowery drape outfit) was a wedding planner and at the end of the conversation, the couple had both agreed that they would be employing her to help plan their wedding.

That was my cue to go. No other interesting things for me there to help distract away from the awful Chemistry homework that I had to do. I quickly packed up my things, placed the empty plate on top of the trash can (the previous home of a delicious turkey and 3-cheese melt on basil infused panini bread) and decided on taking a trip to the mall.

The mall is the same as I leave it - no matter how long I go without perusing its hallways. Which has been a long time. Possibly close to 7 months or so. I bought a few things, but mostly looked. Student loans and a pending auto loan is keeping me from spending too much nowadays.

I had originally planned on staying in all weekend long - but I had gotten a text message later on in the day from my friend Sal. He was headed to Trust (which is now Stadio). Usually, he tells me where he's going and I say 'cool' and stay home regardless.

Something about last night beckoned me out. So I put my medication on for two hours, walked around the apartment trying to clean up, and then took my shower to get ready.

I called the cab at around 9:30 pm. It didn't arrive until 10:15 pm.

The cabbies that I got were truly hilarious. As I climbed into the back, I noticed that there were two men sitting in the front. I was curious, but acted like nothing was out of place.

"200 East Redwood, please."

"Eh?" asked the driver loudly.

"The girl said 200 Redwood...East, right hon?" asked the other man as he turned slightly in his seat to face me.

"Yes, East. That's right." I now knew why there were two. One was the driver and the other was the driver's ears.

It took us forever to get down there. I didn't get to Redwood Street until close to 11 pm since Ears (my name for the second man) told the driver to take a wrong turn without listening to my protests. Finally, they were so exasperated by themselves that they suggested that I get out of the cab a block and a half from the 200 block of Redwood. I agreed, mainly because I didn't want to have a $50 cab fee.

I crawled out of the cab, and made sure to grab all of my things. As I closed the cab door, the driver leaned across Ears and rolled down the window.

"Hey, besides, what is a pretty young girl like you doing out here so late without your boyfriend?"

"No boyfriend. And I'm just trying to have fun and live my life," I said, "Thanks for the ride!"

"Anytime, hon."

The walk was short, but a walk nonetheless. As I neared the valets I pushed past the metal gates and up the front steps.

"This is Trust, right?" I asked for good measure since it had been more than a few years since the last time I'd been there.

"Uh - yeah, Trust - it's not that anymore. Stadio," said the bouncer with his hand outstretched for my ID.

That night was all about baby steps. I was all by myself, had gone with no one I knew - only with the hopes of running into Sal. And just my luck that it was lingerie night - so there were plenty of women with long hair and hoochie outfits to taunt me.

It was tough the first few minutes. I was conscious that I had my hat on, and that I didn't look like any of them. But then I snapped myself out of it - this wasn't the me a few years ago. This wasn't the vibrant girl that went to all the clubs just 5 years ago. Where did that girl go?

I marched up to the bar and flashed a smile. Grabbed my screwdriver, and headed over to the dancefloor.

I decided to just dance. Dance and have fun. That's just what I did. Baby steps, right?

Sal showed up later and kept telling me how I shouldn't be worried about how I looked because I was always going to be fabulous.

Overall, a fun night. Tiring though. I collapsed as soon as I got into the backseat of Sal's car.

Alright, time for me to sleep. Chemistry is kicking my ass. Chemical nomenclature needs to get bent.

-=edit=-
Might I mention to my happiness that despite my self-consciousness of holding the edge of my hat all night to keep it from falling out that I was hit on five times by five separate men (all pretty decent looking, too.) I know that sounds shallow, but in a very small way it helps with the baby steps. I figure if random strangers don't notice anything unordinary, then I shouldn't be so worried about it either.

Tonight is THE night....

Ugh, I have a speech to give in Speech class tonight. It's the second one that I have done so far (this class is the accelerated class and is going sooo fast!) and I am not looking forward to it.

1. Because I just came up with the topic two minutes ago on my lunch break.

2. Because I also have a quiz on Ch. 10 in the same class tonight.

3. Because it's the last topic that I wanted to do a speech on but the only thing that could come to my mind.

The topic of the speech was "If I could go back in time for a day where, when would I go? Who would I see? Why? What would I take with me and what would I take back?"

Where would I go? I kept sitting there trying to think of some lame topic that would hopefully take me two minutes to come up with - but it seemed like the lame topics were taking me longer.

My mind kept dwindling back to the same thought and I guess that it was my heart, really, telling me what my topic should be: So... if I could go back in time for a day... I would go back to 1985 in Seoul, South Korea, somewhere in those farmlands, and find my birthparents right before I was born.

I would want to show them that I turned out okay. I would want to tell them that I think about them every day and that I wish that things had turned out differently that both them and my adoptive parents could be in my life.

I would want them to know that I graduated high school, that I have a good job, that I want to be in the medical field. I would want my mother to know that I don't hate her for the letter that she sent to America a few months after I left. I want her to know that I forgive them and that if anything, I thank them for not giving up on me, and letting me live so that I could have the life I have lived so far.

Gosh, I just know I am going to burst into tears in class tonight. Exactly what I didn't want to do.

Feeling like a greasy side order of egg rolls...

Yesterday was a B-I-T-C-H. Class ran over. Didn't get home till 11. Just stayed over my parents' house since my Mom refuses to drive in the dark, but ended up waking up late because I was sleeping on that damn couch again (from when I used to live there).

Tonight is lab and I have a feeling this class is going to go until 11 as well. Bah. I don't think I am cut out for this continuous lack of sleep/stress. But we'll see.

More later. When I don't have so much bloody work to do.

Memoir of Friends #1

-=Prelude Edit=-
As a sort of writing practice, I started to write memoirs of people that I once knew. People who for one thing or another have affected my life in a way, or many ways. People who have passed on, but whose memory has kept with me throughout the years, and has helped me get through some difficult and interesting times. This is the first of the many pieces that I found myself scribbling into my journal one afternoon. I needed a chance to let the writer's compost build. I needed to let go of some tears. This is for you, Jules.


The first time it hit me that I had lost Jules was a week after her funeral. Even after I had seen her open casket where I cried hysterically and stared disbelief at the body lying there that everyone kept telling me was my best friend, even after the two hour funeral in the church where I sat in the back pews in my pink dress because Jules had said that she wanted everyone to celebrate her in style, even after the reception at her parents' house where her mother had created picture posters of Jules with a few dozen of them being with me in them... I was still in disbelief. It still hadn't set in.

Until one day, a week later, I was walking through the parking lot of the mall and heard Jules' favorite song blaring in the near distance.

I turned to see a guy driving around the parking lot in his white Honda Civic, windows rolled down, and singing his lungs out.

"Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes...five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear..."

And I broke down in tears.

RENT was her anthem. She ran out to buy the soundtrack the week it came out, and would walk around the school hallways with a CD-player in one hand, both earphones clasped around her earlobes, and reciting the words from "Over The Moon" with such precision and emotion you would have thought they made the part of Maureen for her.

She had become my Maureen. The crazy, sexy, amazing, alluring, intimidating 5'2" powerhouse that was Julia made me feel like anything I did was the greatest shit since sliced bread. My first day of school there, I felt completely out of place. I was one of two or three kids that were homeschooled for most of their middle school years stepping into the most insane, liberal-arts public high school in Baltimore County.

Everyone who came to Carver knew everyone who was already at Carver. That was mostly because Carver was one of those high schools where they were bound to choose middle schoolers that had attended other liberal-arts schools such as Deer Park, Loch Raven Academy or the infamous Sudbrook.

To the freshman students who arrived, the teachers they were going to be assigned to for their primes were legendary. To me, they were some of the wackiest teachers I had ever met in my entire life.

Jules was an alumni of Sudbrook. She, of course, had studied Theatre and Vocal Arts there. She had a voice on her that could project for miles. To this day, I blame my ability to be loud and obnoxious on her. When she met me, I was a timid, quiet Asian girl who wore jeans with pen spots splattered over them and tattered t-shirts to achieve the "artistic look".

Everyone thought Jules and I made the oddest pair as friends. She, the Sudbrook-attending, outgoing, insane theatre student, and me, the introverted, nervous, literary arts student with my head stuck between the pages of my journal 99% of the time. But the friendship worked. And Julia made me realize that life was too short, too alive, too raw, too beautiful to miss out on. We would stay on the phone for hours, reciting lines from upcoming Broadway productions; me listening to her new monologue for Theatre 1 class and her listening to my new sestina for Intro to Lit Arts.

Her bright spirit became something I will never forget. From her stealing "hamster burgers" from the cafeteria to jumping on top of her seat in the auditorium after I finished my hip hop dance for the Black History Month assembly to skipping class and walking to the mall to buy "movie star shades" - Jules was, and will always be my star.

Finals are over...and...I'm a Notary Public!

I think I did pretty good last night. Second to last person in the class to remain and I had to stop halfway through to rest my hand because I was pressing so hard against the paper - but...I think I did rather well.

In other news: I am a Notary Public!
(and for $61.00 you could be one, too.)

It's nothing spectacular but I had to become one for my job. Already my friends have been calling me and asking me to notarize stuff. I never knew there were that many documents (besides deeds of trust, mortgage loan documents, etc.) that needed to be notarized but I guess there are.

Summer is fast approaching - the month of June is going to be awesome for me. I am really looking forward to the vacation time and the plans that I have already set.

Friday is here...and I'm pooped. Can't wait to go home and sleep.

One of the funniest articles I have read in a long time...

Tinky-Winky says Goodbye to Falwell

Good job to Salon.com! Made my morning bright and happy. :-)

It's Thursday and it's the middle of finals week! I have mine tonight, and have made the executive decision not to go to the gym today but to take the time and make sure I know exactly all the ins and outs of Marbury v. Madison, Gibbons v. Ogden, & McCulloch v. Maryland.

Also - the life of Frederick Douglass, the Missouri Compromise, Compromise of 1850 and the Dred Scott Decision.

With any luck, I'll have it down pat by noon, and we should be good as golden for tonight.

Friday Night Fever!

I don't know why I chose that title - it really doesn't make any sense...except that since this morning I have been ansy to get out of this office and into the sunlight - slip my feet into some comfy sneaks and a nice pair of jeans and get to goin' for the weekend.

I have a ton of studying to do this weekend for my History final exam. He gave us a bunch of packets last night as well as a list of questions that we had to know detailed answers for in order to pick three as our personal final. I guess that's a benefit - to be able to choose the questions beforehand, and being able to prepare myself fully to answer the questions to the best of my ability.

Beyond that, I have to strategize this weekend. I have overviewed some of my prospectives and realized that I was a little off. Books, cost of vacations, cost of the car... I know that it can work - it's just a matter of making it work. So Sunday is going to be my "Crunch Numbers" day!

I have a lot of fun stuff to look forward to this year - and as much as I complained about the year 2007 being a bummer, I think it all depended on what I made of it. As opposed to last year's "everything-good-is-just-going-to-fall-right-into-my-lap" theme. This year I had to prove to myself that I was determined enough to get the things done that I wanted to get done.

One thing is down: my education. I told myself I wanted to go back to school. Give it another try - and make sure this time there were no mistakes if I could help it. And with a little extra push, some breakdowns, and such - I got my financial aid back and I am ripped and raring to go for the fall. I am super excited even though I know Chemistry is going to bore me to tears. At least I'll be learning something instead of watching reruns of "Scrubs" on UPN (although that is one of the best shows out there, EVER!).

Next stop - driver's license. And that's making headway too. Except for the weird left foot accelerator lady who never calls me back and keeps changing times on me. But we'll get over that. Or else I'll beat her with my shoe.

I got the letter!

There is only one letter that I can think of that is waited for with extreme anticipation.

The acceptance letter: You got into your choice college, you got that job you wanted, or that internship you've been waiting months for.

And now I am proud to add a new one to my own personal list:

The reinstatement of financial aid letter.

Which I received yesterday in the mail!! I am so siked. This means that it's one less financial burden that I have to worry about now that I have the car as my main source of P.I.T.A. (Pain In The Ass) syndrome. I qualify now for (hopefully) some grants, and of course, student loans. And this time I am going to do it right. Pay them on time, make sure that I understand the terms and conditions of the loans that I sign for (my parents never really went over the paperwork with me, and even if they did, I don't think they understood any of the terms and conditions either) and get my credit back into good standing once again.

It also means that it's a positive GO for me for the fall of 2007. I am officially back into school and making my way to good grades and on a fast track to transferring to a four-year in the next year or so.

Finally, things are starting to look up.

Now I just have to get my license straightened out and I'll be good to go.

How To Fit Your Life's Story in Four Lines

I am staring at this Appeal Suspension of Aid form on my desk at work. I should be worried about my deadline for these four files today, or the fact that my tracking report is due tomorrow and not even half of it is completed yet. But I can't take my eyes off this damn form.

The words "suspension of aid" look and sound so ugly. Like some sort of anti-financial aid disease. I felt my heart sink down to my stomach when I saw it on my online transcript this morning. I figured I'd be proactive since the Financial Aid office last night told me that I wouldn't be able to apply for a student loan until June 4th, and just log on to the student website to see what type of financial aid availability I had.

Let's see....um, none, perhaps?

And now here I am with this form in front of me that I need to fill out to appeal the school's decision made back in the fall of 2005.

There is so much that has happened in the past year and a half and even the prior year leading up to that semester. But I only have four empty available lines to explain myself. The process is so frustrating.

In four lines, can I tell you how it felt to be kicked out of my parents' house the night before my 19th birthday because my mother said "You hate me because I am white..." not because I ever made her feel that way but because of some innate guilt that she had formed from adopting me? Or how she threw all my clothes in trash bags and let them sit in the frontyard while it poured rain? And how that night I had to sneak into my father's place of stay (my uncle's home) because my uncle "has a thing against Asian people"?

In four lines, could I tell you how my mother refused to let me back in the house to obtain my textbooks (books that I paid for with my own money) so that I could study for final exams?

In four lines, do you think you'd care that I had to find a ride to the school library, sat there at the computer and wrote emails to all my teachers to explain the situation and only had one teacher respond?

Probably not. And that's what's so difficult. There are no words I could use in just four lines that could ever amount to how I feel right now. That could equal the want and the desire that I have to learn and to better myself now more than ever after having dealt with my obstacles and trying to get back on my educational feet.

But I'll try. It's worth the world to me to at least try.

And so I begin to fill those four lines...

Mid-term Day

So I stayed up till 2 AM last night studying for this damn mid-term. Can I just say that when it gets to the short answers part, I am basically screwed? Who really cares about European/African relations before 1492? Is it going to help me pay my bills?

Ahhh, okay, I am feeling some animosity towards history. It shouldn't be that way though. It just is the most boring subject to learn.

No offense to my teacher though - which reminds me, I never told the story about my history teacher!

My teacher is 85...we've solidified that. So he has all these wild and crazy stories from the past that he tells us - all in first person, all true. (The reason that I know and believe them to be true is that during the time that he tells them to the class, he pauses in mid-thought with this look on his face as if he can remember EVERYTHING he is telling us. So either he is an awesome actor, or this stuff is for real. And I'd like to believe that they are real!)

He was talking about slavery...since we're dealing with post Civil War stuff right now and he started to talk about some girl that he used to go out with whose family's generation came from an old Georgian plantation in Atlanta.

The story goes that he was heading over to Atlanta for some kind of teacher's convention, and in the meantime he went to go stay with her family. When he got there, he was stunned by how enormous this house and plantation were. It was all original and historical 18th century architecture and such. He said that that night he slept in a four-post bed that was so large he could fit ten of himself in it. The rooms were enormous, too and he nearly felt like he was in a whole other house.

What is most important about Mr. Addy is that he has tried to preserve his history in his mind as much as he could. He'll go off on tangents such as "well when I was down there her brother took me around in his drop-top convertible and it was during the beginning of segregation days - so he took me past a building and said 'That's where the colored folks go to school. It really is better that they stay away from us white folks, and the education is just as good as ours.'" to then telling us "Can you believe that he said that to me? Little did he know that I had a friend in Pennsylvania who was part of the Civil Rights Movement and I used to go there to visit him and do a lot of marches and things like that."

Anyways - getting to the more exciting part - so Mr. Addy was staying there in Atlanta, and he said that one day he was hanging out with two buddies of his (both were African-American): one had just graduated from a teacher's college and the other was a dentist (don't know why I told you that part, but he did, so I think it adds to the character of the story. :-D). Here they were, driving around on this very sunny day in Atlanta in his friend's nice car, and suddenly they pass by a Klan rally. In an instant, their car gets barraded by Klan members smashing sticks and branches from trees and stones into their car.

Mr. Addy said that he turned to his friend and said "If we kill someone, we're done for." and his friend turned to him and said "If we don't kill anyone, we're done for..."

Thank goodness, they took a wrong turn on a dirt path and got away safely. But the guy had $2,000.00 worth of damage done to his car, and at that time, both Mr. Addy and the other teacher were only making $54.00 a month.

Those kinds of stories really make me think and appreciate the little things in my life. Even if I have been struggling recently, I know that I have gotten myself to a place that is far better than most people my age and for that I am truly grateful. Especially when you hear stories like that and you think, damn, now that's history.