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helioflora414
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Birthday: 4/14/1900
Gender: Female
Interests: My interests vary daily. As does my favorite color (though most frequently, it's maroon.)
cow boys of the wild wild east.
Occupation: Student
Message: message me
AIM:  kootiebug414
Member Since:
10/18/2004
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| There's really no point in updating my xanga. There are maybe two people on the face of the planet who will perhaps see this post and their names are Andrew and Tamaki. Frankly, I was just sitting here, accumulating thoughts and realized I just type faster than I write.
It doesn't really matter how much you are complimented, you are basically told from day one that you are going to fail at life. No matter how hard you work, you will fail. Actually, the compliments don't help. They give you false hope and an ego to boot. It is on this note, that I acknowledge my faults.
I don't work hard. Grades are arbitrary, and I 'do well' based on a faulty system of curves and statistics. I don't really care about anything nor am I proficient in my so-called passions. I complain instead of being proactive (e.g. here I type a xanga post at 1:32AM instead of sleeping or studying.) I am an elitist, my conclusions of such based on no substance whatsoever. I am a follower, and having been told since elementary school that I am a natural leader, I make for a very weak figurehead. I blame others for my shortcomings.
I hope that this epiphany will prove to be humbling and thus constructive. So far, it has just made me question every aspect of my present condition. My social life is currently under scrutiny of my mood, which lately teeters from the depths of depression to solid gold euphoria. I am very afraid to trust both my new and old friends. I go to bed every night anxious and awake afraid. I wonder that this is the stress of simply getting older.
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| MAY I?There must be something about this time of year. Perhaps it's the coming of summer. That yet another turn of the wheel has left me standing dumbfounded in the middle of nowhere asking, 'How on earth have I gotten myself here? Where did the time go?' And I return to xanga.
I am not prepared for summer. For my entire life, the end of the school year flag has been raised in a relaxed atmosphere as classes dwindle to an overlooked halt, yearbooks are signed and sand is once again cemented beneath toenails. Instead, I find myself faced with the daunting thought of packing my half of the room into a few sterilite boxes never to be arranged the same way again, moving back in with my parents... all of this taken care of while I'm supposed to be studying for finals. Speaking of finals, I have to do well on them this quarter because I managed to merely scrape satisfactory grades on my midterms.
I am not looking forward to returning to PV, to reverting to my suburbian consumer lifestyle. I will miss my commune-like DC, how it efficiently feeds so many thousand everyday, composts waste and offers copious amounts of 'this fruit/vegetable grown n miles from Davis; n<25'. I will miss riding my bike everywhere, especially since... 
 Just in case you haven't noticed, this is going to be an epic summer. No gas. If the internet still keeps being as effed as ever then our 'stay inside' back up plans crash and burn. It sounds like hell, but I am excited.
But before that, I need to get through this weekend. I fly into LAX late Friday night, do prom-related things Saturday, depart LAX at noon Sunday, and perform in the Mondavi Center in Davis Sunday night. Without dying.
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| spring feverI'm having a bad day.
It's already mid-April (I knew this quarter was going to go by quickly), but that means midterms start Friday and this is the first quarter I've felt completely surprised by the sight of the calendar. I'm incredibly unmotivated to do anything--work out, study, SLEEP. For the past two years, April means APs, the band-aid which as so firmly adhered to the oh-so-sleep-deprived students, are about to be swiftly and painfully ripped off to leave all of May and half of June for watching movies in class. I love the quarter system, but I am seriously not wanting to convince myself that my biology professors are giving me the info I need for the midterm (they are biologists. EVERYTHING is arbitrary. If there's no right answer, what's going to be on the test, praytell??)
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| silence.Today, I was sitting in my calc lecture, one in about three hundred listening to a rather crotchety old man lecture on integrals (double yawn). I was already slightly annoyed, for the lecture hall is located in a rather old building, so the seats are situated on a rather steep slope (m = ~ 1), the seats are made of clunky aluminum and are so close together even I, of rather short stature, notice the lack of leg room. About five minutes into lecture, I notice that the girl next to me mutters under her breath the answer to every rhetorical question the old professor asked.
"And we're going to take the derivative..."
"2x..."
"We'll multiply here..."
"Oh, he's using the chain rule..."
UGH!
To the idiot chick who had the misfortune of sitting beside me in lecture: it's not a mark of your proficiency at calculus if you can answer questions a professor asks in a third quarter 16B class. Chances are, if you're there, you didn't take calc in high school or if you were like me, already took it and just decided to skip. BUT you don't see me reassuring anyone and everyone within earshot that I know my shit.
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| Time for a post.Things have been changing lately. That sounds like a really lame sentence (and come to think of it, this one does too). I've decided I have a lot of things on my mind right now and I'm just going to write and write so they come out and if it sounds like a crap load of run-on sentences that turn into an angsty post from my Sophomore year in High School then so be it.
First of all, what's up with this new xanga? Xanga! You are not facebook! Stop trying to be a networking site. You are not. You are for angsty posts. The end.
Second, I must start off by saying I'm very proud and feel lucky to attend the University of California. Premier research university, world renowned, top agricultural school... that's all good and well, but I'm starting to feel a bit jipped. Since I started my college career, sour events beyond my control have made my experience less than perfect.
First, (and this is entirely my fault), I underestimated myself and did not "waste my time" with the regent scholar essays. So of course I didn't get regent scholar... however I ended up with an annual scholarship that sums more than that of the average UC regent scholar, which tells me I probably would have been one had I applied....
Which would have put me directly into the Integrated Studies Honors Program. This little operation sent me an application saying "congrats, you're in the top 5% of the incoming class! Be in ishp!" so I say "yes, please, thank you." and they say "OOHP JK! Not enough room. We didn't pick you. Have fun being a normal UCD student!" These ISHP brats live in the building adjacent to mine, get priority registration and have the honor of being called... well... an honors student.
I finish this post about a month after I began it and since then I made the Dean's list. Doing so landed me a place setting at the Dean's luncheon, during which a bunch of smarmy speakers told us about all the opportunities they had coming to UC Davis, how we have made the "transition", and if we weren't already, we should be in Honors programs because "we have what it takes". The woman sitting next to me asked if I was a Davis Honors Challenge student. I told her the above saga (abridged) of how "ISHP rejected me". She makes a small deal out of this, then revealing that she is indeed the DIRECTOR of the program. STING!! It felt good.
The jipping continues, however. I was put on the alternate list for 2008-09 RA.
Then Sharon and I volunteered our room to be shown during welcome days (for a measley $40 each)... however, due to "very demanding interest in the welcome day residence hall showing", we were put on the--get this--WAIT LIST.
I am at the same time completely disheartened at my lack of luck and utterly motivated to seek revenge by succeeding impossibly beyond what Davis thought I could do... just as I did with ISHP first quarter. "HEY! ISHP! SUCK ON THIS: 3.77 GPA!"
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