Singing Stop This Train

Why hello there,

It’s been a while since I last posted on this blog. But enough about the time that has rushed by – I want to discuss about the future. Today was the first day that I began to search for graduate programs. The word graduate sounds so foreign to me for it doesn’t seem like it was four years ago when I was searching for undergraduate admission information. And yet, here I am, clicking the tab next to undergraduate and sending out inquires for information on masters program. It’s funny how, on some days, you can feel so lost and helpless, not knowing what will come next in life. And how on other days, like today, everything seems to just fall into place.

I have wanted to be a pediatrician since I was in kindergarten. I grew up with this dream and confidently told anyone who asked me, that I was going to be a pediatrician. I held onto this goal throughout college, but what I did not expect, was for college to be an eye-opening obstacle. I did not study in high school. I worked hard in elementary and middle school. And part of high school. But I did not study. Therefore, I did not know how to study when I came into college, and being in the situation I was in, surrounded by pure Diamond Bar High people who thought highly of themselves and a roommate who was so intense in academics, she was a literal turn off, I did not learn as quickly as I should of. So now, let’s fast forward three years ahead. I am going into my senior year of college with a sub-par GPA. Let’s say mediocre to be nice. I went from a exceedingly high GPA in high school, to a mediocre one. It’s sad, but it’s the truth. So what happens now?

My confidence had been through hell and back and my pride would not let me apply to 50 medical schools with the 1% hope that I might get in. So I stalled. Mistake number 2. Note, not a regret, but I do recognize this as a mistake on my part. Oh well, so now, not only will be I be finishing up my final year, but I will be finishing it up in a hurry, as I do want to be done with it by the end of Summer 2013.

This minor. This minor validated my prolonged feelings of working in a child-related field. It made me realize that I could possibly go into something similar as a profession. So then I began to look at Early Childhood Education masters programs. And along the way, I found Child Development, specifically medically-geared Child Life Specialist, master programs, that would not only supplement my science GPA, but would take into consider only my undergraduate GPA for my last 45/90 units. For the first time in a while, I feel like I have a goal to work towards again and a sense of excitement.

There’s a great place in New York called Sarah Lawrence where I can get my masters in Child Development. But likewise, in the University of La Verne, which is like 15 minutes away from home, I can get a masters in Child Development or Child Life Specialist. And today, on this seemingly auspicious day, my mother called letting me know that we are indeed moving to a new home. A home with a balcony in my room and everything else. So perhaps this is a sign? Attend a masters program for two years at a school like this and commute. Study hard for the MCAT and aim for the highest score possible. Apply to medical schools, show them my true colors, and perhaps be accepted into one, regardless of location. And with the money I saved, go there, and finally become a pediatrician. I feel like things are falling into place. Now I just have to make sure I don’t screw anything up.

More to say and more to come, but for now, stay classy!

<3 A.

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Dance.

Hey you,

Here’s a confession. As much as I never intended to get involved with dance (it was always supposed to be my sister and I was supposed to be the one who sang), I really did love it. And it’s exactly how you described it above. Bharata Natayam made me feel graceful and feminine and for once in my life, I could really relay my emotions to my audience. Which is why, every time I felt like this could be something life-changing for me, every time I was close to appreciating it, it was completely stamped out by Malini Aunty. I swear, if it wasn’t because I was the tallest girl in class, it was because I wasn’t graceful or was not trying. I hate when people tell me I’m not trying when I actually am.

So for the eight years of my dance career, I pretty much loathed dance and myself for almost the entire time. I probably would have quit sooner if it was not for my determination to prove Malini Aunty wrong and because I really did like it. But of course, every Friday, it was another blow to my self-esteem. It wasn’t enough that I felt like I was completely ugly in middle school/high school. I had to be told every week how un-feminine I was. So what kept me in it for those last two or three years? I could have easily said, nope, high school’s here, I’m out. Haha, I started to make legit friends in class. Like, really meeting everyone rather than simply acknowledging them. My first REAL friend in dance who made me feel like I wasn’t alone and that I could, if I put my mind to it, stick through it to the end? It was you Harshita (: Dance became fun and emotionally rewarding again because I was happy learning it, knowing that I had a friend to share it with (:

And then, of course, Malini Aunty decided to pull me from the class where I had a group of friends and place me in a different class all together. I knew I was missing a lot of class because of Leo Club and Color Guard, but we were having one-on-one sessions to help me catch up. And then she pulls that. Puts me in a class with pre-teens and it’s back again to how I’m the weakest link. So I did both her and me a favor. I quit.

I regret it of course. I wish I could have stuck through it just like everything else. I NEVER in my life, have given up on something that I’ve worked hard on. IB, Color Guard, etc. Dance was that one thing – it was bittersweet. I felt like a different person when I was performing, but classes made me feel like the largest, ugliest, clumsiest person alive.

When no one’s watching, I still dance a bit. Mostly to remind myself of everything I learned. The expressions, the hand gestures, the poses, etc.

Yup, that’s my story.

<3 A.

Sometimes …

Sometimes …

I wish happy moments never ended. Getaway trips or random excursions could keep going. So much that my heart aches.

Sometimes …

I wish I didn’t choose UCLA. That I went off to a university in the East like I originally planned and had a clean slate and absolutely no one knew me and had expectations.

Sometimes …

I wish I was really smart. Or actually pretty. The life of a party or calm/collected. Or had SOMETHING going for me that wouldn’t make me some total failure.

Sometimes …

I wish I was a year younger. Bluntly, because I feel like I have/will never fit in.

Sometimes …

I wish I had parents who were traditionally American. Or I guess, not so stoic and harsh. People who are used to hugging and saying “I love you” on a regular basis. Because, thanks to them, I’m awkward when it comes to hugs, comfort, and love.

Sometimes …

I wish I wasn’t so headstrong or stubborn. That the thought of changing paths would not scare me so much. There’s so much I want to CONSIDER changing – from my current major to my profession. But the thought of change I guess, scares me.

Sometimes …

I wish I didn’t think so much. Or was as emotional. So I could actually be sleeping at 2:30 in the morning -.-

Broken.

“I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you’re always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call. But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.”

You promised me that nothing would ever change. You promised me that no matter what, you would never be angry with me. You promised me that even at the worst of times, you would stand by me.

And yet, you left. You completely abandoned me and left. This isn’t some stupid romance novel, this was a friendship. A friendship that you said would flourish and be strong even in college. And yet, you let it die. And you left me broken.