I realized I never really write long posts, especially since the last like 7 have been one-sentence spurts of thoughts. I don’t feel like writing my anthro research paper, so I’ll write this instead. cheers. “How are you?” sorry I feel like people don’t say that enough, and even if they do, they never wait for the other person to respond (like my neighbor). This semester, academically, has been so rigorous I think I’ve really had enough of it. I guess it’s kind of weird/selfish/dumb, but I always feel like even if you take classes you know you won’t enjoy, you could work really hard and still get the grade you’d like. That thought ended like 2 weeks after I decided to stay in a few science classes to torture myself (serial slave labor). I hate science. Sorry, I don’t really hate science. I think it’s cool and for people who are science majors or pre-meds, it’s really admirable. But girl, it ain’t my thang. I just don’t understand plants and frogs and what the heck my ribosomes do the way some of my other friends do. The only thing I’m really upset about is that it took me this long to realize how much I lack passion, compassion, patience, and love for it; I knew it since elementary school when Mrs. Weiner always called on me to label plant parts in our mini coloring science booklets. UGH, IT WAS THE WORST. And, it didn’t get much better, so someone should’ve really yelled at me to stop. My excuse is that it’s an Asian thing; if you’re not studying science, engineering, or business, you might as well just work at a Mexican drug cartel. I’m kidding, please don’t do that. I guess that’s why people say college is the time to discover who you are, what interests you, and hopefully you’ll pursue that path. But why do I always feel like some of those expectations are always silently whispered into thin air, omnipresent yet so opaque.


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