wow it's been practically half a year since i've been here.  so much stress lately that i've decided to take a break for now and write a blog.  i really hate how i am sometimes.  scratch that...pretty much all the time.  it's not so much that i'm a last minute person, but the fact that no matter how simple a task is, if i dread it enough, i can't get myself to perform it.  the sad thing is, when most people know what the stem of their personal problem is, they go about fixing it.  Yet, for me, even if i know what is wrong, i can't get myself to mend what it is i am doing wrong.  i almost feel that it's not even the matter of not trying hard enough, but that i just can't seem to fix myself. 

I'm probably not making any sense at all.  But no matter, i was just writing that to spill out random thoughts that have been haunting my mind for the past couple of days. 

Recently, everyone has been working on college applications.  I have also been doing the same.  In result, i guess my stress level has been gradually increasing.  I don't think the stress is coming from the applications itself, but coming from the decisions i have to make during this pivotal point in life.  This sounds so dramatic, i can almost laugh.  But have we not all worked hard during the past four years ultimately for this point in life to condense in a small, neat application of all the work we went throught during the four years? 

I really wish i could be like some of those individuals who know what they want to be and where they want to go in life.  it's not that i feel confused, but that i feel directionless.  i can easily say that if i were to know what i want to be and where i would like my life to head, i would not feel the way i feel now.     

I have made a decision, upon reflection of how i feel about my future.  If i do not get into my top choices of college, i will readily attend community college.  Honestly, i don't think it is really as bad as people make it out to be.  You save money, do you not? And there's always the possibility of transfering.

I really wish that i could just take a long, deep slumber and let free all sorts of stress and pressure.  Not in a suicidal sense, but literally to do so.  Maybe then i could clear my mind and truly relieve myself of all these nagging thoughts which i can't seen to get rid of.  

NOTE:  ALL THOSE PIX I POSTED IN LINK IN MY LAST BLOG WERE TAKEN BY THE WONDERFUL PHOTOGRAPHER FRANCES CHAN. SHE TOOK THEM; NOT ME.

lol jen yoon crack me up>>>

http://artpad.art.com/gallery/?ifad2hkgdyc

EDIT:

KEY CLUB CONVENTION PICTURES....CHECK THEM OUT>>>>>>>>>

ALBUM 1:

http://www.imagestation.com/album/?id=2127914169

ALBUM 2:

http://www.imagestation.com/album/?id=2127913070

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Eigth Level of Hell - the Malebolge!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Take the Dante Inferno Hell Test

whoa haha i'm level 8!!! try this out people!

You know you're asian if...
-You never took off the pricetag on your shirt so you can still get a full refund if you find something cheaper.
-Your parents make you drink Fu Cha instead of going to the doctors.
-You own a pager, a cell phone, a MD player, and a Honda.
-You only shop at the flea market.
-You pronounce "z" as yee-set.
-People have troulbe prounoucing your full name.
-Your bangs are either long enough for you to touch with your tongue, or your hair is gelled up in spikes hard enough to impale small mammals.
-You call people "peepz" since two syllables is too complex for you.
-You don't know the names of cities; only area codes.
-You've never heard of any other sporting wear than Nike. (Reebok? What's that?)
-You can't buy a shirt unless it's priced over $40 and has a collossal sized Tommy Hillfiger or Polo label.

-Your dad is some sort of engineer.
-Your parents still tried to get you into places half-price saying you were 12 when you were really 15.
-When you're trying to pick up a chick, she asks if you can cook, and  you reply "Do I cook? Well, not really but I can whip up a pretty mean fried rice!"
-You can never address a friend without calling them "foo."
-You use the letter "z" in every other word when chatting.
-Your mother has a short-haired, curly perm.
-You ask your parents help on one math problem and 2 hours later they're still lecturing.
-You have a 40 lb. bag of rice in your pantry.
-You shop 99 Ranch.
-Everyone thinks you're "Chinese" no matter what part of Asia your ancestors were from.
-You've had a bowl haircut at one point in your life.
-Your parents enjoy comparing you to their friends' kids.
-You've had to sit through karaoke videos with scantily clad, ugly Asian women attempting to dance and walk around a temple, forest or library.
-Your aunts and uncles bring you back adorable clothing from Asia with fuzzy bunnies, vinyl ducks and English words that make no sense, in great colors like yellow, pink, magenta, orange and the ever popular lime green.
-Your parents insist you marry within your race.
-You never order chop suey, sweet and sour pork, or any other imitation oriental food.
-Your parents have never kissed you.
-Your parents have never kissed each other.
-You learned about the birds and the bees from someone other than your parents.
-"You want a stereo! When I was your age, I didn't even have shoes!!"
-People see a bunch of scribbles on a chopstick and ask you to translate.
-You have to call just about all your parent's friends "Auntie and Uncle."
-You have 12+ aunts and uncles.
-At expensive restaurants, you order a delicious glass of water for your beverage and NEVER order dessert.
-Your parents simply cut the green/black part off the bread and say "Eat it anyway. It's still good."
-You will most likely be taller than your parents.
-Your parents have either made you play the piano, the violin or both.
-You get nothing if you do well in school, but get in big trouble if you don't.
-When going to other peoples' houses, you always have to bring a gift.
-Your dad still pulls his socks up to his knees, you know, the ones with the blue and pink stripes at the top.
-Your family always cheers for the Asian athlete on TV (i.e., Michael Chang, Michelle Kwan).
-The furniture in your house never matches the wallpaper, the carpet, the decorations or any of the rest of the furniture.
-You have rocks, sticks, leaves and strange-smelling, unknown substances in your pantry for use as  medicine.
-You own a rice cooker or two.
-You buy soy sauce by the gallon.
-Your family owns butcher knives bigger than your head.
-Your parents tell you about how long it took for them to get to school, how horrible the weather was in their native country, and how much they still appreciated going.
-Your parents buy you clothes and shoes many sizes too big so you can "grow into it" and wear it for years to come.
-Your parents expect you'll be best friends with any one off the street in any given area as long as they are Asian.
-An Asian woman comes on campus and people ask: "Is that your mother? Well then, is it your sister?"
-Your relatives' houses smell like incense, mothballs or both.
-Everyone thinks you're good at math.
-Your parents' vocabulary is filled with "Ai-yahs and Wah's."
-You like $1.75 movies.
-You like $1.50 movies even more.
-You hear (your name + eee (optional) + yah!) every time someone calls you. (e.g., Jean- ee - yah! or Mary -yah!).
- Idiot people try to impress you with pathetic imitation Asian languages, like the ever-so-popular: ching chong woo bok chi, etc...
-Your parents say leaving rice in your bowl is a sin.
-Your ancestors 1000 generations back invented the back scratcher.
-At least one family member wears black wire/plastic frame glasses.
-Your parents say, "Don't forget your heritage."
-You drive mostly Japanese cars.
-You've learned to keep bargaining even if the prices are rock bottom.
-You've had to eat parts of animals they don't even put in hot dogs.
-You've ever gotten little red envelopes around February.
-Piles of shoes tend to make it hard to open the front, back and closet doors.
-Your main source of yearly income is Chinese New Year or your Birthday.
-Your hero is Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan, or Jet Li.
-Your parents won't let you date until you are in college.
=You have a "Powered By Honda" sticker on your dropped civic.

Setting: nighttime in a futuristic cityscape.  In the city, a brown haired man is in a high-speed chased by many city authorities on feet.  During the last seconds, the man makes a desperate escape across a bridge, only to realize that he is confined by pursuers on both ends.  In a brief moment, the authorities overtake and capture the man.

            They hold him down, and inform him that the invention of his identical biological counterpart evidently surpassed the limits which the government placed upon laboratory science.  The man seems to already know of this fact but is unwilling to confront it.  The authorities know that this man they detained is the original, while the other one is a branch of him that was artificially created.  Upon knowing so, the authorities tell the man that he is bestowed the final decision for himself: to choose the continual existence of one individual, and the obliteration of the other, based on who has a more significant reason to existence.  The man momentarily breaks down upon his knees and cries out in anguish, “Why can’t you accept both parts of me?” 

All becomes pivotal at this dramatic instant, as the man is forced to make the decision.  And it becomes clear to me—a former observer prior to this moment—the thoughts and emotions within this man.  For the first time, I can truly feel the distress the man goes through.  Every breath I take seems summon a sharp, unbearable feeling of discontent within my chest; I know that this feeling is what connects me to the protagonist of the dream. 

Almost instantaneously right after the man breaks down on his knees, he feels a surge of rebellion and bitter protest within himself to fights for the existence of both him and his other self until the very end, as desperate and virtually impossible as it seems. 

This was a dream I had a couple days ago.  At first, I found it strange and confusing with absolutely no sense at all.  However, after a period of pondering, I felt that this dream makes a rather odd connection with our culture.  The lack of choices for the man in the dream strikes a similar comparison to how limitations are placed upon the individuals in our culture.  This dream provoked an interesting thought: Do cultural ideals render us doomed to limit ourselves and restrict our diverse characteristics in order to comply with the social order?

Perhaps a more optimistic view can be taken into account.  During the last parts of the dream, the man reveals a reluctance to act in accordance with what he is told to do.  This reluctance and continual struggle offers a bit of hope at the very end.  Upon a closer inspection, it seems that the thought of the doom of characteristic diversity in our world can be revoked—or perhaps not revoked, but in a sense given a gleam of optimism—since all individuals still have the option to battle against it. This impression, although not felt in the end of the dream, offsets a certain degree of reassurance in which characteristic diversity is possibly not inevitably doomed by cultural standards in our world after all.           

J later