The Ongoing Battle

When I think of the people that I'd describe as prideful, oftentimes this pride comes hand-in-hand with insecurity. Obviously, there are certain people where the pride comes from the proper source: self-confidence that is impervious to external influence. But more often than not, the prideful ones constantly need validation. It sounds contradictory, but I don't know how else to explain it. The first time I noticed this was my freshman year of college; one friend would often say all sorts of outlandish statements about her beauty and looks, but upon closer inspection, it was clear that her vanity was a coverup for deep-rooted insecurities about her desirability.

The quality I tend to get most pig-headed about? My writing ability. The thing though, is that it's always a constant struggle for me to believe that it's something I'm good at. Even if I try to warm myself up by recalling any compliments I've received in the past, they do little to comfort me in the long run. There's always this fear that my writing has gotten worse over time, or that I may lose this skill at any moment. I don't think this fear is completely unfounded. I coincidentally started making big strides with EP around the same time my roommate and I started an exercise routine. In the beginning I dreaded going to the gym. It wasn't even that bad once I was actually in the gym, but the mental battle of not wanting to go huffing and puffing on the elliptical was the worst. Same thing with writing. Frankly, I was out of shape: words didn't come as naturally as they used to, but the biggest problem was getting over the mental hurdle. I knew the stuff I was churning out was sub-par, and it was more comfortable to just close Word and go watch another episode of City Hunter.

I can be pretty hypercritical about my own writing, but interestingly enough, I am also rather sensitive about others criticizing my writing. One reason why I think my English major was valuable in helping me improve is that the class workshops forced me to get used to sharing my stuff. But even so, I dreaded the days when I'd have to pass out copies of my work and everyone in the room would have a discussion about it. Nobody ever said anything mean to me, but it was always nerve-wracking wondering if people secretly thought my writing was a godawful piece of melodrama stuffed with purple prose.

Similarly, I can get very sensitive about putting myself out there on social media. I rarely ever post Facebook statuses and I generally stay away from writing comments. I see lots of people on my newsfeed who end up relying on social media to validate their self-worth--hence, all the narcissistic posts fishing for "likes" and comments. Even when I change a profile picture, I start paying an exorbitant amount of attention to whether or not people have been "liking" my photo. And I hate behaving like this, so I try to avoid posting anything in the first place.

So when my mother asked me to share a link about the Sunflower Movement (aka the Taiwanese student protests), I knew what I should do, but I was terrified. I wrote a concise explanation of the protest that I asked both my mother and YY to proofread for me, and I decided I'd post the status at noon for maximum exposure. But during the few hours while I was waiting for noon, I was stressed out of my mind. I thought of the FB friends who support the Taiwanese blue party and wondered if they were all going to chew me out publicly. Then I wondered if I would be fruitlessly yelling out into a vacuum, and all I'd get would be one pity "like" from my mother. Mind you, this was before I'd even posted ANYTHING.

Well, 22 hours later, I am happy to report that I got more than just one pity "like" from my mother. Last I checked, there were 43 likes and 7 comments. Quite a number of "likes" were from people I didn't even dream would read my post. To them, it was probably nothing more than a mindless tap on the smartphone screen, but I'm embarrassed to admit how happy it made me feel. Nobody said anything bad; in fact, most of the comments thanked me for sharing and some even complimented me for my well-written analysis. In fact, my favorite English teacher from high school even commented to say so. That literally made my day.

All in all, this episode probably just proves that I am still ridiculously reliant on others to feel good about myself. But I can't deny that it spurred a big boost in writing productivity yesterday. And that's always a WIN in my book.

Potpourri

- I AM SO EXCITED FOR CAPTAIN AMERICA: WINTER SOLDIER. People often say he's boring and goody-goody and whatnot, but he's my favorite Avenger. And the reviews I've read have been awesome so far. Also, I may have read some minor spoilers but there's a heartstrings-tugging scene that I am dying to watch.

- I never got the appeal of Lorde's "Royals," which unfortunately made me write her off as someone who wasn't my cup of tea. Then she started promoting "Team" and I thought, Okay. This is better. Then this weekend S was playing "Glory and Gore" in her car, and when I asked her about the song, she also told me to check out "Tennis Court." Now I'm wondering why they promoted "Royals" so heavily, because I've been hooked on the other songs. Maybe my tastes are just not quite aligned with the general population.

- Dunno if I'll watch it anytime soon (I didn't love the series), but I'm glad Divergent did so well in the box office. Every time a YA-movie adaptation is released, I get all anxious about whether or not it's gonna bomb. Cuz people shit on YA all the time as the lowbrow entertainment of choice for hormonal teenage girls. Also, this bingo card pretty much sums up all the irritating things I see whenever a new article disparaging YA springs out of the ground like a dandelion every other month:

- Yesterday I discovered Tinashe and started listening to "2 On" and "Ecstasy." Her style really reminds me of 2000's R&B--which Sevyn Streeter's "It Won't Stop" and Jhene Aiko also seem to emulate. And while I like this type of music, it also occurred to me that I'm getting to the point that the stuff I grew up with can have trendy "revivals." Yikes. But okay--I like this stuff better than the EDM pop phase, but someone needs to bring back the female rappers from that 2000's era.

- This weekend I learned firsthand just how much conspiracy theorists can drive me up a wall. Long story short, I ended up in a 1 vs 2 argument over a ridiculous, nonsensical theory regarding the missing Malaysian Airlines plane. It almost felt a bit like a debate between evolutionist and a creationist. People will believe what they want to believe. But really, where is the plane??

- Speaking of current events in Asia, I am very confused about what's going on in Taiwan. It's not covered extensively in Western media and I can't really read Chinese news. A Facebook friend of mine (went to high school in Taiwan, went to Duke for college) wrote this FB status-essay-thing about it, and 50 people or so "liked" the status with multiple people left supporting comments. My reaction was a bit different. First, I was confused what his point was, because the beginning seemed something like "Can't we all get along? Why resort to violence by taking over a government building?" and then it suddenly diverged to something about how the rest of the world doesn't even view Taiwan as a country and how there should be doing a goal-oriented protest instead of people being fueled by rage and hormones and jumping to conclusions, and then finally he capped things off by saying that as youths of Taiwan, "instead of being stuck in the past, we should be thinking about how to improve the future." Huh? People kept complimenting him on such a well-written post, and I was like, ummm okay? And your point is that people should stop being angry? How is that any more goal-oriented than the protestors?

Side note: then I scrolled down and saw this kid (must be a mainlander, based on his comment and last name) whose comment about Taiwanese people being arrogant really ticked me off. Which I will explain in a second.

Anyways, so I sent an e-mail to my mom asking her on her opinion, and we had a conversation back and forth about it. Disclaimer: my Taiwanese family has generally been politically green--that is, they believe that Taiwan is independent from China. So naturally, that's the perspective I've been raised in, so I guess I would be considered an "arrogant" Taiwanese-American. Anyways, my mom's explanation (with some grammar edits lol):

The Taiwanese president Ma wants to pass the trade deal with China as a whole package without discussion. That's why people are against it. The procedure of writing the deal is not legally transparent and the consequence is devastating. For example, in the deal, as long as a person in China invests 200K USD, he can bring three people to Taiwan. They will each be granted with legal citizen ID with benefits like national health care, and it means that each of them will have a vote in the future election. Since Taiwan is so small, in this way, China can just BUY Taiwan easily without military force.

The people in Taiwan who already own a lot of properties will benefit from this deal, because China's buying power will buy everything and make them rich. But, if you look at it from the young people's view point, their future is rather grim. China's buying power will make the Taiwanese real estate in high demand and high price, which young people can't afford. The health care and other kinds of social services have been in a gigantic debt and that will be the young generation's burden. Once all the big business are under Chinese investment control and the small business can't survive, it means their bosses will control them all.

China's investments have bought out some of the Taiwan media groups, that's why the news you hear is not two-sided. The volunteers of the student movement are collecting donations and going to buy one-page ad on New York Times. (They collected enough donations in one day.) These students are in their early twenties. In the past 14 years, they've witnessed the rotting process of Taiwan politics. Now they see the older generation is going to hand them an even grimmer future. How can they not be angry?

And yes, I can't deny that I may be biased towards a specific side, even though I know very little about Taiwanese politics. But the grim future is real; I understood it for myself when I saw all the problems with Taiwanese national health care two years ago. Frankly, this is more than just arrogance or rage or hormones. This is about a country that is sliding into the toilet, and the problem lies in a difference in opinion on the best way to turn things around.

Mint

"Mint is a perennial, sprouting up year after year, and the plant is hard to kill. Mint loves water, but it can survive a drought. Mint loves light, but it can survive the darkness. Mint prefers well-drained soil, but it can survive in clay. I once left a pot of mint unattended while I was on vacation; a month later, the terracotta planter held a brown plant cadaver. But then it rained. The next day, the carcass sprouted a leaf.

Mint is invasive. You must plant it within a container to control its domain. However, its stolons can still jump a pot and once in the open soil, it thrives and spreads with aggressive vigor and chokes the life out of other plants. Mint is unstoppable.

Mint transforms others within proximity. If you plant mint straight into the ground, you must keep it separate from other herbs. It will make its surrounding neighbors taste like mint, too.

Mint is the smell of the oil my yoga teacher rubs on my temples as I collapse in corpse pose at the end of class. Anointed, I lay breathing and emulating the dead, try to approach the brink of a dark sleep. I attempt to wipe my mind clean, but the mint invades all thoughts, keeps me awake. The mint smells like rape."

http://therumpus.net/2014/03/mint/

Trigger warning for rape. But this is one of the most artfully written essays I've read in a while. 

Chandelier

I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier
I'm gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist
Like it doesn't exist
I'm gonna fly like a bird through the night, feel my tears as they dry
I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier

-- "Chandelier" by Sia

--------------------------------------------------------- 
THIS is the song that Miley Cyrus' "Wrecking Ball" aspired to be. Now all Sia needs to do is to swing naked on a chandelier for the music video.

Random Pop Thought of the Day, #2

Last month, I wrote about Katy Perry and her culture-appropriation tactics to promote Prism, specifically donning geisha garb for "Unconditionally" and affronting Muslims with an Allah pendant in the Egypt-themed "Dark Horse." Beneath under all that headline-making tomfoolery, however, is the plain fact the songs she's promoted for Prism grate on my nerves. The chorus of "Unconditionally" is a bane to my ears and I found "Dark Horse" tolerable until all the Egypt stuff started going on, and by then I was so done with the Katy Perry machine that I peaced out.

Now, let's talk about a pop song that's gotten me in a bit of a jam, in that I should dislike the song for its lyrical content, but damn it, every time it plays on the radio my roommate and I immediately start bouncing around to the beat.

I'm talking about Jason Derulo's "Talk Dirty."

The first time I heard this song was on the radio in my roommate's car as we were heading home from brunch at a German cafe. My roommate and I have always joked about how Jason Derulo never fails to say his own name somewhere in his song, and usually it's an autotuned sing-songy rendition of "Jasoooon Deruuuuloooo." Except in "Talk Dirty," a woman says his name prissily in heavily accented English at the beginning of the song.

Me: "Wait, is that supposed to be an Asian accent?"

*I'm still not sure what accent it's supposed to be, but there's a reason why I jumped to the conclusion that it was Asian. Back in the golden era of my physical fitness, aka middle school when I played tennis 2.5 hours x 7 days a week, there were two brothers who practiced at the same clinic I went to. Their mother played favorites, and it was very obvious even in the way she'd say their names. With the older brother, his name would usually come out in a ferocious bark. With the younger brother, it'd come out several notches higher in pitch and come out in a sugary, accented lilt: "Jaaaaasonnnn!"

Anyways, the rest of "Talk Dirty' goes on to talk about how Jason is an indiscriminate, international lover of women as sexual objects. If you sit down and actually read the lyrics, they're pretty... um, yeah.

Been around the world, don't speak the language
But your booty don't need explaining
All I really need to understand is
When you talk dirty to me

The rap verses featuring 2 Chainz has even more explicit degrading stuff, so yeah... go look it up yourself. But I do have to admit my ears perked up when I heard the word "Taiwan" in the lyrics. Holy pomelo, is this the first time Taiwan's been mentioned in a Billboard-topping song?

I know what the girl them want,
London to Taiwan
I got lipstick stamps on my passport
I think I need a new one

It's a little disappointing that this is the context of its first major appearance in the lyrical arena, but oh well. Anyways, the song concludes with that same accented maybe-Asian girl who giggles and goes, "Wat? I don undastand!"

So there you have it. The whole song is lyrically a mess. It falls into the usual trap of portraying ethnic women as exotic sexual commodities without a voice--in fact, it's clear that it doesn't matter if they can't be understood, because the only thing we care about is the fact that they can put out.

I should hate this song. But I don't, because THIS SONG IS SO DAMN CATCHY. That saxophone line at the end of each chorus? Whenever it plays on the radio, my roommate and I start dancing every single time.

Damn it Jason Derulo, why couldn't you sing about baby squirrels or doing laundry, or I dunno--something universally harmless--to this song instead?? Then I wouldn't be stuck with this moral/ethical quandary and wondering if I am morally obligated to skip your song on the radio.

ETA: Well, I found a suitable alternative thanks to some Google sleuthing. The melodic line of the saxophone was apparently sampled from "Hermetico" by Balkan Beat Box, so there we go--something I can listen to without feeling guilty:



A remix, I believe, that's also pretty catchy:

Book Report: Prodigy and Champion

I reviewed the first book in the trilogy by Marie Lu more than a year ago, back during the winter of my senior year when I finally managed to get my hands on some of the most recently popular YA dystopian books. Out of the three I reviewed, Legend was my favorite--but it faded from my memory rather quickly. I bought the boxed set for the trilogy during Amazon's holiday lightning deal sales. It was more of a financial calculation on my part, as I paid a pretty awesome price for three hardcover books. Normally I don't buy a physical copy of a book unless I absolutely adore it. And, to be honest, I didn't adore Legend.

And so, this boxed set unopened sat in my closet for almost three months, until today. Normally, I probably wouldn't have spent my Friday evening binge-reading for six hours straight. However, a friend of mine introduced me to this particular game yesterday, and I'd gotten so addicted to it that my eyes were swimming from staring at the computer screen for so long. In order to salvage my poor eyes, I decided to take a break from the computer and read those books. (Don't remind me that I still haven't finished Love in the Time of Cholera or Nights at the Circus...)

I skimmed through Legend briefly in hopes of triggering my memory about the plot. Just enough so that I could figure out what was going on what I jumped into Prodigy. After I finished Prodigy, I jumped straight into Champion, so I'll be talking about the books in terms of the overall series, rather than individual books.

Legend series by Marie Lu

If I ask someone to give me a YA dystopian series, chances are they're either going to say Suzanne Collins' Hunger Games series or maybe even Veronica Roth's Divergent series. Funny enough, there's something else those two series have in common--the third book of each trilogy received enormous backlash after its highly-anticipated release. I still haven't read Mockingjay because many of my friends told me not to bother, and I wasn't invested enough in the series to do so. I also haven't gotten around to reading Allegiant either, but again--I didn't love the series and when I already got wind of why exactly everyone was so outraged by that book, I felt even less compelled to hunt down a copy.

Which is why I'm even more amazed by what Marie Lu managed to achieve with Champion. The third book was easily my favorite out of the trilogy. I've talked about TEABS (The End of Awesome Book Syndrome) before in my book reports. For me, this usually involves feeling emotionally drained and strung out like a wire--but in a good, cathartic way. The ending is an emotional one, and though I always joke that my tear ducts have been surgically removed, I can easily imagine people bawling their eyes out in the last few chapters of this one.

In regards to my personal taste in stories, I'm typically (though with exceptions) more interested in character studies than the intricacies of world-building. If I don't feel anything for the characters, even an outstanding premise might not be enough to save me. To tell you the truth, I was only moderately engaged in the dystopian United States that Marie Lu built in this series. I did think a lot of it was quite interesting, like how Antarctica becomes a highly technologically-innovative nation that keeps it citizens in check with a video-game-esque point system, or how the United States split into two nations reminiscent of present-day North and South Korea. But I feel like the Legend series was less focused on examining its dystopian elements, than say the Hunger Games, which I think ponders more about the nature of rebellion and the Capitol culture in our own society today. The biggest threat in Legend is biological warfare in the form of a man-made virus--hence, the connection to present-day is a little more tenuous.

Spoilers follow, so read at your own risk.

The plot in Prodigy and Champion is fast-paced, and the action runs quickly. However, there weren't really any major twists that surprised me, except maybe the revelation that Matias, June's brother, was in love with the man who ultimately betrayed and killed him, Thomas. I don't know if it's because the glut of recent dystopian releases has made me more immune to these plot twists, but I anticipated quite a number of the story developments that occurred, especially in Prodigy. Who can you trust in these political games? Obviously, it will never be the first person you meet that offers a perfect solution to everything.

The series also, to my surprise, relies on a lot of tropes I frequently see in manga and Asian dramas. At the end of Prodigy, Day is told he is terminally ill, and so he breaks up with June without telling her the real reason, because he thinks she deserves better. Even Big Bang had a music video based on that premise (see: "Haru Haru"--which throws in a fake palliative boyfriend aka THE BADASS ONE into the mix). At the end of Champion, Day recovers from a successful operation that cures him of his disease, but he's left with retrograde amnesia which erases all trace of June from his memory--which June believes was the trade-off for praying to the gods to save his life. I believe Hana Yori Dango also employed this tactic on Domiyouji, until a bunch of cookies brought his memory back?

I haven't quite digested how I feel about the use of those tropes. On one hand, when I first realized what Lu was doing, I let out a mental groan--because these are tricks I've seen over and over again. But on the other hand, cliches can work--if they're done well. I feel less warm about how Day handles his diagnosis by breaking up with June--the confusion is cleared up rather simply in the third book, when June realizes what's happening to Day when the news report that he's been hospitalized. I still feel like this part could have been handled more creatively. But the retrograde amnesia part worked for me. Those last few chapters were what left me stumbling.

Yes, it was cliche, but it worked for me because Marie Lu earned it. She cultivated the relationship between Day and June across three books, and she'd taken great pains to show that as much as those two loved each other, they would always remind each other of the enormous pain they'd caused each other. When June realizes that Day is free from his memory of her, and she walks out of his life and lets him go, you want to cry with her because after all they've fought for, she's giving him the ultimate sacrifice she can give for his happiness. Lu includes a Ten-Years-Later epilogue at the end, which leaves the series on a bittersweet and somewhat hopeful note. It's also a fairly cliche scene, as one might dramatically imagine what would happen if an amnesiac crosses paths with a former love. I think most readers would need this scene of hope at the end. I still have mixed feelings on it, as it teeters dangerously towards sappiness but, deep down, I want Day and June to be happy together. Even with my notorious penchant for tragedies, that's how much I rooted for them in the end.

Wisdom at Age 22

A few months ago, I was asked a question along the lines of, "What has been your favorite age?" My response was something like, "The age I'm at right now, because I'm always getting wiser."

Sure, I'll admit there's a bit of romanticism about the "milestone" years, but looking back I wouldn't mind smacking my former selves a bit.

I would tell my 16-year-old self to get to know my favorite high school teachers better and to be friendlier with everyone in general, even if I have no real interest in being BFFs with them or if I secretly think they're immature/vapid/incompetent/dumb-as-bricks.

I would tell my 18-year-old self to stop measuring my self-worth with my GPA and learn how to study smarter, not harder.

I would tell my 21-year-old self not to take the people around me for granted and learn how to show affection every once in awhile.

Why did I think of this recently? I had a phone call with my mother yesterday, and at one point in the conversation, she told me she ran into A's mother at the farmer's market on Saturday. Like all Asian mothers are wont to do, they started tittering about what their children were up to these days. My mom told her that I was likely heading to New Orleans for med school in the fall. Well, A's mother reacted in dismay in light of this news (aiyah!), and she said something about how her darling A had been disappointed about going to Northwestern for medical school.

Hello shit, meet fan.

My response to that was less than artful. It probably sounded really defensive, actually. But the gist of it was something like, considering how effectively my sense of entitlement had been squashed at Duke, all I was really hoping for was just getting into ANY school. Nevermind UCSF or JHU or whatnot.

A and I were both among the twelve high school valedictorians in our graduating class who'd maintained a 4.0 GPA all four years, so I guess you could say we started off at the same level, until A chose Berkeley over Penn for undergrad and I chose Duke over Berkeley. I will fully admit that part of my decision in choosing Duke at the time was out of pride. Quite a number of people at my high school end up at Berkeley each year, while usually only one or two people get into Duke. And, seeing as I was used to being at the top of my class back then, I wanted to be "that one girl that went to Duke" as opposed to "one of the twenty that went to Berkeley."

Stuck-up mentality, perhaps? Well, I don't regret choosing Duke one bit. Sure, I was chewed up and spit out during those four years, but for all the ups and downs, it made me who I am today. There's also something to be said about going to a school with so much school spirit. My high school had zero school pride, because our cliques rarely wanted anything to do with each other. The thing about Duke is, because it gets shitted on so much by everyone else (dook, puke, I've heard it all), we tend to band together in an us-versus-them mentality. Also, having a consistently great basketball team to root for is always fun. (side note: Jabari Parker might be my favorite Duke player ever, since I started following the team in 2009)

//end Sophelia's Ode to Duke

But back on topic. Maybe A did exceptionally well at Berkeley and had the stats to get into NW Med. Maybe I would have had a better GPA if I'd chosen to attend a different undergrad school But it's moot to think like this because there's no point in dwelling on the what-could-have-beens.

One piece of wisdom I adopted during my time at Duke is to accept that everything happens the way it's meant to be. You try your best whenever you have the agency to do so, but accept the outcome whatever it happens to be. I've come to believe that the universe will throw obstacles in your path in order to nudge you towards the direction you're meant to take.

It took me a long time to accept this. I spent several years believing I was a big fat disappointment. I was rejected from the five other private undergraduate universities I applied for, including the prestigious HYPS. My parents' disappointment was quite palpable; in fact, my mother even told me so. It was still a sore spot for me three years later, when my younger brother managed to achieve everything I'd failed to do: place as a finalist on the first try at the piano competition I'd competed in twice and only placed as semifinalist each time; earn a perfect score on the SAT; gain all those research internships I'd only half-heartedly tried to get and was rejected from; receive acceptance letters from every school he applied to except good ole Yale.

Not gonna lie. At times, it was a hard pill to swallow, watching your only sibling achieve everything your parents had piled their hopes on you at one point. But by then, I was already in my junior year of college, and I'd come to realize that while all those expectations they'd placed on me had been appropriate for my brother, but they hadn't been right for me. I never wanted to be a scientific researcher. I didn't love science the way I loved English. (This became exceptionally clear when I found myself reading critical essays on English literature via JSTOR for fun. Would I ever look up scientific papers for fun? Not likely.) Duke ended up being the right place for me, in that I was able to earn a second major in English without running through major hoops (a near-impossible feat to do at a place like Harvard).

And just to clarify, I am proud of my brother. I will brag about my sibling to anybody whenever I have the chance.

Time will tell, but I'm optimistic that New Orleans will be a good place for me. There's so much culture and artistic history in the city, and there's a huge emphasis on service at the school I've been accepted to. Moreover, I'm not pursuing a medical degree in hopes of becoming the top researcher in the world. I want a career that will allow me to interact with people, to observe life at the crossroads of human mortality like Chekhov and William Carlos Williams. I was so unhappy through the tail-end of my teenage years because I let other people dictate what my ambitions were. Now that I know what I want for myself, I shouldn't let people like A's mother get me down, right?

Apparently, I still need to learn how to grow a thicker skin. But I'm getting there.

Summer 2014 Preview

Though nothing's been finalized yet, there is a high possibility I will be traveling through Europe with my mother for 16 days in the early summer. Instead of backpacking around on our own schedule, we picked out a tour group (bc I am too busy/lazy to sit down and plan my own itinerary, plus these guys are supposed to be real legit), and I already got permission from my supervisor to GTFO for two weeks. No one in my family except my father has ever been to Europe, so needless to say, my artiste mother and I are jetting it over before I say bye-bye to freedom and start my medical training.

Anyways, I am super excited because FRANCE. We picked a tour that was mainly limited to France, so yeah--I won't be going through all those other places I've been curious about, like Prague (Daughter of Smoke and Bone!), Athens (Greek mythology!), or anywhere in Italy (Food!). I'm not too bummed though, because although my French (4 years of high school, woot) is essentially nonfunctional these days, time has not gotten rid of my interest in France one bit. So to dial up my anticipation even further, I've decided to look up photos of all the places I shall be seeing and post them here.

First Stop: Amsterdam
I'm not familiar with Amsterdam, except maybe Gus and Hazel's little excursion in The Fault in Our Stars, but I love flower gardens and Keukenhof Gardens looks like MY KIND OF PARADISE.

Keukenhof Gardens

National Museum Rijksmuseum

Second Stop: Brussels
We studied Belgium briefly in my high school French class, but really the only thing that comes to mind nowadays is the fact that one of my childhood favorite tennis players, Kim Clijsters, is from Belgium. And Belgian chocolate, obviously.

I dunno which landmarks we'll be seeing in Brussels, but this place looks awesome.

Third Stop: Paris
Out of all the stops, this is probably the one I am the most thoroughly familiar with. In fact, I recall having to plan a Paris itinerary for one of my homework assignments in French class. I distinctly remember splurging a bunch of my "allotted money" by staying in a suite at the Ritz and skimping on transportation money (i.e. walk everywhere).

Also, I was a big fan of the film Paris Je T'aime back in high school, so my memory's still pretty good in regards to a number of Parisian landmarks.

Way too many places to pick in Paris! Here's a nice collage though.

Fourth Stop: Versailles
Okay, I am REALLY excited about this one, and I'm not even really sure why. Maybe I really enjoy looking at nice, expensive things? I've always wondered what it's like to live in these fancy royal palaces.

Hall of Mirrors, Château de Versailles

Fifth Stop: Giverny
I'm sure my mother will be flipping out over this one: Monet's garden and home. I'm curious how the place stacks up in reality versus all of the Impressionist paintings I've seen, having grown up with an artist mother who's dragged me to art museums all throughout my childhood.

Familiar bridge? Claude Monet's garden in Giverny

Sixth Stop: Rouen (Normandy)
In Mme. M's class my junior year, we split into groups and were each assigned to do a presentation on a city/region in France. I think someone was assigned to do Normandy, but honestly I remember nothing about Rouen. Apparently it's where Joan d'Arc was executed.

Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Rouen

Seventh Stop: Mont Saint-Michel
Okay, someone definitely did a presentation on Normandy, because I distinctly remembering seeing photos of Mont Saint-Michel on a powerpoint slide and thinking, "SOMEONE TAKE ME THERE."

Mont Saint-Michel

Also, when Tangled came out while I was in college, I remember seeing a wide-angle shot of the castle and going, "Whoaaaa that is totally Mt. St. Michel." I still haven't gotten the chance to see sky lanterns in real life (I was thissssss close to seeing them in Taiwan, no thanks to the typhoon that decided to show up during my last week), but I got the boat part of my Tangled fantasy down when I was in Quang Tri, Vietnam. During one of the Remembrance Day ceremonies that summer, a villager took a couple of us into the river on her wooden boat, and when she cut the engine, we were surrounded in the still darkness by thousands of water lanterns. Most surreal moment of my life.

Anyways. My dream is to experience Tangled's sky-lantern scene in real life, and I have no problem with doing the boat, lantern, and castle parts separately if that's what it takes.

Like twinsies, RIGHT??

Eighth Stop: Loire Valley
I also don't remember much about the Loire Valley region, but DID SOMEONE SAY CASTLES?

Château de Chambord

Château de Chenonceau

Ninth Stop: Tours
Not sure exactly which landmarks we'll be seeing in Tours, but it sounds like we'll be staying in a chateau there overnight.

Place Plumereau

Tenth Stop: Cognac
And now, we commence the portion of our tour where for once, I am finally of legal age to partake in the consumption of alcohol. I couldn't find much info about Cognac online (besides the drink itself), but apparently we'll be touring a distillery.

Taken directly from the Wikipedia entry for Cognac, France

Eleventh Stop: Bordeaux
Wine! Admittedly I'm the farthest from a wine connoisseur as you can get; I attended a Senior Etiquette class at Duke last year, and when we got to the wine-tasting portion and people were saying all sorts of things about tasting "a hint of watermelon" and "rich smokiness," I was just like uhhhhh OKAY. However, I still have yet to go wine-tasting--an experience I am very curious about.

Wine village St. Émilion

Twelfth Stop: Lourdes
Unfortunately, everything I learned about Lourdes has been transplanted by images of Madonna's daughter and budding fashionista who said something about how gladiator sandals were tacky the summer I was parading around Taiwan in knee-high gladiator sandals. (People complimented my badassness, so whatever you say, Lourdes...)

A quick Google search tells me Lourdes is home to one of the Roman Catholic pilgrimage sites and one of the approved Marian apparition sites. (Apparently the one I visited at La Vang in Vietnam was not officially approved? I wonder how the approval process for these things work.)

The Grotto of Massabielle

Thirteenth Stop: Andorra
Oh, Andorra. I remember taking a geography quiz where we each received a blank map and had to label all of the countries around France. And Andorra, you were the only country that stopped me from getting 100%. Why? I didn't even realize I'd forgotten about you--because you're so tiny that you weren't even marked on the map! Andorra is right in the Pyrenees, so hopefully it won't be freezing cold when I go...

Andorra

Fourteenth Stop: Carcassonne
This is one of the places I actually remember learning about in class, ha-ha. The word "carcass" in there might give you an idea of the medieval history behind this walled city. Also, it's the namesake for that board game. (I played it for the first time last year and won with major beginner's luck because I somehow managed to get all of the church tiles.)

Carcassonne

Fifteenth Stop: Arles
My mother is probably also gonna go crazy over this place, as this is where Van Gogh lived for a while. I believe he painted over 300 paintings during that time.

Café Terrace at Night

Sixteenth Stop: Avignon
I recall Avignon being most famous for the Palais des Papes (or maybe Picasso's "Les Desmoiselles d'Avignon.... hahahaa just kidding), but what I really want to see are the lavender fields.

Palais des Papes

Lavender field

Seventeenth Stop: Nîmes
I don't even remember learning about Nîmes, but apparently it's famous for the heavy Roman Empire influence that can still be seen today.

Arènes de Nîmes

Pont du Gard

Eighteenth Stop: Cannes
And now, we arrive at the Côte d'Azur, or French Riviera. Tbh, the only thing I remember about Cannes is the film festival, but this place totally screams beach-vacation-hotspot. And some of the photos of the place look very familiar---was To Catch a Thief filmed in Cannes?

Cannes

Nineteenth Stop: Nice
My friend S's favorite city in the world. I remember a classmate did a presentation on Nice, and Mme. M was telling us that the nude beaches really aren't that exciting because most people just don't look good in their birthday suits... well, not like I was planning to go those places anyway LOL.

Nice

Twentieth Stop: Monte Carlo
FINALLY, we get to the place that I actually researched for my class project! Monte Carlo is obviously most famous for its casinos, though personally I was more smitten by the fact that Grace Kelly was the princess of Monaco. Also, Wikipedia has answered my question, and apparently To Catch a Thief was filmed in Monte Carlo, not Cannes.

Monte Carlo Casino

AND THAT'S ALL, FOLKS. Awesome, right?? Sure, I'm a little bummed I won't be trying the bouillabaisse at Marseille or admiring the Grand Île at Strasbourg, but still--don't want to overdose on too much awesomeness all at once...

omg... I literally just spent like the last three hours looking at photos...

Progress Report No.7

Yup, the blog looks different doesn't it? I actually have no sense of how often I change the layout here, but it is definitely not a frequent occurrence. Anyhoo, I got rid of the Monamur (links) section, cleaned-up the Bio and Writing pages, changed the serif fonts to sans-serif (supposed to be easier to read on the computer), and moved stuff around. Partly because I was tired of work, partly because I've lost a wee bit of momentum in EP and was trying to avoid having to think about my problems. But hopefully this progress report will clear my head a bit.

I forget if I've already explained some of the drastic outlining revisions I made, so bear with me while I backtrack a bit and explain some of the overarching decisions I made about the story structure.

Firstly, I've always envisioned the story as one stand-alone novel. Trilogies work for complicated, sweeping epics like Lord of the Rings or Daughter of Smoke and Bone. EP? No way. The thing about trilogies is that if the overall arc has to be split into separate books, then each individual book still needs to maintain its own micro-narrative drive while pushing the overall arc. Say what you want about Bella and her boohoo-ing in New Moon, but for me, there is not enough going on in EP to stretch the drama out without it becoming soap-operatic.

To make sense in my own head, however, I divided the story into three acts. The first act encompasses Charlotte's interviews with the three members and ends with the reunion of Her Highness. The second act marks Rory's first narrative entrance into the story, beginning with HH's victory at Battle of the Bands and ending with the trigger for the third act: Rhys dumping Rory. Meanwhile, in Charlotte's arc, the second act culminates with Charlotte singing out loud during Her Highness' first performance since Rory's death. This scene is pivotal, for a number of reasons: (1) It directly mirrors the critical flashback scene where Charlotte, accompanying Ducky on the piano, performs flawlessly onstage for the first time in her life. Five years later, Charlotte unknowingly returns the favor by stepping in to sing when Rhys is unable to do so. (2) This is the first time Charlotte ever sings aloud in public. However, it's a tainted victory because she does so while masked---hence, she hasn't truly conquered her demons because she's still "playing" the role of Aurora Maciel. Which brings me to... (3) By this point, Charlotte is aware of her feelings towards Rhys but realizes she cannot compete with or ever replace Rory. Tying back to point 2, although she's successfully "become" Rory, Charlotte's growth is still incomplete until she learns how to derive the confidence from herself--essentially, to sing without the mask and expose her own face.

Whew. Okay, and then the third act is predominantly focused on Rory's downward spiral, while Charlotte comes to terms with all of her past failures with her mother, Ducky, and whatnot. Is it possible to fit all of these things into one novel? That was the goal.

Anyways. So yesterday, I finished Chapter 9 (Patrick's interview) and started writing Chapter 10 (Rhys's interview), which means I'm almost done with Act I. However, I decided randomly to enter the word counts of the chapters so far into an Excel sheet and counted the totals. Well, I flipped out when I realized that with the word-count rate I'm going at, the grand total will very likely exceed 100k. Which isn't exactly unheard of in YA, but it's exceedingly rare in YA Contemporary, which usually clocks in at around 60k. And I mean, it's expected in revisions that you'd cut out everything unnecessary and keep only what's necessary. But the very thought of having to go through and slice and slice and slice and slice like Prince Philip hacking through the hedges to get to Sleeping Beauty's castle makes me want to weep.

Okay, which is admittedly jumping the gun a bit here, because I still have two-thirds left to write.

Bah. Just keep slogging, just keep slogging, just keep slogging slogging slogging....

Cold Showers & Communism

For the last three days, my shower water has been cold. I've noticed over the past few months that this tends to happen whenever a winter storm arrives. My roommate, who showers in the evenings, hasn't faced this same predicament, but since I stubbornly must adhere to the same morning routine, I remain insistent on showering right after waking up and before going to work, even if it's in cold water.

To tell you the truth, I was quite grumpy Monday morning. There are few things I derive greater pleasure from than hot showers. It's bad enough waking up on a Monday morning; it's worse to be greeted with a blast of cold water. Tuesday morning, I was in a vile mood and, after getting out of the shower, promptly Googled on my phone to see whether or not cold weather was responsible for my misery. As it turns out, I found multiple articles exalting the health benefits of taking cold showers. Not only does this habit purportedly strengthen your immune system, improve your circulation, relieve depression symptoms, and improve skin quality--but psychologically, if you subject yourself to minor stress each day, then over time, you become better at handling stress. I don't know about the physical health benefits (though I might be able to vouch for the depression one--I've realized I feel pretty darn good after a cold shower), but I was drawn to the psychological benefit. It's kind of the same principle why I started making my bed every morning--it's a small victory that starts you off each day feeling as if you've accomplished something.

Plus, I don't really have a choice about my water temperature right now, so I might as well focus on the benefits, right? So yeah, a lot less grumbling this morning. And honestly, after a while you get used to the cold.

I wish I could be so optimistic about my work-life though. Since December, I've had frequent bouts of extreme irritation at my job. Around mid-January, my frustrations came to a head and I wrote an e-mail rant to my mother (who was in Taiwan at the time) about how I now understood why communism was doomed to fail. A few co-workers and I frequently work on the same projects together and share a worklist that we usually divvy up.The problem? As someone whose personality is geared towards maximum efficiency, when I'm on the top of my game, my productivity is at least twice the average level of everyone else. (How do I know? I'm neurotic enough to keep track of how many patient records I complete each day, so I have a pretty good sense of my daily average and overall record. I can also get a vague sense of how much my co-workers have completed in that same span of time, due to regular updates we have about our project status.) I'm competitive with myself and I hate wasting time, so when I'm motivated, I will get tons of shit done.

But then, what happens when I finished my assigned set? I'm immediately assigned to help someone else finish their assigned set. Which I don't really have a problem with on principle (team effort and all), but it becomes very demotivating when it grows clear that I'm doing the equivalent work of two, maybe even three other people--for no personal benefit. (Especially when I hear that one of my co-workers may be watching Netflix while working. Not that I'm not reading blogs or anything while working...ahem. But I still get more shit done, period.) And this is where I realize that I'm slightly narcissistic and need to be praised. I don't even really care that I'm paid the same as everyone else. I just kinda want someone to notice.

So my mom wrote an e-mail response back, and in all her worldly wisdom, sent me some Chinese proverb about how you can't move the mountain but the trail can curve its path. Basically, she said, you can't do anything about it, so either change your mindset and focus on the positives you're getting from working so hard (in reality.... not much), or slow the eff down and daydream a bit more like Netflix Guy. Okay fine, so I listened to that second piece of advice. I slowed down. I started writing long e-mails to YY and Rogue during work hours. On occasion, I'd pull up my EP drafts and do some freewrites while waiting for the database to load. I cut my pace down to about half, and overall I was feeling more content and appeased.

Until approximately two days ago. Allow me to explain. About two weeks ago, one of my co-workers was assigned to help me finish one of my worklists, as she'd just finished her first set. (For context, this was my third set.) I'd been working backwards from 810, so by the time my co-worker was assigned to help, I had already gotten down to the mid-740s. I told my co-worker to start at 700 and work up until we met. I knew this co-worker works fairly slowly, so I guessed that we'd probably meet up in the 710s range after maybe a week.

On Monday, my co-worker left work before me, and I stayed a bit after to finish up the patient I was working on. I was on 705. I repeat, 705. I'd completed about 40 patients in about two weeks, and I was baffled as to why I still hadn't run into my co-worker yet. After I finished 705, I scrolled through 704, 703, 702, 701, and 700. That's when I realized that in the span of two weeks, my co-worker had gone through only five patients. That's approximately one-eighth of my work, even after I purposely slowed down. Not only that, some of these patients were incomplete--as in, certain fields were missing in various tabs, clearly indicating that the job was not done thoroughly. I could have understood if someone was really slow and doing a very thorough job, but at the revelation that this person was not only really slow but also doing a haphazard job, I went completely bonkers.

The angelic Sophelia on my shoulder tried to reintroduce all that positive-thinking by reminding myself that this co-worker had been absent for a couple of days in the last few weeks. But then the demonic Sophelia on the other shoulder butt in and shouted down this pep talk with: "THAT'S NO EXCUSE. THAT'S LIKE THREE DAYS MAXIMUM. HOW DO YOU FINISH ONLY FIVE PATIENTS IN TWO WEEKS?"

Anyways, I was livid. Bless my roommate, I went home and ranted to her for about twenty minutes. The thing is though, I've decided to just suck it up. If I were in my supervisor's shoes, I don't even know how I would handle this issue. At the end of the day, we are a team--so if we're looking at what's in the best interests of the group, it makes sense for the most productive team member to carry more weight. I can't argue with that. I'm just aggravated by the fact that my co-worker works at a snail's pace and I can't even pinpoint why (i.e. this person isn't visibly slacking off by, say, watching Netflix. Even Netflix Guy works faster than this.).

But all in all, if this is the most stressful thing about my job, I'll admit that I've got it good. I shouldn't be complaining. Just think of it as a cold shower.

Invective

The worst I could do to you isn't to write a scathing entry detailing all the reasons why the very thought of you makes me ill. No, the worst I could do is to never spare a single word for you. To show you that for however much you may have wished otherwise, you meant nothing to me at all.