Why am I so distrac-- DID YOU GET A HAIRCUT?!

DISCLAIMER: The following post is extremely personal. The only reason I am posting this is to hopefully use this as a way of conquering my fears and obstacles. You may already know these things about me – if you do, you should be proud that I’m willing to finally try to come to terms with it by means other than keeping everything to myself. Lately, I’ve been starting to try to pray about things more and talk about things more to a certain extent. It’s been weird and hard for me, but I have to do this. Ultimately, I am doing this for myself.

There are numerous things in this world that I can’t describe.

For example, I can’t describe the way that my best friend can make me completely melt. She has the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen in my life and staring at them can make my heart stop, I swear. I feel like God place her directly in my life, and I am thankful for her every day. Without a word, she can make me feel as if I’m somewhere else. She makes me want to be the best that I could possibly be and more. I hope you know who you are. If you don’t, then I’m a terrible friend.

There are just some things that I can’t explain.

No matter how many times I delete these sentences or reword them, I can’t relay what’s inside my mind.

I wish that I could just pop both you and me into my mind and give you a personal tour.

Ever since I was a little kid, I LOVED being outside. The only strictly “indoor” activity that I could concentrate on was solving puzzles. Any kind. Like jigsaw puzzles and junk. I started doing puzzles at a really early age, and I could easily finish a 1,000 piece puzzle by the time I was 9 or 10. Most of the time, however, I would much, much rather be outside running around than locked away inside somewhere reading a book.

When I read, unless it’s my “type” of book, I can’t concentrate. At all. I can read the same page fifty bazillion times and still have no idea what the main character’s name is. When I take notes, I normally have to be playing with something. My hands will always be folding origami or twirling a pen or playing with my rings. I hardly ever actually take notes. I can normally just listen to a lecture and absorb information by asking questions and making eye contact with my teachers.

Yes, I just rambled about something that was somewhat random. I actually do this a lot when I try to write blog posts. Truthfully, I delete about half of the paragraphs/words in my posts because they don’t pertain to the topic at hand. I don’t know why I let myself write them to begin with. I just kind of get carried away I guess. You can ask my closest friends. I’ll talk in circles all day if you let me. I’ll analyze everything and try to find a logical explanation for everything.

I literally just got up and walked out of my room… only to wonder what I was doing. I’m not sure what just happened. Trust me, my attention span is actually way smaller than you think. I’m such a kid at heart; it’s not even funny.

Okay. Focus, Becky. Come on, Bee. Focus. Whew. Anyways:

When I take tests… I pretty much die inside. My mind blanks completely. I start to get really nervous. My eyes have trouble focusing. My heart rate shoots up. I feel like I’m going to explode inside. I can’t sit still. I fidget and tap my pencil and shake my leg and drive myself insane. I sometimes start to sweat or breathe weird. It’s actually extremely embarrassing. I feel like I’m going to cry or run around or scream. Even just thinking about it now, I’m starting to feel anxious. I apologize if my sentences are run-ons or grammatically confusing. Anytime I take a test at school or work on something that requires concentration, I normally always have headphones in.

Why? Because music is my therapist.

This is the part that I can’t explain very well. For some reason, music has always been a calming factor in my life. Whether I’m playing it or listening to it, my mind calms down. I can literally spend hours just playing music by myself. Even if it’s just repetitively playing a passage from a difficult concerto on my violin to get it perfect, I’m patient. I can go for quite a long time without ever saying a word -- as long as I’m playing something. It’s as if music can stop time for me. Whenever I play music, I become myself. Not what anyone else says or thinks I should be. I’m ME. And just me. I create what I feel inside. All of the words and feelings that are trapped inside flow out. If you ever want to feel what’s inside my heart, just ask me to play something for you. It doesn’t matter on what instrument, you can feel me. I promise. This probably sounds strange, but it’s true. You can tell. According to other people, there’s a certain way that I act/look when I’m playing music. I would honestly die without music.

My mind is a contradicting paradox. I either notice everything … or I’m so busy/distracted that I can’t remember anything. Allow me to explain.

When I was a kid, I remember a specific event that happened at the church my dad used to pastor in Korea. Someone called my mother asking her to come to the children’s nursery right away. I, of course, followed.

When we got there, this lady was freaking out. She explained that there was a small needle that had gotten lost in the nursery. Most of the kids were barefoot, and she was starting to worry that someone would get hurt.

To this day, I honestly can’t tell you what else she said. I know that that sounds awful, and I would never do something like this if it were to happen in the present. As she started to explain what had happened, I tuned her out. Why? My eyes had already scanned the entire room -- and found the needle. I searched all the logical places it could be. It was lying about 10 feet away from where we were all standing. I remember pointing at it and loudly declaring, “MOM, I FOUND IT.” I’m pretty sure that I cut off the lady mid-sentence, but like I said, I have no idea what she was even saying.

From where we were standing, my mom and the lady couldn’t see it. They thought I was trying to be dumb. So, I walked over and picked it up. “SEE, I TOLD YOU, MOM. 서희 DO GOOD. …may I get some ice cream now?”

I could probably tell you things about yourself that you’ve never noticed. I remember things that happen or stuff that people tell me -- and for some reason, they’re shocked whenever I repeat it back to them a long time after they’ve forgotten that they told me to begin with. It’s both a blessing and a curse. I remember details that others don’t even notice. Even if it’s something I just happen to glance at, I can tell you everything that was there. I construct a picture in my mind. Even when I’m trying to sort things out logically, I can close my eyes and build it in my head. I can scatter my notes around the room and walk around from sheet to sheet. I’ll not only learn what was on the pages, but I will usually memorize where exactly each sentence was located. Don’t get me wrong though. I know for a fact that I’m not perfect. And my mind is definitely FAR from perfect.

ON THE OTHER HAND, there are times where I feel like I’m about to explode. My mind is restless. I can’t seem to focus on anything. If you feel like I’m having a hard time focusing, the best way to snap me out of it is by grabbing my face and forcing me to make eye contact with you. Because if I truly am zoned out… I won’t notice the things around me. I’m like a little kid, I’m telling you. Especially when it comes to sleeping at night. There is just so much on my mind. I can’t sleep at night anymore. Even if I “head to bed” at like 9:00, I won’t actually be asleep til about 2:00. Every night. I’m seriously not exaggerating.

BUT, the explanation for all of that is another post for another day. I’ve already rambled on too much. So yes, this post was pointless. I’ll post a more “thought-provoking” piece soon. I just did this because I had too much on my mind, and I figured I might as well talk about something useless.

Oh look! A cow!

-Becky

Please don't read this.

Seriously, you will lose respect for me if you read this. Don't ask me why I posted this. I have no idea.

Why are you still reading this?! Fine, you know what, go ahead. Read this. No, wait, I take that back...

Anyways:

College.

God, I would love to go simply one hour without hearing that word.

That’s all I seem to hear nowadays. College. Future. Plan. Acceptance.

I’ve literally spent over 8 hours sitting in the same room. I’m supposed to be studying, filling out applications, and writing essays. What have I been doing instead? … absolutely nothing.

I’ve left the room exactly three times. Twice to go to the bathroom, which is actually in the connected office next door, and once to walk around outside and to go get some food, even though I wasn’t hungry. I just wanted an excuse to not think about anything else.

I tried to clear my head by listening to music, which I am STILL DOING. 8 hours later.

I tried to draw to get some motivation. I literally silently sat and stared at a blank piece of paper for over two hours. THIS IS WHAT MY LIFE HAS COME TO.

I paced around the same spot like I usually do when I’m deep in thought trying to absorb information. Nothing. I laid on the ground and stared at the ceiling. Still nothing.

I have SO MUCH that I need to be doing… that it makes me want to do absolutely nothing. Does that even makes sense? You know what, at this point, I don’t even care whether I make any sense or not. I just want to eat lots of ice cream, watch a bazillion chick flicks, and cry. Just… cry.

To clarify, I’ve been at my dad’s office all day. I didn’t even venture into the hallways. Why? Because then everyone and their mom would ask what my plans for my life were. I’ve known most of these pastors and professors since I was born. They’ve watched me grow up, and now THEY ALL KNOW THAT I’M A SENIOR.

Am I honestly supposed to have my whole life figured out – even though I’m only sixteen? It seems like a bit much.

STOP READING THIS.

So to those who are curious:

No, I don’t know where I’m going to college yet.

No, I don’t know what I want to freaking major in. (And if I don’t know what to major in, what in the world would make you think that I know what I want my career to be?)

No, I haven’t even applied anywhere.

No, I’m probably not even going to college.

Yes, I am aware that I am Asian and will shortly be disowned.

Yes, I am also aware that I have consumed way too much caffeine today.

Yes, that is chocolate on my face. DON’T JUDGE ME.

Yes, I have accepted the fact that I probably won’t be able to reach my dreams.

No, I have not been studying like I should have been.

No, you may not wipe the chocolate off my face.

Yes, I still refuse to stay in Cleveland.

Yes, I am a big girl and will be fine without your stupid Kleenex to wipe my pathetic tears with.

SO... WHY ARE YOU STILL READING?!

The fact is, I’m graduating. Whether I like it or not, the future is coming. But you know what? Yeah, I wasted today. I completely wasted it. But tomorrow is right around the corner. And I’m not going to waste it. Today allowed me to sort through a lot of things. And no matter how hard things get, I can’t give up. I can’t just quit. I have too many people who expect things out of me. I expect even more out of myself. So, I’m going to give until there’s nothing left to give.

Normally, I’m afraid to admit that I’m trying. Why? Because then you would know whether or not I failed. If no one knows that I’m trying, then no one will know if I fall on my face. Yes, it’s a stupid way of thinking. BUT, it’s MY way of thinking. Disappointment is the worst end result possible. But NO. I’m facing my fears of falling. So yeah, I’m going to openly try from now on. Maybe it’s too late to get the results that I want, but I’m still going to push forward.

So, I hope you’ll watch me. And if you see me trip and collapse, I hope you’ll help me get back up. I hope you’ll keep pushing me until I can stand up by myself again. I never ask for help because I don’t want to be a burden to others, but I am now asking for your help. I need help. I simply cannot do this on your own.

And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my senior year, it’s that I need God. I cannot do anything without him.

I’m always like, “Okay, God. I really need you. Yeah, I totally cannot do this without you.” BUT, then I turn around and try to have full control of the situation. I try to get the outcome to match my selfish wants, not what He has planned for me. And God has patiently showed me time and time again that I never trust Him. I never have 100% faith in Him. My words contradict my action over and over again.

So, as you can clearly see, I have a lot of things to work on. Why am I blogging about all of this? Because if I keep it inside, I’ll explode. So... I'm... going to shut up and go work on my essays now.

I can't believe that you read this. Even after I said not to! Don't deny it. You're still reading. Go do something productive. And NO, making fun of me is not considered productive.

PUSH me. I DARE you.

NOTE: Remember, I draw these pictures with my THUMB. So don't judge me.

My older sister and I have ALWAYS been inseparable.

Don't laugh. It's true.

We either did everything together like twins.....

or we were passionately beating the living Asian out of each other --

and it took all of my mother's strength to pull us apart.

My sister has always pushed me "to do better".

Both figuratively and literally.

For example, she would PUSH me to confront my fear of heights...

by PUSHING me out of a tree.

I'm still not sure how that was supposed to help me.

And FYI, if a little girl is terrified of clowns, the WORST thing you can do is push her into a clown.

To everyone else, a clown looks like this:

To ME, a clown looks like this:

See the difference? Yeah.

In life, some people need to be PUSHED. They need that extra "motivation" before they actually act upon a thought.

Obviously, there is a ginormous difference between self-determination and motivation from an outside source.

SO, if you're the type of person who needs to be told to take action, then consider this blog post to be your PUSH. This blog post is also for myself. There are a lot of things on my mind that I need to figure out... and I hope that this will be the beginning of the end of my problems.

I know that I still have my whole life ahead of me... but this is how it starts. What I do today affects how tomorrow starts and where it goes. The present can mend the past and set up the future.

Don't waste today thinking about what you'll do tomorrow.

Tomorrow will always eventually become today.

Everyone has SOMETHING that they need to realize.

They're a difference between knowing what your dream should be and actually pursuing your dream. Just because someone has a call doesn't mean that he/she will answer it.

If you want something, GO GET IT. Don't just watch it with a heavy heart. The worst thing that you can say is nothing at all. Does that even make sense? Oh well. It doesn't matter. Life itself doesn't always make sense, but that doesn't mean that it stops or that time slows down.

And if something is simply out of your reach, then maybe it wasn't meant for you in the first place. I personally believe that God has an amazing plan for each and every person. I often wrestle with the thought of being a part of a bigger picture. I feel so blind and lost at times. I beg for light and guidance. I feel so alone and torn.

But I know that God is always here. God never said that our journeys would be easy. In face, he said quite the opposite.

Sometimes... you just love and treasure something or someone so much that you're willing to do everything to make sure that it or he/she is happy. Even if it means that you sacrifice a part of yourself. You give yourself away for the sake of something or someone else.

"If you love something, set it free. If it loves you too, it'll come back."

I both agree and disagree with this statement:

I agree in the sense that if you truly loved someone, you wouldn't try to control him/her or force him/her to act/feel a certain way.

I disagree, because if you love something with all of your heart... the LAST thing you want to do is let it go.

I agree that letting go can be a test of true feelings.

I disagree, because the perfect moment may not happen again.

Do you see this? I can't even agree with myself. That's how hard it is to define statements like this. Everyone is entitled to his/her own opinion.

I can encourage you to do or choose certain things, but I can't actually choose anything for you.

The moment you decide to act in the present -- the moment you decide what to do by yourself, you have succeeded. What happens after that may vary, the the initial leap of action is the same. YOU decided. YOU chose, not anyone else. When you become free, you start to live.

One of my favorite speakers of all time said this to me (along with 500 + other girls):

"There is a saying out there that says, 'There is no time like the present.' If I could, I would change that statement to, 'There is no time but the present.' This is how we must live." - Amy Piper

I hope that you will hold this statement close to your heart like I do. I more than likely interpret this quote differently than you do. HOWEVER, it can still serve a purpose. It can still inspire you. It can mold itself to fit within your life.

I know that I'm just a teenage girl, but I'm always here for you -- no matter who you are.

This One's for the Girls...

DISCLAIMER: This is NOT a funny story. I’m sorry if you’re disappointed. I’ll be sure to post an amusing story (with pictures, of course) later. Soon.

SECOND DISCLAIMER: As previously mentioned, this post is specifically for the ladies.

Love.

Yes, it’s a word. It’s also a feeling. A killer. A life-saver. All you think about… and the LAST thing you want to think about.

Lately, it’s also been a phrase that’s been getting thrown around more and more.

So, I think I should put my thoughts about it on the internet. Because that’s totally the most subtle thing to do. Right? Right. (Wrong.)

Regardless, I’m going to address it. To a certain extent.

Just a few minutes ago, I was chatting with one of my friends on Skype. We went from talking about Hugh Jackman… to discussing the “L word”. In less than a minute. (Which is weird I know, but to be fair, she brought it up.)

She simply asked, “Oh Becky Becky! Have you ever been in love?”

I let my fingers hover over the keys for a few moments before I replied.

My answer? “Honestly?... I don’t know.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been in love. I think there are different types of infatuation and love, but I don’t think I’ve ever IN LOVE. I personally believe that true love is something that you never fall out of. Now don’t get me wrong, just because you’re in “true love” doesn’t mean that everything will work out.

Love is a privilege that you have to work at. Any single thing out there that is worth effort should take all of your energy. The more you work at it, the better it’ll seem.

I think that “love” is one of those thing that if you have to ask yourself whether you’re in it or not… you definitely aren’t. It’s one of those thing that if you’re in it… you’ll know. You know?

Girls, I know that our hearts are fragile. Even if you pretend like it isn’t.

At the same time, our hearts can take a lot more than you can imagine.

For starters, girls have the ability to watch an endless amount of chick flicks. Guys are tough, right? Sure. So, if the majority of guys out there can barely make it through a single chick flick, but we can watch as many as possible – does that make us manlier than them? …

Switching gears:

If a boy doesn’t call you back… you won’t die. Sure, the amount of ice cream in your fridge might decrease significantly – but you won’t die. I promise. (Unless you eat WAY too much ice cream. Don’t do that.)

Also, if you are single – it’s not the end of the world. Yeah, being single suck. A LOT. But the truth is, so far, all of us have spent the majority of our lives being single. You did not pop out of your mother’s womb seeking a boyfriend. NO, you popped out crying for air. And food. And other things that are ESSENTIAL for living.

If a boy breaks your heart, I have duct tape to fix it… along with two perfectly good fists to deck him in the face.

I know it’s not my place to say whether or not you have been in love. Love is a different experience for everyone.

But LOVE should be an intimate, mutual gift that is shared between two people. “Love” that is being driven only one way is not LOVE. It’s called an obsession. And will normally lead to unhealthy stalking and/or a lot of trips to the closest Redbox.

In MY opinion, love is not defined by how much something makes you smile. Or how often you think about something.

EXAMPLE:

Cake makes me smile.

My mother makes me smile.

If you’re reading this, YOU more than likely make me smile.

AND,

I think about cake a lot (because I’m a fat kid. Don’t judge me.)

I also think about my mom a lot.

And I think about YOU a lot.

BUT I’m not “in love” with any of those things. That would be wrong and gross. There are simply different levels of love and infatuation. And I think that people often mistake infatuation with true love. True love is the deepest concept that exists.

Love is not a selfish thing that only one person should get to experience. It should be something that two people build together.

So if you’re sitting here reading this and trying to figure out whether you’ve ever been in love – I don’t think you have. (I apologize if that’s out of line, but I’m not deleting it.)

True love exists when no matter what the consequences are or what other people might think, you can’t let someone go.

DON’T GET ME WRONG, I’m not talking about if a girl really, really “loves” a guy but he “just doesn’t get it” or “doesn’t realize how perfect you would be together” or “just doesn’t see it at the moment”.

That’s not love. That’s infatuation. (And can get a bit creepy.) Love should not be something that makes you have an unhealthy lifestyle. Being in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same way will slowly wear you down. Love should build you up. It shouldn’t make you hate yourself or things about yourself. It shouldn’t make you wish that you were different. It should make you embrace the things about you, especially the amazing things that someone else finds wonderful. It shouldn’t make you change yourself to fit into a mold. You and your special person should create a mold together that fits everything that you two need it to hold.

And sure, things can change. Sure, this guy that consumes your mind might one day feel the same way. But until that mutual feeling is reached together, it’s not LOVE. So quit abusing the word.

I’m wrong? Fine. Go with me for a second:

Let’s say that even if he doesn’t feel the same way, you still think you’re “in love” with him and can’t possible “love” him any more than you do at that moment. BUT what would happen if he started to feel the same way about you? Then what, you fall into “double love”? No, that’s silly.

Love is not forced. It’s a choice. A commitment.

People often say that you do crazy things when you’re in love. You don’t do crazy things because you lose your sense of logic. You do crazy things when the person makes you feel emotions that you never even knew you could feel. You feel so much that you become invincible. That’s when consequences don’t seem to be so big. All those chick flick moments where they do crazy things, but it all works out? Those moments are following this concept.

Love is priceless.

When you’re in love, you can’t lose in the sense that you’re able to overcome any worldly loss.

In English, there is one word to describe this type of feeling: love.

So for me personally, I’m not going to claim that I’ve fallen in love with someone until I honestly think that I can’t feel anything more for a certain person – and that person feels the same way back.

I don’t even want to go back and count how many times I’ve typed the word “love” today. It’s ridiculous how many times a day that the poor word gets used.

This whole post is more than likely completely out of line. This is coming from a 16-year-old girl who claims that she’s never been in love. I don’t expect anyone to agree with me. In fact, I doubt that a single person out there agrees with me. This is simply my opinion. My thoughts. My feelings. My heart on the internet.

So ladies, keep smiling your beautiful smiles. And if you don’t find love, it’ll find you. If people out there can’t see how wonderful you are and appreciate you and love you, they don’t even deserve to know your first name.

Love love love,

Becky

The love of my life at the moment:

Hello, my name is: Name.

DISCLAIMER: Before you read this story, let me clarify a few things.

1. If you make fun of my drawings, I will kill you. Or cry. Or both, who knows.

2. Again, keep in mind that I'm drawing these with my finger. On my phone. That takes SKILL.

3. The following story is almost completely true. Not completely though. It's sad if you can't tell. You'll understand what I mean in a second.

SO, according to my wonderful mother (a.k.a. Confucius), I have always wanted a puppy.

For sixteen years, I have wanted a puppy.

I never took a break. Ever. Or gave up hope.

I FINALLY got one!

It took sixteen years. It's sad, I know.

So in honor of the newest addition to the Han family, I decided to post a blog. Because these things are definitely priceless, right?.....

Anyways, I am now going to tell the story of my whole, puppy-wanting life... with 8 pictures. (Yes, I went back through the post after I finished and counted before posting the correct number here.)

AHEM.

Once upon a time, 16 years ago-ish,

In a far away country called Communist North Korea,

A woman was pregnant.... NO, she was NOT my mother.

I was actually born in Atlanta, GA -- so that woman has nothing to do with this story.

Continuing on:

There was ALSO another woman pregnant in the United States of America. Weird coincidence, huh?

This woman was my mother.

Presenting picture 1!

This is my mother. We call her "Mommy."

So, apparently, since I've ALWAYS begged for a puppy, I even begged her while I was inside of her.

Everyone knows that Korean babies actually speak English inside the womb. This is a given fact. Simple knowledge.

I'm surprised that my mother never had a heart attack from hearing me talk inside of her.

If her complaints are correct, I also asked for a dog as soon as I entered this world. I didn't cry, gasp for air, or look horribly disfigured -- I just wanted a gosh darn puppy.

My request was obviously shot down.

BUT SIXTEEN YEARS LATER...

YYYAAAYYY PUPPY!!!!!!!!!!

I drew a picture of her. Just for you.

Doesn't it look so realistic? ... NO, IT IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE A CAT -- OKAY?!

....FINE. Here's a "real" picture of her.

Born on: May 7, 2011

She's 8 weeks old. AWWWW. And a shih tzu and chihuahua mix, so she will forever be tiny.

My older sister, Pris, and I decided to name her. We ignored our little sister, Phoebe's, requests...

Her name is Name. Yes, it was originally my idea. However, it was Pris's idea to pronounce it "Nah-Mi." Leave it to her to be creative. Humpf.

And so, I got two amazing things: a puppy and pun. A punny puppy. A pun-i-ppy.

Last night, I got literally 3 hours of sleep thanks to this little ball of cuteness. I ended up letting her curl up with me. She kept waking me up so I could play for about 10 seconds, but then she would fall asleep again.

I gave up trying to fall back asleep around 4 A.M.

Around 8 A.M., she decided she was hungry. By repeatedly trying to eat my nose.

After giving her food, she actually went and did her "business" on a training pad.

I was so proud, but I probably looked like this.

Cute, huh?

But to HER, an 8 week old puppy,

I probably looked something like this:

NOTE: May I just take a moment to say that NO I DO NOT EAT DOGS, EVEN IF I AM ASIAN. Just sayin'. Yeah, don't lie. The only reason you laughed at the picture was because of the last part.

But in the end, I'm still running on 3 hours of sleep, and she's all peachy. So Name, here's to you. ... Even though you can't read. And yet again, my blog post is pointless.

Life is EMPTY without SPOONS.

WARNING: This is yet ANOTHER absolutely pointless blog. Just so you know.

I consider myself to be a teenager. I'm a kid at heart, but I have the stubbornness of a typical 16 year old. This tends to make my life a LOT more complicated than it needs to be.

I proved that theory yet again today.

I felt like having some good ol' strawberry yogurt. Right? Right. So I go to the refrigerator, and I grab a cup of yogurt. Now keep in mind, this is NOT one of those weird Danimals Crush Cup things or whatever.

I start to make my way out of the kitchen when the following conversation happened:

Mom: "Uh... don't you need a spoon?"

Me: (immediately without thinking) "NO."

Mom: "Are you sure?"

---Now, at this point, I could have simply admitted that I was wrong. But no, I just HAD to make things more difficult. I have no idea why I was this stubborn.

Me: "Uh... um... yes."

Mom: "Really?"

Me: "Of course. Psh, why would I need a spoon?"

Mom: "You're going to need a spoon."

Me: "No, I'm not. I'm a big girl, Mom. I can eat yogurt without a spoon."

Mom: "Fine, have it your way. (brief pause) Here's the spoon when you want it."

Me: "MY LIFE WILL BE COMPLETE WITHOUT A SPOON."

So. I have prepared several pictures to effectively give you a visual of what took place for the next 20 minutes after that conversation.

I started out by assessing the enemy: the BLASTED yogurt cup.

Maybe I should add lines to make it seem more "action-ish".

There.

Now, I tried to approach it the civil way.

Well, apparently, whoever intented gravity was wrong. It didn't work. WELL, OK, it did. It just took like 10 minutes. AND, not all of it came out.

Right around this point, my mom says, "The spoon is still on the counter if you want to scrape out the bottom."

Me: "I am not a quitter, Mom!"

So, I tried the not-so-civil way.

0.000000001 seconds later...

And when that didn't work, I started to grow really sad.

And depressed.

If you don't feel sorry for me... go punch your tear ducts a little. It'll help, trust me.

And then, I started to grow really, REALLY sad.

Then I got a bright idea! I decided to crush the cup in various ways until I could lick/devour the rest of the yogurt.

These are the remains:

And then I grew extremely happy and ran to rub it in my mom's face. I mean -err- *cough* I ran to "nicely show" my mom that I was all grown up.

She had a slightly amused/horrified look on her face.

Probably because I looked something like this:

Yes, that is yogurt on my face.

The moral of this story:

1. Your mother always knows what's best.

2. Spoons were invented for a reason.

3. Yogurt cups are inferior to ME.

4. I think a bit of my soul died.

5. I just wasted 20 minutes of my life.

All I do is WIN

NOTE: In order to fully enjoy this blog entry, you must first have "All By Myself" by Celine Dion playing in the background. Do it now.

Honestly, I don't win. At all. While my friends and sister are currently at a bonfire having fun, I'm sitting in a hotel room...far away...in sweatpants...while fighting the urge to watch another chik flik -- since things obviously do not end too well when that happens.

Okay, turn off the music now. If you never turned it on in the first place, well... shame on you.

It's okay. Just wipe away your tears.

Ahem.

I have no idea why I'm even posting anything. I really don't. Nothing interesting has happened to me today. OH, except I got 3 tattoos, 6.3 piercings, joined one-and-a-half gangs, and died. (Kidding, of course.)

Yeah, Becky. 'Cause they totally couldn't tell.

Do you see this? I'm talking to myself now. This is not good. SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME.

At the end of the day, I'm still alive and breathing. I'm very grateful for that. I have a family and friends -- I dearly love them all.

Moving on...

After I finished my meal earlier today, I simply watched as Phoebe continued to eat. These are the remains of the meal.

Phoebe: *sigh* "Man, that was great."

Me: "HOW DOES IT EVEN FIT IN YOUR STOMACH?"

Phoebe: "I dunno. Whew. Mommy, my tummy feels happy now. It says it's excited."

Me: "Honey, that's called indigestion."

Next, we went to a Barnes & Noble.

Where my car found its twin. Yes, it was magical.

Please note that my mother drove this time. All of those jokes that you hear about Asian driving? Yes, they are true. Atlanta is a scary place.

my 5'2" mother + other Asians driving = You better watch out.

We go inside the store, and something immediately catches my eye. I bust out laughing and make sure that Phoebe doesn't see it. But OF COURSE I had to go back later and take a picture.

I nearly died laughing. You can ask the guy who was next to me trying to enjoy his book. I think I startled him. Sorry, random dude.

All you ladies better quit looking at that picture. For real, look away.

Last, but not least, I decided to buy a new book. Actually, I bought three. But that's besides the point since I only read one book at a time.

I decided that I would buy a girly book. So, instead of watching the movie, I got this:

It's ovbiously not a book for kids. I don't even know if I should be reading it. But I already bought it, so I might as well.

I only got to page 2 before I realized that I wasn't doing this right.

I got off the couch, put on sweatpants, grabbed a cookie, snuggled into my bed, and continued to read. I'll let you know if it turns out to be any good.

P.s. If you ever need to recognize me from now on, just look for the giant dragon tattoo that's going across my face.