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| I'm outta time.
+ get published
+ ride a motorbike
+ walk the entire length of the Great Wall
+ see the Aurelis Borealis (mutilated the spelling, didn't I?)
+ street race (No. Seriously.)
+ ballroom dance
+ learn to horseback ride
+ glamour shots
+ model (just once. for fun.)
+ run a marathon for a good cause
+ sky-dive
+ scuba-dive (swim with dolphins!)
+ learn to play the erhu
+ relearn the piano/play violin
+ learn how to kick-box
+ find a guy like Leon Kennedy. LOL. Just for fun. ;)
+ go to Oxford University for my Ph.D
+ go to Japan
+ go to the Harry Potter theme park
+ meet Daughtry
+ be a secret agent for a day (RE4 style!)
+ touch a cloud
+ meet a wolf/pet one
+ design and furnish my own house
+ play house for a day (just like when I was little)
+ sing in front of a crowd
+ have lunch with J.K. Rowling
+ meet Michael Jackson [fail - passed away June 25, 2009]
+ learn the "Thriller" dance
+ design/make some of my own clothes
+ learn more martial arts and tai chi
+ learn to fence
+ sing in a choir
+ write a story/novel in Chinese
+ go on a cruise
+ shoot a gun
+ build a gingerbread house
+ try voice acting
+ beat a guy up when he breaks my heart. Just once.
+ go a day without technology (hooo boy)
+ ...and more coming, probably.
Crossed off three things! :) Thinking of more things to add to this list :)
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| This one is just for you. I hope that when you are born, you will be born to a healthy and happy family. Not to say that I don't want you now, but when everything is financially stable, and we have a proper family. It may take several years (okay, maaaaybe a little longer than that. Say, when I'm in my early 30s?), but I want to raise you properly, the best way that I can. I want to be financially independent, emotionally mature, and with a man who is suitable to be your father. But if you happen to come before then, I'll still love and cherish you, even if it feels like we're the only two people on earth--at least you'll have a couple of aunts who will spoil you to death. :) I'll probably make mistakes, but you'll always be special. Always. You will never feel alone or lonely. You'll never feel like it's just you against the world. And I promise to try to be understanding, even if I occasionally complain about how the current generation has no taste in literature. But I'll warn you now that you are not going to read Twilight. Ever. Or any piece of literature that is that low in quality. Sorry, sweetie. There's no compromise, unless you can engage your ol' mom in a stimulating and intellectual debate on why those sorts of books are worth printing and reading. ;) You're beautiful. So, so beautiful. Because you were created through the love between two people--but we'll have that conversation when you turn 11. And even if that love isn't conventional, you were still created, and that's what's important. Don't ever think that any sacrifices I made/make are in hesitation, because the minute you are conceived, you are the most important being in the world to me. I can't wait to meet you. | | |
| Frustration comes to me when I'm powerless to do anything to help the people I love. She's the smartest, most motivated person I've known since high school. She was my roommate for a year and a half--my very first roommate at university, and one of the best friends I could've ever made freshman year. When she came out to me, she said that she was nervous coming out, but not to me because she knew that I would be okay with it. She accepted me for my behind-the-times, traditional-and-old-fashioned ways, and she knew when to step in and talk to me, and when to leave me to cry alone on my bed. I hadn't seen her for a year, since she left for one semester, and I went to study abroad the other half of the year. When I got back, I realized that not only did my friends move on with their lives without me, but everything had changed. She had been sent to the hospital twice for alcohol-poisoning, and had gotten out of a couple of really horrible relationships. She went to AA to stop herself from drinking, but lately, she's been drinking a lot again, and in secret with her new girlfriend. She's still so intelligent, and motivated, but our group of friends went from intensely worried about her well-being to being worried and not quite so willing to be around her because she's drinking too much. I love her, and I want her to be able to tell us when she's drinking, but I also want to tell her that she needs to stop drinking so much because it's starting to worry me. I'm afraid that once I voice my worries to her, she'll stop telling me that she's drinking, and then I'll end up not knowing whether or not she's okay. I know that I should trust her, but she's 90 lbs, and drinking way too much for someone who is that light. And how do you trust someone to know when they have a problem, and when they're just having too much fun? I'm frustrated, and I don't know what to do. Should I tell her about my concerns and hope that she'll be open to talk about it, but risk her nodding her head but turning and drinking in secret? Or should I find another way to help her to stop drinking so much, but risk her thinking that we don't trust her judgements? | | |
| Because it'll be interesting, ten years down the road.
Dear Future Me,
Essentially, I've stolen this idea from Charlie McDonnell (charlieissocoollike on youtube, and his website: http://charliemcdonnell.com/), but his version is a youtube video, whilst mine is, obviously, a xanga entry. Apparently, the current me that is writing this letter likes to point out the obvious and likes to point out that I like pointing out the obvious...
Through watching his cute video because, yes, future me, you did have a bit of an unhealthy crush on nerdy guys like that, I've discovered that if I write this to you at this point in my life right now, it'll seem a little lame, but why not? I'd like to speculate what you'll be like in ten years time, and I'll probably write a letter to the current me, which is, the past you, ten years down the road. It's all very complicated, but I'm sure you get what I mean. And while I'm at it, I'm also sure that you're going to wince as you read through this letter because my writing is absolutely atrocious. No, don't try to make me feel better, it's true, I've accepted it, and so should you. Hopefully your own writing will be so much better, and, dare I say it, published. I'm also not afraid to say, Future Me, that if you're not published by the time you read this entry again, I'm going to smother you. How? I've no idea, but trust me, I'll find a way.
I've always told my friends jokingly (and sometimes not so jokingly) that I do not plan on getting married, or really, be in any sort of relationship as that would hinder my goals and my possible career. But it's ten years in the future now, and you should have gotten that PhD from Oxford you've always wanted (though, even if you didn't get it at Oxford University, I hope you got it from some British university. And even if you didn't, I'm still proud of you, because PhDs are hard to come by), and probably have a teaching job somewhere around the world, so now what are you doing? Are you financially stable? Are you independent? Are you in a healthy, respectful, and superduperawesomewithacherryontop relationship with an equally healthy, respectful, superduperawesomewithacherryontop man who deserves you? If you answered no to either aspects, I think you should either reevaluate yourself, or I should admit that I haven't changed much at all. And if that's the case: what in blimey have you been doing these past ten years? Get a grip on yourself, woman!
(But I won't complain if you're happy. Really. I won't. No, I'm not judging you. Stop looking at the screen like that.)
I hope that you're still in touch with some of your most closest friends (or, uh, my current closest friends?) I hope you still write letters to Katherine about philosophical bullshit that really have no answers, but are fun to write about because that's just what we do. I hope you still have Doctor Who obsession-rants with Grace, because Doctor Who will NEVER END. EVER. (If it did, don't tell me. I can't bear the thought!) I hope you still text Lindsey about bananas and monkeys because it puts a smile on your face. Well, it's either a smile or a "O_o?" face. I hope you still have nightly talks with Shannon because she's been one of the most awesome roommates ever. And I hope you've also made new friends who are positive influences on your life.
Your relationship with dad should be a good one. It has to be, because he's the one who's raised you since mom passed away. And while I'm on the subject of mom, I hope that you've finally forgiven her. None of that "yeah, I've forgiven her--oops, wait, I still really secretly hate her" crap, okay? (Don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about!) It's been twenty-five years--GET OVER IT. MOVE ON. Please take good care of dad for me. He deserves it. And if he's passed on before you get to read this letter, I hope you took care of him really well before he died. Don't cry at his funeral. He hates it when you cry. Remember everything he's taught you. Don't slouch; walk with your back straight, and your chin relaxed; stop cracking your knuckles. Don't see the world, or yourself, as something permanent or real. Things change, and if nothing is permanent, then nothing is real, but be aware of yourself, of the people around you, and breathe. Make sure you're a pious person, and that you remember every word of the 弟子规 and that you put it to action. It's not meant to be read and forgotten. It's to be memorized and done.
The past ten years (for you) should be filled with less regrets and more perspectives. And I'll do my part. I'll try not to disappoint you or dad. And in turn, I hope you look back on your life and see that what I have now isn't so bad.
Love,
Rochelle
2010
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| You won't bring me down. You may be setting me back, but you're only fueling my determination.
I'm keeping all rejection slips from all publishers from now on. I will look through them at least once a week and then I'll write until my brain starts to fry. No one can undermine the determination of a writer. Especially if that writer is determined to make something of herself!
I'll show you. You'll accept me eventually. If not, I'll try to get published somewhere else. And then you'll regret turning me down because you just couldn't recognize my potential. It'll be too late by then.
I may be delicate; I may be new at all this, but I'll make you see what a huge mistake you made.
This is my determination. This is my goal.
I'll win sooner or later.
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