The inconvenient truth(s) of being a writer

I'm back from my long hiatus from blogging.  I haven't gotten to it despite winter break having begun for a while now.  I took a little trifling vacation and did some soul-searching.  In that soul-searching, I came up with quite the variety of blogpost topics.  However, I now refrain from blogging about any of those (that is, out of the ones that I can actually remember).

I refrain from writing a lot of the time.  I feel like being a writer (or in my case, writer-in-training/writer-wannabe) means handling something very delicate - like if you aren't tip-toeing painstakingly enough, something will snap, whether that be a personal relationship or...even a career (your boss may find your post disturbing - gasp!).

Like today, I wanted to blog about how my mother thinks I may be incapable of finding a boyfriend.  But as I started to type...actually, no, scratch that - I never started to type.  It was too much of a hot topic to get started on.  Sometimes what I brainstorm becomes too personal, too brash, or even too uncensored.  Sometimes potentially intense and colorful ideas get shoved aside because I fear that they may be too much for the general audience to handle (not that I have much of an audience). And because you never know who is reading, you try (or at least, I try) to not offend any individual who just might be offended.  For example, my parents. I don't hide my blog from them; I don't think it does them justice for a daughter who they have been raising to hide her blog from them, or any other piece of writing for that matter.  But sometimes their reactions really irk me.  They think there are certain thoughts that I shouldn't have written about, things that I shouldn't be sharing with the open cyberspace.  I, on the other hand, do not think I've blogged about anything even near risque.  No one has ever told me that I have either.  Moral of this very-short-story:  a writer can never know what disturbs some people.  People's judgments are too diverse.

This is a problem.  A notably troublesome problem, in my opinion.  Based on me (note that I am not covering every writer out there, just some), I know that writers can be very expressive individuals.  I mean, hell, I'll be one of the most open people you will ever meet.  I don't hide things - not because I don't like to hide things, but because I don't even think about what to hide so everyone just basically knows everything about me.  I have no secrets.  Pretty much all elements of my life are...well, shared.  Does this miff people?  Sure it does.  But am I supposed to care about ruffling people's nerves so much to the point of holding myself back?  Movies like Julie and Julia are what worry me - the main character, Julie, was afraid that her idol, Julia Child, didn't appreciate her - possibly because she mentioned the word, "fuck," too many times in her blog.  I mean, my everyday choice of vocabulary does not include words such as, "fuck," but the situation is relevant.

Also, speaking of expressive, I am often excessively expressive on the internet.  When I tweet or IM, I tend to use lots of punctuation marks and varied lower-/uppercase letters.  It doesn't even matter that it's a subconscious habit because I will often communicate the wrong message.  For instance, I was chatting with one of my best friends on IM today.  He thought that I was getting angry at him because I commenced my usage of uppercase letters and "?!" marks.  I had no intention of getting mad at him whatsoever! (See?  There goes that exclamation mark.)

I'm sure virtually all writers know about this risk - that the intended audience can often be very different from the actual audience, and thus, messages have the potential to be altered in the most unintended and unnerving manners.  And I'm sure I'm just too inexperienced to have honed my skill of filtering my writing.  And, I'm sure that there are plenty of writers out there who really don't care what their audience may think of them.  I'm also quite sure, however, that there are those who are very much like me - those who care about what others may think or how they may react.  What do you do then?  There's just so many perils to being a writer.  Who would want to spend his or her life being one?  Pfft...evidently, me.

Growing up Chinese

It's 1:59 AM as I start to type this blog post.  I'm sitting here still working on the Research Assistant rut that I've taken upon myself to burrow through, during Thanksgiving break, having consumed most of my "resting" days (insert mopey face here).  At first, I was thinking, "Why on Earth do I get myself into these things along with 2390859043 other things that make them turn into annoying inconveniences?"  And then I realized my research would be so much easier if my parents weren't so Chinese.  I know it sounds terrible, but please, allow me to explain.

My research consists of interviewing and recording the interview with 26 Americans. I must fit the criteria to complete the leftover demographically reflective sample with these 26 people: a certain amount of males/females, a certain amount of Republicans/Democrats/Independents, a certain amount of high school education only/college education, a certain amount of young-/middle-/old-aged, and on and on.  Then I have to transcribe the recordings (the interviews last anywhere from 10-90 minutes and it takes three times as long as the actual recording to transcribe it).  Then I have to do all kinds of neat analysis type things with it.  And well, despite the tedious and meticulous work, nothing is quite as difficult as the part where I have to find these 26 people.

It's been over a year since my family has moved to Texas.  This project would've been easy if I could still interview my fellow South Carolinians that I've come to know over the ten years I've lived there but I'm required to do face-to-face, in-person (meaning no Skype) interviews.  But you'd think that one-and-a-half year here in Austin would be enough for my parents to have made enough friends to help me recruit some potential interviewees for my research (since, from what my professor told me, that's how the past Research Assistants worked their connections).  And you know, my parents have made enough friends.  But the problem lies in that they are mostly Chinese people who have recently arrived in the U.S. or have such heavy accents that the interviews with them are often rendered useless and void.  I'm still missing seven more recruits, and I need my entire project done by this coming Wednesday.  I'm in a desperate crunch.

And it's this part of my anxious, running thoughts where I realize that this would all be so much easier if my parents had been, well, more assimilated into the All-American community.  Then, golly gee, I'd have loads of recruits to interview and I would've been done already!  Sad, but true.

Then upon even further revelation, I realized that's how it's been my entire life.  Everything seemed to be a little more difficult for me than my peers (or maybe that's because I grew up mostly in South Carolina so it's warped my perspective, but nonetheless, it's troublesome!).  I mean, don't get me wrong, my parents are fully-functional Americans who have careers - my dad's a professor and my mom works for a big company.  It's just that there's still the cultural and language barrier (I came over to the States at the age of two so we're still pretty Chinese despite my own super Americanized-ness).  It was always weird trying to get my parents to socialize with other parents at any given high school occasion.  In fact, I was this lone butterfly for a while because from where I came from, the parents of the kids who were best friends were also best friends.  Not only that, often in academics and extracurriculars, my parents couldn't help me like other parents did.  In the areas where I saw other parents helping my peers with their school projects or talking teachers into playing favorites, I worked hard to accomplish what I have, on my own.  I mean, I was never mad at dearest father and mother.  How could I have been?  My parents are truly the most supportive and encouraging parents anyone could ever have.  Though honestly, I've kind of always felt like I was on my own, and it's kind of lonely sometimes (or rather, often times).

But somehow, I'm so thankful (no, I did not prepare this blog post for Thanksgiving, though I feel like I should have). For all of it.  For all this independence I was forced into.  I can veraciously say that my independence is unlike any other independence.  Because I can do things on my own...but I've always had the encouragement waiting for me when I turn around, and a shoulder to cry on for the colossal number of failures I've encountered as a consequence of this forced independence.  And it's made me more aware - more aware that I'm, in fact, not the only one - that there may be another just like me, going through all the trials they have to, just because they're different.

In the end, I must say that growing up Chinese has made me recognize my strength - that I'm stronger than I normally take myself to be.  But most of all, it's made me recognize that there are other individuals out there who are just as beautifully strong.  And some of them don't realize it yet.  So, I'm going to take it upon myself to help them see it.

I'm thankful that I get to be a spoiled brat.

Okay, so most people who see the title to this blog post will say, "You don't act like a spoiled brat."  False.  Ask any of my roommates and they'll tell you how I sound when I'm on the phone with my parents.

I don't really know why they put up with me.  I'm kind of a terrible child; I'm really demanding.  I've been in self-denial about it for a while now, thinking that I'm the perfect little daughter.  Well, not so.  Certainly not so.  So I'm really thankful for them, basically.

Oh, and I'm thankful for my (few) close friends that put up with me. Because I start to act really bratty and demanding to those who get closer to me.  Heh, apologies!  Sincerely!  I'm working on it though.  And honestly, I think I've made quite a bit of excellent progress.  I don't think any of my close friends since college have really seen much of this side of me (sorry, Dorothy, for making you the sole sufferer of the Crystal Zhao wrath).  Though if it does come out, again and in advance, I am very truly sorry!

And most of all, I'm thankful for Thanksgiving mainly because I finally get to go all out for Christmas!  I mean, not that I haven't been leaking my Christmas spirit yet, because I most definitely have.  But this time, I really do get to bug people up and down and side to side with all of my merry tidings!  I'm rather excited.

And finally, another new reason to be thankful - I logged onto my blog today and was welcomed by two very comforting comments.  That made my Thanksgiving all the more fuzzy and warmer :).  Thank you to the two of you (you know who you are) for taking the time to read my (sometimes the very opposite of optimistic) thoughts and responding to them.  That was truly amazing.

Speaking of some of my thoughts being the very opposite of optimistic, I've decided that I need to remodel (or re-theme) my blog.  It will be changed soon.  I officially pronounce my blog Under Construction until further notice (and this further notice would probably be very short since I am currently undertaking the editing right now).

Cheers and Happy Thanksgiving to all!

I hate small spoonfuls of peanut butter. And I hate losing myself even more.

Winter's a-comin'. It's time for the winter blues.  Or rather, it's time for a hot-button issue that my friend and I have been discussing lately - I'm experiencing the onset of my speculated seasonal affective disorder (SAD).

But that's only part of it; my SAD is just an attention-grabber for this blog post.

What's really been bugging me lately is how much I feel like I've lost myself.  It might be the stress and worry I've been experiencing.  My fleeting thoughts are a part of  my recently-diagnosed ADHD and anxiety.  Regardless of the reasons, I can't seem to manipulate my mind onto the path it used to be on.

I'm an idealist, I always have been.  But lately, I've been less so, much less so.  I feel like I was more passionate about everything I did prior to this semester.  I suppose you could say that I was more exuberant and vivacious...more thoughtful as well.  I had more insight and more intuition for the way I want to live my life, my picture-perfect life (however, admittedly, with flaws - I'm not that idealistic).  But lately, there's been less depth in my introspection, if any at all (obviously, since I haven't updated my blog in forever).

My psychologist told me it's because I'm like a spoonful of peanut butter.  If I only had one slice of bread, I would sufficiently cover its surface.  But since it seems like I have several slices of bread, I'm hardly covering any surface at all.  I asked him, "Well, isn't that kind of the case with everyone?"  He responded with a nod, "Yes."  But then goes on to say, "Though only to an extent. You're a smaller spoonful of peanut butter."  I'm sure he didn't mean to make me sound inferior, but I sure felt more inferior!  What is so wrong with me that I couldn't be a larger spoonful of peanut butter?

He says there's nothing wrong with me, that I just have a deficit.  But to me, that deficit is worse than anything in the world.  Why?  Because I feel like I'm losing myself.  Though I've always prided myself in my careless goofiness, I prided myself in my ability to soul-search even more.  There hasn't really been any of that lately.  My "know thyself" development has come to a halt.  I feel so...shallow.

And shallowness is absolutely unacceptable to me.  In fact, I hate when people think I'm stupid or naive just because I like to be a jolly, energetic ball of cheer and laughter.  I hate when people think I'm incapable or not enough of a hard worker just because they take me solely at face value, not allowing themselves to really get to know me.  I hate being underestimated.  But I hate it all because I've always secretly acknowledged that I am shallow.  I'm shallow because when I decide to spread myself onto too many slices of bread, inadequacy results.  And yet, I insist on grabbing more bread, searching every corner for just one more slice.

And thus, my relentless accumulation of slices of bread induces me to lose myself.  It's kind of an agonizing process.  And that's really where my thoughts end.  I have nothing further to say about my current introspection.  Because I can't, because I'm shallow, because I'm worrying about too many slices of bread.  And I apologize for such an abrupt end.

What problem? I don't have a problem.

Whatever quality of your own that you're most afraid of is what you hate in other people.  It's a vicious concept, however true.  Think about it, I know it applies to you.

I am not fond of slackers because I'm scared that I'm a procrastinator.  I am not fond of people who are late because I'm scared when I'm late.  I am not fond of those dependent on others because I'm scared to be alone myself.  I am not fond of those who do absolutely nothing because I'm scared that that's what I secretly want to be like.

It's really funny how our brains work...how naturally hypocritical we are.  It's something that's so hard to fight against.  I hate hypocrites because I am scared to admit that I am one.  Scary thought, huh?

My handwriting analysis says I'm spontaneous

After reading an article of Marilyn Monroe's inner turmoil based on an analysis of her handwriting in her private diaries, I was a little curious about what my own handwriting had to say about myself (though not neccessarily my inner turmoil!  Preferably not, actually.).

I took two online handwriting analysis tests.  The results didn't surprise me, not at all, really.

3SmartCubes said:
"Crystal, your handwriting reveals that you are an extrovert and spontaneous.
You need a lot of space, unwilling to concentrate or confine your energies on the small details of life.  You're quick in your responses and possess spontaneity."
       Hmm...let's see.  I'm claustrophobic, I'm ADD, and I'm messy - sounds like the the second sentence of the analysis.  As for the rest, I really do usually speak my mind when I feel like it (luckily, however, I normally don't say anything too offensive).

Feedbucket says:
"You plan ahead, and are interested in beauty, design, outward appearance, and symmetry."
       Quite right; my planner is my life and I am a little vain in my appearance I must admit.
"You are a shy, idealistic person who does not find it easy to have relationships, especially intimate ones."
       How accurate this is!  I'm very shy when it comes to having close friends (refer to my last blog post).  It takes me forever to feel comfortable with being close to someone - and it's probably why I run away everytime someone shows interest in me (hence, no super close friends in Texas yet and no boyfriend).
"You are diplomatic, objective, and live in the present."
       Self-explanatory, and basically true.
"You are not very reserved, impatient, self-confident and fond of action."
       I'm restless.  I hate to wait on people, I hate slow people.  I am confident often times to the point of being secretly (and even unconsciously) vain.  And, I'm extremely loud and boisterous.  Oh, and did I mention that despite me not being obvious about it, I do like attention?
"You enjoy life in your own way and do not depend on the opinions of others."
       This is true to a certain extent.  I value what other people think of me, deeply rather.  But it's true that I don't depend on what others think of me - I always end up doing whatever the hell I want anyway.

It amuses me, very much indeed, how your handwriting can say so much about you!

Home sweet home?

Here are some of the places I've lived in before:  China, Canada, Michigan, South Carolina, and finally Texas.
I've got three citizenships:  China, Canada, America.
I'd take myself to be well-traveled, or rather, lived.

But it's a never-ending flight consuming every corner of my life.
And it sucks.

And right now, I don't feel like I have a home.  I overheard a guy in the elevator saying, "Yeah and it felt so good to be in that queen-sized bed in my own house," and I got sad.  I have a queen-sized bed at "home" but it doesn't feel like mine, I never feel settled like that.  I don't get the feeling this guy gets everytime he goes home.  In fact, I don't even go home to a house of my family's right now.  Hell, I don't even go home to a house at all.  My family's stuck in a temporary apartment for a damn long temporary time.  Our two houses in SC are still not sold.  We still have boxes sitting around in our apartment, unopened.  The furniture from our big house is crowding up the apartment - I get bruises from bumping into things all the time.  And of course, my dorm is no home to me either.  I have none.  And I feel eternally unsettled.

Furthermore, I was never the type of girl to be a part of a clique.  Instead, I socialized with everyone and hung out with everyone - some more often than others but that didn't matter.  It was always difficult for me to get situated with a group of friends I was comfortable with.  And in the last few years of my ten-year stay in SC, I finally found a few friends that I felt connected to.  And then I left for Texas.  And now, I'm going through the same problem again.  Where are the best friends that I belong with here?  (I miss you tons, Dorothy.)

Maybe that's why I've become so restless and so anxious when I'm idle and not busy.  Maybe I'm trying too hard to hide my loneliness from myself (talk about Lone Star state!).  I can't have breaks, I'm a closet deep-thought junkie, like now.  The reason why I act so damn independent is probably because I'm afraid to get attached to any one thing or person.  I'd end up leaving like I always do, or whatever I get attached to will disappear from my life at a moment's notice.

So I keep scheduling infinite meetings, appointments, commitments.  And overloading myself with extra work on top of additional work - none ever getting done extraordinarily well because I'm too busy finding even more tasks to do.  And I keep trying to lose touch with everything and everyone around me, even myself.  And because of this, I never know what I truly value.

I just know that I have no real home, and it makes me kind of sad.  But, I suppose I at least know that I can adapt to a changed environment quite readily :).

Hanging out and Junior Prom photos in my old home in South Carolina:

Those writing teachers...

Referring to a past post, Primary and secondary education can be so misleading, there's more that I want to add to it.  And this time it's a word from my fabulously genius professor of my History of Rhetoric class.

This is what she says about teachers teaching us senseless writing:

Advice on Writing

By Trish Roberts-Miller

Much advice on writing that you've been given is lore—that is, it is passed down from teacher to students (who go on to become teachers repeating the same lore) without being checked against reality. When people started doing real research on how people actually write, they found that effective writers break a lot of the rules that lore hands down. This discrepancy between the advice that teachers give and the practices that actually work puts students in several binds.

First, teachers sometimes require students to do things that are actively harmful to the effectiveness of a paper (e.g., requiring that the introduction end with a thesis—most teachers are perfectly satisfied with a thesis question or hypo-thesis). Second, teachers often mis-describe their own standards. So, for example, teachers say that correctness is tremendously important to them, but study after study shows that quality of argument is actually much more important than grammatical correctness (what happens is that readers don't notice errors in well-argued texts).

My advice on writing is grounded in what practices actually work for writers, so it may contradict much of what you have been told, but my point is that much of what you have been told is not very helpful. While the following is written with our paper assignments in mind, my hope is that it will be helpful in lots of writing situations you face. The short version is: when it comes to writing, be flexible in your writing processes, start early, make sure you understand your rhetorical situation, and set reasonable expectations...

Click here to read her entire post.

I have no shame.

I have really bad hearing. I'll ask you to repeat what you said about...2-4 times on average, sometimes more. And I have no shame.

If you're a waiter, I'll wave you down or call out your name (politely, of course) from afar rather than wait until you wander by. And I have no shame.

When I'm after an issue of pressing concern, I'll text, message, call, or email you persistently to get a response. And I have no shame.

I have no shame in doing what is necessary. I believe in using your guts that way - it makes the world more efficient.

I find it funny how often times we have such big guts to pursue far-reaching opportunities but we won't muster up the little boldness that it takes to save a few seconds from all the wasted time in the world. And it's not even all about efficiency; it's about all the other little chances that we miss. You know, like in movies, there's often someone who hears only part of a message and misses out on another crucial piece of it that leads to a devastating consequence - like a lost love or a war that could've been prevented. If only the message were repeated, in its clear entirety, would results have been so much more positive.

Maybe it's just a tragic human flaw. That we're scared to get what we want immediately because the concept of instant gratification (or satisfaction) on demand is associated with cruelty and greed. Or that we're scared to call too much open attention to ourselves and risk looking like fools. Whatever the underlying reason may be, we're scared, scared silly - plain and simple. And why are we scared so silly? I feel like we shouldn't be so reluctant to ask for something, with firmness (but without mischief). I think John Locke really must have hit something when he said that self-interest v. self-interest is an excellent option - because if we weren't so afraid to be bold, then the world could be so much more efficient...and productive.

Dysfunctional me: pushing it to the limit

At first glance, I seem like your average play-it-safe college girl who always makes sure she gets everything done in time.  In fact, I am your average play-it-safe college girl with a predictable routine (okay, maybe not, my schedule is a little sporadic but you get the point).  But what a lot of people don't realize is that I have a terribly unhealthy habit.  I tend to really like to be on the brink of disasters and I always push it to that limit.

There are countless things in which I like to sprint until just before I fall off the edge.  Like how much longer can I run without my legs turning completely into jello or how many more repetitions and sets of weights I can do before my muscles cramp up.  And like how little sleep I can get on with and how many cups of coffee/energy drinks I can consume before my heart gives out.  And even how many extracurricular responsibilities I can possibly take on until my GPA suffers just enough.  Also, unfortunately, how long can I go without spending money or how much money I can blow in one internet-shopping sitting.  And most recently, how many more abundances of textured, whole foods I can eat to make sure my wisdom-teeth wounds take as long as possible to heal.

It's funny.  People like to think that I am on top of everything, that I'm doing myself well.  But the truth is, I really don't treat myself well.  I sabotage me over, and over, and over...again, and again, and again.  I don't know what moves me to do this - I don't know the rationale behind any of it.  And I know I need to fix myself because it's not good for me at all (in fact, I've been suffering from major hair loss lately, plenty more than I have lost ever before).

It's like I'm just so unsure of everything.  And maybe that is the reason behind all of my passion for extremities.  To me, it seems like nothing will ever stay put - something will happen; I will leave or someone else will leave.  And I just keep flying not wanting to be idle, not wanting to think about anything because I'm just so terrified.  And now that I am patiently typing this out little by little, I realize that my constant need to run just might be real.  For example, whenever I get close to someone, I pull away immediately.  It's like I feel suffocated or even too safe - like I've put myself on the edge so much that I feel uncomfortable with stability.  And it's probably because I know that even stability will collapse.  The things that you've once been leaning on just, BOOM, falls apart, leaving you with absolutely nothing, forcing you to fall down.

So I run.  I keep fleeing.  I don't want to depend on anything or anyone, I don't want to get attached to anything at all in this world.  Because in the end, I know I'm really all that I have to depend on.  I'll be my own fortress, strong, tall, and invincible - so invincible that I'll do anything to see if I will fall in the end.

And someone has yet to prove me wrong.

Would you rather: have many friends or a few close friends?

That's the age-old question, isn't it?

The selfish, greedy part of me wants to say it's better to have many friends.  The realistic me wants to say the latter.  Allow me to explain why.

Picture credit to Futureofrealestatemarketing.com

     I consider myself a very career-oriented girl despite the fact that I just turned 19 and am only going into my second-year of college.  And though getting to know more people has always been one of my genuine desires, I do believe that everyone can benefit from doing this.  It's a terrific way to show more people what you're capable of (of course, if you aren't inclined to try to be a motivated worker, then networking may be useless after all).
     I've been taken summer courses with older students almost done with school, some reaching into their late 20s.  They keep telling me cool stories about all these people they know - for example, a friend of one of them married the actor Seth Greene.  I keep thinking, "Wow, I wish I had more cool friends like that!"  But the thing is, they're all older than me and I'm so young.  It finally hit me that the older I grow, the more "cool" things people I know (or even myself!) will wind up doing.  And one day, the perks of knowing someone "cool" will come to you.  But how many people actually reach this high status?  I can't imagine too many - so get to know more people :).
     My friend Kasey recommended a book to me, called Never Eat Alone by Keith Ferrazzi.  His most important point on networking is that it's "a constant process of giving and receiving -- of asking for and offering help.  By putting people in contact with one another, by giving your time and expertise and sharing them freely, the pie gets bigger for everyone." (Note:  networking is not a selfish thing, it is a mutually beneficial type of thing.)  I'm a fiercely adamant believer in this and I take myself to be a networker-in-training.

Picture credit to Examiner.com

     On the other hand, it's a basic human survival need to have a few close, loyal friends to get you through whatever it is you need to get through.  You know, that girl who goes swimsuit-finding with you who's honest enough to tell you that there may be one in which you look horrifying in.  Or the other one who'll willingly leave her home at some insane hour to meet up with you and chat if you've gone through an emotionally-damaging episode.  And of course, the one who won't cancel lunch with you just because it's raining (of course you have to hold up on your end on this one, too).

     Like my best friend Dorothy, for example.  She's halfway across the country from me and we don't always talk that regularly - but we do talk consistently.  There's the sporadic phone calls, Skype sessions, Facebook, and even emails (I know, what best friends use the latter two anyway? Haha).  I know that she's someone for me to fall back on no matter what because we are just that close.  And I'd be a scared little girl without knowing that she's here for me.
     I think having all this is crucial to the human life; we'd all be dead, bitter souls otherwise (like those work-acholic networkers).  We, as emotionally advanced beings, thrive on this support.  These few, close friends fill in the gaps of our lives.  Like I once read some where, it's like "picking up a book and knowing where you left off."  And when I think back on it, I can't imagine what those times when I've drowned the entire night away in my tears would be like without my close friends comforting me.

Wait, did I just call myself a networker and admit to having close friends?  Hm, I think I did.
This is the part where I render the entire deliberation of the initial question invalid.  I don't think I really believe in would-you-rather questions; I think they're irrationally  two-sided.  You can still have your many friends along with your close friends.  So, did I just elaborate on all those benefits of both sides for naught?  No, I don't really think so.  I think in order for anyone to really utilize both extremes of the above would-you-rather question is to really understand and acknowledge the benefits of each - or else both will be half-assed (excuse my French) and you wouldn't really get anything out of either.

It's okay to refuse to settle.

I hate it when people tell me to "calm down," "take it easy," or "you don't need to work so hard."  It frustrates me and I don't want to comply.  But I admit that I have, on many occasions, given in to this negative peer pressure.  At least when I don't surround myself with other more industrious people.

Before, I used to think that maybe I was spreading myself a little too thin for naught.  Then I'd go take a break and go run along with my "friends" (that aren't so much friends anymore).  And every time I'd give in, I'd get this horrific at-the-pit-of-my-stomach kind of feeling later.  I regretted it.  I felt guilty.  I hated myself.  And now I wish I did spread myself even thinner.

I like to talk with people that strive for more.  I like it because I find someone that I can identify with or look up to.  It makes me feel better that there are people in this world who don't try to keep me down.  Not to mention, I'm a very people-oriented person and I let people influence me, even if it's just a tad (unless I just downright don't have anything in common with them).  I know I always have to be on the look-out because of this.  I think this is why I've withdrawn myself from people in my personal life this summer.  I've kept all connections and relationships at bay, at a distance - a distance in which they cannot affect me in most manners (except I trying to imitate their good qualities).  During the last Fall and Spring semesters, I'd always have to study with someone.  For the Summer semester, I've been all alone, and I love it.  I can feed off of my own ever-whirring energy.

I've learned that it's okay to push yourself to the limit and only take a break when you're really burned-out.  Maybe most of the other people don't agree with me but they're not the ones that should be defining my life.  I will be defining my life from now on - just me, solely me.  And I will do it in a way in which I won't have to feel that horrific at-the-pit-of-my-stomach kind of feeling.

Funny how adversity works in an environment lacking diversity

I really do suppose you never know what you're missing out on until you experience it.  What I'm about to blog here is going to sound like a complaint against South Carolina, so you've got to know now that the palmetto state is still the charming state that's so dear to me and will forever be in my heart. (Not to mention, I miss all of you great people so absolutely terribly!)

The reluctance.
Firstly, I love Texas, I really do.  I had some serious qualms about coming here at first.  My friends knew how adamant I was about staying in South Carolina, but my parents wouldn't budge.  So, Texas it was.

I can't really say that it was an easy adjustment.  I came to Austin, TX - somewhere far, far different from the good ol' conservative sweet Carolina.  Everything kind of just hit me hard at first; there was way too much to take in and my head spun in a whirlwind.

Well, after a year, everything's been rather marvelous.  And it turns out, I don't think I was ever meant to stay in the palmetto state.  I've encountered so many amazing opportunities and gained so much more insight - all of which would have been absent if I had never come crawling into Texas.  But the thing is, all of these great things presented themselves to me only because I told them to "come hither."


I wasn't always a hard worker; that side of me came later in my juvenile life.  I remember that in the earliest days of my life in Michigan, I was just a wild little girl who would ride her bike with her roller blades on and then just jump off and start rolling away.  I wouldn't dare touch a book or even a pencil, rather.  And even now, some of those tendencies come out - contrary to popular belief (at least for those around me), I have to control myself aggressively and unyieldingly to hone in my diligence and responsibility.  So what made me so fervently determined to be successful?

The revelation.
The discrimination in South Carolina.  It wasn't a loud, blatantly obvious discrimination.  It was the more subtle kind, basically the denouncing glances I would get from both white strangers and black strangers (ironic, huh?).  Often, the only time a person didn't shoot me a superior look was after they had gotten to know me (and now, I'm still getting adjusted to the positive attention I'm getting in Texas that I feel so uncomfortable with).  The thing is, I never wanted to notice this repressiveness, I only allowed myself to be scarcely aware of it (because I'm the type of person who likes to believe in the good of everybody).  Instead, I'd redirect my energy into putting myself into as many of high school's spheres of influence as possible - marching band, student council, various leadership/service organizations, pageants.  I've done it all and God knows what else.  I've never let it known that I felt suppressed growing up in such a beautifully charming state (until now, that is, and I feel like I'm baring my soul as I am typing this).  I suppose you can say I almost imperceptibly felt the need to get myself out there and put on the most respected image possible for all the people of my own ethnicity. This is where my commitment, perseverance, and ambition comes from.

The reality.
Now, however, I have decided that Asians just aren't fully accepted in that region. I have finally become open to facing the hard reality.  And I am so thankful for having been trampled and stifled because I have learned how to dig myself out of all debris on the top of many restrictive holes that I find myself in.  It's funny how this adversity from lack of diversity can really make a person better than they would have been if he/she hadn't been forced out of the comfort zone.  And now I'm just so happy in Texas, I feel so exhilarated to be able to utilize these skills I've acquired in such an uncompromising environment (though I still have yet to learn even more skills).

The side note.
Lastly, to all those South Carolinian friends who end up reading this:  Don't tell me that the discrimination doesn't exist because we all know it does.  I don't mean this in a rude way, but you've got to admit that it's a matter of truth.  But I still love you all, unquestionably so :).

Running away from the glitzy life

I'm inspired to write this as I look at the section of my wardrobe that I haven't really touched since college started.  I see cheetah, snake skin, metallic lace, embellishments of both rhinestone and hardware.

Ooh and the shoes...once upon a time I was into metallics and stilettos and studded pumps.  And I bought at least three pairs of shoes each month.  Obsession?  Very much so.

Not to mention I was obsessed with all these different types of anti-aging creams (thanks to mother) and made a trip to buy make-up ever so quite often.

When did I become so afraid of these things?

I've resorted to wearing the more conservative of my closet; full of cottons, linens, delicate lace, and delicate silk.  Shoes have taken a step down on the glamour scale as well.  Make-up?  I only replenish as needed  Any new additions to my possessions are all equally conservative.

When did I shy away from it all?
I don't really know.

Was it because my family started to struggle financially due to our sudden up-and-off to Texas?  Or am I just horrified of getting the wrong type of attention from guys?  Or do I not have as much time to think about my outfits?  It could be a little of all those and more.

But what I really want to ask myself is, "Why are you so afraid to disregard all of that and just be you?" (aside from the financial trouble, that is.)  I never touch that side of my closet anymore.  Hell, I've shuffled through it maybe once or twice all year.  I've always been a firm believer in just being yourself, restrained if the social setting need be, but always be bursting of your own personality, let the world see who you are.  But the hypocrite that I am!  I look at clothing while browsing online and in malls, gazing longingly, wondering why I don't have the motivation to buy anything as impulsively as I would have before.  It could be that I have matured and don't go blowing my money like before - but I do blow my money, on restaurants and going out to eat instead.  I once sacrificed tasty meals outside of my home in order to buy glitzy and flashy (but not show-y!) apparel, but that is no more.  So it's just got to be me not being comfortable with myself.

I started to type this blog post in order to resolve it all but I am stalled, reluctant to point my finger at the one glaringly obvious reason as to why I've strayed away from pursuing a glitzy life.  I hate being underestimated.  I hate people thinking I'm not capable and I hate that I think I'm not capable.  I feel like I need to dress more "serious" in order to gain the brownie points that I think I should deserve.  I've never been a student who much cared for taking into heart learning anything I wasn't interested in.  In fact, I would sit there, stare, read my textbook/notes over and over again for hours and not gain a bit of knowledge.  This was the case for two of my classes last semester (my sincerest gratitudes to required liberal arts introductory courses, not.).  My GPA dipped, and I know that's one little number that has long-range consequences.  So whenever I applied for anything or told someone what my GPA is (not that it's actually that low but when you're trying for something very competitive, it's a whole 'nother ball game), I panicked and was downright terrified of judgment.  But once I started taking my upper-division, major-pertaining courses this summer, my grades shot up with, what I think, a lot less time and effort.  I slowly started to realize that I've got a few more years in college and a lot more opportunities for grades.  But the horror of telling people my GPA is still ingrained in my mind and that was how I was taught to measure success my entire life.

It's funny how me "running away from the glitzy life" all stems from my fear of being underestimated for not having a near-perfect GPA. Life's such a baffling thing.  And I suppose I shall just continue un-baffling it.

Politicians are evil?

I am long overdue for a new blog post.  Summer school turned out to be more hectic than I had expected.

On another note, this post will be about my potential future occupation, as a politician that is.  It's funny because I kind of always wanted to but was never sure if I would pursue such a thing outside of any kind of student government.  But my parents actually truly believe that I "will be famous one day so a name with an easier pronunciation is necessary."  They even made me sign papers the other night changing Crystal to my first name and changing my original Chinese first name into my middle name.  Thank you mother and father for forever looking out for my future, even in the most unexpected ways.

"I've got the greatest job in the world.  There's no other job in government where cause and effect is so tightly coupled where you can make a difference every day in so many different ways and in so many different people's lives.  It's a great challenge."  -Michael Bloomberg, mayor of NYC 

Before you say anything about how he's the 8th richest person in the country or how he changed NY law to be able to run for a third-term, or even just the fact that he's a politician using his rhetoric to better his image - the quote above is truth.  My professor in my government class, The American President, was lecturing about how support for presidents usually results in their better performance because they're encouraged by the American people and are consequently more confident and clear-minded about anything they implement.  He started talking about how support was crucial because people drawn to these kinds of careers are what we call "people persons."  Their successes and achievements often feed off of the energy that is derived from other people's approval.  They're extremely social beings and they need public acceptance.  That's when a light bulb went off in my head.

The lecture resonated with me.  I realized that I was always drawn to student government elections in high school and now the student government in college because that's exactly who I am, a "people person."  I feel my best when people praise me and are appreciative of me, and I tend to get horribly discouraged when someone criticizes me, particularly in a harsh manner.  I do more things to help other people than myself because I have this natural affinity to make people happy.  And though many people's views may differ from mine, I think politicians are, at the core, genuinely good people with good intentions.  I'm not surprised if a lot of them turn to some corruption because the political world is an unforgivingly trying arena full of trials, threats, and risks.  But I am a believer (or as some people may say, too much of an optimist) that when they are governing the people of the United States, they are using their best judgments on what is best for their constituents that they are accountable to.  I actually rather absolutely hate it, and it appalls me, when people say that politicians are evil or that they are just rich, powerful elites who don't give a care in the world about the average middle-class or working-class citizens.  I don't really think that's true.  They're "people persons" and they work to strive for your happiness and satisfaction.

Also, my best friend and I got in a mini-debate online, maybe somewhat heated on my part, about the support for Obama.  I, being a political moderate, will really support any President in which I interpret them to be genuinely finding the most efficient and best possible means to administer to the public.  That being said, I am an Obama supporter because I do believe that he's really trying in such tough economic times as these.  But my best friend, like most die-hard South Carolinian Republicans, pretty much does not approve of him. And I don't really blame her because surveys show that people have high opinions of a President's success given that the President follows their ideological beliefs.  So basically, no president can ever satisfy all of America's individuals.  Though this led me to think, it doesn't really matter if we approve of the President or not, does it?    I think what the American public really should do is be constructively (rather than destructively) critical to Obama and support him for future endeavors, or any president really.  He's not evil, he's not a bad person - he's just faced with enormous pressures that would make anybody's head spin.  Would you do any better?

Hope for the best and have a little faith.

Define respect. And we'll see if we get anywhere.

STOP.  I know you're about to use the dictionary.  Unacceptable.  We should all know the definition of "respect" by now.  Do it yourself.

What?  Don't know?

Well, of course!  It's just about a more hackneyed of a word than any.  It was definitely one of the first "Character Words" that school/family/church have been engraving into our heads as soon as we were able to understand concepts.

The most fitting definition, in my context, that Dictionary.com gives:

deference to a right, privilege, privileged position, or someone or something considered to have certain rights or privileges; proper acceptance or courtesy; acknowledgment

I've come to realize respect is the key to all things interpersonal.  And I think the most important form respect of all is self-respect, but I will discuss that at the end.  There are a few other "respects"  I would like to highlight.

Respect for diversity.  This is not only ethnically, religiously, and blahblah-ly.  I'm sure that has been reinforced and advocated enough in America so it does not need any further explanations.  If you are not beyond that point, I am sorry, but, that is a little sad.
I used to think I could change people, for the better.  I would say things along the lines of "Why can't you see if you just put a little more passion into your life, you can do great, amazing, awesome things?!"  (This is because I am an ambitious idealist.  And a perfectionist.  I'm aware that the latter isn't good for me but you can't change me!)  I used to think that a career with prestige, good looks of a god(dess), and a character that so-naturally attracts swarms of people to you were everybody's wants.  I would then embark on all these tasks to almost force people to view the world the way I do, and when they didn't, it frustrated me tremendously (like you don't even know).  For example, I would never understand a girl who wants to be a stay-at-home-mom.  What a horrible condition to be in!  However, that's just me and I'll be the one spending too much money on a nanny.
Another example:  If you watch the TV series Lost, you know that Kate burns her mother's abusive boyfriend's house, killing him.  Then she gives the house's insurance money to her mother.  Her mother still turns her in to the police despite this great criminal act of saintliness.  Why does her mother do this?  "Because you can't help who you love."  But Kate just didn't get it.
Our lives are shaped by our individual experiences.  You can't just make people view the world the way you do - why not try viewing the world how they do?  Why not try to respect this diversity?

Next, self-respect.  This is way too broad of a concept, I'm going to break it down.

1)  Self-respect for your health.  Hello obesity-ridden America!  Why in the world are magazines showing "real girls" by showing overweight ones?!  This is NOT an issue of body image, it's your health for goodness'
 sake!  Please, do your family and friends a favor and do not die at the age of 40.  Also, there is a positive correlation between body image and healthfulness.

2)  Self-respect in your public.  Okay, this isn't only self-respect but it also has to do with respect for others.  And this particular topic can also be taken very superficially.  But you've got to clean yourself up before heading out in public.  Look nice, feel nice.  It's also respect for anyone  you end up approaching that day.  Why do people dress up for work?  To show that they have enough respect for those around them to take the time for a presentable self-presentation.  That would also lead to others respecting you.
Let me give you one very non-seeming example.  In the seventh grade, my friend Stacey invited me to her pool birthday party.  I was feeling lazy the day of her party and simply put on my bathing suit and threw on an old t-shirt with bleached spots.  The next conversation followed:
Mutual friend:  Did you know your shirt was bleached?
Me:  Yeah, but I figured, it's just Stacey's party you know.
(Though I realized what I had said immediately after it came out of my mouth...)
Mutual friend, with detected sarcasm:  Wow, that's so nice of you.
Basically, I just demonstrated my lack of respect for this girl and her birthday party by not looking nice.
I think I just made my case.

Clothes make the man.  -Mark Twain

3)  Self-respect in your relationships.  There are two cases of this:  friendships and romantic relationships.
Once upon a time, I'd buy my friends something rather pricey that they'd wanted for a long time and would be terribly irritated if I received a less-than-marvelous gift back.  But that was me when I didn't have respect for myself in those friendships.  I would give them something nice to gain their appreciation and then expect to be appreciated in return (I still like to feel appreciated though).  But that was a stupid motive.  If I had enough self-respect then, I wouldn't give a care in the world if they gave me a nice, pricey, long-desired gift; I'd be satisfied just giving that present to them and not expect anything in return because I feel sufficient within myself.
Boyfriend/girlfriend relationships are included as well.  I've never had a serious boyfriend and I used to blame myself for being fickle and mean and just downright terrified of commitment (which I kind of am, but that's not the only reason as to why I have been boyfriend-less).  I used to feel smothered in every situation, like the boy was too eager or holding on too hard or something.  And then it hit me one day, maybe it was because they didn't have enough self-respect?  I mean, it would make sense.  They're scared, insecure that I wouldn't be able to stay with them by seeing the good in being with them.  There's no respect for themselves to let them trust me with my own judgment as to whether or not they would make a good potential boyfriend or not.  Lack of confidence and respect = lack of attraction.  Not to mention, being invasive-ly persistent is just creepy.

I'm sure there are so many different respects of "respect" (Haha, pun!  Get it?), like with your parents and educators.  But I think those can all fall under at least in some way in the above categories.  I mean, I can't possibly have them all for you.  I'm 18 going on 19 - I've still got a lot of respect to learn in life, along with everything else.  But this is just my piece of thought for the day :). (Also, I apologize for this abrupt ending.)

Do I run? Do I hide? Do I dare close my eyes?

I listen to this song several times a week. I've been going through this routine for four years now. It keeps me going :).

The looks of skeptics, skeptics that are religious.

I've resumed my weekly church attendance since Spring semester let out.  I haven't gone often during the year - maybe just a random Sunday here and another there.  Not too many people recognized me at first so they ask about me, including my major.  When I tell them I'm a Government major, they shoot me a surprised look, then bouts of skepticism in their countenances...probably on my character or spirituality.
Don't say that I'm being a little to quick on judging - even with my few 18 (almost 19!) years of life, I've come to experience many variations of skeptics' facial expressions (due to the fact I'm one adamant idealist).

One occasion particularly stuck out at me in a Sunday school session.  We were split into small groups and not all of us knew each other.  We all stated our names, occupations, and your major if you were a student.  At the end, we took turns praying in general, for each other if we felt necessary.  This lady started to pray for me asking God to lead me in the right direction (spiritual-wise, not career-wise) as I pursue the field of knowledge that I am pursuing.  Not that I'm being unappreciative - because I did feel good that someone was praying for me and acknowledged my presence and my background - but I realized afterwards that despite the fact there were quite a few students who stated their majors (that weren't Government), I was evidently the only one who needed that prayer.  I didn't really know how to feel about that.

Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but there was also another time something just stuck out.  When I raised my hand to be back-up facilitator (someone who keeps it running smoothly, not a spiritual guidance) for the small group, people also gave me shocked expressions.  I mean, sure, that could be for a million different reasons - because I'm young, a new comer, not the most righteously pious person in the world (though you shouldn't even know that yet), etc.  But why act surprised when I take the initiative?  And maybe even, why doubt me?  I am responsible enough to be a facilitator, I wasn't asked to be your spiritual mentor.

Not to mention another story during the icebreaker.  We all secretly wrote down three things about ourselves and balled up the piece of paper and threw it on the ground.  Each one of us randomly picked one up and read it aloud one-at-a-time.  Everyone had to guess which piece of paper corresponded with who.  One said, "I've drank only lemonade once for seven days to lose weight."  Immediately, everyone looked my way.  Seriously?  Why?  That wasn't even me.  Stop pre-judging.

I admit to being a little defensive, and even too assuming myself.  Though I also must inject that there is at least a little driplet of truth in all this.  And I admit to needing infinite improvements upon my character and spirituality.  But just like me, so does everyone else; you can never be done with self-improvement in any and every aspect of living.

This sounds really incoherent and disorganized, but I suppose what I'm trying to communicate is that don't make me, or anyone else for that matter, feel inadequate when going to church.  Instead, make me feel genuinely welcome in addition to saying, "You're welcome here anytime!  Just let me know if you need anything!" or superficially smiling at me.  I'm young but I often can read people's suppressed, or not so suppressed, thoughts rather well.  I've been a big-time Jesus freak once upon a time in my life so I can say that I have the right to claim I know at least a little about what it's like to be really religious.  You don't need to think I'm unaware of how the spiritual life works because I am.  Do I know or practice it in the best way possible?  No, but nobody does, you're just on a higher level than me (or are you?).

In fact, this is how I gradually extracted myself from church in the first place.  Because once I did something wrong, I immediately got all these lectures and advice on how I should be living life...at the ripe, old middle school age, where I have yet to even really experience life itself.  Maybe the matter(s) is/are more serious than I thought but it doesn't necessarily have to be approached in that intimidating and subtly belittling way.  And I'm still young and I still have yet to make the myriads of life mistakes that I inevitably will be making.  It's just life.  I really genuinely am happy for you if you're better than that and I'm extremely glad that you have your head on straight.  But I'm not better than that, and I don't need to be that clone - I'm me, myself, and I, just another young lady who needs some room to grow.

And that's about all I have to say.  For now anyways :).

Primary and secondary education can be so misleading.

Setting: Lecture hall

Circumstance: Class after the class when we got our papers back.
Dialogue: Student - "The TA told me to include more information about this topic in my paper, but I couldn't! The limit was five pages, there was absolutely no way to have more information! I deserve a higher grade - this is ridiculous!"

No, that wasn't me, but it was a fellow classmate. The case for me is typically, "Crystal, you were very inclusive of all the topics but I wish your writing was longer...surely you could have added something else."

At least that was the case in high school. Thankfully, I no longer receive such remarks in the university setting.

Before I entered college, my teachers (not to say all of them) had always grilled me because my essays or any writing-related work was never lengthy enough. I had to make attempts at dumbing down my responses so that I could incorporate more words and more sentences into a paper. I never really saw the point of that but I assumed that it was how the world worked because that's what I was told to do by a person with higher authority.

Turns out, I was training my brain for a lower level of education than I was at.

Now, my professors are stressing to be short, concise, and to-the-point without extra "fluff" or "cushioning" in attempts to seem more intelligent by making a paper longer. I'm glad to say that as I was retrogressively training my brain, I never lost touch with my ability to communicate complete ideas with few words (I received a 96 on that paper well under the 5-page limit, thank you).

Teachers in primary and secondary education should definitely emphasize length in writing because it does include more information and content, especially in youth. However, it should not be priority for it is most certainly not always the case. Teachers, I urge you, if a student has the capability to summarize thoroughly without many words, allow them to. It's unfair to the student if that skill he or she possesses is not fostered and appreciated. It's terribly and very unfortunately misleading and does not contribute to higher education. The above exclamation of my classmate is something I often hear - and it's just sad.

Like Frederich Nietzsche once said, "It is my ambition to say in ten sentences what others say in a whole book."

What a wise feline!

Alice came to a fork in the road.

“Which road do I take?” she asked.

“Where do you want to go?” responded the Cheshire cat.

“I don’t know,” Alice answered.

“Then,” said the cat, “it doesn’t matter.”

My Personality, part II: I account for 2-5% of the entire population

First, a little introduction, from Wikipedia:

"The Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) assessment is a pyschometric questionnaire designed to measure psychological preferences in how people perceive the world and make decisions. These preferences were extrapolated from the typological theories proposed by Carl Gustav Jung and first published in his 1921 book Psychological Types (English edition, 1923)."

I'm blogging again. Despite the short time-frame since my last post. I am rewarding myself.

It's mysteriously wondrous how my astrological sign coincides with the official career-finding personality test (MBTI).

I am an ENFJ, the "Mentor," and I account for only 2-5% of the population. Pretty rare, huh?

"ENFJs are externally focused, introspective, altruistic, positive and have excellent people skills. They place utmost importance on helping others grow. They are warm and have a natural desire to be supportive and encouraging. Being charismatic and possessing excellent language skills, they do well in leadership roles. ENFJs strive to enhance the lives of their human brethren." -MyPersonality.info

And I do have bragging rights, thank you...some famous ENFJs include but are not limited to: Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King, Jr., Ronald Reagan, and Barack Obama :).

Well, now that you know all about me, I hope you go and find out more about yourself as well! And then, you'll know what your downfalls are and improve upon them - suppress that part of yourself. :)

P.S. One part of my personality description says I am intuitive to the point of knowing whether you're being fake or genuine, telling a truth or telling a lie - so watch out. And if I can't tell you're lying and you are...then wow, you must be a horribly bad person to have mastered the art of lying so skillfully.

On priorities...and being a lion.

By the time I am typing this, I already have a jotted list of six topics to blog about. Ever since summer school started, I have lost time - a tremendous bundle of time indeed! And there is absolutely no way I am going to, nor possibly could find enough sacrificial time, to blog all six right here right now.

Realistically, I should be studying for my exam and reading-dense course. But I once read a marvelous blog by the great Penelope Trunk's Brazen Careerist saying that even the busiest of all people make time to blog. Thus, despite others' opinions, I am making this my number one priority at the moment. Then this thought hits me: I've looked down upon people putting other things before school...how horrible of me!! Because here I am doing the exact same thing - but I don't think it's bad, because blogging is a priority for me. It made me realize people just value different things and it doesn't make them any more or any less of a worthy individual. My priorities are mine, and your priorities are yours.

It's just 30-60 minutes to spare, really - looking up and compiling personality articles then going back to edit this to make sure it's substantially sufficient (I mean, we would all spend an hour procrastinating anyway, right?).

Basically, I just wanted to express my thoughts on how astounding it is that the astrological zodiac personality profiles, as my best friend puts it, "just nails you on the head!" Brace yourself. This is going to be one LONG blog about myself - a Leo, a lion.

According to the sources listed at the bottom of this entry:

Already, superficial qualities are more or less pinpointed:

-"...athletic and energetic...Many look a bit like lions, with smooth cheekbones, large faces, thick wavy hair and catlike eyes...[With] a tendency to put on excess weight due to overindulgence. Most Leos eat and drink too much."

The first and last parts are especially true. That's why I run constantly to keep from gaining weight.

At my best:

At my worst:

Sources:

How Stuff Works, Mystical Blaze, Erupting Mind, Suite101.com

Too democratic? Possibly.

We're reading this book in one of the courses I'm taking this summer. It's so insightfully provocative (and undoubtedly, some of my friends would have strong things to say to this author).

But it's amazing. It gives a rather disturbing reason as to why American government, specifically the Legislative Branch, is not functioning as smoothly and not serving the Americans to its full potential.

Congress has been trying to reform itself to satisfy the American hunger for more democratic-ness. But all that effort has turned out to have terrible unintended consequences. Let me try to explain what Fareed Zakaria has so expertly done so. Though I really cannot communicate anything nearly as well so I strongly advise you to read this enlightening and endearing book.

Let's take his example of election campaign funding reforms. Previously, extremely wealthy individuals were able to contribute large sums of money (millions even) to their preferred candidates for the campaigns. Now the limit is set to $1,000 per American's donation and $5,000 of contribution from political parties. Not even for the ever-evil and unfair PACs could exceed $5,000 donations. Thus, instead of candidates putting effort into campaigning with promises of more substance and quality - they are running around trying to impress the broad interests of the American masses in order to fund-raise and secure spending money.

Another example - lobbyists and interest groups. Yes, you're right, they serve the people's interests to have laws passed in their favor. But guess what? There's way too many interests and way too many people - and the government, under no circumstances, can satisfy all these wants efficiently. People are constantly complaining about the allocation of funds and how the government is spending too much money. Well, that's because money are spent on pointless things (such as asparagus competition, yes this is real). But why do Congressmen vote to fulfill these pointless and non-beneficial wishes? Because if they don't, a lobbyist or interest group member will immediately phone supporters and have them bombard the Representative with phone calls, emails, and faxes in a matter of seconds.

STOP PLACING BLAME ON OUR POLITICIANS. Much of the blame is to be put on US! We're too selfish and we want Congress to fulfill our every want. These individuals have to satisfy us so that they can receive our votes despite inefficiency. Their work is spread out too much and progress cannot be made as a consequence. Government functioned more competently back when deliberations were allowed to be made behind closed doors and not every Representative's vote was recorded next to their name for the public to see. FDR was able to implement the New Deal because he was able to cut off dumb, useless funding for things like asparagus (I keep using this one example because it portrays the ridiculousness of certain allocations of funding but there are MANY, MANY more just like it) to use the money to actually help the greater good of America rather than on pluralistically minuscule purposes. We need to stop fighting for ourselves as an individual but instead start to support our elected Congressmen by fighting for ourselves as a collective body of American citizens.

Oh, and stop hating on the President. Thanks.

Nutty Bars are so full of wisdom

I bought Nutty Bars from the grocery store today. Delicious, yes? Mhm!

As usual, I am a peculiar little lady and I have a need to read the boxes of my food comprehensively as I chew.

I read on the back of the box:

"Enter Online For Your Chance to Win!

www.littledebbie.com

[insert airplane picture here]

Celebrating 50 years of great taste and value!

Enter "The Great American Getaway," and you could win...2 roundtrips to any AirTran Airways destination in the continental United States, and a $200 cash card..."

What?! Seriously...? It's "The Great American Getaway" and we only get a $200 cash card with our roundtrips? What a rip-off! Okay, pause, before you say, "My, my! Crystal! What a spoiled little child you are; some people would really appreciate this" - I must defend myself by stating that I am not spoiled (thank you) and I do realize that this would come especially handy for college students such as myself...or any other average American. And YES, I do have another point I want to make.

I kept thinking to myself, would it be worth it to enter? I mean...what can you really do with $200? And then I bring myself back to the age-old saying quoted by many, many heroic figures, "Your living is determined not so much by what life brings to you as by what you bring to life." Ah, yes...

We Americans can find it rather easy to blow $200, especially on vacation. If we win this sweepstakes by Little Debbie, life has given us $200. We would go out to eat, buy some cool souvenirs, grab some Italian ice on that cart nearby...the money could disappear in a day and then we don't have enough! But why? Why should we spend it on something as trivial as food? Of course we need nourishment but why not just go to the local grocery store and get some cheap food there? Why can't we find more delightful and tantalizing ways to spend the money? Let's bring something to life through the money - even if selfishly! Look up some odd attractions to where you visit - spend your money there. Do something more fulfilling and whimsical. It will certainly be more fulfilling than food, at least in the long run. If you do something like this, then the little $200 can go a loooong way.

And so, upon this thought, I decided to enter the sweepstakes. I pull up www.littledebbie.com...and I see the sweepstakes ended in may. DAMN. Just my luck. Well, now I'm prepared for the next sweepstakes with my contemplation of entering already thought out :).

The Cloud of Loveliness...

...is truly quite lovely!

I absolutely adore Google Chrome. It's by far the best internet browser I have used, ever. It's super fast and super...well, gorgeous. There's this snazzy, smooth touch to it and you can use whatever theme you choose - most of them just perfect and designed by great designers such as Cath Kidston, Oscar de la Renta, Badegley Mischka, etc. I used to have the Cath Kidston theme because it was rather feminine and dainty. Now, I have "The Cloud of Loveliness" by Edward Monkton. Look at the screenshot below; isn't it just so perfectly sunny?

"The Simple Thought That Could Change Your Life"

I picked this up from a Glamour.com article. It rings quite true. It comes off as cheesy but if you would just read it...just some food for thought:

"Think of your life as a tree or a plant (stay with me here), and recognize that some things wither and die back (bad jobs or dead-end relationships, for instance)--just a fact of life. Instead of pouring out your energy into those dead zones, focus on the new growth budding beneath the surface (a new career passion, a rekindled friendship that brings you joy, a health or fitness goal) and turn your attention to those things, letting the old die away. What you focus your energy on will grow."

Mother Nature does know best. :)