why, hello there, friends.

{via}*

I think we should just ignore the whole "everyone-has-their-own-areas-of-expertise" thing and use this like The Notebook. *grins* Cause I have not seen all y'all all summer {'cept one ickle girlikins for about three hours this past week} and I  want to know how you guys are doing! Seriously. People. No communication for the past two-plus months? *shakes head*

I will own up to the fact that I haven't really been online much either this summer, so my apologies. *puppy eyes* Forgive me?

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Currently for me: {aka summer in a nutshell}

On books and stuff

I've always wanted to make an official list of all my books so that I could:

1. keep an accurate tally on the books I've read and bought;

2. have an accurate list to give to people if they want to borrow, and to have an accurate list of who's borrowed what from me; and

3. gloat about how many books I have and how my taste is superior to yours.

Well, I finally got around to doing it! Here's the result:

The Library

I think it's a good way not only to keep track of what you have, but also to keep track of what you can lend. As Christians, an easy way to love a brother or sister is to share with them--and when it comes to books, what a wealth of knowledge we have to share!

I encourage you guys to consider making a list--maybe tacking it on to mine as a separate spreadsheet, so I can see what I can steal from you the next time I see you.

The Princess in the Castle

This past weekend was Spring Retreat for one Mickeyla & I.

Retreats are always interesting, in that you get to learn so much and hang out with your class, goof off late into the night and wake up with the sun to avoid dealing with foggy mirrors and puddly sink areas in the communal bathrooms.

The joys of below 40 {possibly 30} degree temperatures in SoCal and ants the size of roly-polies, snow late at night that doesn't stick and is gone by morning, scalding hot chocolate in small styrofoam cups and Costco muffins for breakfast.

Me, actually. Someone else's camera, though.

The number of cameras attempting to capture every photographable moment was amazing to see. I've learned over the years that there is really no point in me trying to do that since there's always someone who's got the shot. And especially since I don't have a fancy-schmancy camera, they probably got a clearer, brighter, more beautiful shot than I could've caught with my trusty, little camera.

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Bananagrams done right.

One of the things I learned this particular Spring Retreat that I just had to share has to do with guy-girl relations, specifically all this secret vocabulary that the guys in GOC have that the girls aren't aware of at all. See if you can follow this analogy.


"There's a princess in a fortress. The princess obviously stands for the girl of interest, the fortress is any and all obstacles that either she puts in the way or that just happen to be issues that need addressing before the guy can get the girl. There are four ways to get to her: using a battering ram, digging a moat with a spoon, being a ninja, or posing as a violin teacher. 

The Battering Ram is obvious in his intentions. You can spot him a mile away and everyone knows that he's interested. He's relentless and persistent and eventually gets past all obstacles to get the girl.

The Spoon-Digger is much more subtle, taking his time and carefully and methodically wearing away at the obstacles in his path. He's intentional and quietly gets past her defenses without her knowing that's what he's even doing.

The Ninja appears out of nowhere, vaulting over the walls and surprising everyone. Basically, if she asks 'Who are you?'-- this can work out for some though, as can be seen by those couples whom you never saw coming {Who got together? I didn't even know they knew each other... *O.o*}.

The Violin Teacher is someone who was invited in-- never having to deal with the obstacles that kept out others. She's unsuspecting until one day, she realizes she really likes him. This could be that guy the girl never considers as possible significant-other-material, until she suddenly does."


These categories aren't exclusive and possibly not all the methods that could be used, but these are the ones that the GOC guys use and keep secret from the girls. A perk of being friends with a lot of guys is that, at some point, someone will explain all this secret lingo to me. *grins* And goodness, is it hilarious.

Relevant fact about me: 


Way, way more excited for berry season starting than the semester ending.

zomg. 


The disappointing thing about berries in New York is that most of them get shipped in from California anyways, so they have that shipped-across-the-nation taste and the carbon guilt is kind of overbearing. (As a general rule, fruit-and-other-things-that-bruise (namely, tomatoes) are shipped green/relatively unripe to prevent bruising, then gassed with ethylene to force ripeness. That's why most supermarket fruits-and-such, especially out of season ones that are shipped in from somewhere else, taste like wax. They're not naturally ripened. Eat fruit in season, kids! It tastes better and it's better for the earth.)


BUT. I am home for two weeks and a half weeks. I am back in the land of sun-ripened berries and eternal sunshine, and sometimes (especially in December, when its' sub-freezing in Ithaca and California is a balmy 65 °F) I question why I left. 


There are a lot of little things that are different on the East Coast. I probably don't have the best sample size of experiences either, since the people (college students) I interact with tend to be from all over the place anyways. But there's definitely a pervasive culture that I've picked up. I guess the easiest way to describe it is that people on the East Coast take themselves more seriously. Not in a necessarily bad or good way, just in a different way. You know how there's a lot of weird in NorCal? Maybe a dude with electric blue hair, or the guy on a Segway, hordes of hipster kids who dropped out of college to do their own social media Web 2.0 startup? Not so much in New York. And it sort of goes without saying that the chill sun-and-surf attitude of SoCal is out of the question when you can only get away with wearing Rainbows a third of the year. People in California can get away with being irreverent. I mean, that attitude practically defines Hollywood and Silicon Valley. Do stuff. Do it differently. People on the East Coast seem to feel like they're part of some sort of legacy that they can't break. 


Anyways. Hi. I'm going to say other things in the future, hopefully more fun and less serious than I just did in this post, and probably involving food.


Right. Catch you...later. 


[Jim Moriarty singsong: No you won't!]


-Deborah

Birthday Reflections: Twenty-One is Plenty-Fun

The friend-of-the-feminine-persuasion gave me googly eyes for my birthday, among other things.

I turned tventy-one (gasp!) last week, but I haven't had much time to document the events. I probably won't put everything here, to preserve the mystery and to prevent boredom, so here goes:

I spent the day before my birthday hanging out with my brother, who drove down from the Irvine area to celebrate. We spent the time:

• Introducing him to the friend-that's-a-girl, whom he had yet to meet.
• Applying seven dollars worth of those non-permanent tattoos you get for kids for their birthday party. We went to Walmart and picked up a box of "girl rocker" tattoos. About three square-feet worth of butterflies, hearts, and little stylized monikers like "Punk Rocker Chick." Managed to cover a large swath of my back and both arms from shoulder to wrist.
• Having dinner and fruitful conversation about life and the church.

Then I got kidnapped.

A few tips on getting kidnapped:

• If your significant other calls you at any time near your birthday and asks to be walked home, your Spidey-senses should be tingling. On the other hand, you're a jerk if you say no. Proceed with caution.
• Expect to be tackled. The trick is to try to land as flat as possible--if you extend your arms to brace yourself, you have high odds of breaking your wrists.
• When they tie your wrists, tighten your muscles and turn your wrists so that your thumbs are against each other. Afterwards, you can relax your muscles and rotate your hands palm-to-palm to prevent rope chafing and create slack to escape (not that you should try to escape, but when they finally deliver you to the target location and everyone yells "Surprise!" you can slip your bonds effortlessly, thus impressing the ladies.).
• Struggle enough so that your friends have fun...and don't suspect that you are simply biding your time until your daring escape.

Had my first beer ever while watching Aladdin. Personally, I'm still partial to milk tea, but maybe it's just a matter of time?

Spent the rest of the evening scrubbing vainly at my arms, because I realized I was going to be serving on worship team in front of the entire church the next morning. Tip: if you're going to apply loads of tattoos, don't put them anywhere where you have significant amounts of hair. I think my arms are far less hirsute than they were two weeks ago.

Sunday evening I was taken to a classy bar to continue exploring the wonders of alcohol. If you ever go drinking with people, choose people who

1. you trust to care for your well-being, and
2. are good conversationalists. I'm pretty sure the majority of the fun comes from having deep and revealing talks with people who usually have more inhibitions.

Also, don't do anything stupid with your phone while inebriated, even if only mildly.

Ended the evening when the lady friend sent me a package--a shoebox containing

• three kinds of tape
• wooden skewers
• paper clips
• a ball of string
• post-its
• two kinds of markers
• 75 self-adhesive googly eyes
• Band-aids (for me)
• a note

All in all, probably one of the best birthdays to date.

(Other swag included:

•  A real man-wallet from my parents. Leather. Manly-looking. Also full of money and thoughtful notes from Mom, Dad, and the little sister.
• Shadow of the Almighty, by Elisabeth Elliot. A biography of Jim Elliot. About one-third through so far--it's very good.
• Android Karenina from SamJ (of this blog!). My bookshelf is now 3% classier.
• Boba from Tea Station.)

[insert pithy statement about life here]

College is what you make it.

Royce Hall, UCLA

I'm so excited!

High school seniors are starting to send in their SIRs {statements of intent to register} and we oldsters, who are several grade-generations above the choosing-a-college madness, are just learning via Facebook who is going where next year.

So far, I know at least two girls from our high school {congrats, Grace & Anna!} are coming to join Michaela and I at UCLA and I couldn't be more thrilled-- they're both amazingly awesome and I adore them to pieces, so getting the chance to see them start college is really exciting.

I guess I've always wondered, how did you guys decide on a college after receiving your offers? And if you could go back and choose again, would you stick with your choice?

Personally, I think my decision was based mostly on the fact that I knew that UCLA had a great Communications program, it's far enough away from home to let me be somewhat independent without being completely disconnected with my parents, and my cousin, whom I admire like crazy, went here and graduated with a Comm degree.

Process of elimination was key in finalizing where I wanted to go though-- and don't take the following observations personally because these were just my thoughts as I was in the midst of making a decision back then:

+ Not UC Irvine because when we visited the campus, it really felt like our high school on a larger scale. Lots of Asians. And I was afraid that I would coast instead of really challenging myself and pushing my boundaries. I felt too comfortable.

+ Not UC Davis because... well, actually, just because. {That's literally how far I thought that through as a senior in high school}. Thinking back, it could have also had something to do with the fact that I wasn't interested in any of the majors Davis specializes in {you know, cows & agriculture}.

+ Either UCSD or UCLA. Because I knew awesome people who graduated from either university and really liked the feel of both their campuses and reputations.

After visiting all the SoCal UCs over spring break senior year with the parentals, the choice was a lot easier. Something about walking onto a campus and simultaneously getting a sense of rightness and calm and excitement should hint to you that you're probably in the right spot.

If I had a chance to choose again, I'm pretty sure I'd pick UCLA every time. Mayhaps consider a different major, but not a different school entirely. As crazy as it can get and as tiring as it is walking uphill both ways to class and dorms/apartments, I wouldn't choose to give it up. I love it.

I think what's most important to remember, though, for all the people who aren't getting the chance to go to their first choice school is that college is what you make it. And that may sound cheesy, but it's completely true. You're the one who decides whether or not to join clubs and organizations in order to get involved. You're the one who decides whether or not to strike up a conversation with a random stranger in class who just might end up being one of your closest friends in college. You're the one who decides to go to office hours so that you can better understand the concept from lecture and thus do better on the test. College is all you, so don't worry if you have no clear preference for which one you want to attend or are having to go to one that wasn't even in your top three choices, but due to the reduction in number of acceptances that are going out, is suddenly your only option.

You will be fine.

We believe in you.

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Sidenote: Yes! First post, done! No awkwardness, right? Mission accomplished. Welcome to We Are The Bestest and we're so glad you're visiting us! Enjoy!