"If you want to sing out
Sing out
And if you want to be free
Be free"
- If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out, Cat Stevens
*snaps fingers and claps, dodie-style*
it's way too late for me to be blogging rn. I was planning to go to sleep an hour-ish ago, but I'm still up! (obviously)
this post is gonna be a bit disjointed and random, but to heck with it. life is disjointed and random!
back in September, I got accepted to the chorale at my school! exciting? yes! I didn't get in last year, so I was super jazzed about being a part of a choir again.
the first few weeks (months?) weren't quite as great as I expected, though. most of the sophomores had been a part of the group during the previous year, which meant they had already formed their friend groups and cliques and whatnot. so I felt kinda left out when people would chat before and after rehearsal since I didn't really know anyone that well.
don't get me wrong, everyone in the chorale is super nice! the environment is so positive and welcoming, which I was hecka grateful for during the times I've fricked up whilst singing.
nonetheless, I still felt like an outsider. which sucked, since I was hoping to make some new amigos during my time in the group. the first few sections of socializing were written during the choir retreat. while everyone else was having fun conversing. yep...
don't be too sad though! things have gotten better!
back in November, I decided to go to our chorale's karaoke night, since I figured there wouldn't be too many people there and momma didn't raise her son to turn down an opportunity to karaoke!! it was a blast. any night where you get to do High School Musical, Queen, and Glee is A-OK in my book. the others were pretty impressed by my mad karaoke skills (I think).
this month, I performed at four Christmas concerts the weekend before finals week. not super ideal conditions, but the performances were also a lot of fun! two wow-worthy things occurred over this period of time. I made a couple of friends during our rehearsals for the concerts! they were people I'd met earlier in the year, but the rehearsals/performances gave us the opportunity to talk more and become chummier. we even got dinner together between performances at one point! and went to go study in a Starbucks as well! like, wow! these are my kind of people :-)
also! halfway through the first(?) performance, I somehow unlocked my hidden potential and found that (after like 5 years of choir) I can finally do vibrato! kinda! not super strong yet, but it's there! this is incredibly exciting for me, since it was something I never got around to learning in high school. even though I probably should've? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
next up: overtone singing! I tried it today out of boredom, just to see if I could. and I can! kinda! not super strong yet, but it's there!
moral of the story: ♪♫♪♫
hmm, that's not a moral. interpret as you may, I guess.
Monday, December 18, 2017
Saturday, October 21, 2017
😟 worrying
"Wish we could turn back time
To the good old days
When our momma sang us to sleep but
Now we're stressed out"
- Stressed Out, TØP
I'm spending the night at a cozy little inn not too far from my actual home. after doing a bit of studying for an upcoming physics test, I decide to turn in early to get some rest before whatever my parents have planned for tomorrow.
an alarm goes off outside our room.
now, I'm the kind of person who usually assumes the worst when it comes to emergencies. but let's face it, most alarms in hotels/inns are associated with fires.
my parents are out at some event, something I assume is not too far from this hotel. that leaves me to take charge in this possible emergency. instinctively, I hoist my brother over my shoulder, grab my room key and phone, and exit the room posthaste.
the term "ear-splitting" has never made too much sense to me before tonight. the alarm is pretty close to our room, and I'm not sure if the terror is enhancing its volume, but it is louder than anything I remember hearing.
strangely, the only person I run into outside is a man who looks like he's also gotten out of bed to check the source of the disturbance. after wandering around the hall a bit, we track the sound to an emergency exit near our room, which must have been triggered somehow.
the sound stops shortly afterward. relieved, I return to our room and tap the key to the scanner. to my dismay, the door has somehow become unresponsive to my card. I tap it several more times in vain, wondering why the system isn't working.
at this point, I'm pretty frustrated. I'd been freaked out pretty badly by a false alarm. my brother isn't as easy to carry around as he used to be. I had taken extra care to grab the key in spite of my sense of panic and it hadn't helped at all.
dismayed, I lug my brother down to the front desk and pick up new keys. I return to our room, place my brother back in bed, and settle down on the bed to stare at the fireplace.
things like these shake me up pretty badly. right now I'm on edge, flinching at every small sound and worrying that the alarm will sound off again.
hopefully it's just a random stroke of bad luck. I don't need this sort of stress in my life.
but I do need to be strong in emergencies (even those that turn out to be false alarms) and know how to protect myself and my family.
if I can figure that out, it'll be one less thing to worry about.
To the good old days
When our momma sang us to sleep but
Now we're stressed out"
- Stressed Out, TØP
I'm spending the night at a cozy little inn not too far from my actual home. after doing a bit of studying for an upcoming physics test, I decide to turn in early to get some rest before whatever my parents have planned for tomorrow.
an alarm goes off outside our room.
now, I'm the kind of person who usually assumes the worst when it comes to emergencies. but let's face it, most alarms in hotels/inns are associated with fires.
my parents are out at some event, something I assume is not too far from this hotel. that leaves me to take charge in this possible emergency. instinctively, I hoist my brother over my shoulder, grab my room key and phone, and exit the room posthaste.
the term "ear-splitting" has never made too much sense to me before tonight. the alarm is pretty close to our room, and I'm not sure if the terror is enhancing its volume, but it is louder than anything I remember hearing.
strangely, the only person I run into outside is a man who looks like he's also gotten out of bed to check the source of the disturbance. after wandering around the hall a bit, we track the sound to an emergency exit near our room, which must have been triggered somehow.
the sound stops shortly afterward. relieved, I return to our room and tap the key to the scanner. to my dismay, the door has somehow become unresponsive to my card. I tap it several more times in vain, wondering why the system isn't working.
at this point, I'm pretty frustrated. I'd been freaked out pretty badly by a false alarm. my brother isn't as easy to carry around as he used to be. I had taken extra care to grab the key in spite of my sense of panic and it hadn't helped at all.
dismayed, I lug my brother down to the front desk and pick up new keys. I return to our room, place my brother back in bed, and settle down on the bed to stare at the fireplace.
things like these shake me up pretty badly. right now I'm on edge, flinching at every small sound and worrying that the alarm will sound off again.
hopefully it's just a random stroke of bad luck. I don't need this sort of stress in my life.
but I do need to be strong in emergencies (even those that turn out to be false alarms) and know how to protect myself and my family.
if I can figure that out, it'll be one less thing to worry about.
Saturday, October 7, 2017
😅 socializing
"It's always about this backseat doubt
Introvert life, if you could figure it out"
- Introvert, The Ludwigs
fun fact: if you haven't figured it out by now, I'm an introvert. I used to think I was an ambivert, but according to an Internet quiz I took, I'm not. and you know, the Internet is always right.
Introvert life, if you could figure it out"
- Introvert, The Ludwigs
fun fact: if you haven't figured it out by now, I'm an introvert. I used to think I was an ambivert, but according to an Internet quiz I took, I'm not. and you know, the Internet is always right.
it doesn't bother me that much though. what people don't really get is that for me, it's more of a choice rather than full-on social anxiety (which I feel is not really something you can self-diagnose). it's not that I can't talk to other people, it's more like I really don't want to.
that's not to say I don't have moments of anxiety or internal freak-outs during social interactions. I will spend days, months, years obsessing over obscure details of long-forgotten conversations. every time I talk to someone new, I have to hope and pray I don't make a fool of myself. usually, things go well, but there's always the looming possibility that everything crashes and burns. hey, I'm pretty sure it's happened before.
as long as the confessions keep rolling in, here's another one - I don't enjoy small talk. like, at all. especially in college, where when you meet new people, you always get the same questions: what year are you in? where are you from? what are you majoring in? I am so fricking sick of being asked what my major is. not to be a dip, but why does matter? what happened to asking about favorite colors? or favorite... numbers? or favorite...... shapes?
the first time I can remember hearing the term "breaking out of one's shell" is in 7th grade, where my teacher was talking about how she was proud of me being more social or whatever. I was a pretty shy/quiet kid in 5th/6th grade, so I guess I was becoming a more outgoing person?
see, but ever since then, my social life has been going on a downward trend. recently I uncovered a memento from 8th grade, a brief self-written overview on my strengths and weaknesses. I wrote down that I needed to "work on my socialism", which goes to show how much (more) of an idiot I was back in the day. *cry-laughing emoji*
in any case, when I got to high school, I was planning to make a bunch of new friends. 'cause you know, meeting new people! yay!
spoiler alert: things got worse.
most of my friends from middle school who also went to my high school had found other friend groups, groups of people I didn't really know too well. I was having a hard time finding a group of people I could hang out with, people with whom I could have convos without being too stressed. I was friending people left and right on FB, but not really friending anyone IRL.
life was pretty rough for a while. I questioned whether or not my high school was right for me. I listened to a lot of trashy electronic music. I ate lunch in the fricking bathroom, for frick's sake. yes, things were pretty sucky.
I found my way. eventually. soon I had good acquaintances in all of my classes. I returned to my alt-rock/indie-pop roots. I moved to the art room for lunch, and eventually to the cafeteria. things were great!
and then I graduated.
most of my good friends are attending different colleges rn. which means that I've had to start from scratch in finding new pals and whatnot.
did I meet new people last year? yes. did I make friends? um, kind of? did I make friends with whom I hang out and talk to on a regular basis? no, definitely not.
as you can see, this social backslide has been going on for quite some time. I became more introverted upon entering high school, and now that I'm in college I'm like a hermit. I don't know, man. maybe I'm just really bad at making friends.
one of my friends from high school (I know, the idea of me having friends is shocking) told me that all squads should consist of an even number of people, so as to prevent people from being left out in conversations. I found his statement really interesting, and since then I've wondered, what happens when there's an "odd one out"?
the conclusion I've come to is that with most groups, there will be one person who's kind of distant/isolated from the group - the "outsider", if you will. and sometimes, the outsider feels more comfortable being slightly separated from the group, because that's just how they are. they don't need to be the center of attention to feel included - they already do.
well, that's how it is for me, I guess. being a part of a group is already more than I could want. I think I figured this stuff out a long time ago - this is just what my life is like.
and I'm okay with it.
that's not to say I don't have moments of anxiety or internal freak-outs during social interactions. I will spend days, months, years obsessing over obscure details of long-forgotten conversations. every time I talk to someone new, I have to hope and pray I don't make a fool of myself. usually, things go well, but there's always the looming possibility that everything crashes and burns. hey, I'm pretty sure it's happened before.
as long as the confessions keep rolling in, here's another one - I don't enjoy small talk. like, at all. especially in college, where when you meet new people, you always get the same questions: what year are you in? where are you from? what are you majoring in? I am so fricking sick of being asked what my major is. not to be a dip, but why does matter? what happened to asking about favorite colors? or favorite... numbers? or favorite...... shapes?
the first time I can remember hearing the term "breaking out of one's shell" is in 7th grade, where my teacher was talking about how she was proud of me being more social or whatever. I was a pretty shy/quiet kid in 5th/6th grade, so I guess I was becoming a more outgoing person?
see, but ever since then, my social life has been going on a downward trend. recently I uncovered a memento from 8th grade, a brief self-written overview on my strengths and weaknesses. I wrote down that I needed to "work on my socialism", which goes to show how much (more) of an idiot I was back in the day. *cry-laughing emoji*
in any case, when I got to high school, I was planning to make a bunch of new friends. 'cause you know, meeting new people! yay!
spoiler alert: things got worse.
most of my friends from middle school who also went to my high school had found other friend groups, groups of people I didn't really know too well. I was having a hard time finding a group of people I could hang out with, people with whom I could have convos without being too stressed. I was friending people left and right on FB, but not really friending anyone IRL.
life was pretty rough for a while. I questioned whether or not my high school was right for me. I listened to a lot of trashy electronic music. I ate lunch in the fricking bathroom, for frick's sake. yes, things were pretty sucky.
I found my way. eventually. soon I had good acquaintances in all of my classes. I returned to my alt-rock/indie-pop roots. I moved to the art room for lunch, and eventually to the cafeteria. things were great!
and then I graduated.
most of my good friends are attending different colleges rn. which means that I've had to start from scratch in finding new pals and whatnot.
did I meet new people last year? yes. did I make friends? um, kind of? did I make friends with whom I hang out and talk to on a regular basis? no, definitely not.
as you can see, this social backslide has been going on for quite some time. I became more introverted upon entering high school, and now that I'm in college I'm like a hermit. I don't know, man. maybe I'm just really bad at making friends.
one of my friends from high school (I know, the idea of me having friends is shocking) told me that all squads should consist of an even number of people, so as to prevent people from being left out in conversations. I found his statement really interesting, and since then I've wondered, what happens when there's an "odd one out"?
the conclusion I've come to is that with most groups, there will be one person who's kind of distant/isolated from the group - the "outsider", if you will. and sometimes, the outsider feels more comfortable being slightly separated from the group, because that's just how they are. they don't need to be the center of attention to feel included - they already do.
well, that's how it is for me, I guess. being a part of a group is already more than I could want. I think I figured this stuff out a long time ago - this is just what my life is like.
and I'm okay with it.
Tuesday, September 26, 2017
📖 shopping
"Be prepared, be prepared,
This lesson must be shared,
This lesson must be shared,
Be prepared!"
- Be Prepared, Hoodwinked!
with a new year, new textbooks are needed.
with the help of Google Maps, I navigate my way from my sister's apartment to the bookstore. before I reach my destination, I find that a construction site is blocking the optimal route.
no biggie, I tell myself. a quick detour will get me where I needed to be.
and so I stroll into the bookstore, down to the lower floor, ready to buy my textbooks.
except for one little thing - I've forgotten to note which books I need.
no biggie, I tell myself. I can pop up to the bookstore's cafe and use their Wi-Fi to figure it out.
when I get to the cafe, I run into one of my classmates from high school, so we chat for a bit while I try to surreptitiously get my freaking page to load.
after a few minutes we part ways, but the cafe Wi-Fi is acting up and I still haven't figured out which books I need.
no biggie, I tell myself. I'll just move deeper into the bookstore and hope their Wi-Fi is better on the second floor.
it isn't.
at this point, it really is becoming a biggie. the long-ish line is probably going to get longer if I let too much time pass, and I want to get my book-buying out of the way AQAP. if I try going back to the cafe, I might run into my classmate again and it would be kinda awkward. but if I want to find which books I needed, I have to walk somewhere with Wi-Fi, then walk back to the bookstore, then walk back down again.
sighing to myself internally, I exit the bookstore and make my way down the avenue to the nearby Starbucks.
after a few minutes of trying to connect, I finally manage to link up with the Starbucks Wi-Fi and lo and behold, the website loads!
... to reveal that an error has prevented the page from loading.
frick this, I tell myself. just as I'm about to throw in the hotel and head back to my dorm, I remember that there's a secondary page where I can find my textbooks, albeit in less detail.
it's good enough for me, though. I pull up the page, screenshot it to be safe, and make my way back up to the bookstore.
thankfully, all of my books are in stock and the line has gotten slightly shorter since I left. it's still a bit of a wait, but nothing compared to, say, Disneyland at peak hours.
I'm also quite thankful that there was enough money on my debit card to purchase my books. last year I'd forgotten to reload my card, so I had to leave my books with the cashier, use the cafe Wi-Fi to get mo money, and come back to buy my books. that's why I expected the cafe Wi-Fi to work this time, but obviously you can't always get what you want.
so, you know. at least I learned one lesson last year.
with my purchases in hand, I make my way back to my dorm, grateful that things worked out okay.
This lesson must be shared,
This lesson must be shared,
Be prepared!"
- Be Prepared, Hoodwinked!
with a new year, new textbooks are needed.
with the help of Google Maps, I navigate my way from my sister's apartment to the bookstore. before I reach my destination, I find that a construction site is blocking the optimal route.
no biggie, I tell myself. a quick detour will get me where I needed to be.
and so I stroll into the bookstore, down to the lower floor, ready to buy my textbooks.
except for one little thing - I've forgotten to note which books I need.
no biggie, I tell myself. I can pop up to the bookstore's cafe and use their Wi-Fi to figure it out.
when I get to the cafe, I run into one of my classmates from high school, so we chat for a bit while I try to surreptitiously get my freaking page to load.
after a few minutes we part ways, but the cafe Wi-Fi is acting up and I still haven't figured out which books I need.
no biggie, I tell myself. I'll just move deeper into the bookstore and hope their Wi-Fi is better on the second floor.
it isn't.
at this point, it really is becoming a biggie. the long-ish line is probably going to get longer if I let too much time pass, and I want to get my book-buying out of the way AQAP. if I try going back to the cafe, I might run into my classmate again and it would be kinda awkward. but if I want to find which books I needed, I have to walk somewhere with Wi-Fi, then walk back to the bookstore, then walk back down again.
sighing to myself internally, I exit the bookstore and make my way down the avenue to the nearby Starbucks.
after a few minutes of trying to connect, I finally manage to link up with the Starbucks Wi-Fi and lo and behold, the website loads!
... to reveal that an error has prevented the page from loading.
frick this, I tell myself. just as I'm about to throw in the hotel and head back to my dorm, I remember that there's a secondary page where I can find my textbooks, albeit in less detail.
it's good enough for me, though. I pull up the page, screenshot it to be safe, and make my way back up to the bookstore.
thankfully, all of my books are in stock and the line has gotten slightly shorter since I left. it's still a bit of a wait, but nothing compared to, say, Disneyland at peak hours.
I'm also quite thankful that there was enough money on my debit card to purchase my books. last year I'd forgotten to reload my card, so I had to leave my books with the cashier, use the cafe Wi-Fi to get mo money, and come back to buy my books. that's why I expected the cafe Wi-Fi to work this time, but obviously you can't always get what you want.
so, you know. at least I learned one lesson last year.
with my purchases in hand, I make my way back to my dorm, grateful that things worked out okay.
moral of the story: write stuff down.
Wednesday, September 20, 2017
😟 returning
"Now we're back in the fight
We're back on the train
Oh, back on the chain gang"
- Back on the Chain Gang, The Pretenders
anxiety. discomfort. depression.
these are the emotions I feel as I return to my university, a sacred site of learning. when people ask me if I enjoy college life, I respond with a smile and an enthusiastic "yeah!"
truth be told, I hate it here. every second spent on this soil makes me feel like my soul is ebbing out, bit by bit. the sight of each building sends waves of distraught through me. if everyone else can enjoy themselves here, why can't I?
I don't share these thoughts with most people though. heck, I've only really been honest about it with a couple of my friends. I don't want them to think I'm super upset or that I'm unappreciative of my opportunities.
I didn't want to come here. it was my last choice, yet it ended up being the one chosen for me. I hate not being in control of my life. I hate seeing my dreams crushed before my eyes. I hate seeing all my time, effort, and hope go to waste.
don't get me wrong, I made a decent effort to make the most of my life last year. I tried to socialize, to explore, to find something that'd make me happy.
and I didn't.
so as I come back, I have to wonder - which classes will be the ones to stress and disappoint me? what opportunities will arise and then come crashing to the ground? what dreams will splinter under the pressure of life itself?
guess I'll have to wait and see. year two. here goes.
We're back on the train
Oh, back on the chain gang"
- Back on the Chain Gang, The Pretenders
anxiety. discomfort. depression.
these are the emotions I feel as I return to my university, a sacred site of learning. when people ask me if I enjoy college life, I respond with a smile and an enthusiastic "yeah!"
truth be told, I hate it here. every second spent on this soil makes me feel like my soul is ebbing out, bit by bit. the sight of each building sends waves of distraught through me. if everyone else can enjoy themselves here, why can't I?
I don't share these thoughts with most people though. heck, I've only really been honest about it with a couple of my friends. I don't want them to think I'm super upset or that I'm unappreciative of my opportunities.
I didn't want to come here. it was my last choice, yet it ended up being the one chosen for me. I hate not being in control of my life. I hate seeing my dreams crushed before my eyes. I hate seeing all my time, effort, and hope go to waste.
don't get me wrong, I made a decent effort to make the most of my life last year. I tried to socialize, to explore, to find something that'd make me happy.
and I didn't.
so as I come back, I have to wonder - which classes will be the ones to stress and disappoint me? what opportunities will arise and then come crashing to the ground? what dreams will splinter under the pressure of life itself?
guess I'll have to wait and see. year two. here goes.
Sunday, September 10, 2017
😟 breathing
"Is this my life? Am I breathing underwater?" - Breathing Underwater, Metric
⚠️
when I was in 6th grade, I suddenly remembered a random fact from a National Geographic Kids magazine - "you can't breathe and swallow at the same time". for whatever reason, that really got to me, and for a few months afterward, I had problems eating. trying to time my swallowing right, to make my eating look normal, to avoid choking and possibly dying. eventually I "re-learned" how to eat normally, and all was well. for some time.
during the summer of 2015, my family went to Utah for the 4th of July weekend. we had packed breakfast sandwiches to eat in the airport, since we had to leave the house super early. as I started eating my sandwich, that stupid fact snuck into my head again. I started choking on my sandwich, but luckily was able to swallow it with some water. I was ticked off that this problem was occurring again, but I figured it would go away in a few months again.
spoiler alert: it's still here.
during concert season of my senior year in high school, I picked up the baritone saxophone again. the last time I'd played it had been in sophomore year, but I figured if I could do it back then, it would be a cinch for senior me. it wasn't. to this day I don't know if it was my embouchure, my breath control, or the saxophone itself, but more often than not, all I could produce was awful-sounding squeaking. it sucked. notes that had once been so easy to play were now riddled with terror-inducing possibilities, as I risked embarrassing myself in front of all my classmates. repeatedly. during one concert in February, I was supposed to play with a handful of other instruments for the intro of Ammerland. not wanting to ruin the program with my squeaking, I did something I had never done before - I faked playing my instrument. I felt awful. not only was I throwing off the balance of the parts, but my fear and incompetence was degrading my self-confidence. thankfully, by the time we got to band assessments in March, I had come up with a slew of tricks that would allow me to (barely) make decent-sounding notes with my sax and play the entire intro of Ammerland with the other sections (without squeaking!!). even now, when I pick up my good old alto sax for some practice, my insides still clench up instinctively, remembering the pseudo-trauma from that lovely, banged up bari sax.
are these problems connected somehow? no idea. but they're pretty annoying nonetheless. sometimes I try to practice gulping down some food without a gulp of water, but end up panicking when I become aware of my own breathing. sometimes I try to practice some low notes on my alto sax, but end up with the same sort of squeaking that plagued my bari playing. maybe someday this'll pass and I'll be able to eat carne asada without a single glass of water. maybe someday I'll pick up a bari sax and bust out tunes like nobody's business. maybe I'll learn how to breathe again.
or maybe not.
⚠️
when I was in 6th grade, I suddenly remembered a random fact from a National Geographic Kids magazine - "you can't breathe and swallow at the same time". for whatever reason, that really got to me, and for a few months afterward, I had problems eating. trying to time my swallowing right, to make my eating look normal, to avoid choking and possibly dying. eventually I "re-learned" how to eat normally, and all was well. for some time.
during the summer of 2015, my family went to Utah for the 4th of July weekend. we had packed breakfast sandwiches to eat in the airport, since we had to leave the house super early. as I started eating my sandwich, that stupid fact snuck into my head again. I started choking on my sandwich, but luckily was able to swallow it with some water. I was ticked off that this problem was occurring again, but I figured it would go away in a few months again.
spoiler alert: it's still here.
during concert season of my senior year in high school, I picked up the baritone saxophone again. the last time I'd played it had been in sophomore year, but I figured if I could do it back then, it would be a cinch for senior me. it wasn't. to this day I don't know if it was my embouchure, my breath control, or the saxophone itself, but more often than not, all I could produce was awful-sounding squeaking. it sucked. notes that had once been so easy to play were now riddled with terror-inducing possibilities, as I risked embarrassing myself in front of all my classmates. repeatedly. during one concert in February, I was supposed to play with a handful of other instruments for the intro of Ammerland. not wanting to ruin the program with my squeaking, I did something I had never done before - I faked playing my instrument. I felt awful. not only was I throwing off the balance of the parts, but my fear and incompetence was degrading my self-confidence. thankfully, by the time we got to band assessments in March, I had come up with a slew of tricks that would allow me to (barely) make decent-sounding notes with my sax and play the entire intro of Ammerland with the other sections (without squeaking!!). even now, when I pick up my good old alto sax for some practice, my insides still clench up instinctively, remembering the pseudo-trauma from that lovely, banged up bari sax.
are these problems connected somehow? no idea. but they're pretty annoying nonetheless. sometimes I try to practice gulping down some food without a gulp of water, but end up panicking when I become aware of my own breathing. sometimes I try to practice some low notes on my alto sax, but end up with the same sort of squeaking that plagued my bari playing. maybe someday this'll pass and I'll be able to eat carne asada without a single glass of water. maybe someday I'll pick up a bari sax and bust out tunes like nobody's business. maybe I'll learn how to breathe again.
or maybe not.
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