Just let me wax poetic for a moment. I dug these images up from my freshman stash of photos; all taken from within Parkside (both were taken inside my room, but I was standing at different heights). Freshman year was such a trial; got very depressed... was bitter, resentful, angry...the works. (I shamefully admit that I acted like a spoiled kid back then. My parents deserve some sort of prize for dealing with me over the phone).
L.A. is experiencing some sort of cold front right now, meaning that the skies are gray, and the atmosphere is very depressing. To be honest I like this weather, but it doesn't make for a nice back-drop when it comes to taking photos on graduation day.
I know my parents will insist on taking photos all around campus like tourists....to which I'll have to suck it up and bear with it. I doubt they'll get another opportunity like this; since I don't have any younger siblings and my elder sister managed to miss her graduation by accident (she might try to convince me otherwise; but I found out the truth...from our mother. I love it when siblings try to conceal their shame, only to have them exposed by their parents. This is why I never tell my parents anything).
Eurgh, I hate my graduation gown. I feel like some old-school London streaker/flasher when I'm wearing it over my dress.
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I got an email from one of my library supervisors today wishing me the best of luck. Made me feel much better about leaving everyone I've met over in California in less than two weeks. I just wish I won't become too attached to H.K. afterwards and lack the will to travel across the Pacific Ocean to visit everyone in a few years time (I need to get my ID card renewed in 2014). I've spent my entire childhood traveling from country to country, but I've never thought twice about leaving people behind. Why is this so much more difficult with age?
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Zut. One of my roommates (I know which one; there are four girls, myself included. One doesn't shower so never has the need for a towel; the other is never home. That just leaves one girl left...) stole my towel from the toilet. I don't know what happened to it, but I'm sure it isn't good. My towel has been missing all afternoon, and I've searched my entire closet and laundry hamper but to no avail. I don't want to go through my roommate's stuff so I don't know for sure if they have it or not.
Had to dry myself with a bloody piece of cloth half the size of a standard pillowcase...damn. Not my proudest moment as an undergraduate. Other moments I'm not proud of include:
L.A. is experiencing some sort of cold front right now, meaning that the skies are gray, and the atmosphere is very depressing. To be honest I like this weather, but it doesn't make for a nice back-drop when it comes to taking photos on graduation day.
I know my parents will insist on taking photos all around campus like tourists....to which I'll have to suck it up and bear with it. I doubt they'll get another opportunity like this; since I don't have any younger siblings and my elder sister managed to miss her graduation by accident (she might try to convince me otherwise; but I found out the truth...from our mother. I love it when siblings try to conceal their shame, only to have them exposed by their parents. This is why I never tell my parents anything).
Eurgh, I hate my graduation gown. I feel like some old-school London streaker/flasher when I'm wearing it over my dress.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I got an email from one of my library supervisors today wishing me the best of luck. Made me feel much better about leaving everyone I've met over in California in less than two weeks. I just wish I won't become too attached to H.K. afterwards and lack the will to travel across the Pacific Ocean to visit everyone in a few years time (I need to get my ID card renewed in 2014). I've spent my entire childhood traveling from country to country, but I've never thought twice about leaving people behind. Why is this so much more difficult with age?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Zut. One of my roommates (I know which one; there are four girls, myself included. One doesn't shower so never has the need for a towel; the other is never home. That just leaves one girl left...) stole my towel from the toilet. I don't know what happened to it, but I'm sure it isn't good. My towel has been missing all afternoon, and I've searched my entire closet and laundry hamper but to no avail. I don't want to go through my roommate's stuff so I don't know for sure if they have it or not.
Had to dry myself with a bloody piece of cloth half the size of a standard pillowcase...damn. Not my proudest moment as an undergraduate. Other moments I'm not proud of include:
-telling my mother about my suicidal thoughts only to have her dismissed them, and have her tell me that the remedy to my depression was to "think happy thoughts"
-encounter my 'aunt' (H.K. people would know what this means), and having to improvise with paper towels
-taking toilet paper from the school because our apartment ran out, and we're too cheap to buy a new bunch
-running down the hall to use someone else's toilet at night, because one suite-mate took a mega-dump and clogged BOTH toilets
-getting drunk, singing songs from movies in the 1940s and hugging random passerbys
-crying in class
-crying in the toilet cubicle inside a school building...
-encounter my 'aunt' (H.K. people would know what this means), and having to improvise with paper towels
-taking toilet paper from the school because our apartment ran out, and we're too cheap to buy a new bunch
-running down the hall to use someone else's toilet at night, because one suite-mate took a mega-dump and clogged BOTH toilets
-getting drunk, singing songs from movies in the 1940s and hugging random passerbys
-crying in class
-crying in the toilet cubicle inside a school building...
...more to come someday. Right now I've damned myself enough.
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