Days of My Life

I just spent nearly two hours playing Draw My Thing on OMGPop. Of course, I should have been doing homework that I neglected the first six weeks of this quarter. But of course, I did not do what I should have. Oh, me, oh my. This weekend, I have been continually going back and forth between San Gabriel and home. Everything is blurring together--I keep passing by the same places over and over again, going to and from. It's quite confusing, and I don't quite like it. But alas, I am going to continue this routine tomorrow... I can't help it! While it definitely feels stupid to go back and forth the same area for days, it's also most convenient in terms of where to pick up/ drop off particular persons. It's driving me crazy as both a driver and a passenger. I hope there will be no more of this nonsense after tomorrow. Not to say that I haven't had a good, relaxing weekend. Actually, driving has been stressing me out a lot, and the sameness of the past few days...

Someday, someday I'll figure it out Someday, somehow Everybody has something to show,  I got a thousand different stories And nothing to hold Someday, someday I'll make it a home And I, I'll stick around One day, I'll say "No more packing up, I'm settling down."

After work at the law school today, I went to see Mrs. Quach and her fourth grade class, who came to visit the campus. She asked me to talk with them about school and how I got to UCLA and what I plan to do. I couldn't tell them what immediately came to mind--that I procrastinated all the time, that I no longer know what in the world I am going to do--so I just kind of told them the cliche "No matter what school you go to, try your best, and you can end up here!" In terms of what I plan to do after I graduate, I started vaguely, "Well, I have options..." But apparently, options are good. Goodness, I would be a terrible college representative, haha. Unless I can fake excitement and make up stories... Nah. As I left the group, I said farewell to my dearest, one and only fourth grade teacher. And I asked, "Wait, so... Mrs. Quach, or Tammie?" I think she actually does prefer that I call her by her first name! But I really can't bring myself to... It...

I absolutely detest being sick. Who doesn't? When I first get sick, I feel so vulnerable--physically as well as emotionally. And I hate feeling vulnerable and susceptible. It makes me feel... weak and dependent. But I suppose that with my dearest mother, it's okay to feel dependent. Even at 20 years old, I'm still my mother's baby, apparently. Last night, as I was going to bed, my mom offered to sleep next to me in case I needed her in the middle of the night: Mom: Want me to sleep next to you? me: (adamantly) No! Mom: (shockingly) Why not?! (sincerely) You're still my baby! me: No, it's because I don't want you to get sick, too... Mom: Ah, it's okay... That touched my heart, right before I fell asleep. And earlier, as I was getting ready to leave home to return to school, she kept asking what soup I wanted (I had originally gone home because I had asked her to make soup for me) to bring to school, and I asked her why she kept asking me even tho...