Semi-charmed kind of life.

This afternoon, I was in line at the grocery store. I purchased chicken strips, rice, an assortment of crackers, and butter. I stood behind three people in the Express Lane with my grocery basket, iPod headphones in my ears blaring "Raspberry Beret" by Prince. My eyes wandered all over the store, from the two girls in self-checkout next to me that got in their line after I had gotten in mine, to the cashier donning the gold shimmering sunglasses with the word "Ezekiel" tattooed on the nape of his neck, and finally the man standing in front of me.

There was nothing particularly interesting about his appearance: maybe mid-40s, short, dirty blonde hair, and wasn't exceptionally tall nor notably short. The only thing I found curious about him was the way he was carrying his seemingly heavy, overburdenous basket and his extremely thick, khaki colored trenchcoat, but seeing as it has been about 30°F all day, the latter wasn't particularly out of the ordinary. He was carrying his basket with both hands placed in front of his thighs. I couldn't help but look, but there was a wad of cash rolled up in one hand and a lot of white rectangular boxes in the basket. When it was his turn to be checked out by the cashier, he dumped well over a dozen boxes of a generic brand knockoff of Robitussin DM onto the conveyor belt. I was completely in awe. No one else seemed to notice, not the asian kid behind me unloading his boxes of macaroni and cheese from his basket, not the two girls checking out their own groceries next to me, not even the "Ezekiel"-inked cashier scanning all the boxes of 'Tussin.

The man paid the cashier in cash, took his grocery bags full of cough syrup, and walked straight to the SunTrust ATM to withdraw more cash. I was so distracted by the man and his massive purchase, that I didn't even hear the cashier ask me for my customer card. I walked right to the pharmacy and asked the the pharmacist if there was a maximum quantity of products containing Dextromethorphan that one was allowed to purchase at once. She replied that there isn't, and apparently there isn't an age restriction either, but that particular grocery store checks to ensure that the purchaser is over the age of 18.

This startles me to no end. For the nondrug-savvy population, products containing "DXM", typically most of the cough syrups that have the letters "DM" at the end (ie: Robitussin DM, Dimetapp DM), are used amongst youth and others addicted to such substances of the like to achieve a "high" of sorts. The inexperienced user typically just chugs as much of the syrup (about 2 full bottles) to get high, the more seasoned DXM users extract it out of the syrup to achieve its full effect without the medication grogginess (in case you're interested in how this godforsaken stuff is made, instructions can be found here). With enough cough syrup, one can extract DXM and have an experience somewhere between an LSD-like "trip" and a crystal meth-like "high". With proper storage, you can pawn this substance off onto others for a small profit.

Maybe it's not my place at all to voice an opinion on other people's actions if it is legal, but I don't understand how people can get away with doing stuff like this. Maybe a law should be passed that all DM containing products should be kept behind the counter, maybe there should be a maximum allowed quantity purchase. But then the same legislature would have to be passed for whipped cream cans (so as to prevent the masses from doing "whippits"). DXM has not been proven to create a physiological addiction, but it's been shown to create psychological addictions. The user gets used to the feeling of being "high", the accessibility of the drug, and the ease of increasing dosage should they begin to develop tolerance. It still causes brain damage. It still causes so many adverse reactions and literally hurts your body, don't people know it's just not worth it to put your body through it only for a few hours of euphoria?

Everyone is given one body, what you do with yours is up to you, but I want to be the one to make sure you don't continue to abuse it.

*sigh* Oh, nine.

Well, so much for that. Successfully canned 2008 and, whether we were even ready for it, 2009 stormed in. I used to hate it when people would say "Wow, I can't believe that the year is over already!" or "Man, that year just blew by!", or something of the like. 2008 was the first year that I actually feel went by a lot faster than it should have. I found myself at the end of the year grabbing straws as if I were going to die the minute it turned 1/1/2009. It was a year I felt I wasn't living: I lived for school and work and everyone else and would have died before I did anything for myself.

• Spring 2008: 21 credits with work and what a mistake that was. My coworker, Suzie, left me for a job at the School of Pharmacy, but I made a new great friend, Heather, in her place. Ended a "thing" with a guy that I probably should have never started to begin with. My roommate hated him, my friends thought he was shady, not to mention that I was just a novelty to him. Apparently us asian women are in a high demand amongst our caucasian male peers. Ran the Monument 10K in the rain in about 53 minutes (shrug, shouldn't have stayed up until 4am that morning). Ran the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure in about 27 minutes. Stood in monsoon-like freezing rain for about 5 hours to see Radiohead live at Nissan Pavilion. It was totally worth the wet, smelly drive home and frostbitten toes.


• Summer 2008: Learned a lot of new definitions that summer. Worked every day from 8am to 5pm, defined the typical "office job" in my book. Met the most amazing person in the world only to learn the meaning of "bad timing". Had the greatest time in NYC and LA, only to realize that said person personified "heartlessness". I firmly resolved that I would do the same, maybe it would keep me from having emotions. Also met a guy that redefined the phrase "dumb as dirt", showed me how small Richmond really is when you're stuck in a world where everyone is like yourself.


• Fall 2008: Ouch. 3 graduate classes, 2 undergraduate classes, teaching assistantship, office work, and my sister's personal wedding planner. Talk about a tough 4 months right? Honest to god, I've never worked harder, slept less, ate less, not been in my apartment as often as I had in this semester. I lived in my office and literally slept at my desk probably 3 to 4 nights a week. So you might be asking, "Why would someone do this to themself?" I guess I was trying to prove something to my dad, my friends, and myself. I wanted to show my dad that he's wrong about me not being able excel in science; I wanted my friends to see that I'm serious about graduate studies in the medicine; and I wanted to know for myself that I can do anything if I want it bad enough. I got a MacBook and subsequently fell in love with all things Apple. Made my entire life run on Google. Re-established a kinship with my older sister while planning her wedding after she discovered that the friends she thought were "close" were not really friends at all. Learned that I'm an awesome Maid-of-Honor speechwriter. Trekked across the country with my $250-friend to UCCS. My best friends are going to stick by my side no matter what I'm going through and I love them for it.


• Winter 2008: Spent time with my momma, it's a lot harder than it sounds, trust me. It's never been so lonely at home without my brother and sister around. Of course everytime I saw my dad (which I tried to make as infrequent as possible), he lectured me about something. Won my fantasy football league and might even win the Blackfinn Pick 'Em league. Played the "heartless" card on a few boys, wondering if it's starting to become a defense mechanism. Realized that the only person in this world that's going to help me get what I want is myself. Went to the Downtown Countdown with my almost-bigbrother/cousin and his friends and had a blast. Caught up with an old friend that I haven't talked to since high school. It's amazing how much I've changed in 6 years.

So what's in store for 2009? Well, first and foremost, the theme is going to be self-improvement. I'm going to be running every race I can this year and run a consistent 8 minute mile, no matter what the total distance is. Eating healthy could also be a good start and not eating everything that comes out of a package or box. Also going to try looking groomed and maintained no matter how tired or beat I am; inherent in that is finally learning how to use makeup.

A newer friend of mine said that you should tell everyone your dreams, because out of all the people that belittle you, there might be one person that may help you achieve what you want. For her, it was her boyfriend. I don't know who it might be for me, but it wouldn't surprise me if I haven't met that person yet. Maybe I should learn to trust people more, maybe I should learn to let people into my world no matter how uncomfortable it feels. Though, it's really hard after you've done it before and been shot down so many times. There were definitely times in the past year that I doubted my capabilities and intellectual capacity, but I'm going to try and not do that anymore. I know I'm not the brightest crayon in the box, but I'm not dumb; just a little slower than everyone else I guess.

All the effort in the world won't matter if you're not inspired. And believe me,
I am inspired.

So simple.

The entire commerical after 0:03 is completely made of still shots. The spot doesn't overemphasize the product (Canon Rebel XSi) but simulates motion through rapid-fire stills.
I don't know; It's just beautiful.

Director: Andrew Douglas
Music: Sacred Noise

Happy freakin' December.

Between Tuesday and Wednesday, I had an exam, 2 finals, and a presentation. I was happy as a clam last night after all was said and done. I went to the bar behind my apartment by myself. I sat down and ordered a beer. I smiled and shamelessly hit on the bartender.

The guy to my right, Lars, is a senior at my university majoring in english and philosophy. He enjoys reading short stories and fiction by authors I've never heard of and made it a point to let me know that my poor taste in reading selection was ultimately inferior to his.

To my left was a person I'd met earlier this year; the friends that introduced me to him look up to him as some sort of oracle. (They also told me that I'm a huge loser for studying a lot and going to graduate school.) I never really understood this, everytime someone said anything to him ("how's the weather outside?"), he would gaze off into space until all the particles and quarks solidified to form the answer to your question, and definitively affirm that it's 62 degrees and partially sunny with a slight breeze from what feels like the west. Everytime you spoke to him. So it surprised me that this insightful fellow was sitting next to me smoking some Natural American brand cigarettes. Attempting to incite conversation, I sarcastically remarked that "they're terrible for you in case you haven't heard". Now, the monologue that ensued was perhaps the most uninsightful knockoff of Zeitgeist that I've ever heard. Two things I learned about this guy:

1. He must have taken me for a complete idiot.
2. He thinks that he conceptualized Zeitgeist and brought it into being.

He's a first generation immigrant to America, legitimate citizen with a greencard and everything, but ironically, he hates being here. He ex-/com-plained how everyone that works owes the worst debt by owing their soul to the universe. Everyone from the tobacco industry, to the doctors that help tobacco users, to the people that dig their graves, all owe much more than their debt to the "Fed" (you've got to watch the movie to understand this); "the working man", he says, "owes their soul to the universe...only when they're not working can they ever be liberated". Universal debt: that's apparently the name of the game. For the first 10 minutes, I pretended I'd never seen the movie or performed any extensive research into the validity of this theory, but after a while, seeing how skewed his perception of the world was, I had to let him know he didn't just think up these ideas while sitting there talking to me.

As much as I enjoy conversation completely plagiarized from a socioeconomic/religious conspiracy theory film after stuffing my brain for 3 months with information that might actually matter in saving someone's life someday, I was disgusted. I couldn't believe that people really buy into this and was even more awestruck they'd try to push these beliefs onto others. This is our society. Ideas are toxic.

Last call rounded the corner and thankfully for my shortening temper, he left to continue "being owned by his debt". (This is the sound of me shaking my head in annoyance.) I chatted with the bartender for a bit longer and signed my receipt with my phone number, something I had only previously heard of in tales from friends. I walked home in the cold.

Only two more finals to go to finish out the longest semester of my life.

So long Richmond.

I woke up this morning at about 7am. I made a cup of coffee. I put two of my bags in my car. I got a "Good Morning" greeting from my friend "G" en route to the car. "G" wanders our street all day and night asking people for change and especially likes to solicit in front of my apartment.

I drove around the city.

This morning was especially overcast, about 42°F, bare trees, foliage in the streets, trash on the sidewalks. There were a few of G's friends puttering around the sidewalks, aimlessly wandering to who-knows-where.

For the first time, in my eyes, Richmond was ugly.

When I first came here 5 years ago, I wanted to own this city. I wanted to know everyone that was important and every person that could make a difference at the university. I wanted to be a doctor. I wanted to save lives. I wanted nothing but to make a difference in someone's life by bettering their health. I can't do that here. I hate this city.

My dad, who has his own small business, wants me to get a job. "Keep going to school if you want, but don't keep thinking that medical school is a possibility for you" he said, a nice way of saying that I'm too dumb to get in (or that I won't make a good doctor, I couldn't tell). He only wants me to be happy, and thinks that when I have an income I'll be happy, just like him. Except he's not happy, and he has an almost-six-figure income. Up until this year, he was as supportive as he's capable of me chasing my dream, but there was something about me graduating that made him all of a sudden want me to get a job immediately.

Fine Dad, you win. No more "chasing of dreams". But I'm done here. And now I'm leaving.

This begins the struggle to move across the country, where I've always imagined myself, in California.