Yesterday night on the phone with my (awesome) boyfriend, I realized that I, that we, have less than three weeks until...I move to California, to college, to my new life. For good. Damn, that was a shock.
Making the decision to go away for college three months ago, I thought twice about moving away, but not thrice. I had been held captive in this tiny apartment, this sheltered and overprotected life, for too long, and I couldn't wait to get away for college to start over. Now, with California less than three weeks away, it's all too soon for comfort.
My boyfriend and I have decided to try out the long distance thing because we can see a potential future together, but what if it gets too hard and it hurts terribly when we end it, three thousand miles away from each other on the phone? What if I don't make new friends, and my best friends back here can't comfort me because they're three thousand miles away? What if I find out that my drive and intelligence are nothing at college? What if I just plain hate it? Damn, this is scary.
After hyperventilating about it for a while, I decided...I can't do anything about it now. I'll find out soon enough how college will be, and I'll deal with it then. Until then, I have less than three weeks to spend time with everyone, to spend time in the city that I love and call home.
Take care,
Amy
Monday, July 28, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
California
My apologies for not blogging in almost two weeks...I was busy at orientation in California, and then I was busy re-orienting myself in Chicago haha.
Orientation in California was exhausting. They packed so much into two days. To be honest, I was a bit disappointed, which worries me. I was disappointed not with the staff, not with the campus, not with my classes. I was disappointed with the students. I had heard rumors that the students at my university could be a bit shallow, but I didn't think much of it...until I started to think otherwise at orientation. There were plenty of just gorgeous skinny white girls. Now, I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with gorgeous skinny white girls - there was more to it. The second day at lunch, when we were set loose to sit wherever and with whoever we wanted, I looked around, and I thought...cliques. There were tables of gorgeous white people sitting with other gorgeous white people. Then there were pretty diverse and mixed tables. It bothers me to think that I'll feel like I'm in high school again, where groups are based on looks and not interests, where we don't delve deeper than skin deep in establishing connections with people, where we never learn about cultures different than our own.
Many of my friends have assured me that orientation is just a tiny slice, and probably not entirely accurate, of what my experience in college will be. After all, it was only maybe 1/7 of the freshman class. And it was only two days. Hopefully they'll be right.
Take care,
Amy
Orientation in California was exhausting. They packed so much into two days. To be honest, I was a bit disappointed, which worries me. I was disappointed not with the staff, not with the campus, not with my classes. I was disappointed with the students. I had heard rumors that the students at my university could be a bit shallow, but I didn't think much of it...until I started to think otherwise at orientation. There were plenty of just gorgeous skinny white girls. Now, I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with gorgeous skinny white girls - there was more to it. The second day at lunch, when we were set loose to sit wherever and with whoever we wanted, I looked around, and I thought...cliques. There were tables of gorgeous white people sitting with other gorgeous white people. Then there were pretty diverse and mixed tables. It bothers me to think that I'll feel like I'm in high school again, where groups are based on looks and not interests, where we don't delve deeper than skin deep in establishing connections with people, where we never learn about cultures different than our own.
Many of my friends have assured me that orientation is just a tiny slice, and probably not entirely accurate, of what my experience in college will be. After all, it was only maybe 1/7 of the freshman class. And it was only two days. Hopefully they'll be right.
Take care,
Amy
Monday, July 14, 2008
I have red-blond hair!
Hello there...from a new red-blond!
Procrastinating for long enough so that more than an inch of black hair was showing at the top of my head, I finally decided it was time to dye my hair. So I made the short trek to my favorite hair salon, opened the red door of a residential house, climbed the stairs, and greeted my hairstylist. A new ten-gallon tank of goldfish also greeted me warmly.
I waited for my hairstylist to finish cutting an older woman's hair by reading my Time magazine with Chinese television in the background. In fifteen more minutes, the older woman stood up pleased with her quick yet stylish haircut and went off to her evening class.
We started like usual, with her pulling out her big book of hair color samples, us narrowing it down to a few, her choosing a good one for me, and me finally choosing, always, a different one. She would mix a large amount of the dye for my long hair, filling the one-room salon with a burning chemical smell. Then she set to work carefully brushing the lotion mixture through my hair, spending over half an hour making sure all of my hair was covered liberally. During this time, she would turn my chair so I could watch the television while she listened, and we would laugh at the funny parts together. When I didn't understand something in Chinese that was funny, she would explain it to me so I could laugh too.
Then, while I waited for the lotion mixture to do its thing, I would watch television while she cut someone else's hair. Today, her tiny and cute five-year-old daughter wanted to show off her new dance class dress with a tutu.
After washing the lotion mixture out of my hair, she would blow-dry my hair straight, revealing the new color. Today, I saw a color lighter than any I had done before, but I liked it and smiled while she finished blow-drying my hair.
I don't think I'll ever go blond, but I'm pretty close right now, and I like it. It's thrilling, bordering on the dangerous territory of being a blond Asian.
At the end, I asked her how much in Chinese, and she replied also in Chinese, "thirty five". If you've ever gotten your hair dyed, you know that's a deal. Also consider that I have time-consuming super-long hair hanging down past my chest, that I learned some new Chinese, and that her daughter is endearingly amusing, and that's why the salon on the second floor of a residential house is my favorite hair salon.
Take care,
Amy
Procrastinating for long enough so that more than an inch of black hair was showing at the top of my head, I finally decided it was time to dye my hair. So I made the short trek to my favorite hair salon, opened the red door of a residential house, climbed the stairs, and greeted my hairstylist. A new ten-gallon tank of goldfish also greeted me warmly.
I waited for my hairstylist to finish cutting an older woman's hair by reading my Time magazine with Chinese television in the background. In fifteen more minutes, the older woman stood up pleased with her quick yet stylish haircut and went off to her evening class.
We started like usual, with her pulling out her big book of hair color samples, us narrowing it down to a few, her choosing a good one for me, and me finally choosing, always, a different one. She would mix a large amount of the dye for my long hair, filling the one-room salon with a burning chemical smell. Then she set to work carefully brushing the lotion mixture through my hair, spending over half an hour making sure all of my hair was covered liberally. During this time, she would turn my chair so I could watch the television while she listened, and we would laugh at the funny parts together. When I didn't understand something in Chinese that was funny, she would explain it to me so I could laugh too.
Then, while I waited for the lotion mixture to do its thing, I would watch television while she cut someone else's hair. Today, her tiny and cute five-year-old daughter wanted to show off her new dance class dress with a tutu.
After washing the lotion mixture out of my hair, she would blow-dry my hair straight, revealing the new color. Today, I saw a color lighter than any I had done before, but I liked it and smiled while she finished blow-drying my hair.
I don't think I'll ever go blond, but I'm pretty close right now, and I like it. It's thrilling, bordering on the dangerous territory of being a blond Asian.
At the end, I asked her how much in Chinese, and she replied also in Chinese, "thirty five". If you've ever gotten your hair dyed, you know that's a deal. Also consider that I have time-consuming super-long hair hanging down past my chest, that I learned some new Chinese, and that her daughter is endearingly amusing, and that's why the salon on the second floor of a residential house is my favorite hair salon.
Take care,
Amy
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Hello, blogspot.com!
Between the conclusion of one tremendous stage of my life and the beginning of another even greater, I felt it appropriate to start a new blog to document this next stage. So...hello there! My name is Amy, but I thought it would be more interesting to spell it as "Amie" because it looks much more similar to "Amiable" than "Amy" does. By the way, if I ever become a waitress, I envision myself making lots of tips by introducing myself as "Hi, my name is Amy, and I will be your amiable waitress today."
That reminds me: I try to be funny, but I think I make myself laugh a lot more than I've ever made anyone else laugh. So you can expect really bad jokes from me...but if you ever think I'm funny, then feel free and laugh with me! I love laughing.
Anyway, the stages of my life that I am currently hanging out between are high school and college, living in Chicago and moving to Los Angeles, the teen years and adulthood.
One reason I chose USC (University of Southern California) is for the vibrant Asian American community on campus and in Los Angeles, so it's ironic that I'm spending this summer discovering everything about the Asian American community right here in Chicago. The Asian American Institute's Impact Fellows Program has exposed so much about the community and culture to me, and I feel like I'm starting to really establish my identity as an Asian-American woman. More about that at another time, though. Trust me, there will be plenty about that.
I browsed through the Magnificent Mile Art Fair with my friends yesterday, and all the electric, intense, surprising, amusing, and beautiful art led me to desire money from my future career. (The most interesting pieces were anywhere from $300 to $1500.) Isn't it ironic that artists who sacrifice financial stability make me want financial success so I can buy from them?
I watched Miss Universe tonight, and I felt deeply disappointed at the end of the two-hour program. We picked Miss Venezuela because she looks sexy in a swimsuit, looks elegant in a gown, and answers a question decently in thirty seconds. That was it. No talent competition, no demonstration of a desire to positively affect the world, nothing of that sort.
I start my internship portion of the Impact Fellows Program at the Illinois Department of Human Services tomorrow...wish me luck!
Take care,
Amy
That reminds me: I try to be funny, but I think I make myself laugh a lot more than I've ever made anyone else laugh. So you can expect really bad jokes from me...but if you ever think I'm funny, then feel free and laugh with me! I love laughing.
Anyway, the stages of my life that I am currently hanging out between are high school and college, living in Chicago and moving to Los Angeles, the teen years and adulthood.
One reason I chose USC (University of Southern California) is for the vibrant Asian American community on campus and in Los Angeles, so it's ironic that I'm spending this summer discovering everything about the Asian American community right here in Chicago. The Asian American Institute's Impact Fellows Program has exposed so much about the community and culture to me, and I feel like I'm starting to really establish my identity as an Asian-American woman. More about that at another time, though. Trust me, there will be plenty about that.
I browsed through the Magnificent Mile Art Fair with my friends yesterday, and all the electric, intense, surprising, amusing, and beautiful art led me to desire money from my future career. (The most interesting pieces were anywhere from $300 to $1500.) Isn't it ironic that artists who sacrifice financial stability make me want financial success so I can buy from them?
I watched Miss Universe tonight, and I felt deeply disappointed at the end of the two-hour program. We picked Miss Venezuela because she looks sexy in a swimsuit, looks elegant in a gown, and answers a question decently in thirty seconds. That was it. No talent competition, no demonstration of a desire to positively affect the world, nothing of that sort.
I start my internship portion of the Impact Fellows Program at the Illinois Department of Human Services tomorrow...wish me luck!
Take care,
Amy
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