Procrastinating during study leave.

Hi it's been FOREVER since I wrote anything here (probably the longest I've gone without posting something new?) and I feel like I've forgotten how to blog, in general.

So here's a summary of the past couple of weeks, for me.

Part I 
My last post was about my first acceptance to a US college and my enthusiasm about that soon diminished when over the next week, I was to learn that it was my only acceptance. I absolutely was not expecting this and in a fit of helplessness, did late applications to three universities in Hong Kong. I have since gotten an offer to study business at one of them, but I'm not sure whether to accept it or not.

Control freaks hate things not going according to their plan. I was a horribly unpleasant person those few days (or am I always? har har) as I sullenly ignored people's consoling messages and even told a close friend of mine that frankly, her words, no matter how sweet, would not be able to change my current situation. My life seemed extremely bleak and I pictured having to take a gap year or being unemployed for the rest of my life. Genuinely. Obviously, I know now those thoughts were kind of silly, but at the time they felt very real and my stomach had all kinds of reactions to this newfound stress.

Because I had to write personal statements for my Hong Kong university applications (something I didn't have to do with the US colleges) and plan what my next moves would be if I wanted to transfer out to a higher-ranked school, I really had to think about what I wanted. My mum saw right through my initial few empty-worded drafts and I realised that I actually didn't aim to get anything out of college other than to get employed. I had only applied to great schools because my academic performance these past years made it not impossible to but I had no interest in contributing anything to them, nor did I have any great desire to be great. Looking back, I still think there were a couple of schools on my list of choices whose responses (as in, not an acceptance) were really surprising to me and my career advisors and I can only hope that all this happened to teach me a lesson, that I would be far less likely to be admitted if I myself couldn't convey my interest in being there because I didn't really have any.

So what's next? I think that if I do go ahead to Colgate (I really hope none of my future classmates see this...I realise this may come across as condescending to the school or as if I consider it beneath my abilities - please know that I don't intend to make such a statement), I'll have to take classes, see what I genuinely like and then work smart so that I can move into a school stronger in that field. That is the plan.

It's been a weird few weeks of acceptance (oh, what a bad pun) and learning how to deal with situations with a dose of humor. I never like playing what I call the "it wasn't according to God's will" card to explain my failures. I definitely could have been more strategic with things and I dunno, so I did make mistakes but I grew up a bit and hopefully, by working with a mindset I wouldn't have if I straightforwardly got into a top choice this year, I can go work my way to where I planned to be with these additional lessons in mind.

Part II
So I got a boyfriend...and it wasn't like one of those stories you hear in which two people had this mad chemistry which was obvious to everyone for months or years but they kept saying they were just friends and then bam, they started dating. We had known each other for a couple of years, and one day during this group lunch we were seated across each other. During that point, he was just someone I said hi to like a few times a year, as previously he went to school abroad. He was someone I knew, but not really someone I knew properly, if this makes sense. We talked, and afterwards when I was back home I realised that I had something amusing to tell him in context of the conversation we had. I then realised that the phone number listed under his name on my phone was outdated, thanks to Whatsapp, which told me he hadn't been seen since a year ago.

I don't normally make such an effort for something which wasn't even a big deal, but I am so grateful that some higher power made me think that it was worth asking my best friend for his number, and when she said didn't know, I bothered to go to his Facebook profile and find it.

He fortunately found what I had to say amusing, and we engaged in casual banter. Four days later, he asked me why I didn't like my school and it launched into a massively long and deep conversation about school experiences that, as it turned out, we both could relate to. It really took off from there, and soon he became one of those "best friends whom you're a bit reluctant to openly call a best friend because other people would think it's silly as you've only been talking for a short while". I realise looking back that because I never texted him that first time with the intent of it turning romantic (was still getting over a previous crush), I never felt the need to edit how I was presenting myself in my texts or online chats. I also felt like he was the first person who was matching me in the volume of words I was writing to him, or maybe even more, and then I realised after a while that I no longer cared because our conversations were so exciting and genuinely two-way. I mentioned a mere two weeks into talking that my best friend wouldn't be able to have dinner with me that Friday because she was at the annual rugby game, and he asked me to dinner. He likes to say now that he was planning to ask me out that very same time anyway, but was so glad I gave him a hint to do so. By then, we had already been talking for hours everyday and knew of what each other was doing and had done each day, so it wasn't entirely unexpected that two days after that ambiguous ask-out happened, we talked openly about our feelings and it was mutual :)

Since then (and he pointed out just now that it's been exactly fifty days, oooh), it's been lovely. He never stops making me feel appreciated and always likes to stress that we're a team, not a couple engaging in a struggle for power over the other. He's one of my best friends, and better than I am in so many ways. He's better-looking, smarter, kinder, more selfless, more hardworking, funnier and just...wow. In no way did I settle, and I'm still so very grateful everyday that someone like him would see something in me.

I still remember during the first few days he said everything that I had wanted to hear from someone in so long, things that I had long accepted might never be said. It made me see that no matter how confident I thought I was before, I wasn't confident enough to believe that I deserved nothing less than this standard because I had never seen it met. As a result, I so desperately wanted to love someone with that same standard in the hopes they'd understand and give the same back to me, and that didn't work. I'm so happy that things didn't work out with the guys I was interested in before my boyfriend, whether it'd be in a relationship or an unrequited crush, and I'm happy they happened, still, because without them I wouldn't know what I think I know now.

Here is where I have to admit that I was wrong. I recall (I don't even want to re-read what I wrote, I imagine it'd be too cringe-worthy) that I wrote, on this blog a few months ago, that I was certain somebody who didn't like me back was the person I should be with. To be fair, factually we cannot confirm that I am wrong, but I hope I am wrong because now I see things about him and our dynamic that probably would not have worked. The weird part is that I can say these things now, but this doesn't make what I felt then less real. Don't ask me how that works. I now believe that perhaps there isn't always only one clear distinct individual on this planet that you're meant to be with, but that in life you are supposed to jointly work towards becoming happy, sufficiently so that you both close yourself off to the possibility that somebody better could come along. So it's kind of like the person you're with becomes The One not because you felt it immediately, but because you two had the commitment to make that happen. And while I don't know what will happen, I can say that I'm very happy with the way things are going with me and my boo :)

(Finally! No more blog posts about being single. For now. You must have been annoyed with them, understandably so.)

Well yeah, that's essentially it. I'm done writing what I want to write for now, and if you want to ask me anything or talk to me you can, by clicking here :) bye! I hope you are well :) x

The story behind my first acceptance.

The buzzer in my apartment rang, and I didn't answer it.

My phone rang, and I did answer it. The guy on the other end said he was from FedEx, and was nobody home because nobody answered the buzzer? I thought it was a scam so I said yes. He asked when I would be back and I said in a few hours.

And then I asked what was inside and he was like, "I don't know, but it's from...a university in America I think?"

Had a mental keyboard smash there and I knew how stupid and contradictory I would sound...but I was like "It's okay! Please give me a few minutes and I'll come pick it up at the lobby."

Bear in mind that I already sounded pretty dumb in my inadequate Cantonese. The guy was like "ummm didn't you say you weren't at home..."

Anyway, whatever. Swallowed my shame, apologised when I saw him and collected the package.

And YAYYYYY it was an acceptance. The coolest part, though, was the fact that my letter had a short handwritten comment at the bottom of the standard acceptance letter - "Your passion for your blog is clear throughout your application. We are confident that you will impact the Colgate community in countless ways, On Tim!" It was kind of neat that they thought this blog was like, a point worth mentioning.

And thanks guys. I've noticed that there's been a pretty steep increase in readers this past month and I hope that somehow you can relate to what I've written. I promise I'm not like depressed or permanently heartbroken or anything.

:)

Liking somebody. At least this is how it goes for me.

"After all, baby, remember what they say - sometimes the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else."
-Richard from Texas, "Eat Pray Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert

We start talking. If you don't find me too crazy, we keep talking. About what each of us is doing, what we had for dinner. I am not bad at making good first impressions. And then, if it all goes well, we hit a point where we discuss something deep and it draws us closer. It does not immediately register in my mind that there might be romantic feelings involved here. "Whatever it is, we are friends first." I am nice, you are nice. You open up to me about something you don't share with everyone and you are impressed at my depth. Since you happen to be of the opposite gender, it eventually occurs to me that I should muse about whether we would be good together...and the answer is almost always yes because subconsciously I want it to be yes. I pretend this is a very well-thought out answer by using what is like the one virtual conversation which we seemed to be in sync as evidence. I want the answer to be yes because chances are, I am trying to get over someone else and I literally know that quote off by heart. I believe in it because it involves being able to actively work towards getting over someone instead of letting time do its job and I am a control freak. Most questions I ask you carry some sort of underlying motive - I will ask about your romantic past because I want to know what tendencies you have. I will ask about sad periods in your life because I pick up a lot on who you are through the way you tell them. If you genuinely have nothing sad to talk about, I unfairly arrive at the conclusion that you are a naive cookie-cutter person and probably too normal for my liking.

I will look at pictures on your Facebook profile and think that hey, you are not bad-looking. Funny that I had never noticed this before. Our conversations are still going with full steam - everyday, maybe even a few times a day. I am very conscious of the ratio between the amount you write and the amount I write, kind of like how in literature you are supposed to make a comment on the line distribution between characters in an extract of a play and analyse the reasons why the playwright wrote it like this. It makes me very happy if our text distribution is not imbalanced and I did not have to hold back on what I wanted to say. I make sure I do not talk about myself too much.

The turning point usually occurs when you talk about your approach to relationships and I like your answer. That makes me like you, as a result. I am initially reluctant to admit this, even to myself. I try to maintain the distinction between "he thinks this way" and "he thinks this way and wants me to be part of that" because to be fair, you never alluded to the second one. The person I previously liked becomes a passing, more neutral thought, and when I see you I catch characteristics of you I had previously missed, like how long your eyelashes are.

It all comes crashing down when I giddily refer to you in my conversations with other people, and without saying anything additional my face gives my feelings away. It leads a few to ask if there is something going on between us, and while I vehemently deny it, after a while I start to believe that there is. I mean, why else would we be talking so much and so seriously? This assumption takes over my restraint and I begin to scare you away with how creepy or needy I am. I do not need you, specifically. I was living my life perfectly fine before all this started, but I become convinced that I do, I do, I do because holy crap where else am I going to find someone with these qualities? I allow any previous thoughts that we were definitely not suited for each other - you drink a lot, I do not - to be discarded. I want it so badly, and the mistake I repeatedly make time after time is that I confuse wanting security for wanting you. You begin to ignore me, something which I know is so unlike you. They say that grief has five stages - denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. You like me, I know you do but you just will not admit it. I am angry at you because you are hurting me by telling me you do not. I want to tell you I like you so much that I do not even care - I will take this annoyed, evasive version of you if you could please just like me back. I officially hate this couple who are our mutual friends because they do things which I want to do with you and they remind me of what we could have been and I am sad. And then, because you would not let me be yours, I have to relearn how to be mine and be okay with that.

I make my friends think you are the baddie. I go to the gym. I dress better. I work harder. I am determined to become very hot and successful, possibly so that you will fall for me later and I will then have the power to hurt you back.

However, I am not a very vengeful person so after a few weeks I no longer want to hurt you. I still want to be hot and successful, though, because for a while the story of us is fresh in my mind and so I would rather chase those things than chase another boy.

I do not properly learn from my mistakes. Someone else comes into the picture...and really, I am an emotion-based slut, doing the same things which do not last and are not defined with different guys.

Kind of sad.

I dreamt that my mum was talking to a relative on the phone. She had it on speaker so I heard what the relative was saying. I was doing my own thing at the other side of the room and wasn't paying attention until she said something which I can only recall as wildly untrue, something I knew for a fact was false. My ears perked up at this, I looked up and my mum had a puzzled expression on her face. The relative kept talking and every sentence seemed more inaccurate than the last - at first, what she was saying was merely incorrect, then it escalated to language errors I would not have expected her to make, followed by speaking in gibberish and finally she was gasping and making sounds I imagine are associated with breathing difficulties. The phone was still on speaker mode, and I wished I could not only end the call but that I could make this not happen. In that moment, it was really painful to think that the horror we felt from listening to these sounds and not being able to help in any constructive manner was incomparable to what it must have felt like to be the relative there and then. For some reason, neither my mum or I thought it fitting to do anything. We just sat there, knew she was dying and literally listened to her die.

I woke up in the middle of the night, horrified with my heart racing in a bad way because when placed in context with what's happening in my life now, the dream could not be merely dismissed and I feared that this was some sort of premonition. It was one of those rare dreams in which I dreamt not knowing it was a dream.

Somehow, I fell asleep again and this time dreamt that I was on the phone with the same relative. It did not seem like a continuation of the previous one because she was speaking normally. However, I had the knowledge of what happened in the other dream and this time, I was talking to her as quickly as I could, trying to...say everything and just have a normal conversation with her for as long as possible because I felt that she could be gone anytime. She then asked if she could ask me to do something for her. I said yes.

My alarm went off. Cursing silently, I stopped it and went back to bed, trying to force myself to go back into that exact moment because I did not want to leave her hanging. It took a good few minutes for me to register that nothing had actually happened.

The main thing my mind kept going back to throughout this morning was that fundamentally, in both dreams I failed to help and maybe the underlying message was that I wasn't helping her, someone else or helping in general sufficiently. The memory (well, not really a memory, but I don't know what else to call it) of someone audibly dying was frightening. I felt really panicky that since even that was not enough to compel me to do anything, maybe the implication was that I was a very cold-hearted person.

It definitely was a little unsettling. I am very, very, very skittish about death and without going into details or trying to overrate what I have personally been through, I know that my experiences around this have shaped the person I am. I often worry that I am going to die alone and unloved, just like my relative supposedly did in the first dream, and this is why I feel I must seek stability and expressed love in another person before my time is up. I am a minor introvert, but this fear pressures me into putting this aside and finding somebody even though I know I have more baggage than is in a domestic airport and I am not as good as I think I could be. This paragraph is terrible, illogical, rambly and I am sorry. I am not too sure how it went from writing about a dream to revealing my motivations behind dating. (Which I am sure did not just scare off every guy who reads this.)

Key takeaways from this post: I do not write well. Plus, if we end up dating, just know that I have already analysed whether or not I think it would be good to die with you around, and if we stay together, I feel positive about this.

Really but not really. I am distraught by what is going on and it has obviously had some impact on me. I have not had the heart to write in the past few weeks but I know that the words will eventually come.

Waste a few minutes of your life reading this.

Okay so I had this weird dream in which I was at some random shopping mall which I cannot actually identify in real life. I took notice of how I was on the ground floor. Greenery and sunshine were visible on the other side of the transparent glass doors.

I was eating a massive cupcake and minding my own business when an old man just came up to me, swiped a bit of my cupcake off and ate it. I was like wtf. Next thing I knew, the police were after me because the old man told them that he tasted traces of drugs in my cupcake.

The lucid dreaming thing kicked off and I'm not really sure why I ran instead of telling the police officers that what the old man said was untrue. My dream switched back and forth between me running, and the scene at the mall. How cinematic. I ran...very, very, fast. I remember thinking "I'm gonna turn left, then left again, then right". I did that, and eventually began to lose the trail of policemen behind me.

And then I decided to go and have lunch in some nice restaurant, being so sure everything was cool. The end.

I'm not really sure why I thought this was worth sharing but I slept very well, so that was nice. Woke up feeling so energetic, as if I had a morning run :)