Well...ok

So the last post was a rant. I was going to take it down because I realized how childish and immature I sounded. I'm such a drama queen. But then I decided to keep it up, because one day this day will bear witness to my growing pains.

But update on Prom, it was actually a pretty fantastic night, and I did end up bringing my stuffed fox carson with me. We had a blast. We danced, we twirled, and we snuggled on the car ride home. I introduced him to everyone with the phrase:

Hi, meet my date. His name is carson (sticks out paw for people to shake). He's a little foxy, but I think I can keep him under control for one  night.

Someday when I have kids and I put them through  hell, I can just point to my blog and say, "Read this", and maybe, just maybe they might learn something from it. Then I'll be able to go, "Hah, your mother isn't such an outdated dinosaur afterall!"

Parenting can't be easy. I know it can't or else more people would be having more than their 1.5 kids per household. Think about it.

Parents have to birth a kid, and then influence and inspire  that child into becoming something great rather than scarring them into becoming a psychopath/serial killer. When I have kids, I will not be able to give them that lap of luxury. My kids will probably need some serious therapy sessions, but hopefully I won't scar them too bad.

Favorite Quote:

When life gives you lemonade, make lemons. Life will be all like, "Whaaaaaat"
 - Phil Dunphy

Control yourself girl!

As I sit here listening to screamo, all I can think is, "I'm slowly going insane, and not in a pleasant Dr. Seuss way."

What is supposed to be one of the greatest nights of my high school life, has casually turned into one of the most stressful, painful, and by far worst night of my life.

Prom

And I will be braving this fair night by myself. Alone. Like the loser I am.

So the beginning of this painful saga all began that fateful day, when the prom theme was announced: Music of the Night (Aka phantom of the opera). Since I skipped junior prom last year I figured, "Hey why not go this year? It's your last year, and you'll never be able to go again." Made sense at the time.

Not wanting to spend $500 on a dress I'd only wear for 5 hours, I borrowed my math teacher's daughter's dress. It's gorgeous.

Not wanting to spend an additional $100 on shoes, I opted out to wear a pair of grey converse.

So far, all prom was going to cost me was $50 for the ticket, and an additional $70 for my date's ticket. I was happy.

Then I had to go on an epic quest to find a prom date. First guy, sort of shrugged and I crossed him off the list. Second guy, "I have finals". Third guy, "I'll get back to you." Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth, "Prom tickets are how much?"

This whole debacle went on for about 2 months, and I was frankly, desperate and basically resigned myself to never finding a date.

Then this 17yr old kid crashed his car outside our house, and I figured, "Hey, what the heck?"

That's right, after this kid crashed his car outside, he got rushed to the hospital, but Yay! Nothing was wrong. Then his family came over like a week later for a "Thank you for calling 911 and sitting with my son until they came" reunion. They were so cute, they came up to me and were like "Thank you so much." And I'm like, "Anytime, but all I did was sit in my room and cry and call 911." I only went outside after I saw signs of life and minimal blood.

What can I say? I panicked.

Well the last date who was supposed to go with me canceled and I was out of options... and then I remembered said kid.

So I asked him... and he said yes!

Finally a nice date, for a nice night.

You see, I have a tendency for being spontaneous and impulsive. This tendency upsets my parents.

They don't like it.

They worry for me.

They don't understand it's just who I am.

They'll probably never get it.

It upsets me when they don't get it.

It upsets them when I don't get why they don't get it.

Why does everything have to be escalated?

It's really not that big of a deal when you look at it!

We're dysfunctional, (even past the sadness and frustration and genuine anger pouring from my fingertips right now through the keyboard, I still love them. I just don't like them right now.)

So I told the school that after all my hard searching, yes I would finally not be the odd one out and have a date. For the one night in my life, it seemed like life was finally giving me a break.

I told my mom and dad I was going to pay for this kid's ticket as well as my own.

They flipped shit.

"Money doesn't grow on trees."
"Other girls are going alone, why can't you?"
"You have to save for your trip to China."
"You're too impulsive."
"Impulsive is dangerous."
"I've talked it over with your father, we've agreed  that you can't bring a date to prom because your impulsiveness is dangerous and because you were so impulsive there needs to be consequences to your actions."

but... this is my senior prom. MY SENIOR PROM. You know, in the long run, this probably isn't going to matter whether or not I had a date to prom, but honestly, I really wanted to go with one... I wanted to have someone to dance with, and get prom pictures with, and laugh with, and go bowling with later, and sit with at dinner.

"No Rebecca, this discussion is closed, our decision is final."

Was the discussion ever open? (Answer: no)

They then proceeded to go outside and tinker around with that stupid chicken hut of ours, while I sat inside the house throwing a temper tantrum only a mature 17yr old girl knows how to throw. I cried. I sobbed. I slammed my fist on the floor and screamed, "Why? Why don't you get it? Why don't you care? NOOOOOOOOOO!"

Then I calmed down and told them, "Fine, I'm not going to prom at all."

Then my mom got all pissed off and was like, "There you go, being impulsive again. Being impulsive will get you nowhere in life. You know Rebecca, you're a real idiot. You're gonna look back on this and regret it for the rest of your life. You're a real idiot. (Insert the story about someone she knows who was just like me, a real hard head, and ended up a drug addict in the middle of nowhere Texas, refusing help from his family, because he's a hard head...like me.)

If I don't go to prom and stop being impulsive I'm going to be a drug addict...apparently.

Well I talked to my now ex-date's mom and told her that well, No sorry your child cannot come to prom with me because I'm impulsive. She talked me into going. She's an angel.

My mom also texted me to "Get over yourself XOXO".

Thanks mom.

So now I'm going alone...

Thank you world.

Maybe I'll bring my stuffed fox and dance all the slow dances twirling around all the couples singing "All you need is love, but I wouldn't know cause I haven't found any yet."

What really pisses me off tho is that this is my one night of high school that's supposed to be off the charts fantastic, and all it's doing right now is stressing me out. I'm pissed. Super uber doober pissed. And that's why I'm blogging about it, because writing helps me to de-stress and relax. So far, not working. I still want to punch something.

When my sister went to prom... yes this is going to turn into BUT IT'S NOT FAIR BECAUSE SHE- rant... anyway when my sister went my parents paid for her ticket, her dress, and paid her fare for the limo. Overall way over the $200 mark if I do say so myself. My prom on the other hand was going to cost exactly $120 for both my ticket and my date's. That's it.  I wasn't spending money on a dress, I wasn't buying shoes, I'm not going anywhere to get my hair, nails, or makeup done (#diy), and I'm sure as hell not getting a limo. And I was going to pay for that with my own money.
But no. Because I'm impulsive I have to go alone.

They were like, Fine, we'll pay for your ticket, but no you can't bring the date, and no you can't pay for him with your own money. You're not bringing him period. You're going alone.

I hate being alone.

It sucks.

Then to add the frosting to this wonderful cake I've been baked I was told, "Be grateful.", when they saw the anger and utter disappointment flash across my face and sit there like a wet mop.

YES LET ME BE GRATEFUL.

My bad.

It's hard to be grateful when you're pissed. It really is.

I know I'm going to look back on this night and realize that my parents really do love me and aren't trying to make my life a living hell. And it's my fault that life treats me the way it does, and this is merely a character building memory that can only make me stronger. My parents are merely doing what they think is best, and aren't torturing me for the hell of it. They just love me and think that destroying my senior prom is the best way to make me see that.

In a way they are right, my being impulsive can be bad, but I consider it my best quality.

Time is precious, I don't want to waste it trying to find the safest, most secure, most fail-safe answer to every problem. I don't want to waste it trying to solve every problem like I'm friggin Albert Einstein. I want quick results. I don't have time to sit down and think things through till the frickin sun burns out.

But don't get me wrong, I totally dig my parents. They're actually pretty chill people. Most of the time. You've read my other posts, they're good people. They're just slightly controlling and highly paranoid that the world is just one gigantic cess pool of danger and corruption that's just waiting to pounce on their hard-headed, spontaneous, impulsive, asian daughter.

I thought this post would make me feel better. But I'm still pissed. It's gonna take a few to feel better.

Favorite Quote:

Build a man a fire and he’ll be warm for an hour. Set a man on fire, and he’ll be warm for the rest of his life. 
         - Terry Pratchett

Life’s a garden… dig it. 
         - Joe Dirt

The self-mediated ADH - alpaca, said the dog to the bunny. I'm eating cake. Ooh look a flower. Sunshine. Nvm it's night time. Glove.

It was always an obvious factor in my day to day life.

The inability to sit absolutely still

The constant glancing out the windowsill

The intense desire to be doing something.

The inability to just do one thing

The struggle of ever being on time for class

The breaking of most things, even some glass

The lack of remembering even the simplest of things.

The complete, and utter disregard for prioritizing

The challenges of focusing on one task at a time.

The loss of everything down to a dime

The complete lack of organizational skills

Have burdened me endlessly, it gives me the chills


Thus is my self-diagnosed ADD to a tee.

I took a total of 5 tests online the other day to see if I qualified as an actual ADD patient, and wouldn't you kow it, every single test came out above positive. If the average was 24, I was a 37. The best was this one test that told me "most people with your conditions seek professional help...immediately."

Because people are unique, they all leave their mark.

I used to subscribe to society.

I used to believe deep down inside my core beliefs, that if I did not "dress to impress", that everyone would judge me the same way I judged them.

I used to judge people based on how they looked on the outside, completely disregarding the human being under the skin.

I used to flip through magazines, memorizing fashion tips, trying to create the image of someone completely self-confident and in control.

I used to be insecure. I would constantly second guess myself, but mask it behind a wall of makeup and smiles.

It was all a lie.

That life, was exhausting.

And then I hit rock bottom.

I started talking to this guy, who I just became so completely dependent on. I was a clingy, pathetic, girlfriend without any hope of standing on my own without him. He held the power in that relationship, and I was left powerless in his grip. And yet, because of those childish feelings of "love"  that I held in the bottom of my heart, I believed he really loved me, because I loved him so much. It was like I couldn't even breathe without him.

I would get those silly butterfly feelings every girl dreams about every time his name would appear on my phone when I'd get a text from him. My heart would skip a beat every time I heard his voice. Every time I saw his face, my whole body would just melt and I'd get all these warm feelings inside that seemed to suffocate the rest of the world. We shared all the same interests. We loved the same music. We were both the black sheep of the family. He understood me. I felt like he was the only person in the world who I could possibly relate to. I wanted to marry this boy. I was infatuated. There was not one thing I wouldn't do for him.

If he liked something, then I liked something. If he hated something, I hated something. I refused to have my  own thoughts, dreams, beliefs. Everything and anything that was Rebecca Malloy was tied to a guy who's only concerns were those of his own selfish desires.

And then one day he asked for photos.

Because I "loved him so much", I subscribed. I said yes. At first I said no because I still had some self-worth, but I let my insecurity get the best of me, and I gave in.

I subscribed

Once they began, they didn't stop. I figured, ok. One photo and then he'll leave me alone and be satisfied. What could go wrong? But of course, one photo was never enough. How could it be for such a tyrant?

This went on for a while and eventually I became stressed out. Irritated. Angry. Paranoid. I felt like I was being suffocated under a mountain of a relationship that I barely believed in any more. Yet because of "love" I refused to break it off. Because I was "insecure" and I finally had that "perfect boyfriend" society told me was acceptable, I couldn't let him go.

I was so afraid of being alone

And then, his parents found out about the photos. Then suddenly, my parents found out about the photos.

The look in my dad's eyes every time he looked at me. All I could do was feel so ashamed. He had this pain in his eyes every time he looked at his "little girl" who sold her soul to a guy who didn't even love her back. "I thought I raised you better."

All I could do was sit in my room, truly alone, and sob for something that was never even mine to begin with.

I was left with a ripped up heart and desecrated dreams.

And all I could think was, I still loved him.

He was an asshole



 I look back on those days and I wonder. How did I even let this happen?

Never again.

I will never again subscribe my life to a society where in order to feel accepted you need to subjugate yourself to such a level of defilement. It wasn't cool. I didn't feel happy. My life was one gigantic scandal of a loveless lie.

And that is why I am awkward.

And that is why I have this blog.

And that is why I so firmly believe in being yourself. 

And that is why I ask perfect strangers on a bus if they want duck shaped cookies.

And that is why I am so comfortable with being me

There's an old saying "You must learn from your mistakes." Well I learned from mine.

I realized that you will never be able to love anyone, unless you can truly love yourself.

Love your insecurities,

Love your imperfections,

Love your talents

Love your faults

Love your smile

Love your laugh

Love your body

Love your friends

Love your enemies

Love your family

Love your faith

Love your life

Love the fact that you aren't what society says you have to be in order to fit in,

Love the fact that you don't fit in, or love the fact that you do.

And on that note, I would like to thank you. Thank you for being a living, breathing, creature on Earth. Without you, your soul mate would be very, very lonely.





Breakfast of Champions

Well the night came and fell on day one of the steubenville trip and after watching two episodes of How I Met Your Mother with everyone, Rachel and I decided to split for the evening.

There is one thing about Steubenville, among other things, that really made me pause and acknowledge. The campus at night is beautiful. Walking back to Tommy was truly inspiring. The street lights, cast an eerie light that bathed the buildings in an iridescence. Everything glowed with an almost magical essence, as the silence was intermittently interrupted by the rustling of the wind in the trees.

Step after step we made our way back as a peace settled over the campus. Everything was calm. Steubenville felt like a peaceful safe haven away from the busy lives bustling about in the city just outside the campus. I never slept so good on a floor before.

We woke up the next morning with a start, and we dashed this way and that getting ready to go to Church. It's an unspoken agreement at Steubenville, that Church is to be treated with respect. The guys are in khakis, some in suits,  and the girls are in dresses or skirts.

Steubenville takes "Sunday Best" to a whole new level, and honestly it was a nice change from the sweats and jeans I normally see at home.

I think it's also another unspoken agreement that everyone on campus can sing or play guitar. Which is probably why the music during Mass was so amazing to the point of inspiration. Everyone was so hype for Mass. I actually saw people smiling... SMILLING... while they were walking in to take their seats...

It made me smile to see.

And you'll have to take my word for it, but when Steubenville people praise... they praise.

Afterward was a very hearty breakfast in the Caf, consisting of an assortment of choices including: homemade waffles, pre-made waffles, a variety of cereals, scalloped potatoes, eggs, regular potatoes, sausage, bacon, whipped cream, fruit, and anything else you could possibly think of. 

I'm normally a food snob, but I have to admit, that breakfast impressed me.

Favorite Quote:

We call it, "The Mega Bed"

Is somebody sitting there? Yes. Oh the struggles of being an awkward asian

So this weekend has been one of the weirdest most enlightening experiences of my high school existence. And that's saying a-lot. On a scale of introverts to nacho cheese dip, it would probably be around MarioKart.

We should start from the beginning... a chronological account of my weekend

It all started that day. That fateful day. So there I was, minding my own business, reading a book (Catch 22 by Joseph Heller, just in case you cared) when I realized that there was an emptiness in the room, in the exact shape of my sister (Rachel). So we set up a trip to get me up to OH.

 March 22 at 7:00 am

I made my way to Philadelphia where the Megabus was waiting for me. We're not really going to recount the 7 hour and 10 minute bus ride to College-land because it was boring and monotonous, filled with shady looking people, my DS, and Paul the Llama.

After offering everyone on the bus ride a duck cookie, and getting met with weird looks I acknowledged the fact that I would not be making friends on this trip and as a result would sit in my seat like a good little asian and not make eye contact.

So that's what I did.

I got picked up by my sister, Mary Ciaccia (the greatest singer in the world, youtube it), and their friend, who then proceeded to eat the friendship duck cookies as we sang melodious tunes on the 40 minute car drive back to campus.

On my arrival we shuffled our way over to the "Caf" (aka the glorified cafeteria) where I was introduced to some more of my sisters very....enthusiastic...friends. God Bless them... please. Juuuuust kidding they were awesome. I was just a little swamped from the long bus ride, (doing nothing is so tiring) so loud noises weren't exactly my best friend. So I just sat and awkwardly picked at the sandwich in front of me.

From there the night was sort of a blur, one thing after the next as I was shuffled back and forth 
through the campus meeting this friend and that, while experiencing the joys of walking the Steubenville Campus. I swear, no matter where you walk, you are always walking up hill. No wonder everyone's is such good shape up here.

We went to a Mike Mangione's concert where he sang like a belting angel. And in that calming atmosphere of a Presbyterian Church Basement, I met the Lord again and got chills for the first time in a long time.

End of Day One

Self-acknowledgements so far: 

1. You are awkward. 
2. You can't speak in groups of 3 or more. 
3. You're Asian and you own a DS = you are a nerd. 
4. You read books for fun. 
5. You don't like college food. 
6. You like all your sisters friends
7. You tried to make friends by telling them you made a llama cookie named Paul.... why?

Amen.

Favorite Quote:

Can Rachel be the adopted one?

China "My Beautiful Woman Heart Touching Video"

 

for those of you who read my blog, you know my story. For those of you who don't. I suggest reading "Pregnancy is not an option" and Pregnancy is not an option part 2". This video made me cry. Watch it. It's worth the 7 minutes.

 

The value of human life should never be underestimated. I learned this from my family.  Sure we’re not your typical family on the street, but as a result my family is more accepting of different cultures, more open minded. Growing up, we didn’t see colors. We saw people, faces, and emotions. We were taught to embrace those around us and treat them with the same respect we treat ourselves. My parents showed us the equality of life, and the value of each human being you meet. In equality there is acceptance, and in acceptance we found freedom.

Favourite Quote for the Day:

The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.

Alas, Dear reader, the time has come: FOR ANOTHER BLOG POST WOOHOO

Four score and seven years ago, I gave up on this blog from the sheer exhaustion that seems to have accompanied my daily life up until this point and time.

 

 

Senior year is dragging me down. My goal for the month of February is to go to bed by 12 so I can get a full 6 hours of unperturbed sleep. Of course it seems very impossible, and it probably is. But that my dear readers is why it is called a GOAL.. perhaps "dream" would be a better world, seeing as the thought of getting enough sleep to last the day without passing out is just as likely to occur as me being able to attain my lifelong goal of eating an entire thing of nacho cheese dip without barfing. But you know, miracles do happen.

 

Take KFC for instance, it is a miracle in itself.

 

 

 

 

"KFC TORTURES CHICKENS" oh yea? What a dumb saying. KFC EATS CHICKENS! That's  a better one... Yea that's right. They fry them babies up and slather them in crispy love.

 

God knows what they do to that chicken (if it can even be called that) and yet the end product is delicious golden crunchy kentucky fried goodness, so I'm willing to let the pre-product slide. Is that horrible? Yes. Do I care as I lick the greasy goodness off my fingers? No.

 

Anyways, this past January has been marked by a plethora of a seemingly endless string of activities that have kept my mind and body in a constant state of unrest, casually accompanied by fitfull sleep. I swear, I have the weirdest dreams... If only I could remember them long enough to tell them to you.

 

I saw Frozen. I don't think I should say more for fear of A) Spoiling the show B) This might turn into a fangirl rant. In any case. Frozen was amazing, and you should see it. period.

 

 

See that face? That is why you should see FROZEN.

 

So cute story. I got home from school, it was late, I was run down, tired, as usual. And my Dad sort of sighs and goes "I'm going to go see Frozen with your mom and your little sister". And my face was something along the lines of pure joy. So he looked at me and very slowly said, "Would you like to come?" I swear I was 3 years old again, I was dancing around my house going "I'm gonna go see FROZEN! I'm gonna go see FROZEN!" I'm so mature.

 

Well aside from being probably the randomest of my blog posts, it's been fun.

 

 

Favorite Quote:

 

The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But it's still on the list.