first post
Entry #1
I decided to create a LiveJournal as my place to write anonymously. Like a good little Korean girl, I have a Xanga that all have access to, but this is where I can write freely about day-to-day life without worrying about the effect it may have on loved ones. Who knows if anyone will ever read this.
"Allow myself to introduce ... myself." (Ten points and a cookie if you can name the movie.)
I'm twenty years old and live on the second highest floor of a high-rise with an incredible view on a college campus. My roommate generously allowed me to arrange our room with my bed against the window because I like it that way. I'm almost legally blind, so at night, I drop my glasses and let the lights from the street get blurry so I can fall asleep to surreality. The street lights and late-night traffic also convince me that I'm living the city life. Like most small-town girls, I've had Friends-esque dreams of living and working in the city, but my internship in the financial district last summer convinced me that I might kill myself if those dreams ever materialize. Still, I keep a poster of yellow taxis on my wall to remind myself that at some point my ambitions were different.
I also keep a small jade cross on a thin black cord hanging from my desk lamp. I bought that necklace in China two summers ago for a boyfriend who broke up with me the day I got back to Jersey. He's a writer and damn clever with his words, and he made me feel worthless that day. I used to look at that cross to tell myself that I am worth something; now, I keep the cross to remind myself that there are things that matter beyond my worth.
I'm a third year student in undergrad, and one of my biggest pet peeves is when people identify college students by their majors. So, I'm not going to say what I'm studying. I don't plan on pursuing either major post-grad anyhow.
I live with a few girls my own age in our two-bedroom apartment. One is the Renaissance woman -- athletic, artsy, smart as hell, and disarmingly outgoing. One is small, cute, and very much a girl, but has an incredibly sharp eye and a presence of mind not to be expected from someone with a Minnie Mouse voice. My roommate is severely lacking in noonchi*, which makes me want to kill her sometimes, but she is stubbornly loyal to those she loves, and she has the unconquerable sense of humor required to live with someone like me.
(*For you non-Koreans, "noonchi" translated literally is "measuring with the eyes" -- a sort of intuitive sixth sense that allows you to properly read and assess social situations and react accordingly.)
I firmly believe that "faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see", but still my heart gets heavy from time to time. I don't like to write about this on my other journal because it might bring people down. Don't worry -- not all my entries will be low. There are also joys that occupy the secret parts of my heart.
However, dear reader, the highs and lows of my heart will have to wait until another entry. I have an hour and a half to finish an application.
I decided to create a LiveJournal as my place to write anonymously. Like a good little Korean girl, I have a Xanga that all have access to, but this is where I can write freely about day-to-day life without worrying about the effect it may have on loved ones. Who knows if anyone will ever read this.
"Allow myself to introduce ... myself." (Ten points and a cookie if you can name the movie.)
I'm twenty years old and live on the second highest floor of a high-rise with an incredible view on a college campus. My roommate generously allowed me to arrange our room with my bed against the window because I like it that way. I'm almost legally blind, so at night, I drop my glasses and let the lights from the street get blurry so I can fall asleep to surreality. The street lights and late-night traffic also convince me that I'm living the city life. Like most small-town girls, I've had Friends-esque dreams of living and working in the city, but my internship in the financial district last summer convinced me that I might kill myself if those dreams ever materialize. Still, I keep a poster of yellow taxis on my wall to remind myself that at some point my ambitions were different.
I also keep a small jade cross on a thin black cord hanging from my desk lamp. I bought that necklace in China two summers ago for a boyfriend who broke up with me the day I got back to Jersey. He's a writer and damn clever with his words, and he made me feel worthless that day. I used to look at that cross to tell myself that I am worth something; now, I keep the cross to remind myself that there are things that matter beyond my worth.
I'm a third year student in undergrad, and one of my biggest pet peeves is when people identify college students by their majors. So, I'm not going to say what I'm studying. I don't plan on pursuing either major post-grad anyhow.
I live with a few girls my own age in our two-bedroom apartment. One is the Renaissance woman -- athletic, artsy, smart as hell, and disarmingly outgoing. One is small, cute, and very much a girl, but has an incredibly sharp eye and a presence of mind not to be expected from someone with a Minnie Mouse voice. My roommate is severely lacking in noonchi*, which makes me want to kill her sometimes, but she is stubbornly loyal to those she loves, and she has the unconquerable sense of humor required to live with someone like me.
(*For you non-Koreans, "noonchi" translated literally is "measuring with the eyes" -- a sort of intuitive sixth sense that allows you to properly read and assess social situations and react accordingly.)
I firmly believe that "faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see", but still my heart gets heavy from time to time. I don't like to write about this on my other journal because it might bring people down. Don't worry -- not all my entries will be low. There are also joys that occupy the secret parts of my heart.
However, dear reader, the highs and lows of my heart will have to wait until another entry. I have an hour and a half to finish an application.