Hi

Hi all. So much trouble sleeping these past few weeks. You guys every watch that episode of Star Trek where nobody achieves REM sleep, and they start to go insane because of it? You think thats real? Hahaha i hope not, i dont recall having any dreams for like the past year. I was going to write another complainer blog about how i can't fall asleep but whatever. Just one thing to mention. AhCong got a haircut. He looks like a 17year old boy.... So cute! Hahahahah HES ACTUALLY 26 OKAY !!

Lives in Strange Central

Sometimes I wonder why I'm not religious, and why I don't believe in a God or anything. Other times it's absolutely clear. This week as been one of those times when it's been crystal clear. I don't believe in god because he gives me no reason to do so. It fricken makes me want to die when I see rude little shits spending their parents money on gucci bags and gucci shoes not having to worry about their life because everythings already been set in stone. And then you go and compare it with people who try hard everyday in life, but just can't get ahead because no one gives them a break. It makes me sick. Fucking sick. I just dont understand. How could you have cancer? You're how old? I just don't fucking believe.... that if there really was a god, that he would have the heart to put someone through even half as much shit as you've been through. useless....

new year doesn't bring anything new

or anything really good actually for that matter.
Long, day today. So the annual CNY Banquet was today. Long story about that. This was the year that it was supposed to be a 10 person table full of all our friends. Somehow, fate threw in a pebble and messed it all up. I had 4 tickets for me, jess, ling and ben. a week b4 the banquet, and ben gets laid off, so he gives up his ticket. few days later, jess' grandpa in ottawa passes away, and she gives up her ticket. 2 more days later and ling gets a kidney infection and gets admitted into the hospital. Down to just me. sigh. What are the chances ey? I ended up asking the entire China crew, and managed to get Lisa and Shane to come. goot goot.
bat-bat. Banquet day arrives, i work lunch till 5pm, and then Shane is supposed 2 come pick me up at 5 30. At 12 00pm, my contact tears a tiny tear. Crap.what are the friggen chances. I've never tore a contact in my life before. The stupid thing is, i ran out of contacts at home, but only TWO DAYS prior, i was at WEM and i said EXACTLY: hmm... maybe i should pick up some contacts..... naaaaw, this pair is brand new it'll last for a while. Fuck me in the asshole what are the chances. So anyways. i decided that i'd take off work at 4PM catch the 100# to WEM pick up a new pair, and then catch the 100# back in time for shane to pick me up. Jeebus, right at 4pm all these customers came in, and they all seemed to want to keep me from leaving. I didn't leave kyoto till 4 20, and i realized that I wouldn't be able to make it to WEM and back by 5 30. So i just stuck around for 2 hours. at 5 30 shane blakely still was not here. I called him and he told me he was at home ironing his shirt. Reason number 53 why i dont like that guy, is because he's always late. At 6pm he still wasn't here, and i called again. If your gonna be late gimme a call or something please. I coulda made it to WEM and back. Right before i changed into my dress, my contact tore right in half and it made my eye water like a bitch. So i took it out and just went w/ one contact for the next 5 hours. Painful yes. I can't believe I didn't die. *sigh*
i miss jess and ling and iris and cathy. just not the same
.....on a completely different side note. Tara's BF came for the first year. Him and mister blakely got along extremely well. scary because they both seem to be so opinionated. But anyways, i was my normal self i'm pretty sure, and shane was his normal self, and we were our normal selves. Right after shane left, josh turns and asks me, *so whats the deal between you guys you two sleep together?* WHOA,WHAT??! i was NOT expecting that question, and i was like NO! he might look like that kinda guy, but i'm not that kinda girl. *oh really? no nothing, sorry i just thought that you guys did it once in awhile cuz it kinda feels that way* .....seriously???? HOW? i never realized that thats what people who sleep around are like....

you are my waterloo

Today is February 1st.
Fuck me, i'm screwed. Today is the deadline for applications to Parsons, the Design school in NY that I wanted to apply to. I didn't send in an application. Why didn't I? I dunno. I was scared, and i procrastinated. First thing was, it required a portfolio. I actually *started* working on it in late december, planning out what I wanted to do, stuff like that. Then all this stuff started happening. my gramma went to the hospital, Jess moved out, Kyoto closed down and then re opened. Stuff just kept on happening. And then in January I finally started to put together my canvases. I actually stretched and primed them. And.... and then i just stopped. Fuck. i just lost my ambition. At first i was all *yeah lets get working*. And then i started laying in bed, thinking to myself. What the fuck, i'm not going to get in. All throughout university my instructors have told me that I can't draw, and I can't paint. I tried for 4 years to get into the BFA and i never even got considered once. How the fuck am I supposed to get accepted into New Yorks top design school? why the fuck of all things did they need a portfolio. And so i never started my portfolio. And my parents thing i submited my applications and everything. And i dont even know what to tell them. My parents put too much faith in me, and all i really am is a lying failure. My dad said to me *go apply wherever you want to go, don't be afraid, I know you'll get in* And when he said that i wanted to cry right there. Because he has so much faith and confidence in me, and i dont think i'm any good. So i didn't even try because I was scared that i was going to get rejected, and i wouldn't know what to do. But now that the deadlines passed. I'm still fucked. NOW what do I tell them.