Bow ties

So, I'm back in Arizona for the summer. Quite a few friends have scattered across the globe, and even the ones who are still here feel a bit disjointed. People are busy with their lives and schedules. But every once in a while, a few of us manage to get together.

The one instance I've managed to not be unsocial [except for brief excursions to the high school and (today) to Barnes & Noble with some friends] was the Glee Finale party hosted by my friend Kaylie. I wasn't sure about going at first--I hadn't been keeping up with the season, and I felt a little guilty leaving behind people at home, but ultimately I decided to go a little bit before the event. In the hours leading up to it, I searched frantically for a bow tie. The reason? I wanted to dress up like Darren Criss.

Alright, so it's Blaine Anderson to be exact. Darren Criss's style is a bit more varied than Blaine's, since it seems that since transferring to McKinley Blaine's been wearing a bow tie with every outfit. So, I needed a bow tie in order to dress up as Blaine--and maybe some suspenders too. Well, I drove around to the Goodwill, then in the other direction to another thrift shop, and I still couldn't find a bow tie! Lots of regular neckties, but I had enough of those. So I finally headed off to Walmart, hoping that they'd at least have some cheap, basic ones. No luck. Found some suspenders, but decided against investing in them. If I couldn't find a bow tie, then there was no point to them.

I headed home after 45 minutes of searching. I didn't exactly give up, though. Instead, I headed to my dad's closet to do some digging. It took a few minutes before I located his ties--just a measly few hanging on a hanger. But behold! there was indeed a bow tie. Unfortunately, it was a cheap one, made of extremely hard fabric with a fairly cheesy pattern...and it was velcro-ed on. The tie-enthusiast in me died a little, but it couldn't be helped! I tried it on and decided that it didn't look /too/ bad.

So...off to Kaylie's, where I discovered Kaylie dressed as Kurt! It was perfect, since over the winter we had taken a picture with us matching [wearing scarves and cardigans, ahaha]. Time for another snapshot!

The Christmas-time picture. :)

Klaine! Ahaha. :)

It was great, and the plot didn't require a lot of context. Just knowledge that the seniors were graduating [our high school's graduation was just a few days ahead!]. The episode mostly consisted of singing, and Finchel drama. Many cheesy moments, some questionable directing/storyline, but nothing that wasn't classically GLEE!

Anyway, you'd think that my obsession with bow ties would end with the conclusion of the need to dress up as Blaine. But nope--my brain doesn't let go of things that easily [perhaps I am more obsessive than I'd care to admit]. So, Friday afternoon, I went with my cousin and uncle to Scottsdale Fashion Square to locate some bow ties.

My expectation for their prices was that a cheap bow tie would cost around $5-$10, and an expensive one maybe $20. Turns out the super cheap ones were $30, with most being around the $60 range! Expectations shattered. [that said, $5 bow ties are available here.] We left without any bow ties [or pocket squares, which we spent a good 15 minutes looking at]. Instead, I left with a pair of $30 shoes [that my uncle paid for--I can't believe I let him do so without a fight! So ashamed of myself] that I can wear without socks. They look fairly nice!

Given my unsuccessful search, I resolved to look for some cheap bow ties in my time in China. But before giving up, I scoured the interwebs for more! eBay was actually fairly nice--there were a few that looked appealing and cheap. But I resisted the urge to make impulsive, late-night purchases, and instead looked around for some DIY guides. What I found were:

(1) Making a bow tie out of a neck tie. Both temporarily and actually. Since I didn't care to actually cut up one of my ties [or to obtain a tie just to cut it up] and definitely didn't have the skills to actually do so, I ended up doing this:

So tacky, I can't even...

(2) I found some actual DIY guides that I think will be feasible. This one in particular. I was actually leaning toward this at first, but then I realized [or rather, my cousin helped to remind me of] my dislike for these velcro bow ties. :P

So then I looked around for some fabric places near Cambridge and found this nice gem. I think I will be frequenting it at some point. The fabrics are cheap and nice looking. In particular, I think this would be a nice bow tie pattern. :)

Hopefully I don't kill my fingers attempting this, whenever I actually get around to it, if ever. Ahah.

When Good Comes Out of Bad

These last few days have been pretty shitty. Of course, it's been my own doing. Which makes it even worse.
I've harmed someone close to me, broken the trust given to me, overstepped boundaries that had been pretty well established. And now I'm crying over it because I'm a dumbass.

Still, some good has come of it.

I've discovered--or rather, rediscovered--that there are people willing to help me out, willing to be a shoulder to cry on, to put me in a warm and comforting embrace, to bring me out of my self-centered bad moods. Friends who I don't see on a regular basis have reached out and been so kind, have endured my stupid stories and my sour mood, have reassured me (perhaps falsely) that I am not an entirely terrible person.

It's good to know that one has friends.

And as for my victim. As for the friend I hurt, the close friend whose trust I broke. My victim has been extremely understanding. Though ultimately the problem won't be solved until we talk about this issue face-to-face, I've gotten help along the way. Yes, even from him. Especially from him. Despite my selfish and terrible and disgusting actions, he's still there for me, to some capacity. I can't get what I want from him--the hug, the smile, the pat on the head, the "It's okay, I understand"--no, not yet. He's not ready for that yet. And who am I to complain? I created the problem in the first place.

A final good coming out of this: I think the root cause of this problem has been discovered. And with that, it can be remedied. I'm making the steps toward seeking professional help for my issues, since I think I've bothered my friends enough. But more than that, I think I've reached an understanding within myself about what I need to do to prevent this from happening again. I can't promise that I'll be able to do it. It's really out of my control. But I will try my utmost to control it--not to suppress it, but to engage with it and to reason with it.

The heart is hard to translate, as Florence sings. And sometimes, when it speaks in the language of its own, it's hard to have a dialogue with it. It's hard to tell it to "calm yo shit." But I think it's possible. And I'd love to see that day when I heart no longer needs to fight against my brain, the day when the two are compatible. Might be a while away. But it'll be good once I get there.

And I will love to see that day

That day is mine

When she will marry me outside

With the willow tree

And play the songs we made

They made me so

And I would love to see that day

Her day was mine

HBA

Dear Kenneth,
Unfortunately, there was an error in our decision delivery process, andadmission letters were accidentally sent to students who we cannot offeradmission to at this time. We sincerely apologize for this error, and we aresorry that we cannot currently offer you admission to HBA. However, we haveplaced you on our waiting list, and you will be given priority if a spacebecomes available.
Again, our sincerest apologies for any inconvenience this has caused.

This becomes increasingly annoying every time I read it.

Shopping Week Blog

This is going up here so that I can delete the file.
Let it be noted that a lot of this stuff will not make sense to anyone other than myself.
Let it also be noted that I have censored myself by omitting extremely incriminating stuff. ;)

Monday, January 23, 2012

Econ 1010b--Macroeconomics

10:00am: Damn, Ec1010b lecture really got me interested in Econ again. Prof Foote was really interesting and inviting, super super funny.

Gov 40--International Conflict and Cooperation

10:06am: Looks like there are already people sucking up to Prof Rosen.

10:07am: Oh look, Matt Watson is here. As is Doris and Oh, John Grammer—never mind, not him. Ohai Julian.

10:07am: Oh, the suck-ups were actually just section leaders. Oops. #tooquicktojudge

10:08am: Class still hasn’t started… Oh well. :P Still giving out handouts… Oh lol, it’s just a syllabus.

10:10am: OHAI DIANA!

10:12am: A lot more sparse than Ec1010b

10:27am: Interesting insight about being able to look at current events based on historical parallels [Current “jihad” vs. Past European “crusade”]

10:32am: Also Japan-US in WWII vs. Iran-US&allies, with Econ Sanctions à War

10:37am: Maybe I’ll be more interested in a different IR class, or a PoliTheory class. Let’s see how Gov 1061 goes tomorrow.

10:51am: Ended 9 minutes early. Gives me good time to a) go to Sever and b) study for Chinese

Soc ???--something about heirachial organizations

11:10am: lol. People making fun of his accent already. Although, granted, it is difficult to understand him at times.

11:12am: Interesting, another Chinese TF

11:14am: lol, surprisingly high number of guest speakers—seven confirmed, hopefully nine?

11:17am: Ohai Jay. :P

11:18am: Lol. Holworthy freshman spouting out impressive things, just repeating the stuff the senior said, basically.

11:20am: Such a long course introduction.

11:58am: Indeed, the entire class, basically, was just course intro. Attempt to introduce material at the end involved readings that no one had done yet. Lol. Very awkward class, very awkward instructor, people left saying that they were “not feeling it” and those who do stay are probably hoping that the guest lectures and case studies will make up for it [as one girl mentioned]

Ec10 2nd Semester - Macroeconomics

12:07am: Mankiw. First comic: “This is my first recession. How worried should I be? / You’ll be fine as long as you don’t have any hopes and dreams. / But I still have them. / It’s time to yank off that band-aid.” WTF.

Psych ??? - The Psychology of Human Sexuality

1:08pm: Let’s hope this class is offered next year since it hasn’t been for 5 years, lol.

1:11pm: I am SOOOOOOOOO IMMATURE.

1:14pm: “Human beings are always…’up’ for it.”

1:20pm: Highlights—Silvio Berlusconi, Herman Cain, Good ol’ Newt, and hypocritical old closeted Republican men

1:22pm: Too much talk of the female anatomy

1:26pm: “biopsychosocial perspective” <3

1:27pm: “fisting” “titillating”

1:31pm: Interesting distinction between transvestite and transsexual; the former is more of a fetish, the latter psychological/gender identity.

1:44pm: “Based on this research, exposure to semen lowers rates of clinical depression.”

1:49pm: Noice. He’s writing a textbook. AND he writes a SEX COLUMN?! scienceofrelationships.com: “Lusting, Loving, Leaving”

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Gov 1061--The History of Modern Political Philosophy

11:23am: Ohai Krister.

11:40am: obai Krister.

12:05pm: Ohai again, Krister.

Eng??? - Crime and Horror in Victorian Literature

12:07pm: Lol, cheesy music.

12:10pm: How does he use “Exciting” and “Disturbing” in the same sentence?

Ec????--Behavioral Economics

1:08pm: Lol. Kids not looking at the location change [although to be honest, it wasn’t very clear on the course website.]

1:12pm: Yay. Harvard students solving problems on their own. The horde is trickling in.

SLS 20--Psychological Science

2:35pm: Lol—Amboy Duke’s “Journey to the Center of The Mind” not working on Pinker’s laptop. Sadfaice.

2:39pm: His voice is higher than I would have expected. But his sense of humor is nice

2:44pm: Steven Pinker talking to his complaining [battery-dead] Roomba

3:13pm: Steven Pinker just mentioned Viagra and penis enlargement in conjunction with captcha tests

3:37pm: Noticing a lot of overlap with his book

3:48pm: I like how he says “rather” as [ɹɒðə]

AAAAAAAAAAAAND that's a wrap.

Winter Crush

Didn't exactly work out the way I expected.
Indeed, to be completely honest, didn't really work out at all.

We had started messaging each other at the end of last semester, right before finals. The nice (if you could call it that) coincidence was that we had exams the same days--indeed, we shared one exam. But even post-exam period, when we had gone home for the holidays, the messages continued to flow. Most of the time, I wasn't the one initiating them. Regardless, I looked forward to them every night. It was funny--I'd get the messages around 11pm or 12am, when it was already 1-2am on the East Coast. But we would always be chatting for an hour, maybe half, maybe more.

The messages dried up after New Years. I reasoned that it was difficult to enjoy a trip to South Africa and Germany and still find time to text someone back in the States, nine time zones away. Even when messages weren't forthcoming after the trip, I just assumed it was because it was almost time to get back to campus, and everyone was just busy packing.

So it was a little unfortunate when we couldn't exchange over ten words to each other when we finally met up on campus. If we can even call it that. The first two times we met eyes, a total of zero words were spoken. The third time? "Hey." "Oh! Hi!" And then we parted ways.

A few nights later, around 3am when words just start spilling directly from my brain into the world, I sent a message: "Would you like to go for coffee on Friday?" I even gave times when I was available, times on other days if Friday didn't exactly work out. Twenty four hours later, there was still no word. It wasn't until the day after that, when we were chatting about the mundane topic of classes (a conversation that I had started up, albeit on Facebook--as usual), I snuck in a strategic, "So is Friday a no-go?" The answer was as expected.

For a while, I hoped that we may take the same class. We were shopping the same government class, and we met up at a meeting for the Harvard Political Review. Both of us are planning to write articles for the publication, and from the way things look now it seems pretty plausible that we'll be seeing each other at least once a week, in the meeting room. Part of me still wants to break the barrier, to strike up conversation, and perhaps to re-extend that coffee offer. But part of me--a part that's been nagging all along, a part that has compared our intellects and found mine to be far inferior, a part that constantly scolded the overjoyed side of me throughout those few weeks of "attraction"--that part knows that it'll probably come to nothing.

And that's where we stand right now.
And though it had never really had the time to grow into anything in the first place, there's still a sinking feeling when I realize that the "seed" hidden "far beneath the bitter snows" is perpetually frozen, never to make it to the Spring.
#BetteMidler #ohgod #sosappy #thisisneithertwitternortumblrwhyhashtags


Speaking of tumblr... Some recent posts in which I wallow in self-pity:
http://kenmeows.tumblr.com/post/16807201285/simplementconfondu-accurate-if-i-were


http://kenmeows.tumblr.com/post/16852920227



Aaaaaaaand we're done.

Tiger Mom

“I value cosmopolitanism, and to make sure the girls are exposed to different cultures, Jed and I have always taken them with us everywhere we traveled—even though, whenthe girls were little, we sometimes had to sleep in one bed to make it affordable. As a result, by the time they were twelve and nine, the girls had been to London, Paris, Nice, Rome, Venice, Milan, Amsterdam, the Hague, Barcelona, Madrid, Málaga, Lichtenstein, Monaco, Munich, Dublin, Brussels, Bruges, Strasbourg, Beijing, Shanghai, Tokyo, Hong Kong, Manila, Istanbul, Mexico City, Cancún, Buenos Aires, Santiago, Rio de Janeiro, São Paolo, La Paz, Sucre, Cochambamba, Jamaica, Tangier, Fez, Johannesburg, Cape Town, and the Rock of Gibraltar.” Amy Chua, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, pg 86-87.

In my eighteen years of life, I’ve been to Los Angeles, San Diego, Seattle, Las Vegas, Vancouver, Boston, New York, Ithaca [lol], Hong Kong, Shenzhen, Guangzhou, Heyuan, and Beijing. Under 15 places in 18 years, compared to almost 40 in 12 or 9 years—and those are just the cities OUTSIDE the U.S.

When I’m reading Amy Chua’s book, the feelings I experience are somewhat…complex. I’m surely not reading it and seeing anything particularly shocking; indeed, her conduct is that which I expect from a strict, traditional, Asian mother.

A fact that struck me as particularly interesting was that a) Chua is probably as old as my mother and father; all three were born in the Year of the Tiger in 1962 [indeed, she’s a month younger than my dad] and b) Sophia is the same age as I am. And yet, reading about her, she is clearly much more talented, much more motivated, and much more adept at a variety of subjects and disciplines than I could ever imagine being.

My dad is definitely Western by Chua’s definitions—he’s fairly lax and allows us to do as we wish, because he believes that ultimately it’s up to us to forge our own way through life. The only Chinese-styled parenting I see from him is his [rightful] refusal to praise us in public—or even at home, sometimes. My mother is comparatively more traditional. I sometimes think that she would have liked to be a tiger mom, and given better work and living circumstances, I’m sure she would have followed in Chua’s footsteps. At the moment, she’s reading the Chinese version of the book [which I thoughtfully bought for my parents as a Christmas present] and exclaiming that she was never as harsh as Chua, and now she cites excerpts as justification for things like prohibiting sleepovers.

When I’m reading this, I wonder if the reason I’m so mediocre—in math, in music, in Chinese, in everything—is because my parents didn’t have the time (or the heart) to drill me as hard as Chua did with her daughters. Compared to many people—including many of my thoroughly Western classmates both at Harvard and in high school—I’m very unmotivated, lazy, stupid. I’m not very good at my passion of learning languages because, as my attempt to excuse myself goes, I’m just naturally bad at memorizing vocab. But sometimes, I wonder if it’s just because I’m being far too easy on myself. If I just drill myself, if I do more rote memorization, if I practice my strokes in Chinese and my conjugations in Spanish and French, German and Italian, could I not reach the same level of competency and fluency as someone like Krister could?

And then there are times when I reminisce about missed opportunities. My only formal piano lessons happened when I was seven years old. Even then, my lessons weren’t one-on-one; they occurred at the teacher’s house, where he taught classes of 15 or so kids really, really basic tunes. The extent of practice I put in at home was practically negligible. Right now, I’m seeing the same pattern of practice [or rather, lack thereof] in my sister, albeit with the violin. Her report card for Orchestra came home as merely “Satisfactory”, the middle grade, rather than “Outstanding”. The key reason, I suspect, is because of her lack of at home practice (duly noted on the report card) and the lack of any real improvement (also noted on said report card). And despite my attempts to tell her to practice [“You need to do at least half an hour every day you don’t have Orchestra”—a feat insanely dwarfed by Lulu and Sophia’s schedules] she never does it, and I, supposedly lost in my own “busy” [selfish] life, never follow through.

When I read the part about the three-generation deterioration of the Chinese immigrant family, something immediately stuck out to me. Even though I belonged to the second generation—aka Amy Chua’s generation, the first generation American—I identified more with the third generation. Sure, I’m relatively disciplined, and I’m attending an Ivy League—but at the same time, I’m extremely privileged, extremely pampered, and extremely lazy and un-self-motivated. And when I read that, I think, would I have turned out differently had my parents been Chua’s stereotypical strict immigrant parents? Would my possibly innate talents in language and other fields have blossomed more rapidly, more perfectly? And most of all, would I be more confident in myself?

Of course, I’m grateful for the freedoms I have. I’m allowed to do basically anything I want. My father said today that he will support me whatever major I declare, as long as it’s something I enjoy. And my mother has compromised by saying that psychology, at least, might be somewhat useful and lucrative [she’s still intent on me eventually obtaining a law and/or business degree, because “You’re going to Harvard, after all. Why not study the thing that Harvard’s best at? Study law!”]. But part of me wonders if the reason I can’t imagine living without these privileges is due to the fact that I’ve never had to live without them, that I’ve never really been forced to do something that I didn’t want to, that I’ve never been deprived of them—and I wonder if that in turn has deprived me of some other opportunities.

Oh well. Thoughts, thoughts. Ultimately, I try to minimize the influence that Tiger Chua is having on my own hibernating-Tiger mom, telling her that “Yes, she did do those things, and she didn’t allow her daughters to do those other things, but in the end, she says she regrets a lot! Just read on!” Truthfully, I don’t remember if Chua admits to being regretful at all—after all, both daughters turned out wonderful. And the most ironic part of it is that I myself show Tiger tendencies when I scold my sister. Indeed, already I can imagine being a Tiger Dad myself—drilling in classical music [piano and/or some sort of orchestral instrument, stringed or woodwind], finding tutors in foreign languages [Chinese at a minimum, hopefully Spanish, French, Italian, Portuguese, Catalan, German, Japanese, Arabic, Farsi, Russian, Latin, and Greek; in short, the few languages that I myself want to master eventually.], and tons tons tons of math, reading, and writing practice. I want kids who will get perfect 2400s on the SAT and 36s on the ACT (feats that I myself was unable to accomplish)—all while probably married to a skeptical Westerner (hopefully at least one who actually wants children).

In short, I admire Amy Chua. I certainly think that she’s far too strict, and right now I wouldn’t want her controlling my life. But her ability to stay strong and maintain ground in front of the children she loves—that, at least, is a trait to be admired.

Alright, time to get back to reading.