All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling.

M. Paff and I had another fight. I manned up and apologized even though it wasn't really my fault. I started to feel really upset when he replied with "apology accepted". I was just like, "THAT'S IT? THAT'S ALL YOU HAVE TO TELL ME?" but then he apologized too. That's good. If he didn't apologize, I think we would have been done.

My grandma is in a coma. No one bothered to tell me until she got really bad. What the fuck? Yesterday, my dad left the country to be by her side. I feel bad for my grandpa. He's gonna lose his only companion, and you can tell he really, totally loves her even though she has dementia and she's bawdy and vulgar and sometimes hits on him in front of us. I don't know how I feel about this. I know her, but right now, she doesn't feel like a real person to me. Hardly anyone feels real right now. I once again revert to thinking that everyone's programmed except for me.

My mom and brother are helping me move in. I don't know how I feel about that.

A few more weeks then I'm done with this blog and onto another one. I think toward the end, I've drifted a bit far away from the people I've given/will give access to this blog, and I no longer feel comfortable with them reading my private and sometimes insane thoughts and feelings and my countless and erroneous assumptions and predictions.

Your imagination is your preview of life's coming attraction

The other day I had a dream about going off to college. It was my first day there. Since everyone was excited to make friends, people would go up to each other and introduce themselves. I introduced myself as Tu Tram, the name I want to by in college. I was giddy throughout the whole dream up to the point where I dumped my fiance (please let this fiance-dumping thing not be a sign in my future or a recurring motif in my dreams), but that is a whole different story. Once I was awake, I could still feel the giddiness.

I just can't wait to get out of here. I want to go somewhere new, where people will meet me as I am now, not me as I was five years ago; somewhere that will inspire me to take my creativity to the next level; somewhere far, far away from here.

My parents will be leaving the country for Vietnam in a month for three weeks, meaning I'll have complete freedom for three weeks! Whoot whoot. I'm planning to visit Mlle. Johnston's dance studio and take pictures of the ballerinas as they dance and go to the mall afterwards with Mlle. Smith to visit H&M and get my black coat and leather jacket. Sounds fun and normal, ya?

My thing for taking portraits has increased exponentially these past few days. I really want to ask my female friends to model for me, starting with Mlle. Smith. She has an ordinarily pleasant face. I know for a fact that Mlle. Velasco photographs well--the highs and lows of her face balance out 2-D, I think. I would love to capture Mlle. Johnston's serious and graceful ballerina-ness. I don't know how Mlle. Jang will look behind the lens--I would sure love to find out, for she is so very charming. So is Mlle. Tran (the older). Mlle. Tran (the younger) is also very charming. I think she photographs nicely as well. Oh! Mlle. Kaila has the face that I want to photograph the most. It is very elegant and reminds me of a Spanish princess back during the Tudors' dynasty. I would love to photograph her. And little Mlle. Brinser too. But if I photographed Mlle. Brinser, I would have to photograph Mlle. Velasco's little sister who is just a--I love her and all, but...--little pest. She wouldn't make a good model; she moves around way too much. I can't work with someone who can't and won't take directions. Mlle. Smith's sister looks somewhat like her. I like how she looks very angelic. I think she would look very nice 2-D, but it would messed up to ask all of the freshmen and leave Mlle. Velasco's little sister out. So, the little ones are out.

My inspiration for the portraits:

Those who love each other should rest on the same pillow

I'll be breaking my mother's old heart when I tell her I won't be coming back to California. The reason she's letting me go is because she sees how trapped the other college kids feel when the parents keep their kids close. She doesn't know it yet, but letting me go will be the worst decision of her life. I don't know, but I know I won't want to came back. Whatever. I don't have to make that decision now, so I guess that's one good thing about it.

Omigosh, what if I won't get into Barnard nor Wellesley because of my lies and intention of hurt others. That's so screwy.

My mom's friends and their friends want their sons to marry me. I'm sorry, what? They don't even know me. Their sons probably hate me because of that, but that's not the point. God, what is with Asian people and match-making? I'd rather be a spinster than be matched-maked.  I wish they would just leave to me the picking of someone who will have control over my happiness until the day I die.

Look at this skirt. Isn't it the most adorable skirt in ever? I think it'd look adorable on me.

Time is a dressmaker specialized in alterations

When you really think about it, the distance between home in California and a school in the East Coast is not much greater than the distance from home to an instate university. Seriously, if I am not at home, I'm not at home. My parents won't get to see me either way. I think it is just the thought of being able to get to me if they want that really makes a difference.

Sometimes I feel bad for choosing to go so far away from them when my mom obviously will lose her right hand when I am gone, but I honestly have to go away. I am so sick of being in the same place for so long; I just feel like my creativity is seeping out in this boring suburb. I just need to get away.

My mother is willing to let my go out of state on one condition: I have to come back to California after I'm done with school. I'm telling her I will, but I am not planning to keep that promise. That is pretty stinky of me, I know. How am I ever going to make it up to her?

On a happier note, I met a cute boy at Borders today. I was buying the usual--a cream cheese pretzel, and he was the cashier or bartender--I don't know the right word. He was very cute; tall and blond; not too; amiable-looking. I wonder if he'd find me cute as well.

Speaking of cute...in honor of the new year, I am wearing at least one new item each day for seven days.