Everybody,
World AIDS Day just passed. I can't stress enough, I can't describe in words how much people in the world need YOU right now, this very second.
Today, 5,500 people--men, women, people just like us--will die because they couldn't get two little pills.
Two little pills that can keep them alive. Can you imagine not being able to do it yourself? To keep yourself alive? Can you imagine having to depend on something so tiny as a pill to keep you alive because your own body is giving up?
There are people in this world, this world that we are a part of, that need those pills to stay alive. But they can't do it on their own. They need us. They need you. I'll help too. And you and me, and my friends and your friends if you decide to talk about this, we can get somebody, any random person, we can get them those pills. We can keep somebody alive. And if there's one person who happens to be special, who happens to have a sense of purpose, and we kept them alive, that person can contribute something to their community, to their country, to our world. And their contribution to society will make our lives better.
It's not hard at all to help. Everybody is going to be shopping for gifts this month. (RED) products are not more expensive than regular products. So if you want to help, here's my suggestion as to what to do:
1. Go to www.joinred.com and learn about the idea behind (RED). Find out which companies are (RED).
2. When you go holiday shopping, make an effort to buy (RED) products rather than the regular products. A portion of the sale from every (RED) product goes to buying pills for people in Africa who have AIDS.
3. Tell your friends to do the same.
If you're still reading this, thank you so much. Thank you for your attention, because that tells me that you care, possibly as much as I do. We can do this if we work as a team. We can keep some really amazing people alive long enough for them to fulfill their purpose in life.
Thanks again,
Sonia
12.02.2006
11.09.2006
Strength and Purpose
Pleasures conceived in the world of the senses have a beginning and an end and give birth to misery...The wise do not look for happiness in them. But those who overcome the impulses of lust and anger that arise in the body are made whole and live in joy. They find their joy, their rest, and their light completely within themselves. United with the Lord, they attain nirvana in Brahman.
-Bhagavad Gita 5:22-24
I've been studying the Gita lately, and I've come across passages that I agree with and some that I either don't understand or disagree with. This one though, summarizes everything I know and feel and want others to know about Hinduism until now. It's so hard to overcome physical pleasure, but when I see how it is even harder for other people, I thank God that I have the strength to overcome at least some of life's many obstacles. I am one lucky girl.
God wants us to work ceaselessly for the benefit of the world without expectation of reward. How to deal with the derivatives associated with this...
What with the expectations of my family and the materialism that surrounds me. I could do it easily, if only no one were watching. That's where the obstacle is overcome. If you can work for the benefit of others ceaselessly in front of everyone, you have strength--immeasurable strength.
Someday...
-Bhagavad Gita 5:22-24
I've been studying the Gita lately, and I've come across passages that I agree with and some that I either don't understand or disagree with. This one though, summarizes everything I know and feel and want others to know about Hinduism until now. It's so hard to overcome physical pleasure, but when I see how it is even harder for other people, I thank God that I have the strength to overcome at least some of life's many obstacles. I am one lucky girl.
God wants us to work ceaselessly for the benefit of the world without expectation of reward. How to deal with the derivatives associated with this...
What with the expectations of my family and the materialism that surrounds me. I could do it easily, if only no one were watching. That's where the obstacle is overcome. If you can work for the benefit of others ceaselessly in front of everyone, you have strength--immeasurable strength.
Someday...
11.05.2006
Mad ramblings?
When did things start to get so bad in this world? The rampant, ceaseless, abhorrent exclusion that is everywhere (i.e. homosexuals, different races, certain castes, etc.") is making me weary and pessimistic of the life my kids will have. We're so caught up in what others will think that we stop ourselves from being human. We stop ourselves from doing things we naturally enjoy doing, simply because we're worried about our reputation. And our reputations turn into our legacies, what we leave behind; how people, fleeting in existence themselves, will remember our short time here. It's so sick. I feel so sick. Things like this have always existed. Social status, class, background, lifestyle; it's all so important to everybody and simultaneously so irrelevant. So why does it matter SO much to me??????
As children, we were told that if all the people in the world looked exactly the same, life would be boring.
I disagree.
I think that if all the people in the world looked exactly the same, we would all have a chance at being treated with respect and equality. We'd all belong. We'd all have the chance to be human. The point people miss is that, just because we'd all look exactly the same doesn't mean we'd all have the same personalities. We'd have different goals, different views. But that brings me back to the beginning. Different goals, different views would require exclusion. As Zygmunt Bauman said, "The emancipation of some calls for the suppression of others." I feel so sick.
No, that can't be right. I believe that human beings have the potential to be peaceful. People can and will someday learn to coexist peacefully, cooperatively.
It is in the genetic makeup of some to be competitive. Competition makes us lie, cheat, steal, and harm others to get what we want--to achieve our own goals without regard for the goals or wellbeing of others. Competition must be eliminated. Is that heaven? The absence of competition? Hunger? Jealousy? That's what Matisyahu says. What does Hinduism say? The real Hinduism? Not the Gita, not the Mahabharata. The Vedas. I need the Vedas.I need the truth.
Every night I hear people going through the garbage under my window.
Enough of my ramblings
As children, we were told that if all the people in the world looked exactly the same, life would be boring.
I disagree.
I think that if all the people in the world looked exactly the same, we would all have a chance at being treated with respect and equality. We'd all belong. We'd all have the chance to be human. The point people miss is that, just because we'd all look exactly the same doesn't mean we'd all have the same personalities. We'd have different goals, different views. But that brings me back to the beginning. Different goals, different views would require exclusion. As Zygmunt Bauman said, "The emancipation of some calls for the suppression of others." I feel so sick.
No, that can't be right. I believe that human beings have the potential to be peaceful. People can and will someday learn to coexist peacefully, cooperatively.
It is in the genetic makeup of some to be competitive. Competition makes us lie, cheat, steal, and harm others to get what we want--to achieve our own goals without regard for the goals or wellbeing of others. Competition must be eliminated. Is that heaven? The absence of competition? Hunger? Jealousy? That's what Matisyahu says. What does Hinduism say? The real Hinduism? Not the Gita, not the Mahabharata. The Vedas. I need the Vedas.I need the truth.
Every night I hear people going through the garbage under my window.
Enough of my ramblings
9.10.2006
Gone
I remember the last time I talked to him face to face. He was lying in a hospital bed. He looked very weak. She was seated next to him and we were seated across from them. The conversation turned to my future. I offered him my goals. He shot them down. Too much insurance, not enough money. Those were the two answers he had for me. As we left the hospital, I remember feeling my blood boil at how he'd just made me look like a fool whether he meant to or not. I remember my mom speaking poorly of him on the car ride home. I knew it was wrong, but I added to the heated conversation.
Two years later. I never got to tell him about urban planning. I wonder what would have been wrong with it.
Two years later. I never got to tell him about urban planning. I wonder what would have been wrong with it.
9.05.2006
Cowardice: It Runs in the Family
I knew there was something more to this; a dimension we didn't think to consider: It's not about what we want. It's about what he wanted. What was the great advantage, privilege, the great gift in seeing his body for one last time? If losing that hour-long opportunity meant fighting tooth and nail for him, then it's a sacrifice I'm sure we'd all have been willing to give.
There's still time. I wonder if they're up for the challenge. Perhaps we've been blinded by our own selfishness, but the question is one of whether we're willing to sacrifice our own wants one last time.
Why didn't anybody think of this before??
We sat around, blaming her for his death, blaming her for all the grief they caused our family, blaming her for what we're going through now. But I ask now, how are we better than her? We didn't even put up a fight. We chose to believe everything that came out of her thin, red lips because it was convenient for us. They said she'd be two steps ahead of us. How can we know that if we've never, not once, fought against her?
But why does it have to be a fight? Why can't it be the family, in its entirety, against this problem? She willed this; but a conversation in plain English might have lightened the load we'll all now carry for the rest of our lives. I don't know about anyone else, but I fear I too will die, never knowing what he really wanted. That doesn't sit right with me. I just want to talk to her--to ask her to grant us this one thing, and then she won't ever have to "deal" with us again. I could probably get her phone number. I won't get home tomorrow until 10pm. Am I destined to be helpless in this situation?
Why did nobody stand up to her before? Why, countless times, has she been allowed to spit words of pure hate in our faces, only to have us smile at her with respect the next time we see her...
Cowardice.
The only answer I have.
Everything else is extraneous, irrelevant, ignorant.
And another thing that's pissing me off: everybody keeps saying," He's in a better place." What the hell? We're Hindu! Every Hindu knows about reincarnation. He's not in a better place. He's here; starting all over again as whatever or whomever God wants his soul to be. Is it wrong to talk about that? That's not even the point right now, I guess. But then, what is the point? Why do we grieve, if not to ask questions about what is, what could have been, and what will be? There are so many questions I have (obviously) but nobody wants to talk about anything anymore, as if the grieving period is over.
I didn't cry in front of anyone. I've come close, but I know any attention will just make me cry more. It's better for this to be private. That's probably why I haven't been able to talk to anyone. Mom should know to talk to me. She hasn't even tried; I can't blame her, she's had to host this whole thing. I just caved tonight and started writing here.
There's still time. I wonder if they're up for the challenge. Perhaps we've been blinded by our own selfishness, but the question is one of whether we're willing to sacrifice our own wants one last time.
Why didn't anybody think of this before??
We sat around, blaming her for his death, blaming her for all the grief they caused our family, blaming her for what we're going through now. But I ask now, how are we better than her? We didn't even put up a fight. We chose to believe everything that came out of her thin, red lips because it was convenient for us. They said she'd be two steps ahead of us. How can we know that if we've never, not once, fought against her?
But why does it have to be a fight? Why can't it be the family, in its entirety, against this problem? She willed this; but a conversation in plain English might have lightened the load we'll all now carry for the rest of our lives. I don't know about anyone else, but I fear I too will die, never knowing what he really wanted. That doesn't sit right with me. I just want to talk to her--to ask her to grant us this one thing, and then she won't ever have to "deal" with us again. I could probably get her phone number. I won't get home tomorrow until 10pm. Am I destined to be helpless in this situation?
Why did nobody stand up to her before? Why, countless times, has she been allowed to spit words of pure hate in our faces, only to have us smile at her with respect the next time we see her...
Cowardice.
The only answer I have.
Everything else is extraneous, irrelevant, ignorant.
And another thing that's pissing me off: everybody keeps saying," He's in a better place." What the hell? We're Hindu! Every Hindu knows about reincarnation. He's not in a better place. He's here; starting all over again as whatever or whomever God wants his soul to be. Is it wrong to talk about that? That's not even the point right now, I guess. But then, what is the point? Why do we grieve, if not to ask questions about what is, what could have been, and what will be? There are so many questions I have (obviously) but nobody wants to talk about anything anymore, as if the grieving period is over.
I didn't cry in front of anyone. I've come close, but I know any attention will just make me cry more. It's better for this to be private. That's probably why I haven't been able to talk to anyone. Mom should know to talk to me. She hasn't even tried; I can't blame her, she's had to host this whole thing. I just caved tonight and started writing here.
8.09.2006
Overwhelmed again
It's 1:45am. I'm supposed to have 5 chapters for my two classes read by friday at the latest. It's now Wednesday, and I only have 1 chapter done. I bought two new notebooks today, and one of them is wide-ruled, so I can't use it. Someone very important is very sick. My parents are mad at me (nothing new). I can't find my glasses. I was supposed to be going to the gym everyday this week, and I haven't gone at all. What's more, I'm afraid I won't go tomorrow morning. I think I'm gaining weight again. The pressure is piling up on me and I just wish my parents would lay off, because that would help a lot.
My aunt is coming up from L.A. this weekend to a nearby airport, and my parents don't trust me to pick her up by myself. I pretty much expected it, but now I'm thinking: Blind people, people who can't read, people who don't speak English, they can get through an airport. I can see and I'm not illiterate, and they don't think I'll know which parking lot to go into. Is this really the image my parents have of me? Is this what I show them? That's sick. Pathetic. I don't have time to worry about that.
I have to get a lot of important work done tomorrow, but I really really really need to get to the gym.
I feel so sick right now. Sick with worry. I wish I didn't have to go home this weekend. I wish I didn't have to work. I wish my parents didn't know my schedule so I could stay here and catch up on everything. I want to pull my hair out. I have to go to the gym tomorrow, to release this frustration, anger, fear, worry if to accomplish nothing else. I won't be able to sleep tonight, that's something I don't need with a 2 hour midmorning class and a 3 hour evening class tomorrow. Where are my glasses???
I'm going to try to get something done.
My aunt is coming up from L.A. this weekend to a nearby airport, and my parents don't trust me to pick her up by myself. I pretty much expected it, but now I'm thinking: Blind people, people who can't read, people who don't speak English, they can get through an airport. I can see and I'm not illiterate, and they don't think I'll know which parking lot to go into. Is this really the image my parents have of me? Is this what I show them? That's sick. Pathetic. I don't have time to worry about that.
I have to get a lot of important work done tomorrow, but I really really really need to get to the gym.
I feel so sick right now. Sick with worry. I wish I didn't have to go home this weekend. I wish I didn't have to work. I wish my parents didn't know my schedule so I could stay here and catch up on everything. I want to pull my hair out. I have to go to the gym tomorrow, to release this frustration, anger, fear, worry if to accomplish nothing else. I won't be able to sleep tonight, that's something I don't need with a 2 hour midmorning class and a 3 hour evening class tomorrow. Where are my glasses???
I'm going to try to get something done.
7.09.2006
Mr. McDreamy
I recently had a weird dream:
I got married to the most gorgeous guy: chiseled jaw, washboard abs, perfect skin, pecs you could use as plates, the whole nine yards.
So, we get married, (which is approximately where my dream started), come back to where the family was for the wedding (they’ve all left by now for the reception), and I somehow find out that he’s slept with lots of other girls before. The dream ends. I know there’s a part of me that watched way too much “Sex and the City” that night, but the surprise in the dream really got me thinking. How well do you really know a person when your marriage with them is arranged?
So, I’ve been freaking out about this dream for the past month or so, wondering if I should talk to my mom about it. In the end, I decided not to talk to her about it. It’d just be too weird. Instead, I thought about what I would say if my own daughter asked me something like that. Here’s what I came up with:
“You don’t. You just trust that God will make it all okay. You have to believe that you’ve just found the love of your life. If that doesn’t end up being true, then you have to move on. But everything happens for a reason. If you have to go through that, then God wanted you to go through that. Whatever happens, whether you’re happy or not, you’ll end up being a smarter, more mature person because of your experiences. Those qualities are things that nobody can mess up.”
I got married to the most gorgeous guy: chiseled jaw, washboard abs, perfect skin, pecs you could use as plates, the whole nine yards.
So, we get married, (which is approximately where my dream started), come back to where the family was for the wedding (they’ve all left by now for the reception), and I somehow find out that he’s slept with lots of other girls before. The dream ends. I know there’s a part of me that watched way too much “Sex and the City” that night, but the surprise in the dream really got me thinking. How well do you really know a person when your marriage with them is arranged?
So, I’ve been freaking out about this dream for the past month or so, wondering if I should talk to my mom about it. In the end, I decided not to talk to her about it. It’d just be too weird. Instead, I thought about what I would say if my own daughter asked me something like that. Here’s what I came up with:
“You don’t. You just trust that God will make it all okay. You have to believe that you’ve just found the love of your life. If that doesn’t end up being true, then you have to move on. But everything happens for a reason. If you have to go through that, then God wanted you to go through that. Whatever happens, whether you’re happy or not, you’ll end up being a smarter, more mature person because of your experiences. Those qualities are things that nobody can mess up.”
5.29.2006
Just say "Hi" and wave
I realize I haven't posted in a long time. I've been really busy trying to catch up in school. I've been hearing/thinking a lot about of friend of mine recently, though. So, today's post is for her:
Have you ever seen somebody you knew, in a store or on campus or something, but for some reason you didn't want to say hello? Not necessarily because you didn't like the person, but maybe because you didn't want to seem too clingy or stalker-ish.
Well, about a year ago, I found myself in this exact situation. I was sitting at a stop light in Davis, and my friend (who was in the car) said, "Hey, isn't that Vinny Sandhu?"
Sure enough, in the next lane and a car ahead of us, she was waiting at the same light. We both noted how cool she was, how much we liked her. I know it would have been pretty hard to get her attention, what with her being in her car with the windows rolled up and all and I never had her number so I couldn't exactly have called her up. Of course, at the time, we didn't think much of it.
Anyway, so the light turned green and Vinny drove off, and we went our direction as well. Not a big event, just a little interesting thing that happened that day.
Two and a half weeks later, I was sitting at home with my mom. She was on the phone with a good family friend of ours. My "auntie" was telling my mom that her daughter was really upset, crying hysterically for hours. Her best friend had died that day. Mom asked who it was that passed and said her name out loud.
"Vinny Sandu?"
My hands shot straight up to cover my gaping mouth and I stared wide-eyed at the carpet below me. My mind kept going back to that day, two and a half weeks before, when Vinny was simply on her way home from another day at school. I saw it over and over...
I wish I had honked.
I drive by the scene of the accident a few times per week; I still see the skid marks on the road. The grass on the side of the road is still black and burned. There is still a cross with flowers erected in her memory in the middle of the charred grass.
I still ask myself,"Why," even though I may never understand.
Moral of the story: Just say hello to that person even if they are just an acquaintance, because you never know when, or if, you'll see them again.
Have you ever seen somebody you knew, in a store or on campus or something, but for some reason you didn't want to say hello? Not necessarily because you didn't like the person, but maybe because you didn't want to seem too clingy or stalker-ish.
Well, about a year ago, I found myself in this exact situation. I was sitting at a stop light in Davis, and my friend (who was in the car) said, "Hey, isn't that Vinny Sandhu?"
Sure enough, in the next lane and a car ahead of us, she was waiting at the same light. We both noted how cool she was, how much we liked her. I know it would have been pretty hard to get her attention, what with her being in her car with the windows rolled up and all and I never had her number so I couldn't exactly have called her up. Of course, at the time, we didn't think much of it.
Anyway, so the light turned green and Vinny drove off, and we went our direction as well. Not a big event, just a little interesting thing that happened that day.
Two and a half weeks later, I was sitting at home with my mom. She was on the phone with a good family friend of ours. My "auntie" was telling my mom that her daughter was really upset, crying hysterically for hours. Her best friend had died that day. Mom asked who it was that passed and said her name out loud.
"Vinny Sandu?"
My hands shot straight up to cover my gaping mouth and I stared wide-eyed at the carpet below me. My mind kept going back to that day, two and a half weeks before, when Vinny was simply on her way home from another day at school. I saw it over and over...
I wish I had honked.
I drive by the scene of the accident a few times per week; I still see the skid marks on the road. The grass on the side of the road is still black and burned. There is still a cross with flowers erected in her memory in the middle of the charred grass.
I still ask myself,"Why," even though I may never understand.
Moral of the story: Just say hello to that person even if they are just an acquaintance, because you never know when, or if, you'll see them again.
5.13.2006
I Learned Something Today
I've been serenely looking for something for my mom, but so far nothing has really sparked my interest. Today, at work, I wanted to snag some lovely orchids so I'd at least have something to give besides cooking (an excellent) dinner tomorrow. As I scanned the aroma-filled floral section at Bel-Air (damn expensive, by the way) I found an arrangement I'd never seen before. It was a beautiful cymbidium orchid plant, the thick stem placed in its own small vase. The thing that really caught my eye though was that the whole plant was encased in a large cardboard box with a clear plastic front through which to see. Granted, the box was black for some reason, and had this ugly gold lining, but the concept was beautiful. It reminded me of those roses people get that come in a long box, you know? But, me being so indecisive, I started having doubts as to whether I should get it, whether it really was pretty, even before it was tediously rung up at the checkstand. I hesitantly bought the boxed arrangement, still terribly undecided, thinking I'd store it in the freezing 64-degree back room until I was off for the day. With feigned confidence, I marched back into the branch, where Jorge and Whitney were, and without a second's hesitation, Jorge mocked, "That is a tacky box they put that in." At first I was shocked, then just really really embarrassed. "It won't be in the box when I give it to her," I quickly replied, and rushed into the back room. I could feel my face blush as I tried my best to hide the flowers in the back, but the room is tiny and the box stuck out like a sore thumb. I didn't set foot in the back room if I could help it for the rest of the day; I sure as hell didn't so much as glance at the flowers. As I hurried to my car at the end of the day, I struggled to keep the gold lining against my chest so nobody would see and feel sorry for the loser that bought flowers in a box. I showed my brother when I got home, and he was really enthusiastic about liking the flowers, which definitely upped my confidence. But now, I keep thinking about this god-awful box in which the arrangement won't even be when I give this to mom. Damn Jorge. Seriously, what competent adult on earth says something like that? He might as well have shat out his mouth onto my self-esteem.
But I learned a couple of things right now, staring through the plastic. For one, Jorge is the most negative, most judgmental, pessimistic person I've ever met. Even though the front of the box was clear plastic and you could see right through to the flowers, he chose to first make a negative and condescending statement about the box! The outside! He judged the proverbial book by its cover! ...so cliche, so unbelievably cliche...
Second, I learned that it's unhealthy for me to be in Jorge's presence. I have been sitting for 20 minutes next to these flowers, these rather stunning gifts from God (with love), these delicate, stubborn flowers that someone before me took care of, nurished, trimmed, and had to let go, thinking that I had failed as a person to make a sound decision about what flowers to purchase on a day that businesses made up for their own profit, for a person who isn't even speaking to me (still!). I need to talk to dad about this tomorrow and see if he agrees that I should resign. I really think it's best for me, mentally and physically. Here's some more logic: I was talking to Mandeep today and we were talking about the job. She said she was having doubts as to whether she wanted to stay in banking, but she said she's never had a day where she woke up and thought, "Ugh, I have to work today." I realized I felt the exact opposite. I've never had a day where I woke up and thought, "Cool, I get to go to work today." For me, this is a dead-end job: Either I end it, or I'll die. Wow, that sounds way more serious than I wanted that to sound...
Okay enough depression. I wanted to have an appreciative, optimistic tone to this entry as well. Tonight, I realized I have the most amazing view of the moon at night, and I can stare at it from the comfort of my own home. We have these ridiculously huge windows in our home that let in some of the most spectacular sights I've seen in a long time. I think the night sky is ten times more enthralling when you can see it from inside your own home. Hopefully soon I'll have some pictures up, both of the night sky and the orchids. Then you can judge for yourself whether you like them or not!
Not that I'll care... :)
But I learned a couple of things right now, staring through the plastic. For one, Jorge is the most negative, most judgmental, pessimistic person I've ever met. Even though the front of the box was clear plastic and you could see right through to the flowers, he chose to first make a negative and condescending statement about the box! The outside! He judged the proverbial book by its cover! ...so cliche, so unbelievably cliche...
Second, I learned that it's unhealthy for me to be in Jorge's presence. I have been sitting for 20 minutes next to these flowers, these rather stunning gifts from God (with love), these delicate, stubborn flowers that someone before me took care of, nurished, trimmed, and had to let go, thinking that I had failed as a person to make a sound decision about what flowers to purchase on a day that businesses made up for their own profit, for a person who isn't even speaking to me (still!). I need to talk to dad about this tomorrow and see if he agrees that I should resign. I really think it's best for me, mentally and physically. Here's some more logic: I was talking to Mandeep today and we were talking about the job. She said she was having doubts as to whether she wanted to stay in banking, but she said she's never had a day where she woke up and thought, "Ugh, I have to work today." I realized I felt the exact opposite. I've never had a day where I woke up and thought, "Cool, I get to go to work today." For me, this is a dead-end job: Either I end it, or I'll die. Wow, that sounds way more serious than I wanted that to sound...
Okay enough depression. I wanted to have an appreciative, optimistic tone to this entry as well. Tonight, I realized I have the most amazing view of the moon at night, and I can stare at it from the comfort of my own home. We have these ridiculously huge windows in our home that let in some of the most spectacular sights I've seen in a long time. I think the night sky is ten times more enthralling when you can see it from inside your own home. Hopefully soon I'll have some pictures up, both of the night sky and the orchids. Then you can judge for yourself whether you like them or not!
Not that I'll care... :)
5.11.2006
Respect
So, I have this weird pet peeve: I absolutely hate it, HATE it, when people touch me with their feet. I don't know why, but the feeling of someone's foot on my body makes me want to throw up. There's something about the feeling of someone's foot on my skin or even my clothes that literally makes me gag. I also hate it when my own feet touch someone else.
The thing is, my mom knows this. She's done it many times, I've told her how I feel many times, and she's acknowledged it in the past. But for some reason she still does it. I'll explain:
I'm sitting on the couch with my brother, watching a show on my laptop. My mom comes and sits next to me, but is facing me. Her back is resting on the armrest, her feet are facing me. She starts talking to us, and asks me a question. While she asks me, she nudges the outside of my thigh with her foot to get my attention. My first reaction is to jerk my leg away, and I do (quite violently). I know she sees my jerk my leg away. While I'm looking at her, she asks me a second question (or asks me that first question a second time, I don't remember) and nudges me with her foot again. That time I pretty much lose it. "Don't do that!" She just kind of looks at me. "Why do you do that?" I can tell she's getting mad now, but I have to say this. "I've told you a million times that I don't like that!" She just looks at me at that point, and mutters, "Forget it," and walks off to the kitchen. A little later, dad calls me to the living room. It seems she has "told on me" to my dad. He asks why I yelled at mom. I explained the situation. Then he says something totally off-topic: "You don't understand what we've done for you, all we've done for you..." I cut him off, "I understand that, but that has nothing to do with what happened." Dad starts again, "No, you don't understand. We've done so much for you for 18 years..." I reply, "Yes, I understand that, but that has nothing to do with what happened. She knows I don't like people's feet on me." I turned to mom who is in the kitchen, "I'm sorry I yelled at you, mom, but you know I don't like that." She doesn't even look at me. Dad tells me to apologize (yes, after I just did) and give her a hug. I go over to her, apologize again, and she still doesn't even look at me. At this point a hug is either too fake or too hard for me to do. I tell my dad, "She doesn't care that I'm sorry," and go up to my room and I've been studying bio/ thinking about it since. What's worse, I've been in my room almost all night, and nobody (not even my brother?) came in to say goodnight.
I hate these days.
I don't want to come back home this weekend; not if my own parents don't respect me. Honestly though, the way my dad was speaking to/ at me, I think he may have secretly agreed with me because of how he paused in between his sentences. I think he just made me apologize to get the "fight" over with. Whatever.
The thing is, my mom knows this. She's done it many times, I've told her how I feel many times, and she's acknowledged it in the past. But for some reason she still does it. I'll explain:
I'm sitting on the couch with my brother, watching a show on my laptop. My mom comes and sits next to me, but is facing me. Her back is resting on the armrest, her feet are facing me. She starts talking to us, and asks me a question. While she asks me, she nudges the outside of my thigh with her foot to get my attention. My first reaction is to jerk my leg away, and I do (quite violently). I know she sees my jerk my leg away. While I'm looking at her, she asks me a second question (or asks me that first question a second time, I don't remember) and nudges me with her foot again. That time I pretty much lose it. "Don't do that!" She just kind of looks at me. "Why do you do that?" I can tell she's getting mad now, but I have to say this. "I've told you a million times that I don't like that!" She just looks at me at that point, and mutters, "Forget it," and walks off to the kitchen. A little later, dad calls me to the living room. It seems she has "told on me" to my dad. He asks why I yelled at mom. I explained the situation. Then he says something totally off-topic: "You don't understand what we've done for you, all we've done for you..." I cut him off, "I understand that, but that has nothing to do with what happened." Dad starts again, "No, you don't understand. We've done so much for you for 18 years..." I reply, "Yes, I understand that, but that has nothing to do with what happened. She knows I don't like people's feet on me." I turned to mom who is in the kitchen, "I'm sorry I yelled at you, mom, but you know I don't like that." She doesn't even look at me. Dad tells me to apologize (yes, after I just did) and give her a hug. I go over to her, apologize again, and she still doesn't even look at me. At this point a hug is either too fake or too hard for me to do. I tell my dad, "She doesn't care that I'm sorry," and go up to my room and I've been studying bio/ thinking about it since. What's worse, I've been in my room almost all night, and nobody (not even my brother?) came in to say goodnight.
I hate these days.
I don't want to come back home this weekend; not if my own parents don't respect me. Honestly though, the way my dad was speaking to/ at me, I think he may have secretly agreed with me because of how he paused in between his sentences. I think he just made me apologize to get the "fight" over with. Whatever.
5.09.2006
Yep, It's Definitely Spring...
What's this? I seem to have a crush on a good friend of mine. How did this happen?
Eh, I'll get over it. Don't you worry: I won't, nay, can't act on it. It'd just be too wierd.
But anyway, I was talking to a friend of mine today, Henry (from the party? remember?), and he was talking about his ride home that night with Heidi. Apparently, Heidi and Henry regretted that Xiomara and Paul were together, because Henry found Xiomara quite *fetching* and Heidi found Paul equally as *fetching.* HA! Everybody likes my friends!!! Whoooo HOooo!!!
I hope the above makes sense. I still hate spring, though.
Oh, Henry reminded me of another memorable quote from Pulp Fiction:
Sam Jackson, pointing a gun to this guy's head: "Describe what Marcellus Wallace looks like!"
Guy Scared Out of His Mind: " Whhaatt??"
SJ: "Describe what Marcellus Wallace looks like!"
Guy Scared Out of His Mind: "What? What? I.."
SJ, cocks the gun: "Say 'what' one more time, goddammit! I dare you, I double-dare you! Say 'what' one more time!"
I hate having a one-bedroom place...so lonely...gross. I HAVEN'T SAID A WORD OUT LOUD FOR THE PAST 3 HOURS >:-/
Hey, what should I do about the crush?
Eh, I'll get over it. Don't you worry: I won't, nay, can't act on it. It'd just be too wierd.
But anyway, I was talking to a friend of mine today, Henry (from the party? remember?), and he was talking about his ride home that night with Heidi. Apparently, Heidi and Henry regretted that Xiomara and Paul were together, because Henry found Xiomara quite *fetching* and Heidi found Paul equally as *fetching.* HA! Everybody likes my friends!!! Whoooo HOooo!!!
I hope the above makes sense. I still hate spring, though.
Oh, Henry reminded me of another memorable quote from Pulp Fiction:
Sam Jackson, pointing a gun to this guy's head: "Describe what Marcellus Wallace looks like!"
Guy Scared Out of His Mind: " Whhaatt??"
SJ: "Describe what Marcellus Wallace looks like!"
Guy Scared Out of His Mind: "What? What? I.."
SJ, cocks the gun: "Say 'what' one more time, goddammit! I dare you, I double-dare you! Say 'what' one more time!"
I hate having a one-bedroom place...so lonely...gross. I HAVEN'T SAID A WORD OUT LOUD FOR THE PAST 3 HOURS >:-/
Hey, what should I do about the crush?
5.08.2006
Best Week(end) Ever
I wanted today's post to be a really cheery one, so I'm (are you ready?) skipping class today! I know, I know, my stomach's in knots as I type, but I have to do this at least once this quarter. Wow, that was terrible logic.
So, for today's post I'll describe my Cinco de Mayo weekend. Actually, the Cinco de Mayo part was more of just Thursday and Friday, but I digress:
Thursday:
My friend Mina invited me over to watch Lord of the Rings at his place later that night. I had to finish writing my cover letter and resume for a stupid career class I'm taking, so I finished as quickly as I could and drove across Davis to his place. When I got there at 9:00, Mina, Jeremy and Henry were playing video games (Final Fantasy 7, I believe). We chatted it up for a little while until Dave and Albert got there, and then after massive hugs, chatted it up for a while longer until Jon arrived.
Creepiest Part of the Night: When Jon arrived, we couldn't see him because of the layout of the apartment. All the light we had was coming from the TV, and Jon didn't say anything after slooowly opening the door. Then we kept asking, " Jon? Is that you? Jon?" Still nothing. THEN, the frigging crazy guy sloowly opens the fridge door (we still can't see him). Ahhh, that was soo scary, although I didn't make how scared I was too obvious, as I was hanging out with guys and all. Anyway, so we're about to put in LOTR, and somehow we all decided to watch Pulp Fiction instead.
BEST DECISION OF THE NIGHT.
So we start watching the movie at about 10.
Stupidest Joke of the Night:
Jeremy tried to tell us a joke about the origin of Cinco de Mayo. I feel ashamed that I'm even reproducing this, but sometimes the truth hurts:
Long ago, before Best Foods Mayonaise was named "Best Foods," it was named "Helmund's" Mayonaise. Based in Helmund, Germany, hundreds of crates of the mayonaise were to be shipped to Mexico via the Titantic, because after New York, the Titantic's next stop would have been Mexico. As we all know, the Titantic sunk, and along with it, all the mayonaise. And that's how we got SINKo-de-MAYO.
Again, I apologize. Profusely.
Anyway, Pulp Fiction is one of the two movies I've seen with a group of guys, myself being the only girl. The other movie was Clockwork Orange. I thoroughly enjoyed both of them. A few memorable quotes from Pulp Fiction:
"Oh, man, I shot Marvin in the face..." -John Travolta
"Oh, oh, you're about to blow? I'm a mushroom-cloud-layin' motherfucker, motherfucker!"-Samuel L. Jackson
"I want you to reach in the bag, slowly, and get my wallet out."
"Which one is it?"
"It's the one that says, 'Bad Mother Fucker.'"
Those are the three best quotes, in my opinion. I can even say the mushroom cloud one really fast, like Samuel L. Jackson :)
Anyway, so near the end of the movie, Heidi gets there, but we're only there for about 30 mins until we all leave, but it's all good, because we were all going to see each other the next night!!
Except Jeremy.
And Dave couldn't come, but we were actually bummed about that one.
Friday:
Obviously I didn't go home, and I was quite okay with that. My best friend from high school, along with her boyfriend, were going to join me for the night and party at Mina's place and meet my UCD friends. After giving Xiomara (pronounced Shamada) directions like twice :) they finally arrived and we all left to Mina's place. There are House Rules posted at Mina's house, one of which is to not bring 'shady friends,' and I thoroughly warned Xiomara and Paul of this. I was actually more worried that Paul would be all shy, but he got along with the guys right away. Xiomara had a good time and everything, but I think she and Paul got into a small argument before they came or something and she was kind of holding a bit of a grudge. Anyway, I was ecstatic to see Paul bonding with the guys, albeit through drinking, but they were still being cool. I was also really happy to see all my UCD friends trying really hard to chat it up with Xiomara, and she was trying really hard as well. I don't mean to say that she had a strained relationship with the guys, but I think it was more a bummer that she and I were the only girls there, until Heidi showed up. I also think she expected more of a party than a hang out type of thing. To be honest, I expected that too. Anway, at about 1 or so, Paul, Xiomara and I headed back to my place because they had to drive home to YC. I made tea for Xiomara so she'd stay up for the ride home and we talked about having dinner the next day, so....
(by the way, I went to sleep at about 2)
Saturday:
At 9am I had work (i know, i know..) and had a really interesting lunch conversation with Jorge. I regret it now, but I pretty much told him everything that had happened the night before. I think he was proud that I didn't drink or get stupid with Albert (the guy has the body of a god) or anything like that, AND I came to work on time, well dressed, bla bla bla.
So I got to YC at about 7 and took my brother to dinner with Paul, Xiomara and me. We had fun, Paul got along really well with Varun, and vice versa. We went home and found out that our cousins were there and were staying the night, so that was fun too.
Sunday:
Kind of a nice lazy day with the family. While watching the Food Network with my bro and mom, Varun and I decided we wanted chicken for dinner and went to the grocery store to get something. When we got there though, we changed our minds and decided we wanted to make an awesome dinner for our parents that my dad could really enjoy as well, as he's vegetarian. We found a recipe card for pasta primavera and started shopping for all the ingredients when mom called and told us we had more company over. That ended up being perfect because when dinner was over, we had over half left over. Made-from-practically-scratch pasta primavera with a pasta sauce. One of the only Italian dishes I've really enjoyed. My mom kept saying she didn't have to worry about me anymore. Oh and...
Best Part of the Night: My uncle jokingly said to my mom, "Parveen, Sonia cooks better than you!" Yeah, that family has a weird sense of humor. Then I said, "Nobody cooks better than mom." I think my aunt really liked that I said that.
And now, here I am, my class will be over in about 15 mins and then I need, need, need, to catch up. If you're still reading this, I'm thoroughly impressed. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed actually experiencing it all hahahaha.
So, for today's post I'll describe my Cinco de Mayo weekend. Actually, the Cinco de Mayo part was more of just Thursday and Friday, but I digress:
Thursday:
My friend Mina invited me over to watch Lord of the Rings at his place later that night. I had to finish writing my cover letter and resume for a stupid career class I'm taking, so I finished as quickly as I could and drove across Davis to his place. When I got there at 9:00, Mina, Jeremy and Henry were playing video games (Final Fantasy 7, I believe). We chatted it up for a little while until Dave and Albert got there, and then after massive hugs, chatted it up for a while longer until Jon arrived.
Creepiest Part of the Night: When Jon arrived, we couldn't see him because of the layout of the apartment. All the light we had was coming from the TV, and Jon didn't say anything after slooowly opening the door. Then we kept asking, " Jon? Is that you? Jon?" Still nothing. THEN, the frigging crazy guy sloowly opens the fridge door (we still can't see him). Ahhh, that was soo scary, although I didn't make how scared I was too obvious, as I was hanging out with guys and all. Anyway, so we're about to put in LOTR, and somehow we all decided to watch Pulp Fiction instead.
BEST DECISION OF THE NIGHT.
So we start watching the movie at about 10.
Stupidest Joke of the Night:
Jeremy tried to tell us a joke about the origin of Cinco de Mayo. I feel ashamed that I'm even reproducing this, but sometimes the truth hurts:
Long ago, before Best Foods Mayonaise was named "Best Foods," it was named "Helmund's" Mayonaise. Based in Helmund, Germany, hundreds of crates of the mayonaise were to be shipped to Mexico via the Titantic, because after New York, the Titantic's next stop would have been Mexico. As we all know, the Titantic sunk, and along with it, all the mayonaise. And that's how we got SINKo-de-MAYO.
Again, I apologize. Profusely.
Anyway, Pulp Fiction is one of the two movies I've seen with a group of guys, myself being the only girl. The other movie was Clockwork Orange. I thoroughly enjoyed both of them. A few memorable quotes from Pulp Fiction:
"Oh, man, I shot Marvin in the face..." -John Travolta
"Oh, oh, you're about to blow? I'm a mushroom-cloud-layin' motherfucker, motherfucker!"-Samuel L. Jackson
"I want you to reach in the bag, slowly, and get my wallet out."
"Which one is it?"
"It's the one that says, 'Bad Mother Fucker.'"
Those are the three best quotes, in my opinion. I can even say the mushroom cloud one really fast, like Samuel L. Jackson :)
Anyway, so near the end of the movie, Heidi gets there, but we're only there for about 30 mins until we all leave, but it's all good, because we were all going to see each other the next night!!
Except Jeremy.
And Dave couldn't come, but we were actually bummed about that one.
Friday:
Obviously I didn't go home, and I was quite okay with that. My best friend from high school, along with her boyfriend, were going to join me for the night and party at Mina's place and meet my UCD friends. After giving Xiomara (pronounced Shamada) directions like twice :) they finally arrived and we all left to Mina's place. There are House Rules posted at Mina's house, one of which is to not bring 'shady friends,' and I thoroughly warned Xiomara and Paul of this. I was actually more worried that Paul would be all shy, but he got along with the guys right away. Xiomara had a good time and everything, but I think she and Paul got into a small argument before they came or something and she was kind of holding a bit of a grudge. Anyway, I was ecstatic to see Paul bonding with the guys, albeit through drinking, but they were still being cool. I was also really happy to see all my UCD friends trying really hard to chat it up with Xiomara, and she was trying really hard as well. I don't mean to say that she had a strained relationship with the guys, but I think it was more a bummer that she and I were the only girls there, until Heidi showed up. I also think she expected more of a party than a hang out type of thing. To be honest, I expected that too. Anway, at about 1 or so, Paul, Xiomara and I headed back to my place because they had to drive home to YC. I made tea for Xiomara so she'd stay up for the ride home and we talked about having dinner the next day, so....
(by the way, I went to sleep at about 2)
Saturday:
At 9am I had work (i know, i know..) and had a really interesting lunch conversation with Jorge. I regret it now, but I pretty much told him everything that had happened the night before. I think he was proud that I didn't drink or get stupid with Albert (the guy has the body of a god) or anything like that, AND I came to work on time, well dressed, bla bla bla.
So I got to YC at about 7 and took my brother to dinner with Paul, Xiomara and me. We had fun, Paul got along really well with Varun, and vice versa. We went home and found out that our cousins were there and were staying the night, so that was fun too.
Sunday:
Kind of a nice lazy day with the family. While watching the Food Network with my bro and mom, Varun and I decided we wanted chicken for dinner and went to the grocery store to get something. When we got there though, we changed our minds and decided we wanted to make an awesome dinner for our parents that my dad could really enjoy as well, as he's vegetarian. We found a recipe card for pasta primavera and started shopping for all the ingredients when mom called and told us we had more company over. That ended up being perfect because when dinner was over, we had over half left over. Made-from-practically-scratch pasta primavera with a pasta sauce. One of the only Italian dishes I've really enjoyed. My mom kept saying she didn't have to worry about me anymore. Oh and...
Best Part of the Night: My uncle jokingly said to my mom, "Parveen, Sonia cooks better than you!" Yeah, that family has a weird sense of humor. Then I said, "Nobody cooks better than mom." I think my aunt really liked that I said that.
And now, here I am, my class will be over in about 15 mins and then I need, need, need, to catch up. If you're still reading this, I'm thoroughly impressed. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed actually experiencing it all hahahaha.
5.02.2006
If I Were You
You seem to find the dark/when everything is bright/ you look for all that's wrong/instead of all that's right/ does it feel good to you/ to rain on my parade?/ you never say a word/ unless it's to complain/ it's driving me insane.
If I were you/ holding the world right in my hands/ the first thing I'd do/ is thank the stars for all that I have/ If I were you
Look what's around you now/ more than you've ever dreamed/ have you forgotten just/how hard it used to be?/ So what's it going to take/ for you realize/ it all could go away/ in one blink of an eye/ it happens all the time
These are partial lyrics from Hoobastank's If I Were You.
Unfortunately I've met several people in my life who have never really realized how much they have. No matter how bad your day was, theirs was worse. If you just broke your leg, they broke both theirs at the same time when they were three, and nobody was home to help them, so they pulled themselves to a phone and dialed 911, and yadda yadda yadda. If you're having a good day, but they're not, they have to tell you all about how bad their day was so you feel bad for them. Damn pity mongers.
Moving away from home made me realize just how much I love my family and all they provide for me. Granted, I'm only an hour away, but little things freak me out, like forgetting to do homework, picking classes, changing my major. When I was at home, I always had my mom to talk to about this stuff and if that didn't work, I had dad and Varun. (I've realized they're a better choice in the advice dept. anyway.) It's just harder to deal with the little things when nobody else is around.
I guess my point is that I want people to think, "Am I one of those people who always complains and try to one-up people?" If you can't say you are, cool. Just check yourself when you get into a conversation with one of those people (better yet, check them). And if you are one of those people, don't be all sad about it. Try to be conscious of the way you think and what you say to people. When you say good, positive things to other people, even if it is about your own life, people will think pleasantly about you and genuinely enjoy your company. Try it, I dare you. See how long the conversation lasts and who ends it. (By who ends it, I don't mean who "gets the last word," punk.)
If I were you/ holding the world right in my hands/ the first thing I'd do/ is thank the stars for all that I have/ If I were you
Look what's around you now/ more than you've ever dreamed/ have you forgotten just/how hard it used to be?/ So what's it going to take/ for you realize/ it all could go away/ in one blink of an eye/ it happens all the time
These are partial lyrics from Hoobastank's If I Were You.
Unfortunately I've met several people in my life who have never really realized how much they have. No matter how bad your day was, theirs was worse. If you just broke your leg, they broke both theirs at the same time when they were three, and nobody was home to help them, so they pulled themselves to a phone and dialed 911, and yadda yadda yadda. If you're having a good day, but they're not, they have to tell you all about how bad their day was so you feel bad for them. Damn pity mongers.
Moving away from home made me realize just how much I love my family and all they provide for me. Granted, I'm only an hour away, but little things freak me out, like forgetting to do homework, picking classes, changing my major. When I was at home, I always had my mom to talk to about this stuff and if that didn't work, I had dad and Varun. (I've realized they're a better choice in the advice dept. anyway.) It's just harder to deal with the little things when nobody else is around.
I guess my point is that I want people to think, "Am I one of those people who always complains and try to one-up people?" If you can't say you are, cool. Just check yourself when you get into a conversation with one of those people (better yet, check them). And if you are one of those people, don't be all sad about it. Try to be conscious of the way you think and what you say to people. When you say good, positive things to other people, even if it is about your own life, people will think pleasantly about you and genuinely enjoy your company. Try it, I dare you. See how long the conversation lasts and who ends it. (By who ends it, I don't mean who "gets the last word," punk.)
4.18.2006
I Don't Do Well on Tests
Up until a minute ago, I thought that every problem I faced in life, I faced with my parents. We were together against the problem. Today I had a different thought. Why haven't I ever expected God to test my strength; mine alone? I'm starting to realize that maybe there are issues that my parents will disagree with me upon. However, does that automatically make them correct? Why is it that I simply forfeit all my arguments for their sake? I think that if God has been testing me in this way all along, then I've been failing God in this way, all along.
My parents should be with me, on my side, in times like these when my life presents problems to me. Perhaps God is testing them as well, seeing if they will be able to let me make a decision that will impact my life without their approval, let alone their advice.
Phone, parents:
Wait, a change of heart (theirs, not mine)? Perhaps...
finance: 752-2390
crd: 752-3558
why Why WHY do they play with me like this? I'm not even sure what they just said. Okay, so first things first: financial aid. If I major in CRD now, it'll take three more years of school at the very least (no India this summer, not for three more years). I'll have to take all summer sessions, and as many classes per quarter as I can handle. But, if I really am passionate about CRD, I might enjoy three years of learning about it. But my parents still have to get my brother through school as well. If I can manage to get enough (by enough, I mean any) financial aid, I can do this. Three years of back-breaking, midnight oil-burning, parents constantly disapproving studying.
I'm ready.
Job-wise: I'll be a CRD major competing with civil engineers and people with masters' degrees. That will be so hard to get through if my parents don't stop harping about economics.
Economics: The catch-all major. It would only take two years and I could get a job at a bank, an investing firm, anything I want--except a planning company.
Why couldn't I have figured this all out before college? My life would have been immensely easier to manage. Oh, right: I was 17.
My parents should be with me, on my side, in times like these when my life presents problems to me. Perhaps God is testing them as well, seeing if they will be able to let me make a decision that will impact my life without their approval, let alone their advice.
Phone, parents:
Wait, a change of heart (theirs, not mine)? Perhaps...
finance: 752-2390
crd: 752-3558
why Why WHY do they play with me like this? I'm not even sure what they just said. Okay, so first things first: financial aid. If I major in CRD now, it'll take three more years of school at the very least (no India this summer, not for three more years). I'll have to take all summer sessions, and as many classes per quarter as I can handle. But, if I really am passionate about CRD, I might enjoy three years of learning about it. But my parents still have to get my brother through school as well. If I can manage to get enough (by enough, I mean any) financial aid, I can do this. Three years of back-breaking, midnight oil-burning, parents constantly disapproving studying.
I'm ready.
Job-wise: I'll be a CRD major competing with civil engineers and people with masters' degrees. That will be so hard to get through if my parents don't stop harping about economics.
Economics: The catch-all major. It would only take two years and I could get a job at a bank, an investing firm, anything I want--except a planning company.
Why couldn't I have figured this all out before college? My life would have been immensely easier to manage. Oh, right: I was 17.
4.15.2006
Riddle For You
I turn polar bears white and
will make you cry.
I make guys have to pee and
make girls comb their hair.
I make celebrities look stupid
and make normal people look like celebrities.
I turn pancakes brown
and make your champagne bubble.
If you squeeze me, I'll pop;
If you look at me, you'll pop.
Can you guess the riddle?
84% of Kindergartners got this, but 97% of Harvard grads did not! Don't ask me as I won't tell you. Please put your answers in the comments section.
Thanks
will make you cry.
I make guys have to pee and
make girls comb their hair.
I make celebrities look stupid
and make normal people look like celebrities.
I turn pancakes brown
and make your champagne bubble.
If you squeeze me, I'll pop;
If you look at me, you'll pop.
Can you guess the riddle?
84% of Kindergartners got this, but 97% of Harvard grads did not! Don't ask me as I won't tell you. Please put your answers in the comments section.
Thanks
4.14.2006
CRD
I never even thought of this before a few minutes ago. I could someday start my own regional development company.
It's what I want to do. It started with Oprah's trip to Africa, igniting in me a spark, flame, passion to build schools in India; then the ideas flooded my head, jobs, infrastructure, transportation... How can I put all these ideas for the development of a city into one dream??
I can't believe it's even possible. I can't believe there's a name, job, path that is exactly what I want to do. And because I knew I wanted to do this even before I knew anything about it, I know this is right for me. I know I can do this. That's such a good feeling; something I haven't felt in a long time, but I'm sooo grateful to God that I'm feeling this now.
There's a career fair next week that I'm going to. There will be a couple of urban planning companies there. I'm so excited to meet them. I want to know everything about them: how they started, who started the company, what they've done. I mean, to me, to be able to look at a particular side of town or even an entire city and say, "Yeah, I helped design that. I helped make that even possible." That, to me, is ectasy. I still can't even believe that it's possible. I'm so sure of this. I'm sure of myself, my abilities, my potential. Why have I put this off for so long? Is it because I was scared to leave science? Yes. I still am. But that is something I'm going to need help with, I'll admit. It's something I need to get over in order to fulfill my destiny. How corny. Well, it's true. CRD is my destiny, my dream, my passion. Ultimately, one day, I will have my own company for Community and Regional Development. And you will be proud of me.
South Asian magazines will interview me, I'll be a big shot in the field of CRD. People my age now will want to shadow me. I can't wait. I'm going to show them how excited I am. I'm going to show all of you how determined I am. I'm going to get a job in this field if I have to beg for it. And I'll get a job in one of the companies I talk to next week. That means I better quit the bank soon. See, I thought I should keep the bank job since I dropped chem and it'd be a lot easier to deal with, but I open with Jorge again tomorrow, so we'll see.
This career fair is going to be pretty darn awesome. I CAN'T WAIT!!!!!
It's what I want to do. It started with Oprah's trip to Africa, igniting in me a spark, flame, passion to build schools in India; then the ideas flooded my head, jobs, infrastructure, transportation... How can I put all these ideas for the development of a city into one dream??
I can't believe it's even possible. I can't believe there's a name, job, path that is exactly what I want to do. And because I knew I wanted to do this even before I knew anything about it, I know this is right for me. I know I can do this. That's such a good feeling; something I haven't felt in a long time, but I'm sooo grateful to God that I'm feeling this now.
There's a career fair next week that I'm going to. There will be a couple of urban planning companies there. I'm so excited to meet them. I want to know everything about them: how they started, who started the company, what they've done. I mean, to me, to be able to look at a particular side of town or even an entire city and say, "Yeah, I helped design that. I helped make that even possible." That, to me, is ectasy. I still can't even believe that it's possible. I'm so sure of this. I'm sure of myself, my abilities, my potential. Why have I put this off for so long? Is it because I was scared to leave science? Yes. I still am. But that is something I'm going to need help with, I'll admit. It's something I need to get over in order to fulfill my destiny. How corny. Well, it's true. CRD is my destiny, my dream, my passion. Ultimately, one day, I will have my own company for Community and Regional Development. And you will be proud of me.
South Asian magazines will interview me, I'll be a big shot in the field of CRD. People my age now will want to shadow me. I can't wait. I'm going to show them how excited I am. I'm going to show all of you how determined I am. I'm going to get a job in this field if I have to beg for it. And I'll get a job in one of the companies I talk to next week. That means I better quit the bank soon. See, I thought I should keep the bank job since I dropped chem and it'd be a lot easier to deal with, but I open with Jorge again tomorrow, so we'll see.
This career fair is going to be pretty darn awesome. I CAN'T WAIT!!!!!
4.11.2006
Overwhelmed
O-chem 118B:
Why am I giving up?
I'm not; I'm being smart. I know my limitations. My GPA is more important than which classes I take right now.
Why do I feel like this then?
I'm not over it. I feel like I'm giving up, disappointing my tutor, my mom, myself.
When will this feeling go away?
I don't know. Maybe at the end of the quarter when I get my grades; if they're good, I'll know I did the right thing.
Will I be able to handle this type of stress in med school?
If God wants me to, God will guide me through it.
Then what about that running thing? Hard at first (first 3 laps), but it gets easier(last 5 laps), isn't that what God told you?
Yes, I believe so. "Keep trying no matter how hard it seems; it will get easier." I keep thinking about that. I'm not sure if I'm making the right decision. Maybe it's more than just not giving up. Maybe I have to actively make smart decisions in order to get through this initial tough part. I'm not sure, but my advisor and dad told me to definitely drop it, while mom and my tutor said to keep going. I need God to tell me just a little bit more; I'd like to be just a little bit more sure of this. But I guess that's the whole point of religion: faith.
I just had a thought: It could be that I'm not even supposed to be in science and that's why I'm having these hard times.
One thing I wonder about is why my mom keeps bringing up Community and Regional Development. I don't even feel anything toward CRD anymore (except when I read Jawarharlal Nehru's letters to his daughter). My mom apologized for talking me into going back into science. She doesn't think I can handle science. When I'm in science, she doesn't think I can handle it, but when I leave science, she convinces me to go back. That irritates me. I need to talk to her about that. But all she wants to do is to help me; she just doesn't know what to say, I guess. I should stop taking her advice I think and just start talking to my dad. He always gives very sound advice, he always knows what he's talking about.
Dad's going to have surgery tomorrow. I'm starting to get scared about that. I wonder if he's scared...
I just got off the phone with my o-chem tutor; I told her that I'm dropping. I still have no idea how she feels about it, other than the fact that she won't be getting $20/hour from me. But seriously, I think she supports me.
...Now I'm worrying about my dad. he'll be fine, c'mon how can I believe that?
Why am I not studying right now??
I'm going to pray some.
Why am I giving up?
I'm not; I'm being smart. I know my limitations. My GPA is more important than which classes I take right now.
Why do I feel like this then?
I'm not over it. I feel like I'm giving up, disappointing my tutor, my mom, myself.
When will this feeling go away?
I don't know. Maybe at the end of the quarter when I get my grades; if they're good, I'll know I did the right thing.
Will I be able to handle this type of stress in med school?
If God wants me to, God will guide me through it.
Then what about that running thing? Hard at first (first 3 laps), but it gets easier(last 5 laps), isn't that what God told you?
Yes, I believe so. "Keep trying no matter how hard it seems; it will get easier." I keep thinking about that. I'm not sure if I'm making the right decision. Maybe it's more than just not giving up. Maybe I have to actively make smart decisions in order to get through this initial tough part. I'm not sure, but my advisor and dad told me to definitely drop it, while mom and my tutor said to keep going. I need God to tell me just a little bit more; I'd like to be just a little bit more sure of this. But I guess that's the whole point of religion: faith.
I just had a thought: It could be that I'm not even supposed to be in science and that's why I'm having these hard times.
One thing I wonder about is why my mom keeps bringing up Community and Regional Development. I don't even feel anything toward CRD anymore (except when I read Jawarharlal Nehru's letters to his daughter). My mom apologized for talking me into going back into science. She doesn't think I can handle science. When I'm in science, she doesn't think I can handle it, but when I leave science, she convinces me to go back. That irritates me. I need to talk to her about that. But all she wants to do is to help me; she just doesn't know what to say, I guess. I should stop taking her advice I think and just start talking to my dad. He always gives very sound advice, he always knows what he's talking about.
Dad's going to have surgery tomorrow. I'm starting to get scared about that. I wonder if he's scared...
I just got off the phone with my o-chem tutor; I told her that I'm dropping. I still have no idea how she feels about it, other than the fact that she won't be getting $20/hour from me. But seriously, I think she supports me.
...Now I'm worrying about my dad. he'll be fine, c'mon how can I believe that?
Why am I not studying right now??
I'm going to pray some.
4.08.2006
Nice to Meet You Anyway
I'm quitting my job at the bank this week. I have to, it's just too much drama keeping me up at night wondering if I should be fired, how I'm going to meet my sales goal, the stupid things Jorge says to me. It's ridiculous. I should back up a bit.
Okay, so I work at a bank. Last quarter was a really rough quarter for me academically, and I decided to just take most of the quarter off of work to focus as much as possible on school. So, naturally, the bank took my keys from me (no point in me having them as I wasn't going to work; also for security reasons). But this quarter, I wanted to work just one day a week so I could make some money and still study my ass off. But they didn't give my my keys back! So, with no keys I have no access to cash (to give cash back to any customers). But that's not all: I'm not even logged onto the system, so I can't even do transactions that involve no cash (check deposits, etc.)!!! So, what else does a teller do if she can't...tell (I have no idea if that's the correct term for what I do). I literally just walk around and try to talk to uninterested customers about our free checking accounts. And my luck, though it never was all that great, has become worse. Today for example, I'm out there for six hours (do you know what it's like to stand in heels for six hours??) taking complete shit from really rude people, and I get ONE referral (from a person who is already an account-holder, I found out later). Courtney, on the other hand, the most annoying pagal girl ever, stands out there (by out there, I mean in the aisles of the grocery store that the bank is in) for about 10 minutes, comes back and says,"Somebody wants to come in and open a CD in a few minutes, and I think somebody else wants to open a checking account tomorrow."
My blood boiled.
Shannon (my supervisor today) just looked at me with this look that said one of two things:
1) Dood that sucks for you, I'm sorry. But what happened? You used to be so good at talking to people and convincing them to come talk to me...or,
2) Why are you still employed here? You're existence is completely pointless.
And Shannon's the one I like.
Then, last week, Jorge (one of my two bosses) opened the branch with me. He wouldn't stop taunting me and just pointing out the most menial little things about my situation. He has this weird habit of asking me (only me) the most random questions (Do you believe in the Holy Trinity? What does it mean to you?) and making you feel like the stupidest person on the face of the earth (I'm just realizing that I'm quite mad right now and some of the things I say might have a tinge of incompetence attached to them; you can decide for yourself which things those are). The one thing that makes me mad about Jorge (not in the Paul Reiser/Helen Hunt way) is when he questions and insults my intelligence and integrity. Oh, don't worry, I'll give you examples of both.
Intelligence
So, everybody that goes to Davis knows that you're supposed to study 3 hours per unit that you're taking. So, if you have a 3 unit class, you should study 9 hours/ week for that class. Well, I'm taking 15 units right now, a normal load for the quarter system, which translates into a full time job, except studying. So I mention this system to Jorge how I'm supposed to study about 10 hrs/day outside of class to do well. And this is what he says: "Are you really failing that bad that you need to study 10 hours a day?"
Now for those of you that know me, you know that I tolerate quite a bit from people(ahem assholes, ahem) like him. The one thing that I will not tolerate is a questioning or insult of my intelligence. Of course, as I was about to rebuke, he turned away, I had customers, phone calls, coworker chat for the rest of the day, and he went into the office and worked there for the rest of the day. By the way, Jorge never went to college.
Integrity
Now I know he was just joking (Pardon me while I eat a banana. Okay, done. Thanks for waiting.) the first time. I let it go the first time. The second time, I didn't laugh, but smiled back. I can tolerate things like this, remember? But as I was leaving for the day ( at 2:15 pm) I said goodbye to Jorge, having forgotten about the earlier events. He then took my hand, and said, very sweetly, and very sarcastically, " I'd like to thank you for your hard work and your contribution to the success of this branch." I wanted so badly to just slap the 10 pores off his face. But it was time for me to go home, and nothing would keep me there a minute longer. So I just smiled back, again, said goodbye, again, and left, taking deep breaths the whole way to the car. In the car, I broke down. I didn't cry, but I did everything else. Beating the steering wheel, the ceiling, pulling my seatbelt down so fast I still have a slight burn on my neck. I had major road rage on the way home; I felt like I was from New Jersey. I've been thinking about the way he treated me all week, and have come to this abrupt conclusion:
I gotta get outta there.
Okay, so I work at a bank. Last quarter was a really rough quarter for me academically, and I decided to just take most of the quarter off of work to focus as much as possible on school. So, naturally, the bank took my keys from me (no point in me having them as I wasn't going to work; also for security reasons). But this quarter, I wanted to work just one day a week so I could make some money and still study my ass off. But they didn't give my my keys back! So, with no keys I have no access to cash (to give cash back to any customers). But that's not all: I'm not even logged onto the system, so I can't even do transactions that involve no cash (check deposits, etc.)!!! So, what else does a teller do if she can't...tell (I have no idea if that's the correct term for what I do). I literally just walk around and try to talk to uninterested customers about our free checking accounts. And my luck, though it never was all that great, has become worse. Today for example, I'm out there for six hours (do you know what it's like to stand in heels for six hours??) taking complete shit from really rude people, and I get ONE referral (from a person who is already an account-holder, I found out later). Courtney, on the other hand, the most annoying pagal girl ever, stands out there (by out there, I mean in the aisles of the grocery store that the bank is in) for about 10 minutes, comes back and says,"Somebody wants to come in and open a CD in a few minutes, and I think somebody else wants to open a checking account tomorrow."
My blood boiled.
Shannon (my supervisor today) just looked at me with this look that said one of two things:
1) Dood that sucks for you, I'm sorry. But what happened? You used to be so good at talking to people and convincing them to come talk to me...or,
2) Why are you still employed here? You're existence is completely pointless.
And Shannon's the one I like.
Then, last week, Jorge (one of my two bosses) opened the branch with me. He wouldn't stop taunting me and just pointing out the most menial little things about my situation. He has this weird habit of asking me (only me) the most random questions (Do you believe in the Holy Trinity? What does it mean to you?) and making you feel like the stupidest person on the face of the earth (I'm just realizing that I'm quite mad right now and some of the things I say might have a tinge of incompetence attached to them; you can decide for yourself which things those are). The one thing that makes me mad about Jorge (not in the Paul Reiser/Helen Hunt way) is when he questions and insults my intelligence and integrity. Oh, don't worry, I'll give you examples of both.
Intelligence
So, everybody that goes to Davis knows that you're supposed to study 3 hours per unit that you're taking. So, if you have a 3 unit class, you should study 9 hours/ week for that class. Well, I'm taking 15 units right now, a normal load for the quarter system, which translates into a full time job, except studying. So I mention this system to Jorge how I'm supposed to study about 10 hrs/day outside of class to do well. And this is what he says: "Are you really failing that bad that you need to study 10 hours a day?"
Now for those of you that know me, you know that I tolerate quite a bit from people(ahem assholes, ahem) like him. The one thing that I will not tolerate is a questioning or insult of my intelligence. Of course, as I was about to rebuke, he turned away, I had customers, phone calls, coworker chat for the rest of the day, and he went into the office and worked there for the rest of the day. By the way, Jorge never went to college.
Integrity
Now I know he was just joking (Pardon me while I eat a banana. Okay, done. Thanks for waiting.) the first time. I let it go the first time. The second time, I didn't laugh, but smiled back. I can tolerate things like this, remember? But as I was leaving for the day ( at 2:15 pm) I said goodbye to Jorge, having forgotten about the earlier events. He then took my hand, and said, very sweetly, and very sarcastically, " I'd like to thank you for your hard work and your contribution to the success of this branch." I wanted so badly to just slap the 10 pores off his face. But it was time for me to go home, and nothing would keep me there a minute longer. So I just smiled back, again, said goodbye, again, and left, taking deep breaths the whole way to the car. In the car, I broke down. I didn't cry, but I did everything else. Beating the steering wheel, the ceiling, pulling my seatbelt down so fast I still have a slight burn on my neck. I had major road rage on the way home; I felt like I was from New Jersey. I've been thinking about the way he treated me all week, and have come to this abrupt conclusion:
I gotta get outta there.
4.02.2006
"Day" Dream
I don't know what it was. I couldn't bring myself to lie down last night. At first I was excited, happy, optimistic and then...well then I was their antithesis. I did, fortunately find a new and very interesting blog to read. For those of you who are interested, it's called New York Hack and it's posted on this website. I read that blog for quite some time.
So I must have started sleeping at about 5:45 a.m. or so, because I noticed through my window coverings the sort of light that reminds you of dawn, hope and beginnings. I guess knowing the hour helped too.
I woke up at what was technically 8:00 in the morning (which felt like 7a.m., Daylight Savings Time was definitely not publicized enough this time around).
Yes, I woke up, but I still felt him so strongly, surely, happily. I felt his papery dry, slightly gnarled, but experienced fingers wrap easily around my small hand. It was as if our hands were chiral objects, nonsuperimposable, identical. Despite the noisy cab (too much New York Hack) we were in, I could hear our dry hands whisper together as they struggled to fit each other in the way that all hands can--all hands, that is, except our own. All his wisdom and love simply flowed (there is no other word of which I can think to describe the phenomenon) from his left hand to my right. I didn't want to let go to offer my other hand because I knew that letting go would end our time and I'd wake up. I didn't want to let go, I wanted to talk with him, make him laugh, laugh with him, hug him, anything. Anything but wake up.
I miss my grandpa so much.
So I must have started sleeping at about 5:45 a.m. or so, because I noticed through my window coverings the sort of light that reminds you of dawn, hope and beginnings. I guess knowing the hour helped too.
I woke up at what was technically 8:00 in the morning (which felt like 7a.m., Daylight Savings Time was definitely not publicized enough this time around).
Yes, I woke up, but I still felt him so strongly, surely, happily. I felt his papery dry, slightly gnarled, but experienced fingers wrap easily around my small hand. It was as if our hands were chiral objects, nonsuperimposable, identical. Despite the noisy cab (too much New York Hack) we were in, I could hear our dry hands whisper together as they struggled to fit each other in the way that all hands can--all hands, that is, except our own. All his wisdom and love simply flowed (there is no other word of which I can think to describe the phenomenon) from his left hand to my right. I didn't want to let go to offer my other hand because I knew that letting go would end our time and I'd wake up. I didn't want to let go, I wanted to talk with him, make him laugh, laugh with him, hug him, anything. Anything but wake up.
I miss my grandpa so much.
3.31.2006
A Sincere Woo Hoo
I may be punished, scolded, spoken with. But it's only because I yelled, "Yesss!" at the top of my lungs and put my hands together, thereby making the loudest noise I've ever heard myself make (spare me the fart jokes, please). Why am I so happy? Why am I, who would win the "Realist of the Year" award if there was one, frightening my upstairs neighbor? Do you want me to tell you why I do it? Okay, I will tell you why I do it.
I'm no longer part of that crowd without ambition, soon (if they haven't been already) to be dislocated from the plastic folding chairs that would be reserved for them at a ceremony as old as educational progress itself. This is so, in no small part I believe, thanks to a certain Being known by many names, whom I'll simply call Lord (though that doesn't seem to make my divine friend, creator, guardian real enough. Perhaps I'll think of a better name some other time).
Yes, my organic chemistry grade was terrible; yes, I could have done better--much better, in fact. But I'll save that determination for this quarter.
Oh, this quarter that started on a Wednesday and then gave us a three day weekend as if to say, "I understand how hard it must be to come back to a new quarter after an only 5 day spring break, really I do."
But perhaps such a short break was a good thing. My wounded self-esteem still stings from the previous final, and every hour I don't study more o-chem, bio, history of modern India, I begin again to feel the sting of academic defeat, embarrassment, probation. Like now, for instance. Ow.
Yes, coming back to bus lines, classes, studying after such a short break is a good thing. My resolution is fresh and as long as it doesn't expire for two weeks, I believe I can do quite well on my first biology midterm. Then that sense of accomplishement, that exhilaration that only comes from doing well on an exam, that feeling of pride that has left me for the last two years will return, fuel, push me to keep studying.
At least that's the plan.
I'm no longer part of that crowd without ambition, soon (if they haven't been already) to be dislocated from the plastic folding chairs that would be reserved for them at a ceremony as old as educational progress itself. This is so, in no small part I believe, thanks to a certain Being known by many names, whom I'll simply call Lord (though that doesn't seem to make my divine friend, creator, guardian real enough. Perhaps I'll think of a better name some other time).
Yes, my organic chemistry grade was terrible; yes, I could have done better--much better, in fact. But I'll save that determination for this quarter.
Oh, this quarter that started on a Wednesday and then gave us a three day weekend as if to say, "I understand how hard it must be to come back to a new quarter after an only 5 day spring break, really I do."
But perhaps such a short break was a good thing. My wounded self-esteem still stings from the previous final, and every hour I don't study more o-chem, bio, history of modern India, I begin again to feel the sting of academic defeat, embarrassment, probation. Like now, for instance. Ow.
Yes, coming back to bus lines, classes, studying after such a short break is a good thing. My resolution is fresh and as long as it doesn't expire for two weeks, I believe I can do quite well on my first biology midterm. Then that sense of accomplishement, that exhilaration that only comes from doing well on an exam, that feeling of pride that has left me for the last two years will return, fuel, push me to keep studying.
At least that's the plan.
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