Me: … It was a hiccup.

Person:…

Me: …

Me: … Yeah.

Things Derek Morgan excels at:

1. Kicking down doors

2. Flirting with Garcia

3. Pretty much anything and everything, really.

Things I excel at:

1.Sending people “Titantic” when they leave their netflix queue open on public computers.

2. Getting lost.

3.  Perfecting the timing of “your mom” jokes.

I swear Andrea and I are the world’s boringest people.

At Van’s, we did even more homework/studying and we watched a History Channel documentary on Atlantis, Penelope, and two episodes of Jackie Chan Adventures (which, by the way, is still amazing) ’cause we’re total nerds.

新年快樂 indeed. :D

I am going to be so sad when my Chinese relatives decide that I’m too old and do not deserve 紅包/red envelopes. This is the only time of the year when I appreciate being treated like I’m fourteen and not an adult. (The other day Chinese professor asked a somewhat rhetorical questions; if we were patted on the head by adults as children. While other people said yes, I may or may not have muttered “… I still get that”. Which is sadly true.  I think it comes with being short.)

2.  I’m getting nostalgic about music I listened to in high school. Meaning, all the Japanese rock I’m currently missing. I used to have Orange Range’s discography but now I only have a few songs. “City Boy” will never stop being funny to me due to their mispronunciation of the word “city”. Use your imagination– you’ll get it in a second. I’m also missing Luna Sea, Malize Mazer, hyde, and Gackt.

3.  I plan on hitting the gym tomorrow. I love Bryn Mawr’s Black History Month dinner because it’s delicious (nom nom nom sweet potato pie!) but soul food, on the whole, tend to be insanely unhealthy.

They actually had balls of butter. Actual balls.

I was fascinated, yet horrified. I know one day of this won’t kill me, but between the fried catfish, the onion rings from Wednesday night, and my PE class being canceled… yup, hauling my ass back to the gym.

As I’ve told Andrea, I don’t think I’m built like my mom– she’s pixie-like and tiny (5′0) and while I’m also petite,  I’ve always been curvy¹.  My dad’s compact and sturdy, so I think I’ve inherited his body type. *sad face*  But that doesn’t mean that I can’t exercise and try to decrease my risk for heart disease, diabetes, etc.

4. I know I’ve complained about Seasonal Affective Disorder just in my last post, but I’m so sick of winter. I only just realized I had unconsciously turned on every light in my room when I came back from my meeting. Winter makes me so miserable; it’s so devoid of life and sunlight. I think I’ll get buy some vitamin D tablets and see if they help. I just want to stop feeling like I’m going to burst into tears at any given moment. Even songs on my “Life is my Runway” playlist can only do so much, you know?

(I totally, totally should have gone to school in California. I love Bryn Mawr, but this weather is driving me crazy.)

5. I harbor total non-ironic love for Digimon 02. I even like the English dub. I’m pretty sure my first online username was somehow related to Digimon– and somehow, I think I should be ashamed of all of this but I’m not. Whatevs, I’m a 90s child through and through.

6. Isn’t it weird how some things can still affect you, years down the road? I still can’t listen to The Whos or The Eagles because the were his favorites.

7. I miss my mom’s 濑粉/lai fun.

1. it was always a problem when I did gymnastics, none of the coaches said so out loud. I was eleven, I could do back handspring and a front tuck like no one’s business but I was more developed than the fifteen year olds I practiced with.

That was what was being shrieked in the hallways of my dorm (Merion’s reputably “the quiet dorm”, pfft– dorm stereotypes can sometimes be very off) after dinner. I had just finished making hot chocolate and was planning on turning in early because I’m really a senior citizen at heart.

Also, the Snowpocalypse meant no sun. No sunlight+ Stacy is just a bad situation all around. I’m kind of like the aloe vera plant that some girl left in my dorm room over winter break (and never claimed it back, Jesus Christ, the poor thing is positively wilting from lack of proper care)– I need sunlight or I’ll keel over. Lack of sunlight makes me sluggish, moody, and depressed– full blown Seasonal Affective Disorder, at your service.

Anyway,  Andrea accidentally ruined my high score for Word Challenge (ridiculously addictive game on Facebook).

We opted to watch Mr. & Mrs. Smith and got ourselves onion rings from UnCommon Grounds. She ruined my all-time high score, I ruined her appetite by discussing various zombie apocalypse escape routes on campus and mentioned off-handedly of how cinemaesque Carpenter Library would be: terrible location for defense but sunlight filtering through the skylights and windows would provide a great contrast to the chaos that would descend upon the hapless students struggling with the undead in the book stacks.

Essentially, I need to watch Zombieland soon to get this zombie-mania out of my system.

Hearing all these good reviews from my friends isn’t helping. Most girls like vampires or werewolves (Team Edward or Team Jacob– insert obligatory comment about how terrible the Twilight franchise is here) but I like zombies. Obviously, not in a sexual manner because that would be ten million degrees of wrong and disgusting (would it be considered necrophilia? ugh ugh ugh do not want to even contemplate semantics!) but I’m kinda fascinated by the zombie apocalyptic genre itself and zombies are interesting since they’re more or less a walking disease. (I got the last bit from the Zombiemania documentary I watched over winter break.) Paranormal and supernatural things like these intrigue me– I know way too much about useless things like these.

Anyway, now my room smells like onion rings and I’ve decided that onion rings= the unsexiest scent in the world.(I need to break out my Unconditional Love perfume.)  I’m pretty sure my hair reeks of onion rings as well.

Mr. & Mrs. Smith is a pretty awesome snow day movie. It was meant to be a summer action flick– complete with explosions and sexual tension with Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie looking attractive and sweaty in between gunfights, car chase scenes, and the occasional amusing banter. So of course, it’s not going to be a masterpiece– but it was really fun to watch. The chemistry between Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie was fantastic and I’m a fan of mindless action flicks.

I now resemble a very grumpy Troll doll.

It’s not even artfully disheveled bedhead, it’s “I am an idiot who takes showers at 2 AM and I don’t own a hairdryer” bedhead.

So comfy, in fact, that I accidentally nodded off in it for a good hour or so. With blue highlighter in hand.

Good job, self.

My thigh muscles are currently saying hi and berating me for being pants at getting myself to the gym. Looking ridiculous while running after the Blue Bus, doing handstands and other gymnastic tricks,  and using free weights in my room=/= legit working out.

2. I’ve realized this: I’m learning mainly for my parents because I feel guilty that both of them have to struggle in order to communicate with my sisters and I. I’m learning Cantonese for myself.

3. The Smiths’ “Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want” has been in the back of my head for three weeks now, but I’m still not sure what I really want. I wish the universe would just give me a sign– anything. (And if it’s in the form of an adorable puppy named Pooka who will follow me everywhere– well, all the better.)

4. So, you know how surveys often ask you ridiculous questions about what you look for in boyfriend/girlfriend? Well, similar to that…. while talking to one of my friends– I decided that I’m learning from my past mistakes. One of my self-imposed rules:  do not date a slacker AKA the “smart but does not apply himself” type.

This is partly because I’m one myself. :|

Seriously, provided that we end up getting married and have kids– we’d end up with some lazy-ass child prodigy that’ll probably grow up to be a schizophrenic or an evil genius. Now, being an evil genius is pretty cool, but they always get foiled by the hero character, and then my kid will end up as one of those brains-in-a-jar or I’ll end up having to support him in my old age when it should be the other way around. (Yeah, I take filial piety pretty seriously. Don’t act like you’re surprised.)

I mean, I’m pretty lenient when it comes to these things– but my ex was definitely a “never do homework, skip class all the time, hits the road when the going gets tough” kind of guy– a definite slacker with no real motivation. He was really smart but once he encountered something he didn’t understand, instead of working hard to understand it, he would just give up.

5.  That said– I’m a sucker for a great sense of humor, nice eyes, and a great smile. :) Andrea and I both have a certain “type” that we’ve dubbed “The Sam” because quite a few guys (and fictional characters) with the name Sam fit that mold. (Think Sam Seaborn from The West Wing.)

Anything Naruto related makes me crave ramen. ‘Tis a sad fact.

I attempted to paint my nails a glittery black-blue an hour ago. That falls under the category of “poor life decisions” because there is glitter everywhere.

Glitter is the herpes of the arts and craft world.

Whatever happened to my youth?

I know that my body is sensitive because I have allergies and I’m asthmatic.

And now, I’m beginning to think that I’m food sensitive because I get sick from eating Bryn Mawr food more often than anyone I know.

I had half of a chicken wrap and some carrot sticks with hummus for lunch today! … I just don’t know what may have triggered this but now I feel lousy and would like to sleep this off.

I think I’m resigning myself to rice congee and salads for the rest of my life.

Hell yes.

I don’t have high expectations at all.

And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.

I like too many things, over-analyze things that do not need to be over-analyze, but I’m also a really chill person.

However, I do know that when I get obsessed with something (not in a creepy stalker way but in a “[insert tv show/subject/movie/book/song] is really awesome and now I must KNOW EVERYTHING”), I can be slightly unreasonable. And that’s when my concept of logic is flexible to say the least.

Take, for example,  how I’ve decided that I want a Snuggie. I’ve been wanting one for a month now but because I’m still slightly ashamed that I actually want a Snuggie (hey, don’t judge me! I like being warm) but now that I’m stuck on the notion that me+ a warm Snuggie= forever and always bliss, this line of logic permeates everything.

I was going down for breakfast this morning and freezing my ass off. My parents are under the impression that we have all our bodies already have a  sufficient built-in warming system (DAD: It’s called shivering).

Instead of being a reasonable person and digging through my storage boxes (I no longer own a dresser or a closet because I no longer have an actual bedroom– I have a pseudo-bedroom that was once the family room, why my parents thought that we needed a family room when we already had a living room, who knows. In fact, I don’t even have a door and I’m still slightly bitter about this) to find a robe, I decided that I wouldn’t have this problem if I had a Snuggie.

Because obviously, Snuggies are the solution to everything.

World Peace?

Give everyone a Snuggie.

Conflict in the Middle East? Give the both the Israelis and the Palestinians Snuggies.

Want to pretend you’re a Hogwarts student?

Buy a black Snuggie.

And this is why I will never win and speech and debate competitions.