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oops incredibly personal quite probably nonsensical ramble of friends and self exploration and home

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The smallest things make me doubt myself. It shouldn’t matter that most of my friends went to dinner without me knowing they’d gone. I got my food with another friend anyway. It shouldn’t matter that everybody’s back. It shouldn’t matter that everybody else is settling in so easily and I’m easily ignored as they do that. It shouldn’t matter. I shouldn’t be feeling like I’m shunted into the corner again. I shouldn’t be worrying about every single detail of every single friendship and relationship. I shouldn’t be feeling so uncomfortable. I shouldn’t be feeling like I was so close to something and missed it by an inch. What is that something anyway? Shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t. But it’s happening anyway, for the millionth time it seems. Maybe it can be pinned down to the jerk of having to write a paper for the first time since high school. Maybe it’s the disappointment left over from a certain piece of knowledge the other day. Maybe it’s the stress and uncertainty I’m harboring over what I’m doing with my major, career, life. Whatever it is, I want to feel at ease again.

Hopefully this is just a mood swing. But deep down I feel it isn’t.

When you watch V for Vendetta right after Jackie Chan’s Rumble in the Bronx, you feel like wielding knives, punching people, starting a revolution, and performing meaningful theatrics. That’s how my Saturday night ended up. V for Vendetta is probably one of the greatest and most beautiful movies I’ve ever seen and I can’t believe I put it off for so long. As I’m also reading a lot of Oscar Wilde these few weeks for an interest class I’m taking, I can’t help but string everything together. Masks, symbols, aesthetics, truth, lies, morality, these are all things that have occupied society at various times. I’m paraphrasing here but the artist lies to tell the truth and there is no such thing as immoral. These sound like hauntingly real statements to me and my judgment of the world will inevitably be affected by having such ideas at the back of my mind. Ideas are bulletproof.

Healing Scars

It’s been four years. We’ve all changed, no longer the middle school girls with their petty drama but older (but lbr not necessarily that much more mature, but immature in a good way) high school seniors or college freshmen who are beginning to realize that there is much more to life and friendship than mistakes and jealousy. The scars I carried for so many years finally feel like they’re healed. It may sound strange but it’s why I follow you on twitter. Seeing little bits of your life no longer hurts like it did for years, it only makes me hope that one day we’ll talk again and the people we are now can get to know each other, forgetting the conflicts of the past. Because what are thirteen year old girls’ bitterness in face of the lives we will lead as the adults we will soon be? I can’t believe it’s been so long, but I’m glad, glad that most things don’t hurt forever.

One day. I’m optimistic.

A Day of Actual Perfection

This is a long, slightly personal journal-y thing that I’m putting under a read more because it’s probably irrelevant to other people and have I mentioned it’s long? Stovens photos in their own post. General photos interspersed here. For more photos, see edithcrawley when she’s posted them.

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I just have to keep reminding myself that in five or ten years, I’m going to look back and laugh at all that I stressed over and smile at my youthfulness. Because ineptitude and mistakes, big or small, are just all part of life and learning. And I want to learn. So I’m going to forgive myself and have the time of my life trying my best. Because you know what? He was right.

I’m beautiful.

Olympic fever, Olympic legacy

What a day. What a night.

I don’t think I’ve ever gotten quite so emotional seeing the success of athletes. Oh the emotions of the superbowl and the NBA finals were close but it just wasn’t the same as this. Over the past 8 days I’ve somehow gotten myself more invested in the Olympics than I ever imagined being. From the opening ceremony warming my anglophile heart to watching teenagers find gold at the end of swims, from seeing USA, GB, and China strive for the medal count to celebrating the first medal, albeit bronze, that Hong Kong has in year, from Ledecky to Phelps, Lee Wai Sze to Mo Farah, Gabby Douglas to Uchimura, and for every single athlete putting themselves out there, and every single country supporting them, I am in awe of all. And the Game are barely halfway through.

I’ve spent the majority of these Games watching livestreams online, mostly NBC. And I’ve also spent them livetweeting a lot in excitement and pride. Of course, I’m a seventeen-year-old girl and sometimes I pay more attention to the physical attraction of men but I like to believe I very enjoy seeing goals reached, records broken, medals one, and in general all the hard work paying off. I couldn’t really handle all the emotions as I saw all that and more happen in the past week and especially today. Safe to say I’m pleasantly suffering from Olympic fever.

4 years ago I watched the Beijing Olympics from our home in Hong Kong. There was so much Chinese pride, especially when I could see the Equestrian arena from the bedroom window with the Olympic flame and everything. But I had a kung fu camp of my own to go to all the time and didn’t see as much as I’d liked on TV. I remember being sore that I missed seeing Phelps’ 8th gold medal winning race. Not this time. Thanks to a rather worthless summer I’ve watched every minute that I could possibly spare. And it was wonderful. This year London’s aim is for a fun-filled legacy and so far it’s delivering. The first time I nearly cried today was when Phelps received his 22nd medal, 18th gold medal, and last medal ever, well, probably. As well as his quirks of being chatty, putting up his foot on the podium, the greatest Olympic athlete proved himself time and again in the pool, inspiring everybody, athletes and spectators alike. The Chad Le Clos story epitomizes him. The way he interacts with other athletes whether he just got the gold or silver makes one smile. Honest and fun. It’s lovely to see. And as his career ends on this amazing note after succeeding in four Olympics and countless hours of training and competition, it was hard to stop the tears forming. Just so emotional. That’s Olympic legacy.

Before I continue on to talk about Team GB’s Super Saturday I’d like to point out that yes I am in fact cheering on a total of four countries’ teams which sometimes leaves me conflicted. Great Britain, USA, China, and Hong Kong. I feel allegiance to all of them having grown up in Hong Kong after being born there when it was still part of the British Commonwealth and being Chinese and then moving to the USA with my family nearly four years ago. And I’m an anglophile. Anyway, being away at a neighbour’s party earlier and foolishly forgetting to check the track events after I came back, I accidentally missed all the action. However, seeing the posts on Tumblr, the celebration on Twitter, and the victory ceremony for Jessica Ennis was enough to make me love sport and the athletes’ success even more. Her uncontrollable smile and tears moved me more than one would think and the mighty stadium-wide rendition of God Save Our Queen almost broke my heart with pride and awe if that’s even possible. I didn’t get a union jack cover for my new android phone for no reason. Still, it’s what these athletes achieve in the name of the country as well as themselves that’s so amazing. Team GB won six gold medals today. Team USA won three in swimming. Legacy, legacy, legacy.

It’d take too long to recognize all the athletes that deserve recognition and I’ve mentioned a few above yet it will never be enough, never be too much. The smiles, the tears, even the ones who didn’t make the podium, to know they’ve worked hard to get to the Olympics and maybe to know what they still have to do to improve, it’s all part of the learning process. It’s an amazing thing, the Olympics, it honestly is. And I know I’ve taken part in the hate of NBC’s commercialized handling of the Olympics and people either hate or love me for my nothing-short-of-crazy tweeting but it’s the positive spirit that counts in the end. The knowledge that these two weeks bring entire countries together to cheer on their people, that the events allow different countries to get to know each other, to support each other, and celebrate everybody.

So now I look forward to the second half of the Games.

Absorb the emotions, absorb the spirit, absorb everything the Olympics has to offer. This is a fever of legacy.

There are so many times when I feel like writing but I simply don’t know what I would say. There are a million thoughts in my head but no ideas. Reading a book or a fanfiction, I see all the eloquent language and I want to see if I could write like that but it’s always so hard to start something isn’t it? Or I could be listening to some striking music or watching a beautiful video and I can feel all these emotions and thoughts inside of me yet if I get myself in front of a blank piece of paper or document, my mind, well, it draws a blank. Maybe some of you wonderful writers could help me. Maybe, most likely, I’m just not trying hard enough. Unless I’m trying too hard. Or maybe it has to do with my lack of good communication skills in general. I’m not even going into a career that requires pretty writing, although engineering does require elegant design and clear thought so maybe that’s not too far off and everything has to do with writing. I just wish I could write. Sometimes, just sometimes, reading isn’t enough.

Alcohol Preparation?

I think my parents are trying to slowly acclimatize me to drinking alcohol. I refused a beer months ago when we watched the superbowl but a couple days ago they got me drinking a fifth of a glass of beer and now I’m drinking the sangria my brother made last week, albeit diluted. I’m not prude at all and am willing to try but I’ve never had any reason to consume alcohol, what with not having a life and all. It’s always made me curious though. Now I’m not sure whether they’re trying to get me used to it before I go off to college where everybody knows anything could happen or whether it’s just because I’m older and nearing 18 the legal drinking age in almost everywhere but here (but we’re from hk so you know, that’s probably what they’re working with). I don’t know. It’s just kind of weird. But cool.

Maybe I’m overthinking it and they’re not really thinking about anything but giving me the most ideal available drinks for this weather.

Bu I can’t deny I liked the taste of the sangria. And the fire in my chest right now… #Summer2012

I’ve spent a long time disliking the act of hoarding urls but I’ve finally done it myself. Because downtonstreetcat! It’s the perfect mix of Dan Stevens, humor, cats, urban-ish life, and Downton! Except now I feel bad because I’m still against saving urls. Because why should you have the privilege? My AP English teacher (and many others) never allowed us to save seats in class. It’s the same thing here. Ah well, it happens and I don’t pretend to have the authority to have my opinion mean much. And as this event shows, I’m pretty beneath myself too.

But downtonstreetcat! Ah! How was this not already taken? Hehe.

[Insert shameless self promotion for my blog onemockingjaywinter that may or may not change url to the above mentioned one some time soon… or I’ll just design a new blog… we’ll see… but follow! It’s so much prettier and happier and interesting and active and non-private than this one :)]