home of the enslaved and cowardly

So the conversation with my middle-aged, Chinese father went like so: "I remember the movies that impacted me the most when I first came to America" "Titanic" "No, Charlie " "Dad, what the hell is Charlie? I've never heard of it before?" a low-budget, 90s film perhaps? "nononono...You know the one with the 娃娃(doll) with the scar. Scary" "A doll? You mean Chuckie?" "Yeah. That's what I said. Scary doll, scared the shit out of me" "Really? Did you understand english then?" "哎呀(onomatopoeia of exasperation- aiyah! ) I didn't need to. So. Scary. At first, I watched by myself, but then I was too scared so I convinced your mother to watch it with me. She was pregnant with you at the time, I think. She thought the movie would influence your birth, but I was scared so there were no other options" "...So you risked your firstborn's birth to watch Chuckie?" "...Yes" ...

Oh how my tongue has become knotted and heavy. Another year of anti-productiveness, mal-satisfaction, and occasionally joyfulness. What happens as we approach 2012?! Just kidding, I have not watched 2012, nor do I believe in the end of the world being 2012 (y2K!). However, I do feel a sense of unjustness as the year of 2010 leaves us. Perhaps it is because my procrastination has led to another wasted year that I feel such reluctance. Even though I gave up new year resolutions years ago, I cannot help but want to create great goals for myself in the hope of a fresh year {even though we all know that by February goals become passing dreams}. So, when is it a good time to start a goal? Should they even be attempted? No. You're right. Goals are for losers.

Remember those days when everyone wanted a sequin belt to wear over their prairie skirts? Remember those days when everyone wanted ponchos to wear over the witty tees? Remember calf-length Lycra leggings? Remember jeggings? Ugg boots? Oh wait, everyone still wears Ugg boots. As warm as they be, I feel that girls cannot use Ugg boots in coordination with real ensembles. Ugg boots + jeans + t-shirt, I can handle. Ugg boots + floral dress + tights? Please. In this situation, Ugg appropriately means ugly. As in "floral cutout tights that give your legs the appearance of spider veins" ugly. No more. Wield Ugg boots cautiously so as to not frighten and disturb the delicate visual senses of normal people. Otherwise, the entire population of young girls may begin accepting Ugg boots as tasteful couture...

with winter, there's no doubt feelings of the warm and fuzzy sort begin to appear. inspired by this sudden change of temperature, I have begun layering clothing as if what I lack in blubber can be made up in terms of artificial insulation. of course, with my new Emily the Strange haircut, I have been feeling young and chic enough to pull of bizarro combinations of thermals and button ups. with my new pair of combat boots, I have enough of the homeless/hipster look to cover for the entire population of san francisco. hopefully, I won't be recognized, captured, and detained by either real homeless people or hipsters. Happy Winter!

I keep turning on my laptop, visiting the same sites, waiting for something. I don't know what it is that I am expecting, but it feels as if my time needs to be passed, or I might lose myself to lethargy and decay. My eyelids grow a little heavier and my spirit dims a little, but when I go to sleep I fall into dreamless slumber. I remember last year, I wanted to fall asleep everynight and not have to wake up. Man, this year, I don't even know if I can make it to bed before I shut my eyelids. What to do when tiredness becomes so deeply engrained?

I've decided that college is not worth the pressure of applications, esssays, recommendations, standardized tests, parents, etc. Thus, I will not be attending college this fall. just kidding. I will most likely spend late nights working on essays in tears. That is the purpose of life for now. and canvas print Hello Kitty doc Martens.

My new fashion icon. Cruella Devil. Of course not Mr. Walter Disney's animated version, but Glenn Close's elegant interpretation. Matte red lipstick. Black and white silhouettes. Fur and leather capes. Always a cigarette held with gloved fingers. How much more classic does it get? Right now, the closest (barely) to Cruella are my crimson nails (even though their length barely leaves my nailbeds). As the autumn and winter seasons approach, I wish to pull out black and white tailored coats that can immediately increase my coolness to the level of "able to skin puppies with a smile".

For an assignment, I must read Ralph Elison's Invisible Man . Of course, 14 pages into the book, I am confused. I've reached the story of (what I understand) a man raping and impregnating his daughter in his sleep. Now, I know that there must be some Freudian psychology something or another, but this book's details are hard for me to wrap my mind around (so far). Maybe the electrocuting ground bit was bizarre only to me. Maybe most people find it normal to want several thousand lights in one room. I only wish that my reading assignment could be Hansel and Gretel because (at least) I could explain to you the dangers of children's fairy tales

parent teacher organizations...with my 12 years experience of parent volunteers, they are the epitome of adults with no lives. these parents from hell have nothing to do with their time besides disrupt the educational experience of their children and their classmates. Bitter, you say? I distinctly recall writing about parent volunteers in my grade school diary, so yes, I am bitter. Why can't those silly bitches spend their time elsewhere being productive members of society, perhaps by employment? Anyone can cut, laminate, and staple crafts for grade schoolers. Likewise, children can be mentally scarred by anyone, so why would you risk them with the presence of ridiculously biased middle-aged women, who clearly don't like any students that threaten the presence of their children. This argument has gone off from its original (read: ranting) direction. What I meant to say was that these women (it's not sexist; men just seem to understand that being a parent volunteer is not a ...

What happened to all of the years that I thought that I had? It's my final year of childhood, yet I plan to pass them away lumbering around under the pressure of schoolwork and adults. I'm no teenage rebel, but a little part of me wishes that I could be Peter Pan-to stay young forever. School hasn't been too deathly yet, but the thought of taking 6-7 Advanced Placement Tests looms over like an anvil in a Tom and Jerry Cartoon. It's my fault for wanting to be so ambitious this year anyway...So these are all of my thoughts on my quickly dying away Labor Day weekend...until tom

everyday, i turn on the tv to keep me company. recently, i want a cat mostly because i want someone to listen to me all of the time. maybe i'm just a freak in need of human interaction, but i really don't want conversation, well it's more like i want some one-sided conversation. i certainly cant talk to my family members about things that i feel i want to get off my chest because i feel that would burden my family members. i;m probably going insane at this point. i hate staying at home by myself, yet i can't stand the ruckus and nervous tension of all the people that i share a living space with. somehow, if they were all cats, i think this would work out for the best.