Sometimes, especially at 4am on a Wednesday after 20 hours of classes/work/emailing/work/being frustrated, I really don’t understand where the HELL pro life feminists are coming from. Seriously, life sucks. why inflict this misery upon another innocent human being? ugh.

Recessions happen, but it never reaches everybody. In my 20 years and one week of life experiences, my parents’ strategic choice of cities to live in allowed me to experience the SouthEast Asia financial crisis, the 2001 tech crash, and now the subprime mortgage crisis. When I was younger and less knowledgeable about economics and politics, I often wondered whether  or not I am some sort of omen: everytime my family moves to a new city, a financial crash of some sort follows a year later. As creepy and silly as that may sound, I was not scared, because all the recessions I have experienced had no effect on my personal life what so ever. There are always oases in deserts, and I was always getting on with my life, and the sound of thew world toppling around me is just background noise. 

This time, it’s different. Outside my window collegetown looks like it did a year ago. Business owners say the recession has not effected spending at all, at least not yet. how long is that going to last though? In silicon Valley, one of the wealthiest, most economically homogenous areas in the US, employment is up to 9%. People is replacing fast food with salad without a care for the risk of heart disease (or gasp, body image), and crime is on the rise. Even towns like Ithaca, where probably 97%+ of the economy is tied to Cornell University, is suffering. Even Ted Mosby from how I met Your Mother got laid off. How long will this continue?

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 3, 2008 AT 12:39 PM

Journalist, this is your future

so….officially pursuing econ grad schoo –> journalism. woopdeedoo. 

Econ 609

Econ 617

Econ 713

Engl  3xx

Engl 3xx

watch me die.

…a little bit more knowledgeable, a little bit more confused, and a little bit more confident than I was a year ago. not sure if that’s a positive, progressive thing. 

Friends started talking about Spring Break plans with me back in october; I turned down all their offers. Las Vegas, Miami, Hawaii…I just couldn’t get myself to go from living and worrying in one pristine bubble to hiding away in a fricking vacation spot when the world is falling into pieces in ways that my sheltered, bubble-preserved mind could only try to imagine. I had to get out. I had to go see what it’s like. 

Four days outside Ithaca, not the MOST bustling populated city–try Stonybrook, Long Island. In fact, it didn’t even look all that different from Ithaca, to be honest. Friend’s dorm is tiny–a wall of dressers, another wall of two bunked beds, another wall of a desk and a Tv, and another wall entirely devoted (not kidding) to an illegally smuggled guinea pig, along with three girls all packed in a 10′ x 10′ room.

Three girls, one car, two beds, two computers, one chair. Hey, we made it work. 

Their food is horrible: Wendy’s, and two grab-and-go style dining halls, all for a public school four times the size of mine. their dorms are scary: an elevator that only opens when you put a piece of paper in the door, two ceiling lamps fell in front of my eyes, another elevator that oscillates in damped simple harmonic motion when it reaches the fifth floor. Their internet shuts down once every five minutes. 

Outside their library, a very, very serious poster read, “SAVE OUR SUNY”. the state is cutting funding, to the point where complete departments will be eliminated, which means students who are currently completing a degree in one of the to-be-eliminated departments will not be able to receive their desired degree. A total hiring freeze was already initiated, so far the dining and living standards will not be compromised, but in a time like this, who knows what can change tomorrow? 

One of the many things we realize as we get older is that birthdays are overrated. You get older on your birthday, but you do that every minute of your life! It’s just any other day, and frankly, after 20 times through the same thing it gets a little old. Today I will be going to bed 20 and tomorrow I will hopefully wake up a different person. Or maybe I’ll just wake up at 9:30 half-awake and frazzled as always and fall asleep on my train to new york city. Whichever happens tomorrow, I guess I’m content. Birthdays are overrated in their need for celebration, but they are a good time to reflect upon our lives thus far, ooo and ahhh and examine for areas in need of improvements. 

As undecided as I may look to most people, I always knew exactly what I want to do, but I was for whatever reason too embarrassed to say it. I want to be a writer, be a jouranlist. Phew, there, I said it. Due to my strange extreme fear of other people reading my work, I decided to force myself to write for publications like SF chronicle in high school. I got over that, err, a little bit. But as I learned more about the journalism industry, I became more and more pessimistic. Print journalism is shrinking rapidly. Perhaps it is due to the invention of the internet, or television, or Nintendo Wii, or people’s general gradual shift away from readership. I don’t know. But I know that, in an ideal world, writing is what  I would pursue with all my heart. I guess, like many people, my goal has always been trying to find an alternative that would satisfy myself as much as my dream job would. Fat chance, you say; but we can’t stop trying, can we?

and here’s why. I’m stuck with 12 credits this semester because my mom forgot to pay my tuition. by forgot i don’t mean my family is short on funding…by forgot i literally mean she could not recall that she is obligated to send money to cornell university every month even though she receives a bill in the mail as well as via email. So, all the courses I added during add-drop did not go through, so I’m stuck with the classes I added last semester during my 30 minutes i-want-to-sever-connections-with-humanity-and-fall-in-love-with-math phase of my life. oy. 

So here I am, stuck in graduate econ and engineering physics. The only course I like this term is modern poetry…well, physics isn’t that bad either, but i’m not done whining yet. It’s true that hard core torturous math and science courses are designed to give us “brain training”,and that’s why I’m going to stick with physics and that’s why i’m sitting in Olin right now trying to prepare for the prelim on tuesday while i’m missing out on a chapter meeting and a science editorial meeting. I do want brain training, but i’m not sure this is the particular type of brain training I need. I do enjoy physics, but it has been proven that the majority of the things I (or most people my age, for that matter) enjoy do not lead to jobs or prosperity…at least not in the traditional sense. Think indie music, shopping addiction, the internet, creative writing, alcohol. 

i think the whole “brain training” crap is just a marketing pitch for schools like Cornell. Even engineering couldn’t adequately prepare students for what they need in the real world; after all, at the rate which the world updates every second it’s frickin impossible to create any curriculum that fully prepares graduates for the work force. So why do we need schools? you guessed it, brain training. theory studies. hypothetical assumptions we “need” before entering the work force, or marry rich, or take over the family business, or go lie on the beach. Supply and demand analysis tells me that this brain training is indeed necessary: for A&S at least, there are 7 applicants for every spot in the college. So people can’t be all stupid, right? No parent would lead their child down a path of destruction deliberately, and certainly no one would pay 50 grands a year to do it. 

Last week I interviewed a senior going into investment banking. When I asked him about how his majors, math and econ, helped him with the tools he needed for his jobs, he chuckled and said grudgingly, “uh, not really.” 

“what?”

“Econ is just…econ. Math…you dont really need fourier series or topology for banking, but i guess struggling through the problem sets gives you the brain training that will make you smarter than the rest.” 

So that’s it. I’ve been in college for almost two years now and I have yet to figure out what college really is. As of now, my best answer would be that it’s an extension of prep school. Graduate school, as far as I understand, is where you pick your poison and sink into an extremely specific area of an extremely specific field of study and theorize away, often severing human contact in the process.  So when do I reach that moment where life is completely different from high school 360 degrees?

Maybe I’m being overtly myopic. Maybe the answer is dancing naked in front of me. But I just don’t see it.  *shrugs*

today I experienced the most confusing 10 minutes in my 10 years history of being a shopaholic. 

There I was, standing in the baby isle of Target, trying to come up with something to get for Kevin’s baby shower. The problem is, the sex of the baby is unkown, so it was my task to choose something thoughtful yet gender neutral. 

I walked past the clothes isle…the most gender neutral item is a tiny t-shirt with a leaf in the center, but choosing a size could also bring misunderstandings. (George Carlin: what if he’s a two year old with a pituitary disorder??) Cups and towels and mundane, and it’s almost impossible to find a perky toy that appeals to both sexes. 

Then, my magic moment came. A yellow, absolutely adorable sippy cup in the shape of a birdie. It has a pink flower, but the pinkness is balanced by the abundance of blue in the eyes and the clearly (well, sort of) masculine eyebrows. Yellow is the only primary color that’s not related to pink and blue, and a birdie is cute but stands right about the midway point between hello kitty and power rangers. 

and there I was, at the cash register, holding a yellow sippy cup and feeling completely retarded. A SIPPY CUP?? Aside from being a potential choking and poking hazard, a yellow baby bird is clearly an allusion for easter and therefore religion, and Kevin’s not even that religious. Plus, what magically overdeveloped infant could sip a cup at age 1 week? And what the hell are they going to put in the cup that could be better than mommy’s natural breast milk? Are the secondary sexual characteristics of males and females so divided that it’s virtually impossible to choose an omni-appealing gift? And Mark Loring from Juno was right, yellow is not a gender neutral color, but it’s the only color that does not have a splash of pink or blue, so I guess the more appropriate term would be that it is an asexual color. 

I ended up purchasing the sippy cup, and as I type I am brainstorming ways of wrapping it with my juicy couture tissue that will create maximum distraction from the fact that I forgot to purchase wrapping paper. Oh what the hell if the kid can’t suck out of a straw when he’s born…having a sophisticated toy will motivate him to learn…before you know it he will be building giant metal armor that fly and shoot evil guys like Tony Stark can. 

I must wonder though, what a parent sees when they visualize a mystery baby. Obviously (and thankfully, phew) I am completely inexperienced in this regard, but I imagine as the big day approaches one cannot help but to dream of cuddling a soft beautiful cherub as she falls asleep. Do they picture both genders experimentally, or do they picture some form of weird bisexual chimera? Actually maybe it doesnt really matter that much since all babies look the same? Or do they visualize an invisible, transparent, yet tangible blob that embodies the abstract concept of fusion and love? 

If this convoluted blurb has any moral, it would probably be that I think having children is frickin’ unimaginable and scary as hell. 

And after contemplating on my lack of experience in choosing baby shower gifts, I was somewhat happy with my frustrations. I attribute my struggles to my friends’ maturity and inability to accept an alternative lifestyle. Thank you for saying no to teenage pregnancy.

marley and me <3

It’s Marley!! finally!!

Two months ago I went movie hopping (hey, at least I’m honest about it) with a friend. The Marley and Me trailer was shown with Madagascar 2, and I literally started screaming when I saw it on the silver screen. SCREAMED. 

Three years ago, I was sitting in the back row of AP biology. Cell walls and mitochondrias never fascinated me, so I resorted to reading, the most primitive yet portable and spontaneous form of entertainment. 40 minutes into the lecture, I completely lost it. 

     “He was the central player in some of the happiest chapters of our lives. Chapters of young love and new beginnings, of budding careers and tiny babies. Of heady successes and crushing disappointments; of discovery and freedom and self-realization. HE came into our lives just as we were trying to figure out what they would become…He taught us the art of unqualified love. How to give it, how to accept it. Where there is that, most of the other pieces fall into place.” -286

In the middle of the class I started crying like a baby, soaked, drowning, and choking in an ocean of life. An ocean, that was the image that came to mind. I thought about the unmistakable blue shade of Jenny’s first pregnancy test, I thought of how collected and understanding Marley was after Jenny lost her baby, I thought about Marley attempting to die on his own away from the family. I thought about myself. I thought about college, the life ahead, the obstacles ahead, the real world outside the Northern California wealthy surburban shelter that shielded hurricanes and economic recessions. How does it feel to know your best days are almost behind you? 

I saw this movie on the day it was released. I was glad to find that I wasn’t the only cry baby in the country; there wasn’t a single dry eye in the theatre. 

Like all adaptations, not everything in the book was included, and the included scenes weren’t in the exact order. Depending on how religious you are about retaining the contents of the book, the movie version can seem like somewhat of a bastardization. Plus not very many readers pictured John Grogan as a character likely to be played by Owen Wilson. However, for me, the movie was perfect enough. I am fully aware that I am biased to the highest level, but seriously, the story is so great that as long as you crop it somewhat responsibly, you are bound to move a few souls.

…and by the way, I’m now a sophomore in college, happier than ever. I thought about the girl crying in the back row of biology when I was watching Marley and Me. Life can be a pleasant surprise if you have the faith it takes.

today sucked, in a way

i got a XXXX in English. that officially marks the end of my English majoring career and begins my reign as a music major. woohoo!!! My only concern now is worsening hypersensitive hearing, but whatever. I regret not trying last semester. oh well. 

coming back to ithaca on friday. kind of excited to finally get some absolutely peace for one week…ABSOLUTE peace, kind of awesome really. It’s the first time that I don’t have any commitment to meet up with anyone for seven days straight…time entirely dedicated to myself in hopes of achieving some new embraceable cleansing. woo.

i want this year’s finals study to go SUPERSMOOTHLY. as in, unlike my disappointing experiences in the past 13 years of my academic career, this year NOTHING CAN GO WRONG. i have set strict goals for myself each day and i WILLLLL achieve them. 

my favorie joke at the moment is till D.A.M. = mothers against dyslexia. 

one of approximately 20 days i will have an urge to be premed, but then i always carefully put that thought away because i am someone who has no capacity for frustrations. This makes me wonder how all those people who hate medicine hate science but do premed because it’s practical get through their days. On my way back from my nth snack break i saw two girls burying their faces in their orgo books, crying.  Is that really necessary? but then again, what could you do? getting into college is hard. getting a job is hard. being conventionally responsible is harder. finding happiness is the hardest. We all make sacrifices, even if the sacrifices are made for the sake of making sacrifices. what a world.