Farewells

As I stared at my room for the last time, I tried to memorize the features. Standing from my vantage point at the doorway, I scanned the room with familiarity. The glass doors leading to the dirty balcony, its curtains pulled over it for the moment - and probably for the rest of the summer and beyond - the closet, doors ajar, piled high with pillows, my bed with rumpled sheets since I'm too lazy to ever make my bed, and my desk, three sides walled by books as if to protect me from reality. I smile, bittersweet. While I had been waiting all summer, and even before that, to get out of Dalian, the sadness of seeing something for the last time just got me.

I did not exactly enjoy my stay in Dalian. Oh no, really, I viewed it like a prison. I lived in a gated community, whose entrance code was never told to me so I could never venture outwards. Not that I ever wanted to; Chinese streets are no where near as safe as American ones, and if I got lost, the chances of me finding my way back home were slim since I can barely speak a drop of Chinese. I stayed at home most days, hunched in my dark room - I was too lazy to turn on the lights - in front of the computer, desperately wishing for something to do. I even started counting down the days until I was able to go back to Duke.

But looking back, it wasn't a prison, not really. It was a time where I had the freedom to do whatever I want, without having to worry about money or homework or anything. I could do exactly what I wanted to do, without having to worry about this or that. School was out for the summer and as a college student, there was no such thing as summer homework, I didn't have to work, I had a dog to torment when I was bored. This was life as I had wanted it.

Then, why exactly did I complain about this to friends every day? Why did I think myself a prisoner, a captive, a bird with clipped wings in a silver cage?

Perhaps it's just human nature to find something, anything, to nitpick about. Perhaps it was just me,
young, finding a way to rebel. But as I thought more about it, it was because I wasn't doing anything. Nothing at all. I sat in front of my computer, replying to threads on my roleplay forum and participating in the Altador Cup on Neopets. No, instead, I wanted to be doing something useful, like getting a job.

I like to think that I've changed because of Duke. While I would have given everything in high school to just have the time to sit there and do nothing, now that's the opposite of what I want. I want to be doing homework, working hard to earn good grades, or being out there in some minimum wage job, learning new skills like how to operate a cash register.

Maybe I'll get my wish this summer. And definitely, for sure, I'll get my wish next summer. 

And who am I?

I should have probably introduced myself before my last post, but I didn't.

But that's okay. My blog is still new, I'm still here, trying to earn some money to pay for college (although AdSense doesn't like me and isn't working properly...). But here it is - here is me:

I go by the alias Jeli on the internet. And no, sorry, I will not be telling you my real name because well, obvious reasons. I don't exactly want a stalker or somebody out there knowing who I am when I complain or rant about people and habits and stuff like that. I recently turned eighteen, whoo~! Legal now, which means plenty of scratch-its and lottery tickets as I valiantly hold onto the hope that someday in the near future, I'll win and all my financial problems will be solved. I'm a girl, short, and Asian with the characteristic long straight, black, side parted locks that nearly all Asians seem to have. I go to Duke, the awesome school of awesome basketball team, and plan on majoring in biomedical engineering. I'm also premed, if you know, the engineering thing doesn't work out.

Um. I'm slightly insane, wacky, and refuse to fit into the norm. I wish I could get my hands onto more alcohol, but meh, that's okay. Not drinking means in the long run, I'll make better decisions or at least that's my justification for not being able to get my hands on any alcohol. I often forgo homework to watch House or the Big Bang Theory or just to talk to friends, and I am unable to keep the top of my desk clean for more than three hours at a time. I also need to remember to drink more liquids, which is a problem. And I  need to go to bed earlier. It's six in the morning here. Which is a bigger problem.

Alright. Well, that's probably boring. Not probably, it is. So yay, I'm done. Thank you for sloughing through my horrendous writing and putting up for me. I wish I could stay awake for all of my friends leaving this morning, but um...I figure that's not a smart choice. I need to sleep. Good night slash morning to you all. 

To Interview

I'm nervous. I shouldn't be. It's a fifteen minute interview, about some trivial thing that I want to do the week before school stars - FACing.

Yes...FACing.

No, not that. I want to be a first year advising coordinator or whatever the junk it stands for. I just want to help out so so much because my freshman year here at Duke was an absolute blast. It's amazing. I'm so very grateful that I chose Duke over Caltech, for the social scene, the close knit group of friends, the amazing atmosphere, and oh, duh, the basketball. It brings me close to not regretting my decision.

But anyhow.

This shouldn't make me nervous. Why should I care if I get this position? It's stupid, it's trivial, it's such a tiny part of Orientation Week. It lasts a week and then you have to crack down--school starts.

I should not be nervous for this, oh no, no way.

But for some reason, after that horrendous deluge of college interviews, just the thought of talking to another person for a job, a position, a spot freaks me out. Butterflies invade my stomach. I wobble forward on my feet, looking more drunk that confident. I stutter and stumble and can't muster up the courage to talk straight.

Perhaps it's the thought that if I fail, it just proves the point about how inadequate and unready I am for real life. Perhaps it's because I am afraid of failure. The majority of the people that apply get the position, and if I don't. Well. Just think about what that could mean.

Anyways, I should head out because I'm walking there (yes, in the dark because I don't know where the bus stops). Wish me luck.