Well, I've always had trouble keeping blogs/journals afloat, hence the first post in more than half a year. But it's 3:47AM right now and I've officially run out of things to do. I've even trolled around Neopets for a hour. (BTW, I've been on that site for 7 years now with my current username. I forgot my first username..) And facebook games aren't entertaining enough.
But why am I up at this hour? Because my sleeping has been pretty erratic. Last week, I was sleeping from 7AM - 3PM roughly. And then I went on my snowboarding trip and I ended up staying up all night on the first day. Fastforward to now, I'm sleeping at 4PM - 1AM roughly. I have to say, this is the weirdest interval of sleep that I've had. But I actually see the morning and fool my mom in thinking that I sleep earlier.
Ugh, I guess I have to wait till I'm old and can't stay awake past midnight.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Stuff About Me
Teresa Cho
SOC 1 -
April 2, 2009
Response Paper #1 – Autobiographical Narrative
Pre School Years (1-6)
My memories as a child resided in an old three story building just on the outskirts of Chinatown, San Francisco. At the time, our entire family rented out the bottom floor and scrounged up enough for rent. On that floor was 3 bedrooms, one bathroom, living room, kitchen, a pantry like closet, and a basement, which was communal with the other two floors. About fifteen people lived in that house at one point in time. Needless to say, it was somewhat cramped.
My family was very frugal at the time since they had just moved to San Francisco from China and they were scrounging around to make a living. My grandmother used to collect soda cans and plastic bottles to cash in. One of my most vivid memories was the image of my grandmother spilling a large bag of cans and bottles into our backyard and having us crush them and making them ready for the collection center.
Since I lived with my family, I played with my cousins and my younger brother. We didn't really have much to play with. I remember we were allowed to watch a few shows on television: Barney, Sesame Street and Power Rangers, etc. Despite not having any toys, we crafted our own weapons and fought evil our own way. We also lived close to a local park so we would walk there, sometimes by ourselves, to play. There was a swing set in that park. One day, I was swinging on my stomach and all of a sudden, one of my cousins rushed out and I hit him. His head collided with my head and decided to find its nook in my eye socket. So for the next few weeks, I had a black eye. I was given a boiled egg instead of a frozen egg to rub on it.
I wasn't allowed to have any pets as a child because I've always had sensitive skin and my mom thought that I would get irritated from animals. So, we had fish, which are probably the worst pet you can own. It's more of a decoration than a pet.
The best memory that I have is probably the memory of getting my first library card. The library was right next to the park – within walking distance. My cousin and I walked down to the library by ourselves. We wanted to borrow some books but didn't have a library card. So, the librarian gave us a form to fill out. I was able to read a little and was able to fill out most of the form. However, when I got to the words “parent's signature”, I didn't know what the word “signature” meant. But I did know what parent was. So I guessed that it was for your parents name. I filled that out and gave it to the librarian. I still remember her reaction. She took a look at the form, then looked down at my hopeful eyes, and looked at the form again. Then she said “your parents didn't really sign this, did they?” and then she pointed at the signature whose handwriting matched the rest of the form. I honestly answered “no” because I didn't think that I had done anything wrong. For some reason, perhaps due to my honesty or just plain cluelessness, she gave me my card anyways. I was so proud. Of course, a few weeks later, I had lost it.
There is one memory that I don't remember happening. My dad once told me that I had a severe asthma attack when I was five and I had to be hospitalized for a while. I don't know why I don't remember it. It seems like an important memory. Maybe I just blacked out most of it.
Grade School Years (6-13)
Stereotypes always seem to play itself out. I was brilliant in school (up until college). I not only went to elementary school, I was also required to go to Chinese school and learn my parent's language. As a kid, I really enjoyed learning. Everything was pretty straight forward: arithmetic instead of differential calculus, summarization instead of structured essays, recess instead of work. I was able to pick up the material fairly quickly. I didn't really have a favorite subject. I was good at all of them. My parents thought I was genius and I was proud of that. At that time, I only wanted to make my parents proud of me.
Chinese school was also a piece of cake for me. I had the same teacher for three years. She was my favorite despite my lapse in memory when it comes to her name. In Chinese school, I didn't make many friends. I was very focused on school and made sure that I had near perfect marks. My best friend in Chinese school was probably my teacher. I was the teacher's pet. I don't know if my classmates resented me or not, but I don't remember any of their faces. I was the perfect student; I went to class every day on time, I did all my assignments, I helped the teacher prepare, I made the honor roll countless times. But I didn't stay perfect for long. When I got to 4th grade, my teacher changed. All of a sudden, I was in a new environment. I had to learn new things; I had to learn calligraphy. Oh, I had such a horrible time. I couldn't do it perfectly. I think I was really proud at that age. I had gone through three years of being on top and to fail at something probably crushed me. I pretended to be sick so I didn't have to go to school. I did this for a while before I told my mom that I just didn't want to go back to school. Looking back, I regret it. I speak semi-fluently, but probably not even to the caliber of what I used to be able to speak. And writing is just a nightmare.
Of course, I couldn't just quit elementary school. I still went to my “English” school and made high marks. I actually went to two elementary schools since my parents moved out of that cramped house halfway through my elementary school years. In the first half, I was very tomboyish. I made friends with most of the guys, my best friend being a white guy named Sean. I note his race because he was the only white boy in our class. For some reason, he was put in our ESL class. Perhaps he was half Chinese, but I don't remember. In any case, I would challenge the boys to jungle gym games such as monkey bars and swings and arm wrestling. I was very proud of being stronger than the boys. I remember comparing callouses with everyone; they were my pride and joy. When I went to the second elementary school, I started to hang out with girls more though we still dug for bugs. Then emerged 2nd best friend, Shasta. We were inseparable, until middle school.
I had good experiences in elementary school except for one crazy teacher that I had in 5th grade. We didn't learn anything. Instead of teaching us anything, she would hand us worksheets with 3 digit addition while she had classmates give her massages and braid her hair. She would eat her lunch while we watched videos on black people. Most of the school hated her and prayed to be placed in the other 5th grade class. I wouldn't have minded if she didn't suspend me for activating the fire extinguisher, which I didn't do. There was a time where she isolated the “smart” kids and let them do something productive while she made all the “dumb” students sit quietly because they were just a hassle. The worst teacher I've ever had.
Jr High and High School (13-18)
Middle school was really fun. I went to a “ghetto” school, where they didn't have much expectations for the students so I was able to cruise through middle school with straight A's. In middle school, I was probably able to stop focusing so much on schoolwork and finally develop a social life. I had drifted apart from the friends I made from elementary school and started hanging out with a new group of friends. My mom liked the fact that they were all smart Chinese kids and thought they would be a good influence on me.
Middle school was the time when I started drifting away from my parents. I started locking myself in my room a lot and mindlessly surf the Internet or play games. I didn't really talk to them about anything other than school. They didn't like the fact that I wasn't communicating with them but as time went by, they bothered me less and less, which was why my language skills deteriorated. I started to hang out with my friends more. This was an exciting time because I actually went out without supervision. I remember the first time we made plans, I couldn't sleep because I was so excited. My group of friends also had a dance group going on. Looking back, we really had no talent, but we got together and mimicked some dance moves from some Asian pop star. That was pretty fun.
High school kind of just flew past me. I didn't have any real drama or experiences while I was attending Lowell. It was one of those academic schools that tries to kill its students to prepare them for college. Most of the kids were nerdy and didn't have a reputation of partying. I didn't get exposed to alcohol or drugs all through high school until prom when someone mentioned it.
I don't have a favorite adventure, but I did have a worthwhile one. In my senior year, I went to Toronto with my friend for winter break. We ended up sleeping in the basement of a guy whom my friend met online for two weeks. That was probably the most rebellious thing I've done thus far.
High school was also the time when people started getting jobs. I didn't really need the money, but I thought it would be fun to have a job on the side if I did. I applied to this knife company and got the job. But my friend told me that it was actually a scam and I never went back. Tried a few other job interviews but never got a job in high school.
I had so many different dreams and aspirations during this time. I had wanted to be a journalist, a mechanic, a carpenter, a businesswoman, a programmer. None of them stayed with me for very long and I just toyed with the ideas. Even now I have no idea what I want to do with my life.
College Years (18+)
Ah, college. College gave me panic attacks. The thing that made me feel like an adult was probably after I moved into my apartment. I live with pretty clean people and it was absolutely horrible trying to keep up (I'm somewhat of a slob). I didn't realize how much effort it was to clean a place and to cook my own meals. I experimented with cooking. I really suck at it.
I got my first job at the university library. I still have it. It's a great job. I work in preservations, but most people don't know where it is. It's some room tucked away behind the staff doors. I have to tell them that I fix books up because they don't seem to grasp what I really do.
It was during my college years when my parents started drifting apart from the rest of the family. Every weekend they would go to the casinos and gamble. Even though I went home nearly every weekend, it's possible that I don't see them when I get back. They started called it their “jobs” and I suppose they were making money because my dad doesn't seem like the type of person to gamble our lives away. But I had finally stopped talking to my parents.
College was and still is very hard for me. Often times I found myself feeling really depressed and hopeless because of the endless math classes that I had to take as a programmer. I was barely getting by with the grades that I had. I had to keep telling myself that college didn't define who I was and wouldn't be the defining thing in my life. It helped. A little. But I was very pitiful. I didn't feel like I was worthy of being in school and wanted to drop out of school. But even the slight mention of it would make my mom infuriated. I was stuck.
I also felt that I was losing most of my friend because after we moved out of the dorms, it became hard to get in contact with them. I would just go home every day after my classes and do essentially nothing. I didn't go to parties, I didn't drink or do drugs. I was just a homebody. In most ways, I still feel kind of trapped in college. Hopefully the start of a new quarter will make things better.
I think the most positive influences that I've had come from my parents and just family members. When I was young, I communicated with them all the time and our relationship was solid. My life was happy when I was praised. However, at the same time, they also became a negative influence on me after the praises stopped coming and all they could talk about were the negatives. I became really bitter in the last few years because of this. I suppose part of me is still a kid that just wants to be told that they are doing something right and that their parents are proud of them. But another part of me wishes that I could sever that emotional tie with them and having their insensitive comments affect me. But no matter what, I do realize that my family will always be there for me, unless I come back pregnant, and I am really grateful to have them with me. School will probably continue to haunt me until I finally decide to grow up and take on the responsibilities to do well instead of relying on just getting by. But I just have to do what I have to do.
SOC 1 -
April 2, 2009
Response Paper #1 – Autobiographical Narrative
Pre School Years (1-6)
My memories as a child resided in an old three story building just on the outskirts of Chinatown, San Francisco. At the time, our entire family rented out the bottom floor and scrounged up enough for rent. On that floor was 3 bedrooms, one bathroom, living room, kitchen, a pantry like closet, and a basement, which was communal with the other two floors. About fifteen people lived in that house at one point in time. Needless to say, it was somewhat cramped.
My family was very frugal at the time since they had just moved to San Francisco from China and they were scrounging around to make a living. My grandmother used to collect soda cans and plastic bottles to cash in. One of my most vivid memories was the image of my grandmother spilling a large bag of cans and bottles into our backyard and having us crush them and making them ready for the collection center.
Since I lived with my family, I played with my cousins and my younger brother. We didn't really have much to play with. I remember we were allowed to watch a few shows on television: Barney, Sesame Street and Power Rangers, etc. Despite not having any toys, we crafted our own weapons and fought evil our own way. We also lived close to a local park so we would walk there, sometimes by ourselves, to play. There was a swing set in that park. One day, I was swinging on my stomach and all of a sudden, one of my cousins rushed out and I hit him. His head collided with my head and decided to find its nook in my eye socket. So for the next few weeks, I had a black eye. I was given a boiled egg instead of a frozen egg to rub on it.
I wasn't allowed to have any pets as a child because I've always had sensitive skin and my mom thought that I would get irritated from animals. So, we had fish, which are probably the worst pet you can own. It's more of a decoration than a pet.
The best memory that I have is probably the memory of getting my first library card. The library was right next to the park – within walking distance. My cousin and I walked down to the library by ourselves. We wanted to borrow some books but didn't have a library card. So, the librarian gave us a form to fill out. I was able to read a little and was able to fill out most of the form. However, when I got to the words “parent's signature”, I didn't know what the word “signature” meant. But I did know what parent was. So I guessed that it was for your parents name. I filled that out and gave it to the librarian. I still remember her reaction. She took a look at the form, then looked down at my hopeful eyes, and looked at the form again. Then she said “your parents didn't really sign this, did they?” and then she pointed at the signature whose handwriting matched the rest of the form. I honestly answered “no” because I didn't think that I had done anything wrong. For some reason, perhaps due to my honesty or just plain cluelessness, she gave me my card anyways. I was so proud. Of course, a few weeks later, I had lost it.
There is one memory that I don't remember happening. My dad once told me that I had a severe asthma attack when I was five and I had to be hospitalized for a while. I don't know why I don't remember it. It seems like an important memory. Maybe I just blacked out most of it.
Grade School Years (6-13)
Stereotypes always seem to play itself out. I was brilliant in school (up until college). I not only went to elementary school, I was also required to go to Chinese school and learn my parent's language. As a kid, I really enjoyed learning. Everything was pretty straight forward: arithmetic instead of differential calculus, summarization instead of structured essays, recess instead of work. I was able to pick up the material fairly quickly. I didn't really have a favorite subject. I was good at all of them. My parents thought I was genius and I was proud of that. At that time, I only wanted to make my parents proud of me.
Chinese school was also a piece of cake for me. I had the same teacher for three years. She was my favorite despite my lapse in memory when it comes to her name. In Chinese school, I didn't make many friends. I was very focused on school and made sure that I had near perfect marks. My best friend in Chinese school was probably my teacher. I was the teacher's pet. I don't know if my classmates resented me or not, but I don't remember any of their faces. I was the perfect student; I went to class every day on time, I did all my assignments, I helped the teacher prepare, I made the honor roll countless times. But I didn't stay perfect for long. When I got to 4th grade, my teacher changed. All of a sudden, I was in a new environment. I had to learn new things; I had to learn calligraphy. Oh, I had such a horrible time. I couldn't do it perfectly. I think I was really proud at that age. I had gone through three years of being on top and to fail at something probably crushed me. I pretended to be sick so I didn't have to go to school. I did this for a while before I told my mom that I just didn't want to go back to school. Looking back, I regret it. I speak semi-fluently, but probably not even to the caliber of what I used to be able to speak. And writing is just a nightmare.
Of course, I couldn't just quit elementary school. I still went to my “English” school and made high marks. I actually went to two elementary schools since my parents moved out of that cramped house halfway through my elementary school years. In the first half, I was very tomboyish. I made friends with most of the guys, my best friend being a white guy named Sean. I note his race because he was the only white boy in our class. For some reason, he was put in our ESL class. Perhaps he was half Chinese, but I don't remember. In any case, I would challenge the boys to jungle gym games such as monkey bars and swings and arm wrestling. I was very proud of being stronger than the boys. I remember comparing callouses with everyone; they were my pride and joy. When I went to the second elementary school, I started to hang out with girls more though we still dug for bugs. Then emerged 2nd best friend, Shasta. We were inseparable, until middle school.
I had good experiences in elementary school except for one crazy teacher that I had in 5th grade. We didn't learn anything. Instead of teaching us anything, she would hand us worksheets with 3 digit addition while she had classmates give her massages and braid her hair. She would eat her lunch while we watched videos on black people. Most of the school hated her and prayed to be placed in the other 5th grade class. I wouldn't have minded if she didn't suspend me for activating the fire extinguisher, which I didn't do. There was a time where she isolated the “smart” kids and let them do something productive while she made all the “dumb” students sit quietly because they were just a hassle. The worst teacher I've ever had.
Jr High and High School (13-18)
Middle school was really fun. I went to a “ghetto” school, where they didn't have much expectations for the students so I was able to cruise through middle school with straight A's. In middle school, I was probably able to stop focusing so much on schoolwork and finally develop a social life. I had drifted apart from the friends I made from elementary school and started hanging out with a new group of friends. My mom liked the fact that they were all smart Chinese kids and thought they would be a good influence on me.
Middle school was the time when I started drifting away from my parents. I started locking myself in my room a lot and mindlessly surf the Internet or play games. I didn't really talk to them about anything other than school. They didn't like the fact that I wasn't communicating with them but as time went by, they bothered me less and less, which was why my language skills deteriorated. I started to hang out with my friends more. This was an exciting time because I actually went out without supervision. I remember the first time we made plans, I couldn't sleep because I was so excited. My group of friends also had a dance group going on. Looking back, we really had no talent, but we got together and mimicked some dance moves from some Asian pop star. That was pretty fun.
High school kind of just flew past me. I didn't have any real drama or experiences while I was attending Lowell. It was one of those academic schools that tries to kill its students to prepare them for college. Most of the kids were nerdy and didn't have a reputation of partying. I didn't get exposed to alcohol or drugs all through high school until prom when someone mentioned it.
I don't have a favorite adventure, but I did have a worthwhile one. In my senior year, I went to Toronto with my friend for winter break. We ended up sleeping in the basement of a guy whom my friend met online for two weeks. That was probably the most rebellious thing I've done thus far.
High school was also the time when people started getting jobs. I didn't really need the money, but I thought it would be fun to have a job on the side if I did. I applied to this knife company and got the job. But my friend told me that it was actually a scam and I never went back. Tried a few other job interviews but never got a job in high school.
I had so many different dreams and aspirations during this time. I had wanted to be a journalist, a mechanic, a carpenter, a businesswoman, a programmer. None of them stayed with me for very long and I just toyed with the ideas. Even now I have no idea what I want to do with my life.
College Years (18+)
Ah, college. College gave me panic attacks. The thing that made me feel like an adult was probably after I moved into my apartment. I live with pretty clean people and it was absolutely horrible trying to keep up (I'm somewhat of a slob). I didn't realize how much effort it was to clean a place and to cook my own meals. I experimented with cooking. I really suck at it.
I got my first job at the university library. I still have it. It's a great job. I work in preservations, but most people don't know where it is. It's some room tucked away behind the staff doors. I have to tell them that I fix books up because they don't seem to grasp what I really do.
It was during my college years when my parents started drifting apart from the rest of the family. Every weekend they would go to the casinos and gamble. Even though I went home nearly every weekend, it's possible that I don't see them when I get back. They started called it their “jobs” and I suppose they were making money because my dad doesn't seem like the type of person to gamble our lives away. But I had finally stopped talking to my parents.
College was and still is very hard for me. Often times I found myself feeling really depressed and hopeless because of the endless math classes that I had to take as a programmer. I was barely getting by with the grades that I had. I had to keep telling myself that college didn't define who I was and wouldn't be the defining thing in my life. It helped. A little. But I was very pitiful. I didn't feel like I was worthy of being in school and wanted to drop out of school. But even the slight mention of it would make my mom infuriated. I was stuck.
I also felt that I was losing most of my friend because after we moved out of the dorms, it became hard to get in contact with them. I would just go home every day after my classes and do essentially nothing. I didn't go to parties, I didn't drink or do drugs. I was just a homebody. In most ways, I still feel kind of trapped in college. Hopefully the start of a new quarter will make things better.
I think the most positive influences that I've had come from my parents and just family members. When I was young, I communicated with them all the time and our relationship was solid. My life was happy when I was praised. However, at the same time, they also became a negative influence on me after the praises stopped coming and all they could talk about were the negatives. I became really bitter in the last few years because of this. I suppose part of me is still a kid that just wants to be told that they are doing something right and that their parents are proud of them. But another part of me wishes that I could sever that emotional tie with them and having their insensitive comments affect me. But no matter what, I do realize that my family will always be there for me, unless I come back pregnant, and I am really grateful to have them with me. School will probably continue to haunt me until I finally decide to grow up and take on the responsibilities to do well instead of relying on just getting by. But I just have to do what I have to do.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Things I hate: "Celebrities are normal people!"
So I was browsing through old blogs on SAPL (Stuff Asian People Like) and I got to this article: Stuff Asians Don't Like.
Basically, the articles goes something like Miley Cyrus makes Asian face, Asian people don't like it, Miley Cyrus makes half-assed "apology" and Asians don't like it.
But despite the fact that I don't think white bitches should be using their fingers to "slant" their eyes if they don't want me to staple it that way (come on people, isn't it time to just get over it? We don't always talk about how fat and lazy and stupid white people are................), I found the fact that people defending her are saying stuff like "Oh, she's just a teenager. She's just messing around." and "Stop being so hard on her. It's not like you've never done it."
Yeah, you're right. I have done it. But I'm not paid 18 million dollars a year to be a role model to deadbeat kids who look up to this slut. Yeah, I'm jealous, I admit, who wouldn't be? She doesn't have talent, got a free ride because her one-hit wonder dad wrote that achy-breaky heart song, is somewhat attractive but always seems to bring on the fug in her "candid" pictures by having dirty looking hair and that hideous fish lips face that every white bitch in America seems to be doing. Granted, I've never seen a full episode of her show, but after years of watching Disney as a kid, I doubt her acting is superb. Listened to a few songs, catchy beat, but horrible voice.
But I digress, a lot. Anyways, my main point is that celebrities are NOT normal people. Normal people do not have paparazzi following them, hoping that their scandalous pictures could be sold for millions. Naked pictures of me would sell for like a dollar, but oh man, naked pictures of Lindsay and Britney fetched so much dough (though,my studies show that the more times you do it, people lose interest EXPONENTIALLY). And to be honest, I can see Miley following close behind. Whoo, wait till she becomes legal.
But I've never met this Miley person. I don't really know what her character is, what her personality is. For all I know, she could be someone I could hang with (if I ever hung out with white people) but from what I can see. No.
That's the great thing about celebrities. You can make total assumptions about them without even trying. When these people decided to be famous, they signed away their life and freedom. For that fame, people like me, who pay a pretty penny to see celebrities fall from their pedestal (which you have to admit is much more entertaining than some clean cut image) and honestly make me feel a little better about myself. So, why should I give a shit about celebrities who get butt hurt over stupid shit? Why defend them? They aren't normal people. If they were normal people, we would be like them, and you don't see me on a TV show that girls absolutely worship.
Psh, normal people my ass.
(btw, it's 5am. I've been up all night. College is really fucking with me... or maybe it's just me fucking up my own life. Oooh, self-sabotage.
I wonder if I'm always this bitter when I lack sleep...)
Basically, the articles goes something like Miley Cyrus makes Asian face, Asian people don't like it, Miley Cyrus makes half-assed "apology" and Asians don't like it.
But despite the fact that I don't think white bitches should be using their fingers to "slant" their eyes if they don't want me to staple it that way (come on people, isn't it time to just get over it? We don't always talk about how fat and lazy and stupid white people are................), I found the fact that people defending her are saying stuff like "Oh, she's just a teenager. She's just messing around." and "Stop being so hard on her. It's not like you've never done it."
Yeah, you're right. I have done it. But I'm not paid 18 million dollars a year to be a role model to deadbeat kids who look up to this slut. Yeah, I'm jealous, I admit, who wouldn't be? She doesn't have talent, got a free ride because her one-hit wonder dad wrote that achy-breaky heart song, is somewhat attractive but always seems to bring on the fug in her "candid" pictures by having dirty looking hair and that hideous fish lips face that every white bitch in America seems to be doing. Granted, I've never seen a full episode of her show, but after years of watching Disney as a kid, I doubt her acting is superb. Listened to a few songs, catchy beat, but horrible voice.
But I digress, a lot. Anyways, my main point is that celebrities are NOT normal people. Normal people do not have paparazzi following them, hoping that their scandalous pictures could be sold for millions. Naked pictures of me would sell for like a dollar, but oh man, naked pictures of Lindsay and Britney fetched so much dough (though,
But I've never met this Miley person. I don't really know what her character is, what her personality is. For all I know, she could be someone I could hang with (if I ever hung out with white people) but from what I can see. No.
That's the great thing about celebrities. You can make total assumptions about them without even trying. When these people decided to be famous, they signed away their life and freedom. For that fame, people like me, who pay a pretty penny to see celebrities fall from their pedestal (which you have to admit is much more entertaining than some clean cut image) and honestly make me feel a little better about myself. So, why should I give a shit about celebrities who get butt hurt over stupid shit? Why defend them? They aren't normal people. If they were normal people, we would be like them, and you don't see me on a TV show that girls absolutely worship.
Psh, normal people my ass.
(btw, it's 5am. I've been up all night. College is really fucking with me... or maybe it's just me fucking up my own life. Oooh, self-sabotage.
I wonder if I'm always this bitter when I lack sleep...)
Monday, February 2, 2009
I wanna be famous.
So, you know what I've always wanted to be? One of those famous bloggers that have quicky, creative, cool articles that everyone wants to read. But you know what always seems to get in the way?
PROCRASTINATION
... and plain laziness.
It's not like I have no ideas or anything. I'm constantly thinking up entries in my head, planning them out (even editing them!) but once I get on the computer, I just kind of die away into facebook or random surfing.
You know what would be cool? If there was some device that would record all my thoughts for me and convert that into text. Like a compiler that reads in brain waves and prints out to normal human text.
It would probably turn out something like this: So today the funniest thing happened to me. I was trying to make rice and I completely and utterly failed at it. I guess I didn't put enough rice in it cause it came out way too hard. I had to throw -- hmm, why is David sending me dirty messages? Oh, really, he wants to do that now.. hmm, that's -- OH SHIT. I can erase that right? Fuck. Uhm, how do I go back? Argh.... damnit David stop writing that stuff, I can't concentrate on this entry. Damnit.
I don't think it would work out. I tend to be too scatterbrained for that kind of technology. Who knows what kind of shenanigans my brain would get me into!
But yeah. I've always wanted to be a famous blogger. But as you can see, it's been like how long since I last updated this thing? I'm so bad at it! I have so many blog ideas that I wanna do like:
- Asian professors can't teach
- Relationships make me insane
- Cooking in college means a starving Teresa
And other stuff that I don't remember because I never bother jotting down my ideas. I wanna start blogging again, but sooooooooo lazy.
PROCRASTINATION
... and plain laziness.
It's not like I have no ideas or anything. I'm constantly thinking up entries in my head, planning them out (even editing them!) but once I get on the computer, I just kind of die away into facebook or random surfing.
You know what would be cool? If there was some device that would record all my thoughts for me and convert that into text. Like a compiler that reads in brain waves and prints out to normal human text.
It would probably turn out something like this: So today the funniest thing happened to me. I was trying to make rice and I completely and utterly failed at it. I guess I didn't put enough rice in it cause it came out way too hard. I had to throw -- hmm, why is David sending me dirty messages? Oh, really, he wants to do that now.. hmm, that's -- OH SHIT. I can erase that right? Fuck. Uhm, how do I go back? Argh.... damnit David stop writing that stuff, I can't concentrate on this entry. Damnit.
I don't think it would work out. I tend to be too scatterbrained for that kind of technology. Who knows what kind of shenanigans my brain would get me into!
But yeah. I've always wanted to be a famous blogger. But as you can see, it's been like how long since I last updated this thing? I'm so bad at it! I have so many blog ideas that I wanna do like:
- Asian professors can't teach
- Relationships make me insane
- Cooking in college means a starving Teresa
And other stuff that I don't remember because I never bother jotting down my ideas. I wanna start blogging again, but sooooooooo lazy.
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