I have MOVED my blog to WordPress.
I will not be posting here anymore. Instead I will post on my new WordPress blog! Link here!
Also, I will be re-posting all of my old posts there everyday. So if you check the site and there is suddenly a bombardment of posts that you've maybe read before, that's why!
Anyway, I'll still be posting every Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday. But it won't be here. It'll be on WordPress– HERE!
I just didn't like Blogspot all that much. It was hard to customize and just... I don't know, boring and plain. It's also a bit hard to work with. WordPress gave me more options and the blog looks amazing!
Come find me on my brand-newly remade blog!
P.S. I won't be posting tomorrow (Wednesday Aug. 19) because I'll be busy setting up the new and pretty blog. Sorry!
Tuesday 18 August 2015
Sunday 16 August 2015
I feel like I've been talking about my struggles with writing a book way too much lately, but it's the only thing on my mind.
I didn't really realize how hard it would be to write a book. I have the idea and I have the words, but putting everything together is just a different story. The worst part about writing a book right now is that I am the only one reading it. I can't tell if it's good or if it's total crap. I just don't know...
Because I chose to write a young adult dystopian with a hint of mystery, it is ten times more difficult. I don't know if you've ever thought about this, but it's extremely hard to plot mysteries. You have to leave just enough breadcrumbs to keep things going, but you can't leave a whole bag of crumbs because then you'll be giving too much away.
Lately my excuse for not wanting to do something is "I'm trying to plot a plan to steer someone in the wrong direction" or "I'm trying to figure out a way to make so-and-so think someone else is the bad guy". One time I even told someone I couldn't do something because I was too busy "plotting against the government". It's funny to see people's reactions to my excuses, especially when they have absolutely no clue what I'm talking about and don't know I'm writing a dystopian. Even though I'm saying I'm doing these things, I'm not really plotting anything. I just don't know where to start sometimes, and I just sit at my desk, staring blankly at my laptop screen and hoping something will come to me.
Also, I thought about putting up a chapter or two here to see how great/terrible my story is so far, but you guys never talk to me so it'd be pointless. But at the same time, I want to know what people, strangers who don't really know me, think about my story and my writing.
I don't know... For now though, I think the plans to mess with my main character is starting to come together. But really, I'm just going with the flow. I don't really know if that's a good thing or not.
Anyway, hope your week will go well!
I didn't really realize how hard it would be to write a book. I have the idea and I have the words, but putting everything together is just a different story. The worst part about writing a book right now is that I am the only one reading it. I can't tell if it's good or if it's total crap. I just don't know...
Because I chose to write a young adult dystopian with a hint of mystery, it is ten times more difficult. I don't know if you've ever thought about this, but it's extremely hard to plot mysteries. You have to leave just enough breadcrumbs to keep things going, but you can't leave a whole bag of crumbs because then you'll be giving too much away.
Lately my excuse for not wanting to do something is "I'm trying to plot a plan to steer someone in the wrong direction" or "I'm trying to figure out a way to make so-and-so think someone else is the bad guy". One time I even told someone I couldn't do something because I was too busy "plotting against the government". It's funny to see people's reactions to my excuses, especially when they have absolutely no clue what I'm talking about and don't know I'm writing a dystopian. Even though I'm saying I'm doing these things, I'm not really plotting anything. I just don't know where to start sometimes, and I just sit at my desk, staring blankly at my laptop screen and hoping something will come to me.
Also, I thought about putting up a chapter or two here to see how great/terrible my story is so far, but you guys never talk to me so it'd be pointless. But at the same time, I want to know what people, strangers who don't really know me, think about my story and my writing.
I don't know... For now though, I think the plans to mess with my main character is starting to come together. But really, I'm just going with the flow. I don't really know if that's a good thing or not.
Anyway, hope your week will go well!
Friday 14 August 2015
You know that one super annoying person who's always tapping their foot, or pencil/finger on the table during an exam? Well, today I suffered something much worse; I had to sit through an hour and a half exam in which the person behind me literally sighed heavily for an hour and a half straight. I am not kidding. I almost killed someone in there today (just kidding).
Up till noon today, everything was terrible, but the worst part was the sighing person in the exam.
First, I had to wake up at 7:30 (for those who know me I usually wake up at 12, so 7:30 is like my midnight for me, and I'm still asleep). I had to leave the house at 8:30 to commute to the university I was going to this fall to write an academic placement test. Long story short, I got an email in July saying that if I didn't have AP english credits I would have to take this additional test. I was never informed that I needed to take AP english, so I got screwed over a little.
So I left the house at 8:20 because my bus came at eight-thirty something. So I'd be at the bus stop at least 10 minutes. Great, right? No. I just turned the corner of my street (like my house/home street) and I helplessly watched the bus zoom by and leave. Without me! If only I were five steps faster. Ugh! I didn't have enough time to wait half an hour for the next bus (yes the bus/transit system here sucks real bad), so I thought I'd walked one full block (like 1 kilometer, I think) to the other bus stop and take the other bus (because both buses went to the skytrain station). 1 km is no walk-in-the-park. It was really far, and I was tromping along in my heeled ankle boots, speed-walking like there's no tomorrow. But if I missed the test, there would be no tomorrow. I walked all the way to the next stop and I missed that bus too!
It's stupid, really. I have to commute an hour and fifteen minutes to a place that's only 30 minutes away if I drove. But because of the stupid transit system, it takes almost 3 times as long to get there.
First I had to wake up early, then I missed 2 buses. You thought the day couldn't get any worse. It did though.
I walked into the test, and I swear, the second the supervisor was like "Go, start your test" the person sitting behind me starting sighing. The kind of sigh that sounds tired and like you don't want to be there. I managed to block out her noise while reading the passages, but after I finished reading and started thinking about what to write for my essay, all I could hear was her sighing again! Yes, I get it, you didn't want to be there, neither did I, but you didn't hear me sighing so heavily that people outside of the school and across the street could hear. It's like she disregarded everyone around her.
It's one thing to have a tapper in the exam room, it's another to have a sigher. I swear to the Stars, I was going to turn around and be like "are you fucking kidding me right now?" but I didn't because I didn't have the supervisors to think I was cheating or something. But seriously, I wanted to punch her in the face so bad, you don't even know. I couldn't think properly with her sighing as background noise. Her sigh was so miserable and loud, but I'm pretty sure she wasn't the only one miserable in there; everyone else was miserable too, but for a different reason, if you know what I mean. Every two seconds she would sigh, then take two seconds to draw in another breath to sigh out. Ugh! I internally sighed "shut the fuck up". I did it internally because I didn't want to be like her, sighing to the point where people couldn't think straight. She didn't sound like she had a cold or stuffy nose. Like literally, it sounded like she was forcefully and purposely sighing out loud to project her misery.
Next time you're writing a test, be mindful of the people around you. You might unconsciously sigh continuously like the girl sitting behind me today; don't be her. Even though you don't want to be writing the test, keep in mind that you have to do it, so you might as well do it without making everyone any more miserable than they already are. If you're not that annoyingly noisy person during a test but somehow always end up sitting near a tapper or maybe even a sigher, may luck be on your side.
Up till noon today, everything was terrible, but the worst part was the sighing person in the exam.
First, I had to wake up at 7:30 (for those who know me I usually wake up at 12, so 7:30 is like my midnight for me, and I'm still asleep). I had to leave the house at 8:30 to commute to the university I was going to this fall to write an academic placement test. Long story short, I got an email in July saying that if I didn't have AP english credits I would have to take this additional test. I was never informed that I needed to take AP english, so I got screwed over a little.
So I left the house at 8:20 because my bus came at eight-thirty something. So I'd be at the bus stop at least 10 minutes. Great, right? No. I just turned the corner of my street (like my house/home street) and I helplessly watched the bus zoom by and leave. Without me! If only I were five steps faster. Ugh! I didn't have enough time to wait half an hour for the next bus (yes the bus/transit system here sucks real bad), so I thought I'd walked one full block (like 1 kilometer, I think) to the other bus stop and take the other bus (because both buses went to the skytrain station). 1 km is no walk-in-the-park. It was really far, and I was tromping along in my heeled ankle boots, speed-walking like there's no tomorrow. But if I missed the test, there would be no tomorrow. I walked all the way to the next stop and I missed that bus too!
It's stupid, really. I have to commute an hour and fifteen minutes to a place that's only 30 minutes away if I drove. But because of the stupid transit system, it takes almost 3 times as long to get there.
First I had to wake up early, then I missed 2 buses. You thought the day couldn't get any worse. It did though.
I walked into the test, and I swear, the second the supervisor was like "Go, start your test" the person sitting behind me starting sighing. The kind of sigh that sounds tired and like you don't want to be there. I managed to block out her noise while reading the passages, but after I finished reading and started thinking about what to write for my essay, all I could hear was her sighing again! Yes, I get it, you didn't want to be there, neither did I, but you didn't hear me sighing so heavily that people outside of the school and across the street could hear. It's like she disregarded everyone around her.
It's one thing to have a tapper in the exam room, it's another to have a sigher. I swear to the Stars, I was going to turn around and be like "are you fucking kidding me right now?" but I didn't because I didn't have the supervisors to think I was cheating or something. But seriously, I wanted to punch her in the face so bad, you don't even know. I couldn't think properly with her sighing as background noise. Her sigh was so miserable and loud, but I'm pretty sure she wasn't the only one miserable in there; everyone else was miserable too, but for a different reason, if you know what I mean. Every two seconds she would sigh, then take two seconds to draw in another breath to sigh out. Ugh! I internally sighed "shut the fuck up". I did it internally because I didn't want to be like her, sighing to the point where people couldn't think straight. She didn't sound like she had a cold or stuffy nose. Like literally, it sounded like she was forcefully and purposely sighing out loud to project her misery.
Next time you're writing a test, be mindful of the people around you. You might unconsciously sigh continuously like the girl sitting behind me today; don't be her. Even though you don't want to be writing the test, keep in mind that you have to do it, so you might as well do it without making everyone any more miserable than they already are. If you're not that annoyingly noisy person during a test but somehow always end up sitting near a tapper or maybe even a sigher, may luck be on your side.
Wednesday 12 August 2015
a super boring resume class...
Today, my mom told me she signed me up for some kind of resume-writing class (because I've been saying I'd look for a second job, but never actually did). I thought it'd be like a sit-and-listen kind of talk where there would be a lot of people and you could leave whenever you pleased.
So, I went to the library (where the class was held) and I couldn't find it. I had no freaking idea where it was; I thought I'd see this huge group of people. But nope. I asked the librarian and she directed me in the right direction. As I was approaching the room, I could see that there weren't that many people in there. Through the doorway, I could see two people, and another walking to a seat. In that moment, I thought, you know, I could just leave; maybe if I don't walk through the door, no one will know I'm not there. (My mom signed up herself and me for the class, and she had to register and stuff, so they'd have a list of who was attending.)
But my mom was going to join me in 10 minutes, so if I just left and didn't go in, she'd walk in and know. If the class was bigger, then she wouldn't know because I could have been sitting in the front or middle, and she'd be in the back.
I walked into the room with the biggest internal sigh in the history of the world. Guess what? There were only 4 people in the class! Ugh, now that I had walked through, I had to stay because they'd notice if someone was missing. There were only two tables and both were occupied. I took the seat off to the side, hoping no one would notice me (which is an extremely stupid thought since there were only 5 people in there plus the instructor, so 6).
When the talk started, the speaker was like "Welcome to Canada." I blinked hard and was like What the fuck? Welcome to Canada? Am I in the wrong room? Then he was like "in this class you will learn how to write a standard Canadian resume" and I thought to myself, aw, fuck... is it still too late to leave?
Then the speaker asked us all to introduce ourselves (I hate that the most because of anxiety and people looking at me when I speak). And to make things worse, he asked me to go first. Well, this is off to a fantastic start.
He asked me for my name and I told him without much of an internal struggle. Then he asked me how long I've been in Canada for. Dude, I was born here, so answering that question was kind of awkward. I told him I've been here since birth and accidentally blurted out that I was only here because my mom forced me to come. He was like "Okay... Glad to have you here?"
Then the other 4 people went and everyone was like "I've been in Canada for a month" or "I arrived nine months ago", etc. Oh man, was that awkward. My mom signed us up for an immigrant resume class. I guess it's not that awkward for other people, but if they were in my shoes, it would be damn awkward.
Within the first hour, a few more people came in, which was good because less attention on me. But the bad part was all of the additional people were also immigrants. So my mom and I were the only citizens in an immigrant-resume-writing class...
The talk was so freaking long. Throughout the whole two-hour talk, I kept thinking to myself, I will fucking shoot myself in the head; I want to smash my head against the wall; I want to slam the door against my head.
First off, the speaker had the most boring voice I've ever heard (I don't want to sound mean, but it's so true). Second, for every point (for example, what kind of font to use, or font size) he'd talk about it for ten minutes. Ugh!!!!....
I was whimpering in my head the whole time.
I know my mom had good intentions going into this, but I never want to go to any of these one-day classes or talks ever again. I get that my mom cares and wants to help, but sometimes, it's best to leave things for me to handle.
Today, my mom told me she signed me up for some kind of resume-writing class (because I've been saying I'd look for a second job, but never actually did). I thought it'd be like a sit-and-listen kind of talk where there would be a lot of people and you could leave whenever you pleased.
So, I went to the library (where the class was held) and I couldn't find it. I had no freaking idea where it was; I thought I'd see this huge group of people. But nope. I asked the librarian and she directed me in the right direction. As I was approaching the room, I could see that there weren't that many people in there. Through the doorway, I could see two people, and another walking to a seat. In that moment, I thought, you know, I could just leave; maybe if I don't walk through the door, no one will know I'm not there. (My mom signed up herself and me for the class, and she had to register and stuff, so they'd have a list of who was attending.)
But my mom was going to join me in 10 minutes, so if I just left and didn't go in, she'd walk in and know. If the class was bigger, then she wouldn't know because I could have been sitting in the front or middle, and she'd be in the back.
I walked into the room with the biggest internal sigh in the history of the world. Guess what? There were only 4 people in the class! Ugh, now that I had walked through, I had to stay because they'd notice if someone was missing. There were only two tables and both were occupied. I took the seat off to the side, hoping no one would notice me (which is an extremely stupid thought since there were only 5 people in there plus the instructor, so 6).
When the talk started, the speaker was like "Welcome to Canada." I blinked hard and was like What the fuck? Welcome to Canada? Am I in the wrong room? Then he was like "in this class you will learn how to write a standard Canadian resume" and I thought to myself, aw, fuck... is it still too late to leave?
Then the speaker asked us all to introduce ourselves (I hate that the most because of anxiety and people looking at me when I speak). And to make things worse, he asked me to go first. Well, this is off to a fantastic start.
He asked me for my name and I told him without much of an internal struggle. Then he asked me how long I've been in Canada for. Dude, I was born here, so answering that question was kind of awkward. I told him I've been here since birth and accidentally blurted out that I was only here because my mom forced me to come. He was like "Okay... Glad to have you here?"
Then the other 4 people went and everyone was like "I've been in Canada for a month" or "I arrived nine months ago", etc. Oh man, was that awkward. My mom signed us up for an immigrant resume class. I guess it's not that awkward for other people, but if they were in my shoes, it would be damn awkward.
Within the first hour, a few more people came in, which was good because less attention on me. But the bad part was all of the additional people were also immigrants. So my mom and I were the only citizens in an immigrant-resume-writing class...
The talk was so freaking long. Throughout the whole two-hour talk, I kept thinking to myself, I will fucking shoot myself in the head; I want to smash my head against the wall; I want to slam the door against my head.
First off, the speaker had the most boring voice I've ever heard (I don't want to sound mean, but it's so true). Second, for every point (for example, what kind of font to use, or font size) he'd talk about it for ten minutes. Ugh!!!!....
I was whimpering in my head the whole time.
I know my mom had good intentions going into this, but I never want to go to any of these one-day classes or talks ever again. I get that my mom cares and wants to help, but sometimes, it's best to leave things for me to handle.
Sunday 9 August 2015
When it comes to reading important things, I absolutely, 100% do not trust myself. It's one of those pet peeves I have (but it's like a pet peeve... against myself? I don't know... you know what I mean).
So I've graduated from high school and am on my way to university (this fall). A lot of important emails and whatnot has been coming in. These emails contain vital info about payments and orientation and blah, blah, blah.
When I'm reading these super vital emails, I'm going through it and thinking to myself Wait! You missed something! Go back. No wait, never mind. It's really strange, but I feel like the first time I read something is the most important. I can only read it for the first time once, and in that first time, I feel like I get the full impact of the writing. Once I've read it once and I read it again, it won't have the same effect. I know it's stupid to think this and the logic makes absolutely no sense, I truly believe this (I don't know why...). So when I read an important email (for example) for the first time, I will read it super slowly, so slow I get annoyed with myself, but I have to. I go through each line like I'm analyzing literature or something at school.
Then I finish reading it and I'm satisfied for a second before I start doubting myself. What if I skipped over something? What if I misread it? What if I took the news the wrong way? So many what if's flood my mind. I don't know what to think.
I will literally read something 10 times just to be sure I read everything correctly.
I do this for everything, not just super important emails from the university.
I do this when buying something online. I'll check over the credit card number like 5 times; I'll check my shipping address 10 times; and I'll check my order, way too intently, 100 times to make sure I ordered the right stuff at the right price and make sure that shipping is free and the taxes are right (because I'm crazy like that). I hate triple double-checking things (and so on) every time I buy something online. But there is no room for error. One mistake could mean my stuff gets shipped somewhere else or I get the wrong size or wrong item. I just can't have that! I can't!
I even read these posts several times to check spelling and scan for grammar mistakes. I don't even trust myself when writing this super chill/no pressure/amateur blog. I constantly worry over making a fool of myself over misspelling one little word or switching two words and sounding stupid. It shouldn't matter, I know, but I can't not relax.
I know I sound super dramatic and crazy (like why do I check over things so many fucking times?) and I know you probably think I'm mental or something, but I just can't trust myself to get things right the first time. I'm prone to making stupid, but world-ending mistakes. It's just the way things are.
So I've graduated from high school and am on my way to university (this fall). A lot of important emails and whatnot has been coming in. These emails contain vital info about payments and orientation and blah, blah, blah.
When I'm reading these super vital emails, I'm going through it and thinking to myself Wait! You missed something! Go back. No wait, never mind. It's really strange, but I feel like the first time I read something is the most important. I can only read it for the first time once, and in that first time, I feel like I get the full impact of the writing. Once I've read it once and I read it again, it won't have the same effect. I know it's stupid to think this and the logic makes absolutely no sense, I truly believe this (I don't know why...). So when I read an important email (for example) for the first time, I will read it super slowly, so slow I get annoyed with myself, but I have to. I go through each line like I'm analyzing literature or something at school.
Then I finish reading it and I'm satisfied for a second before I start doubting myself. What if I skipped over something? What if I misread it? What if I took the news the wrong way? So many what if's flood my mind. I don't know what to think.
I will literally read something 10 times just to be sure I read everything correctly.
I do this for everything, not just super important emails from the university.
I do this when buying something online. I'll check over the credit card number like 5 times; I'll check my shipping address 10 times; and I'll check my order, way too intently, 100 times to make sure I ordered the right stuff at the right price and make sure that shipping is free and the taxes are right (because I'm crazy like that). I hate triple double-checking things (and so on) every time I buy something online. But there is no room for error. One mistake could mean my stuff gets shipped somewhere else or I get the wrong size or wrong item. I just can't have that! I can't!
I even read these posts several times to check spelling and scan for grammar mistakes. I don't even trust myself when writing this super chill/no pressure/amateur blog. I constantly worry over making a fool of myself over misspelling one little word or switching two words and sounding stupid. It shouldn't matter, I know, but I can't not relax.
I know I sound super dramatic and crazy (like why do I check over things so many fucking times?) and I know you probably think I'm mental or something, but I just can't trust myself to get things right the first time. I'm prone to making stupid, but world-ending mistakes. It's just the way things are.
Friday 7 August 2015
Oh my goodness! I almost forgot to write today's blog post because I was too busy looking at stuff online. Seriously though, online shopping is addictive and disgusting, and I love it!
I have never, in my life, ever bought this much stuff in such a short time span. I've been on a shopping rampage for the past few weeks! If I had a YouTube channel, I would literally be doing haul videos every single fucking day; I've bought that much.
I don't know what's gotten into me. It's like school's over (high school is over forever), I'm working more hours, and suddenly I feel like I've won the lottery and am buying everything left and right.
It's uncontrollable. Every time I tell myself I am going to stop NOW! I see something else on sale and I'm like well, it is on sale.... so... just one more thing! I promise! "I promise" my ass. I've told myself "just one more thing" every day for the past few days.
But it's not my fault literally everything is on sale right now! I can't help it! There is sale after sale after sale! *sighs unnecessarily loud*
Just when I think I've gained some control, they pull me right back. It's like drugs (like blue crystal). I buy ONE thing that's on sale, and suddenly I'm hooked and addicted beyond repair. It's not like I have a lot of money to spare, in fact I'm going broke, but I keep thinking I have a money tree or something. Like every day, I'll go out, pick some ripe bills off my money tree and go shopping like there's no tomorrow.
I keep trying to justify that I'm buying this stuff for a good reason. Back to school stuff... Yes! exactly! I need a new bag. And shoes. And clothes. And maybe laptop? I just cleared out my shoes shelf/closet/I don't know what it's called. And I kid you not, everything does not fit and I only have 2 pairs of shoes (a pair of Converses and a pair of running shoes), that's it. Okay then... I don't have shoes, and I need shoes, so just one pair! Oh but wait! That one's on sale too! Just 2. 2! Seriously. I need to be more active but I don't have anything to track my activity. I'll just get a Fitbit Flex. It's still cheap... Right? Well, it's just one though... I've never had my own camera before... I should probably invest in one. But if I'm going to buy one, might as well not get a crappy one and get a decent one. Oh! That one is on sale! I have to get that now!
My excuses get lamer and lamer every time. I can't even handle myself.
Pull me out of this sludge! Please!!!
I've turned into a monster! I don't even know myself anymore. The old me would never buy stuff on a daily basis. Who am I?
I have never, in my life, ever bought this much stuff in such a short time span. I've been on a shopping rampage for the past few weeks! If I had a YouTube channel, I would literally be doing haul videos every single fucking day; I've bought that much.
I don't know what's gotten into me. It's like school's over (high school is over forever), I'm working more hours, and suddenly I feel like I've won the lottery and am buying everything left and right.
It's uncontrollable. Every time I tell myself I am going to stop NOW! I see something else on sale and I'm like well, it is on sale.... so... just one more thing! I promise! "I promise" my ass. I've told myself "just one more thing" every day for the past few days.
But it's not my fault literally everything is on sale right now! I can't help it! There is sale after sale after sale! *sighs unnecessarily loud*
Just when I think I've gained some control, they pull me right back. It's like drugs (like blue crystal). I buy ONE thing that's on sale, and suddenly I'm hooked and addicted beyond repair. It's not like I have a lot of money to spare, in fact I'm going broke, but I keep thinking I have a money tree or something. Like every day, I'll go out, pick some ripe bills off my money tree and go shopping like there's no tomorrow.
I keep trying to justify that I'm buying this stuff for a good reason. Back to school stuff... Yes! exactly! I need a new bag. And shoes. And clothes. And maybe laptop? I just cleared out my shoes shelf/closet/I don't know what it's called. And I kid you not, everything does not fit and I only have 2 pairs of shoes (a pair of Converses and a pair of running shoes), that's it. Okay then... I don't have shoes, and I need shoes, so just one pair! Oh but wait! That one's on sale too! Just 2. 2! Seriously. I need to be more active but I don't have anything to track my activity. I'll just get a Fitbit Flex. It's still cheap... Right? Well, it's just one though... I've never had my own camera before... I should probably invest in one. But if I'm going to buy one, might as well not get a crappy one and get a decent one. Oh! That one is on sale! I have to get that now!
My excuses get lamer and lamer every time. I can't even handle myself.
Pull me out of this sludge! Please!!!
I've turned into a monster! I don't even know myself anymore. The old me would never buy stuff on a daily basis. Who am I?
Wednesday 5 August 2015
I'm no good when it comes to talking to people because it puts me under pressure.
A few days back, I was at the mall. I went into this store that was having a sale and picked out quite a few things to try on. This store is usually quite expensive and their sales are bleh (sometimes their "sale" means $1-10 off a $100 shirt or something crazy like that), but this sale has been proving to be a real sale. I found myself being lucky and finding hella good deals.
Anyways, I had a whole bunch of hangers hanging on my arm as I was looking at some clothes, and one of the sales people came up and asked if she could start a room for me. I was like okay, and she asked what my name was. I told her, and continued looking.
Then I went ahead to line up for the fitting rooms. The whole time I was standing there, I was planning out what to say, because the person manning the fitting rooms doesn't know someone already brought over my other clothes. I was like if she asks this question, I'll answer with this; if she asks that, I'll say that. It was my turn; I walked up to her and she asked a totally different question, one I had not anticipated.
First off, I've been in that store countless times over the years, and never has anyone asked if they could start a room for me. Second, she asked how many items I had (I had 2 in hand and the few the other employee took) and I had no freaking clue what to say. She didn't know someone took my other stuff, and I had no idea where that person went. So stammering, I was like "I have more stuff... um... someone took my stuff earlier... and, uh..." In reply, she said "okay, which ones are yours?" Huh? What? Where? I looked at her dumbly.
"Who took your stuff?" At this point, I was still staring at her with a stupid confused look on my face. "Uh... um... I don't see her," I said. But you know what? That other employee (the one who took my stuff earlier) just came into the fitting room and was standing right beside the lady interrogating me about my stuff. She was standing there to deliver more clothes from people around the store and she was watching this go down.
The lady (from the fitting room; not the person who took my stuff in the first place) pointed at the rack of clothes literally right in front of us (how did I not see it?!) and asked again which ones are mine. But because I was under all this pressure, and nervous as hell, I didn't comprehend her question. Suddenly I remembered the other girl asking me if she could start a room for me and asked for my name. So I thought, she must have made a name tag thing and grouped my clothes together with it. So in reply to "which ones are yours?" I said my name.
Ugh! The embarrassment! She gave me a weird side-glance look like what-the-hell. Then I finally understood and pointed at the clothes I picked out earlier.
Oh the shame is too real! I was mortified. How could I have possibly misunderstood that question so wrong? That's just one of the many, I mean infinite, examples of how I suck under pressure and at talking to... well... other humans.
A few days back, I was at the mall. I went into this store that was having a sale and picked out quite a few things to try on. This store is usually quite expensive and their sales are bleh (sometimes their "sale" means $1-10 off a $100 shirt or something crazy like that), but this sale has been proving to be a real sale. I found myself being lucky and finding hella good deals.
Anyways, I had a whole bunch of hangers hanging on my arm as I was looking at some clothes, and one of the sales people came up and asked if she could start a room for me. I was like okay, and she asked what my name was. I told her, and continued looking.
Then I went ahead to line up for the fitting rooms. The whole time I was standing there, I was planning out what to say, because the person manning the fitting rooms doesn't know someone already brought over my other clothes. I was like if she asks this question, I'll answer with this; if she asks that, I'll say that. It was my turn; I walked up to her and she asked a totally different question, one I had not anticipated.
First off, I've been in that store countless times over the years, and never has anyone asked if they could start a room for me. Second, she asked how many items I had (I had 2 in hand and the few the other employee took) and I had no freaking clue what to say. She didn't know someone took my other stuff, and I had no idea where that person went. So stammering, I was like "I have more stuff... um... someone took my stuff earlier... and, uh..." In reply, she said "okay, which ones are yours?" Huh? What? Where? I looked at her dumbly.
"Who took your stuff?" At this point, I was still staring at her with a stupid confused look on my face. "Uh... um... I don't see her," I said. But you know what? That other employee (the one who took my stuff earlier) just came into the fitting room and was standing right beside the lady interrogating me about my stuff. She was standing there to deliver more clothes from people around the store and she was watching this go down.
The lady (from the fitting room; not the person who took my stuff in the first place) pointed at the rack of clothes literally right in front of us (how did I not see it?!) and asked again which ones are mine. But because I was under all this pressure, and nervous as hell, I didn't comprehend her question. Suddenly I remembered the other girl asking me if she could start a room for me and asked for my name. So I thought, she must have made a name tag thing and grouped my clothes together with it. So in reply to "which ones are yours?" I said my name.
Ugh! The embarrassment! She gave me a weird side-glance look like what-the-hell. Then I finally understood and pointed at the clothes I picked out earlier.
Oh the shame is too real! I was mortified. How could I have possibly misunderstood that question so wrong? That's just one of the many, I mean infinite, examples of how I suck under pressure and at talking to... well... other humans.
Sunday 2 August 2015
I know I'm that person that freaks out and is all dramatic over a little itty bitty spider, but this time I'm not being irrational and I'm not exaggerating.
Anyways, story time!
So about 2 or 3 nights ago (I don't remember), I was in the bathroom wiping off my makeup. It was like 2am (I was still awake because I'm a night owl). I've just cleaned one eye and had started on the other when all of the sudden I saw this black blur cross my vision. Since I was wiping my eyes, everything was blurry and I couldn't see anything. Quickly, I grabbed a fistful of toilet paper to clean my eyes and so that I could actually see. My heart was now in my throat because I was like what the fuck was that?!
I kid you not, this big-ass bug, like a little under an inch and a half, fell out of nowhere and fell into the sink in front of me. I still don't know what kind of bug that was but I don't want to know; it was ugly and big and black-red-brown-ish. I think maybe it was a cockroach, but I don't know for sure.
Now I was screaming on the inside. Holy shit! Holy shit! What the hell?! I couldn't freak out and scream out loud because everyone was asleep. There I was silent-screaming, heartbeat in throat, and sweating like I just exercised. Oh my goodness, what do I do? Ewwww!!!!!!!!! I thought about killing it with the tissue I was using to clean my eyes, but I didn't want to leave my hand exposed. What if I went in to squish it and it jumped onto my hand or something?
Okay, where the fuck is the rubber glove! I know my mom stores rubber gloves somewhere in the bathroom for cleaning. I frantically searched the drawers like a mad person, and I found the glove. Everything from the beginning till now happened in 10 seconds. I put the glove on my right hand and it didn't fit right. I grabbed the left glove, but whatever, I ain't got time to be perfect.
Now with the glove on, I grabbed the toilet paper and tried to kill the bug. But I don't know if it was because I was so scared or if it was made of steel, but the bug just wouldn't die. I was freaking the fuck out. Oh my God! Oh my God!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I tried squishing it under the toilet paper like 5 times, and every time I lifted the paper, I had a mini heart attack because it would jump back up and try to crawl out of the sink.
It was halfway up the sink and I was on the verge of shitting myself. I quickly turned on the tap (why didn't I think of that sooner?!) and washed it down the drain. But for the first 3 seconds, it clung onto the edge of the sink flange thing and I thought for sure it was going to kill me before I could kill it. Then it was washed away, I guess it wasn't that strong after all. I kept the water going for another few minutes in case it was clinging onto the wall of the pipe and would crawl out once the water stopped. Then I put in the sink plug and filled the sink with water, and then let all the water go flooding down the drain. I know I wasted a lot, like way too much water, but it was an emergency!
I still have absolutely no freaking idea where it came from. Every time I go into the bathroom, or any room for that matter, I ALWAYS check the walls, ceiling, and floor for bugs (because I'm that paranoid). I went into the bathroom that night and all the walls, everything, was clean. My theory is that the ugly-ass bug came down from the vent thing in the ceiling of the bathroom. It's the only theory that makes sense. I've never seen that kind of bug in the house or anywhere, so it probably accidentally fell out of the vent. But the vent thing wasn't directly over the sink; it's directly over where you'd stand to be in front of the sink. Get what I'm saying? The stupid, gross bug probably FELL ON MY HEAD FIRST BEFORE LANDING IN THE SINK!!!!!!!!!!!!
Since that nightmarish experience, I haven't stood directly under the vent thing unless I absolutely had to. I am traumatized! I can never go into the bathroom again without being paranoid about another bug falling on my head and scaring me shitless.
Anyways, story time!
So about 2 or 3 nights ago (I don't remember), I was in the bathroom wiping off my makeup. It was like 2am (I was still awake because I'm a night owl). I've just cleaned one eye and had started on the other when all of the sudden I saw this black blur cross my vision. Since I was wiping my eyes, everything was blurry and I couldn't see anything. Quickly, I grabbed a fistful of toilet paper to clean my eyes and so that I could actually see. My heart was now in my throat because I was like what the fuck was that?!
I kid you not, this big-ass bug, like a little under an inch and a half, fell out of nowhere and fell into the sink in front of me. I still don't know what kind of bug that was but I don't want to know; it was ugly and big and black-red-brown-ish. I think maybe it was a cockroach, but I don't know for sure.
Now I was screaming on the inside. Holy shit! Holy shit! What the hell?! I couldn't freak out and scream out loud because everyone was asleep. There I was silent-screaming, heartbeat in throat, and sweating like I just exercised. Oh my goodness, what do I do? Ewwww!!!!!!!!! I thought about killing it with the tissue I was using to clean my eyes, but I didn't want to leave my hand exposed. What if I went in to squish it and it jumped onto my hand or something?
Okay, where the fuck is the rubber glove! I know my mom stores rubber gloves somewhere in the bathroom for cleaning. I frantically searched the drawers like a mad person, and I found the glove. Everything from the beginning till now happened in 10 seconds. I put the glove on my right hand and it didn't fit right. I grabbed the left glove, but whatever, I ain't got time to be perfect.
Now with the glove on, I grabbed the toilet paper and tried to kill the bug. But I don't know if it was because I was so scared or if it was made of steel, but the bug just wouldn't die. I was freaking the fuck out. Oh my God! Oh my God!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I tried squishing it under the toilet paper like 5 times, and every time I lifted the paper, I had a mini heart attack because it would jump back up and try to crawl out of the sink.
It was halfway up the sink and I was on the verge of shitting myself. I quickly turned on the tap (why didn't I think of that sooner?!) and washed it down the drain. But for the first 3 seconds, it clung onto the edge of the sink flange thing and I thought for sure it was going to kill me before I could kill it. Then it was washed away, I guess it wasn't that strong after all. I kept the water going for another few minutes in case it was clinging onto the wall of the pipe and would crawl out once the water stopped. Then I put in the sink plug and filled the sink with water, and then let all the water go flooding down the drain. I know I wasted a lot, like way too much water, but it was an emergency!
I still have absolutely no freaking idea where it came from. Every time I go into the bathroom, or any room for that matter, I ALWAYS check the walls, ceiling, and floor for bugs (because I'm that paranoid). I went into the bathroom that night and all the walls, everything, was clean. My theory is that the ugly-ass bug came down from the vent thing in the ceiling of the bathroom. It's the only theory that makes sense. I've never seen that kind of bug in the house or anywhere, so it probably accidentally fell out of the vent. But the vent thing wasn't directly over the sink; it's directly over where you'd stand to be in front of the sink. Get what I'm saying? The stupid, gross bug probably FELL ON MY HEAD FIRST BEFORE LANDING IN THE SINK!!!!!!!!!!!!
Since that nightmarish experience, I haven't stood directly under the vent thing unless I absolutely had to. I am traumatized! I can never go into the bathroom again without being paranoid about another bug falling on my head and scaring me shitless.
Friday 31 July 2015
writing my "book".
I really don't know what to write about today because all I can think about is the "book". (I keep calling it a "book" because really, it's not a book yet, but I want it to be). All day, I've been thinking about what to write about on this blog, but I've got nothing. My mind keeps drifting back to the story that I'm finally writing after keeping it in my head for ages.
But writing the book isn't as easy as it seemed when it was just in my head. When it's in your head, everything's perfect and in order, and everything makes sense. When you actually start writing thought, it's a totally different story.
A week ago when I started writing, I got about 2 chapters (plus a prologue) in before being completely stuck. It's like you know exactly how everything will go in your head, then you start writing and nothing is coming together. The first 2 chapters just weren't what I wanted them to be. Everything was completely wrong, I didn't get it. I thought I wanted it to be this way, but it's just not working. After 2 days of just wondering where things went wrong and how I could fix it, I just decided it'd be way easier to start with a clean slate. I deleted everything and started over with a new approach. Then things started clicking.
I never really understood what authors meant when they said they'd write something and it didn't work at all. I used to think what do you mean? If it doesn't work, you can just fix it... Are you just being dramatic? But now I know. When something doesn't work, it doesn't work; no matter how hard you try to fix it, it won't work if it's not right.
That's how I've been feeling this past week. I'll write a chapter over night, be completely satisfied, then the next morning, figure it's just not right. I've rewrote so many things these last couple of days.
And it's hard to hold back and let your characters discover the world for themselves. Since I'm writing sci-fi/dystopian, I've been doing a lot of world building and creating all these little/big secrets about the world, and my main character doesn't know them yet, but as I'm writing, I'm writing the character through my eyes, not theirs. So when I go back to edit, it's all wrong. It's difficult because sometimes I forget things (like she doesn't know this is happening around her, or she doesn't understand that yet, etc.). It's so hard because I know so much about the world they live in and they don't know much about it. I always have to remind myself (constantly, like every few sentences) that they don't know, and they have to learn as they go.
So anyways, if you're planning to write a book, beware– this struggle is way too real.
I really don't know what to write about today because all I can think about is the "book". (I keep calling it a "book" because really, it's not a book yet, but I want it to be). All day, I've been thinking about what to write about on this blog, but I've got nothing. My mind keeps drifting back to the story that I'm finally writing after keeping it in my head for ages.
But writing the book isn't as easy as it seemed when it was just in my head. When it's in your head, everything's perfect and in order, and everything makes sense. When you actually start writing thought, it's a totally different story.
A week ago when I started writing, I got about 2 chapters (plus a prologue) in before being completely stuck. It's like you know exactly how everything will go in your head, then you start writing and nothing is coming together. The first 2 chapters just weren't what I wanted them to be. Everything was completely wrong, I didn't get it. I thought I wanted it to be this way, but it's just not working. After 2 days of just wondering where things went wrong and how I could fix it, I just decided it'd be way easier to start with a clean slate. I deleted everything and started over with a new approach. Then things started clicking.
I never really understood what authors meant when they said they'd write something and it didn't work at all. I used to think what do you mean? If it doesn't work, you can just fix it... Are you just being dramatic? But now I know. When something doesn't work, it doesn't work; no matter how hard you try to fix it, it won't work if it's not right.
That's how I've been feeling this past week. I'll write a chapter over night, be completely satisfied, then the next morning, figure it's just not right. I've rewrote so many things these last couple of days.
And it's hard to hold back and let your characters discover the world for themselves. Since I'm writing sci-fi/dystopian, I've been doing a lot of world building and creating all these little/big secrets about the world, and my main character doesn't know them yet, but as I'm writing, I'm writing the character through my eyes, not theirs. So when I go back to edit, it's all wrong. It's difficult because sometimes I forget things (like she doesn't know this is happening around her, or she doesn't understand that yet, etc.). It's so hard because I know so much about the world they live in and they don't know much about it. I always have to remind myself (constantly, like every few sentences) that they don't know, and they have to learn as they go.
So anyways, if you're planning to write a book, beware– this struggle is way too real.
Wednesday 29 July 2015
I'm an overthinker. It's a hard life when you're constantly doubting every single thing you do.
Every time I have a conversation with someone, even if it's just a two-sentence "conversation", I start over-analyzing it. Once the conversation is over, I'll start dissecting it. Why did I say that like that? Did it make sense grammatically? Did I seem weird asking that? Ugh, I responded to that question wrong! What if they think I'm weird because I kept stammering? They kept looking at me weird... Was there something on my face? They think I'm weird. Ugh, I don't think they liked me.
I will literally spend FOREVER going over the whole conversation, criticizing everything I said and did. I can't help it, it just happens. It would nice if just for once I'd finish a conversation and be done with it and move on. Lingering around, pondering over what I could have said or done differently isn't going to change anything, so why bother? But I care... every time.
But it's not just social interactions that I doubt and over think... It's everything I do.
When I leave the house for a run in the mornings, I walk out, turn on my music, and then stop. I stand in front of my house for a good minute going over everything I just did. Did I lock the door? Are all the windows closed? What if someone saw me closing all the windows and knows I'm leaving the house unattended and then they go in the steal stuff? What if I didn't lock the door properly? Then someone would have easy access to my house? Wait! Did I turn off the stove?! Wait! I haven't even used the stove today...
Sometimes the doubting starts way before I even leave the house. As I'm closing windows, I'm thinking to myself all the ways someone could come in through the window and break into my house. I keep psyching myself out and worrying over nothing. Sometimes I'll walk around the house twice to make sure everything is closed and turned off. Then I'll walk out and check the outside. I'll try my door several times to make sure it's locked.
When I go out to eat or when I take the bus, or just anywhere I go where I would sit down, before I leave that place or the bus or wherever, I'll look back and check to see if I forgot something. I'll take a quick peek under the table and around the seats. On the bus, as I walk out, I'll constantly look back to make sure I didn't drop something by accident. It's a constant worry– what if I left something behind? I try not to get too comfortable in restaurants or buses or even hotels. I don't want to risk losing something because I was careless. It's not so much losing something irreplaceable as it is losing something that is MINE. I don't want to be losing MY stuff.
At hotels, you know how some people like unpacking all their stuff and putting it in the drawers provided? I have never in my life done that. If I start getting comfortable and putting my stuff all over the place, when I go to pack up, I might forget something. When we leave hotels, it's like this whole obligation to myself that I have to make sure that we don't leave ANYTHING behind. I check under all the beds, the covers, behind curtains, drawers (even though we didn't use them), the bathroom, everything. I have to double check twice (so like 4 times in total). Even as I'm leaving the room, I feel uneasy, like what if I missed a spot?
But sometimes my over thinking isn't such a bad thing. I always retrieve missing things from dinner tables or bus seats or hotel bathrooms before they even go missing.
Still, it's hard to relax or go with the flow when you're constantly worrying over everything.
Every time I have a conversation with someone, even if it's just a two-sentence "conversation", I start over-analyzing it. Once the conversation is over, I'll start dissecting it. Why did I say that like that? Did it make sense grammatically? Did I seem weird asking that? Ugh, I responded to that question wrong! What if they think I'm weird because I kept stammering? They kept looking at me weird... Was there something on my face? They think I'm weird. Ugh, I don't think they liked me.
I will literally spend FOREVER going over the whole conversation, criticizing everything I said and did. I can't help it, it just happens. It would nice if just for once I'd finish a conversation and be done with it and move on. Lingering around, pondering over what I could have said or done differently isn't going to change anything, so why bother? But I care... every time.
But it's not just social interactions that I doubt and over think... It's everything I do.
When I leave the house for a run in the mornings, I walk out, turn on my music, and then stop. I stand in front of my house for a good minute going over everything I just did. Did I lock the door? Are all the windows closed? What if someone saw me closing all the windows and knows I'm leaving the house unattended and then they go in the steal stuff? What if I didn't lock the door properly? Then someone would have easy access to my house? Wait! Did I turn off the stove?! Wait! I haven't even used the stove today...
Sometimes the doubting starts way before I even leave the house. As I'm closing windows, I'm thinking to myself all the ways someone could come in through the window and break into my house. I keep psyching myself out and worrying over nothing. Sometimes I'll walk around the house twice to make sure everything is closed and turned off. Then I'll walk out and check the outside. I'll try my door several times to make sure it's locked.
When I go out to eat or when I take the bus, or just anywhere I go where I would sit down, before I leave that place or the bus or wherever, I'll look back and check to see if I forgot something. I'll take a quick peek under the table and around the seats. On the bus, as I walk out, I'll constantly look back to make sure I didn't drop something by accident. It's a constant worry– what if I left something behind? I try not to get too comfortable in restaurants or buses or even hotels. I don't want to risk losing something because I was careless. It's not so much losing something irreplaceable as it is losing something that is MINE. I don't want to be losing MY stuff.
At hotels, you know how some people like unpacking all their stuff and putting it in the drawers provided? I have never in my life done that. If I start getting comfortable and putting my stuff all over the place, when I go to pack up, I might forget something. When we leave hotels, it's like this whole obligation to myself that I have to make sure that we don't leave ANYTHING behind. I check under all the beds, the covers, behind curtains, drawers (even though we didn't use them), the bathroom, everything. I have to double check twice (so like 4 times in total). Even as I'm leaving the room, I feel uneasy, like what if I missed a spot?
But sometimes my over thinking isn't such a bad thing. I always retrieve missing things from dinner tables or bus seats or hotel bathrooms before they even go missing.
Still, it's hard to relax or go with the flow when you're constantly worrying over everything.
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