Cracked

17 days.  I actually bet against myself that I would go totally nuts at Day 14 or even Day 10.  I gained 3 days.  It's been such a nightmare living at home.  This loss of control over how I go about my day is stressing me out.  I'm trying my best to find a job or even a volunteering position to keep me sane and even that isn't working out.  I can't spend my days running "errands" all day long when it's really just me driving around trying to get 10 seconds to breathe before I have to go home.

"You're not going to get outta here until you're married."

Believe me, I want to move out as soon as possible.  Everything is shared here, I get it.  My independence was castrated when our SUV pulled into our driveway.  Going back to So Cal is just going to be a visit, I can't stay there anymore.  I can't be productive here because there's always going to be this lingering feeling that I'm still obligated to abide by that invisible leash.  I shouldn't stray more than 10 miles from home unless I'm with someone, I can't sit out at the coffee shop for hours into the night because I'll be asking for trouble, I'll be banished from the family if God forbid, I find a place of my own before I'm married.

"You're being ungrateful, after all we did for you, now you're just acting spoiled."

Do you ever wonder when your parents are going to use their financial support against you as a form of black mail?  It happened today.  That guilt card.  It's a stupid piece of furniture that I wanted to use.  That gigantic piece of scraped metal that IKEA calls a loft bed, was driven over 300 miles back here for me to use, not for storage.  We agreed on that multiple times.  All I asked was for my own corner, literally!  A corner of the room to myself, without having to share a spot with anyone.  Not that I'm being highly territorial-- I just want my things to belong somewhere and not be mixed up in house that constantly looks like a garage sale.

I get the lecture that I'm asking for too much, that it's my fault for not thinking where my old bed was going, etc.  How did it suddenly become my fault?  There's no use in arguing over what we should have done.  The problem now is that I'm at home and we have to figure out where I fit in.

(Not) Unpacked

I am disgusted with my house already.

Graduation!

Before I forget, I'm bullet pointing all of this.

• Woke up early to make breakfast with sisters, waited for parents and Lewis to come over
• Finished decorating cap and gown, thank to Vick!
• Cap officially said, "Cam on, Bo Me" (Thanks, Mom & Dad!)
• Lewis got me carrot cupcakes and flowers :)
• Mom was armed with two cameras ready to go
• Walked in painful heels all day
• Met up with fellow 145 interns to line up together
• Valerie has some serious hookups-- we ended up at the very front of the line
• Couldn't find family and boyfriend in crowd, lots of standing on the chair to pop my head up
• Got to take a lot of pictures of everything
• Managed to take an extra group photo at the end
• 5 of us were the very last to be called up so I waited for Aness, Angela, Nas, and Valerie to finish
• We all held hands and raised them up high, lots of cheers from the crowd
• Deliriously happy to be done, it was a super fun graduation to participate in
• Went to In-N-Out with Lewis and sisters for milkshakes and animal fries
• Chilled at the apt and fell asleep
• Got ready to go eat some more
• Went to Anh Hong for dinner for a 7 course beef meal (holy crap on a cracker)
• Super full and went home to zombie out

Too much to blog about, I have tons of photos up though!

"Aja aja fighting!"

To the academic counselors that have "guided" me through my undergraduate career, I like to wish you all the best in your future endeavors. 

I have never met a genuinely caring counselor at school before.  Every time I come in, there's a slight frown and this attitude of pessimism waiting to greet me at the office.  The first time I went to meet with the Humanities Undergraduate counselor, she said that I'm never going to go far in psychology (or transfer) if I decide to change majors because of my grades.  Months later, my request was approved and my love for education flourished.  Another example of poor social academic support, a counselor from Social Sciences promptly told me that I probably won't do well in the graduate course that my professor recommended me to take.

Is there something wrong with this picture here?  As academic counselors, shouldn't they give you a glimmer of hope that they'll be able to succeed if they apply themselves 110% and keep motivated?  I do have to thank them for their lack of enthusiasm, because without it, I wouldn't have pushed myself so hard to finish my senior year with a bang.  Hopefully this worked out the same way for a lot of other students.

Like I told my friend yesterday.  No matter what job I end in, if I'm going to end up as someone's mentor or influence the minds of many people, I have to put in my best.  Other people are dependent on you and they need you to do a good job.  And if I do end up as a counselor or therapist anywhere, I'm going to make sure I won't ruin someone's self-esteem while trying to help them. 

7 mo' days

The last week is usually the bittersweet one, at least that's what I assumed.  I've made this place a home for 4 years and now I'm going back to the one that has been mine for 21 years.  Something tells me I'll be baking a lot.  I tend to bake when I'm stressed.  Even if the product is supposed to be made with love, it'll be with aggressive love.  I shouldn't be surprised because I knew it had to end sometime.  I just hate not knowing what's supposed to happen next.  Having a plan isn't going to soothe my insecurities.  I want a guarantee.