well shit, son

What if  

instead of "Well shit, son"

you read it as "Well-shit, son!"

I was walking along the Great Highway with my totally pasty, unshaven legs chilling out in striped shorts (rather inappropriate for the bitingly cold wind, for the record), when I asked my mom to take an outfit photo with her phone for my blog. Immediately after she snapped the first one, I was shat on by a bird.

Well-shit, son.

Then my grandma made me go buy a Lotto ticket for good luck.

I guess I must not be very lucky, because I didn't win. Maybe the third time's the charm. I've only been pooped on by birds twice, after all. (The first time was in fourth grade. I was wearing glasses, and it somehow pooped on my left eye in the space between the glass and my face. Well-shit indeed, son.)

By the way, here's the first of the many friendship bracelets I GAVE MYSELF TENDINITIS making.

Hat: gift. Sweater: old school uniform. Striped denim shorts: aunt's. Boots: Steven by Steve Madden. Bracelets: gift and DIY.

poor aim + W1L 006: Write one leaf about being intoxicated.

I should really check my photos immediately after I take them...

Fake pashmina: gift. Gray cardigan: Uniqlo. Shirt you can barely see: Apt 9 via Kohl's. Convertible mittens: J. Crew, gift. Dress: mother's. Boots: Steven by Steve Madden. Expert aim: years of practice.

I write stuff after the jump.

this is a rather large photo dump

With unintelligent commentary. Just to make up for having no pictures yesterday.

I am not a photographer. (But Yvan Rodic is. And my miniature recap of last night's fashion forum is at the end of this post.)

Starting off with...

The fabric-covered frames my roommate glued and stapled with her own hands and brought to put a little color in our living room. I kind of wish that instead of fabric-covered frames, we had a giant wall of fabric swatches instead. Oh my God that would be so cool. Actually, maybe I'll do that over my headboard.

And these thrifted ... glass frame things.

Above, the rather ambitious family dinner my mom roped me into helping out with.

Lamb, salmon, pile of vegetables, pile of vegetables deux. I don't know what's up with my mom and arranging vegetables, but it's a pain.

SUGARRRRRRRRR. (Store-bought, obviously.)

Above, an unrelated food photo from another meal.

A monster-sized grape.

MY GRYFFINDOR PEN. On my linguistics textbook. It doesn't know which team to play for because if you turn it over, it's...

MY SLYTHERIN PEN!!!

Above, epic fail of the my-head-is-too-heavy variety: glasses with headphones with a headband. Don't do it. So much pressure on your temples!

I don't know why I took a picture of this, but I like the colors. That's my grandma's purse. She's a baller. And then I changed into these clothes. For real. I looked 6 years old.

Uh... obligatory flower picture because it was in our kitchen.

In case you were wondering, "sloe" is a plant. It was the last word my cousin and I got stuck on.

Hahahha... from my Java textbook. Also from my Java textbook:

We all know what the answer to that question is.

It's 11 PM. Do you know where your children are? It's November. Do you know what you're thankful for today?

So last night I heard Yvan Rodic from Face Hunter, Liz from Late Afternoon (she works for Chictopia), and Laura from On the Racks (she works for Shop It To Me) talk at a fashion forum hosted by UC Berkeley's BARE Magazine and FAST.

(In attendance were... at least Jennie from Going West, Christina from Profresh Style, FAST model Tiffany (you are sweet! I didn't get your contact info! Email me!), Anisa from The Laugh Slut, Chandamheer from pancakeSTACKER, and Brittany from Work It, Berk. These three ladies were also supposed to have been there BUT I AM A CHICKEN AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO MEET PEOPLE SO I HAVE NO IDEA IF THEY WERE THERE BECAUSE I SUCK AT INTRODUCING MYSELF.)

I'll have photos of what I wore later (probably much later...), but for now, here are my takeaway points:

1. A big part of blogging is being extraordinary. The other part is luck.
2. Bloggers are early adopters. Not trendsetters. Because everyone (including Liz's grandma but excluding Yvan Rodic) knows who Snooki is, but not everyone knows who Rumi is. The kind of audience a blogger commands is still nothing compared to even a reality TV star, no matter how big they are on the internet.
   
3. If a man with a French accent opens his mouth and no racial slurs come out, I have already removed my pants.
   
4. Biz Stone (of Twitter) said "Creativity comes from constraint," and Liz (smartypants) said something along the same lines, about how what a blogger puts online is an edited version of real life, the nice parts, the not-wearing-cat-and-dog-hair-covered-pajamas-sitting-in-front-of-a-laptop parts, and therein lies the appeal. It's a combination of aspiration and accessibility - as in something for a reader to aspire to and relate to.
   
5. The Bay Area at large has no remarkable style, probably because of its function-over-form aesthetic.
   
6. Some street style blogs actually have product placement and staged outfits. (This blew my mind.)
7. It is often a good idea to go where things take you.

TiK ToK

Last last Friday went like this:

SAM: I'm going to go incognito today.

IMAGINARY AUDIENCE: You mean like trench coat, sunglasses, and thick Russian accent incognito?

SAM: No, like jeans and a nondescript t-shirt.

IMAGINARY AUDIENCE: We are disappoint.

SAM: Oh, look! Choosing an incognito outfit has resulted in me having a full extra ten minutes this morning! I will be a responsible student and go to class early and review the reading I read last night for the lecture today! (grabs keys and is out the door because she is going to hit the city)

SAM'S HOMEWORK: OHANA MEANS FAMILY, AND FAMILY MEANS NOBODY -

(DOOR SLAM.)

(In the historical linguistics classroom.)

SAM: Ahaha! I am so early! I will sit in the back of the classroom to leave the easily accessible seats in the front for any latecomers, and I will read ahead because I have so! Much! Time!

CLOCK: Tick tock.

K: Hey Samantha.

SAM: Hey!

K: You do your homework?

CLOCK: Tick tock.

SAM: Yep! That last problem was a beast.

K: Yeah, it was. What did they say that comma diacritic was anyway?
SAM: I forgot, but I wrote it down. Let me check!

CLOCK: Tick tock.

SAM: HOLY MOTHER OF ADVANCED TONGUE ROOT! I LEFT MY HOMEWORK AT MY APARTMENT!

K: Well you have -

CLOCK: TICK TOCK.

K: - four minutes. Do you live close enough?

SAM: I guess I do.

K: I think you should go get it. He'll just think you came in late.

SAM: Good idea.

CLOCK: LULZ!

(SAM is speed-walking back to her apartment.)

SUN: LULZ! Let me shine on you so you break a sweat!

FRESHMEN: LULZ! Let us congregate in large groups that obstruct the entire sidewalk!

TRAFFIC SIGNALS: LULZ! We're never going to change!

(SAM is a hot mess when she arrives at her apartment, slamming the door open)

SAM'S HOMEWORK: - GETS LEFT BEHIND!

SAM: HOMEWORK!

SAM'S HOMEWORK: SAM!

(A tearful reunion.)

(SAM is speed-walking back to class.)

SUN: LULZ! Let me shine on you so you break a sweat!

FRESHMEN: LULZ! Let us congregate in large groups that obstruct the entire sidewalk!

TRAFFIC SIGNALS: LULZ! We're never going to change!

(SAM arrives for her linguistics class a full twenty minutes late, sweating and causing a ruckus making her way to the back of the classroom where she left her stuff.)

PROFESSOR: Hem hem.

SAM: Professor Umbridge?
PROFESSOR: ...Who?

SAM: Oh, sorry. Yes, sir?

PROFESSOR: Wouldn't you like to turn in your homework?
SAM: OH RIGHT.

(SAM makes her way back to the front of the classroom to turn in her homework, then makes her way back to the back.)

SAM: Well that was embarrassing.

K: Haha.

SAM: Man I bet I'm the last person to show up.

(Ten minutes later, with twenty minutes of lecture left, DANIEL walks in, turns in his homework, sits down, and proceeds to blow his nose.)

CLOCK: Tick tock.

(After class.)

SAM: Dude! Why were you late for class? I left my homework at my apartment!

DANIEL: My alarm didn't go off!

SAM: Okay now I feel less dumb because you were later than I was.

DANIEL: That was really embarrassing. And I literally woke up and came here without showering or anything, so I'm all sweaty and gross.

SAM: Me too. I'm gonna go home and change.

DANIEL: Me too.

SAM: High five.

Which is why the only photographic evidence I have of that day features jewelry, which, while probably sweaty, didn't require changing:

things I am thinking right now

Young people of my generation (and anyone else who has an opinion), please respectfully disagree in the comments so I can think harder and lose more study time over this. I need opposing ideas to bounce around.

1. I think "Follow your passion" is a middle class mindset. If everyone followed their passion and tried to turn it into a career, I'm sure we wouldn't have janitors and factory workers and ... I don't know, people who castrate bulls, or whatever. I think that Mike Rowe TED speech about dirty jobs got it right. You don't just do what you like. You go where no one else is going. In that same vein, you find a problem and solve it. It's typical how-to-start-a-business thinking. Find a solution to a problem. Or find a solution better than the currently existing ones.


2. Even if janitorial work is meant to be a temporary thing, just a stepping stone on your way between greatnesses, and everyone's supposed to do it at some point to pay their dues, what if your passion isn't something that can be monetized? What if your passion is Helping poor people? You want to get paid for that? Whose money are you taking? What if your passion is eating gourmet truffles?


3. What if the U. S. collapses and I decide to move to a foreign country even though I don't speak the language and can't get a job working in that language, because there is better than here? Sound familiar? Am I supposed to work really hard and hope my kids do better? Would I be deeply unhappy?


4. And I don't think you can follow your passion unless you're in a position to do so. As in, you're financially secure enough to do so. So am I supposed to set myself up to be financially secure? Or is that not the point? Why should I spend all that time setting myself up when I am going to die? If I can't pay my bills, can I still follow my passion? Why do bills matter? People matter.


5. What if I graduated early?


6. I think I am being truthful with myself when I say that Computer Science is not something that gets me out of bed in the morning. I don't need a FutureMe email composed from three years ago to tell me that. I know I don't love it. So am I wasting my time? Or should it not matter that I don't love it? Am I missing a bigger picture here, or is this the gut feeling I should listen to? What was my gut feeling about UCLA vs. Cal? Was it the feeling of really scary opportunity and discomfort that I should have listened to, or the one that said This is something safe and familiar but different enough to make you a little nervous?


7. Me being overly analytical about this right now is normal. So maybe not every college student goes through this, but some do. And we're just a different brand of normal. A typical quarter-life crisis is supposed to occur after college graduation but when have I ever done things on time instead of early? It happens.


8. Being Asian means there has never been a separation between what my family values and what I value, because the highest value is family. So do I actually care or not? How bad can things possibly get? Sure, there's debt and hospital bills and insurance and money problems, but how scary is financial instability in the face of... a) your significant other leaving you, b) the people you love dying, c) almost being killed in a car crash, d) losing a limb, e) going blind, f) being diagnosed with cancer? Does it matter or not? It's not like these are ridiculous situations either. EVERYONE DIES. Is it more important to be uncomfortable now and stable later, or to like everything I commit to? What if I'm on the verge of completing my Computer Science degree and then get hit by a truck and am completely disfigured and paralyzed? Will I not have regretted using my time doing something I'm not that fond of?


9. But if everyone did things they liked, wouldn't everyone just be having sex all the time?


10. How do you determine what you want? Will I just know? Or will I know in hindsight?


11. Am I just being lazy? Am I afraid of working hard? NO. Crap. I do work hard. But only for things I care about. So then what?


12. I know that I said I Made A Decision about what I am at Cal for. But that was mostly to firmly plant myself in one camp of thought. And now that I'm here, all I feel is trapped. Scared. And most definitely not willing to put in the work that a Computer Science degree will require. Why should I do this when there are people who are willing to put in the work, and when there are things I am willing to put work into that other people aren't? Why should I do something I find less than easy that other people find completely easy, when there are things I find easy that other people find difficult?


13. Am I supposed to find the thing I am exceptional at and milk it for all its worth? Or solve someone else's problems? I was told that I don't seem to be that type of person. But I was told that by someone who doesn't know me very well. Shouldn't I know the answer to that myself, if I know myself so well? What if I'm indifferent to the idea? What if the first impression I leave is more accurate than the me I've constructed for myself in my mind?


14. Can't I just be a fucking tailor or cobbler or cordovan or something?


15. I pretty much fail at this whole "fashion/style blogging" thing.

[EDIT: Today, I was inadvertently alerted to the fact that "cordovan" is a type of leather. Not the person who works with the leather. Epic fail indeed.]