As part of a deal that we made, MF is getting me to play tennis and is going to teach me. (I know the basic gist of the game, but I'm a pretty bad player.) I practically dug my heels into this one, but I demonstrated my commitment to play by purchasing a racquet yesterday afternoon, and not a cheap one, either.

I wonder what my deal is with exercise and sports. It shouldn't be this hard to try something, but it has been for me. Maybe it's because of some childhood thing. I used to get picked second-to-last (or close to it) for sports pretty frequently in elementary school. But even back then, I had tons of fun with sports when I played. Now I'm just too self-conscious.

Well, just gotta face the fear, right? I'm hoping that I find a cute tennis outfit to encourage me. :P

It's that time of year again. The time of year in which suicide rates are highest. (Did you know that? The highest suicide rates are in May while the lowest rates are in December.) But I'll get to this in a second.

One of my professors is a pretty strict behaviorist. He maintains that all problems can be attributed to either "too much of something" or "not enough of something," frequently both. Bored? Too much time on your hands, not enough to do. Fight too much? Maybe it's too much yelling and not enough listening. Want a boyfriend/girlfriend but don't have one? Maybe you're not meeting enough people. Or you're too focused on someone else but not on yourself. Or even vice versa. Etc. It sounds rather basic, but it's a useful concept for the problem-solving part when you're trying to figure out what to do.

The same professor today says that a lot of the milder mental health issues--anger mismanagement, panic attacks, bulimia, depression, for example--can be attributed to lack of assertion. People are spending too much time ruminating over something but aren't spending enough time problem-solving. Or, more specifically, too much time is spent ruminating instead of just asking for what you need.

This is where assertion comes in.

Maybe I've just been getting tired of datinandrelatin. It's just the same old story, really: somebody is getting mixed messages about something and they want to know what their love interest/friend/family member is really thinking. And almost every comment to these posts are, "Talk to them." But lots of times, the poster feels scared about talking to them. Sometimes it's legitimate (e.g. abusive situations), but most of the time, people will respond to reasonable requests. And you won't always get what you want, but you can certainly get it more often when you ask than when you just sit around and hope things will change for the better by itself.

Sometimes you get what you need when you ask for it in a reasonable way. Sometimes you don't get it, but then you're forced to ask yourself why you're in a situation where you're not getting what you need.

Here's an example. Once, I was upset at MF for not spending enough time with me. He had just started law school, and we were 3 timezones apart. I felt really guilty about asking him to call me more often or spend more time with me on the phone, because I had heard stories about the first year of law school and how it can be a relationship killer. I felt bad about trying to exert more pressure on him. But the longer I put off talking to him about it, the more frustrated and upset I got. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, so I sat down with him on a night where he did have time, and I told him that things needed to change. He's been a lot better about setting aside talk time with me almost every night now, and on the especially busy nights, he's been able to let me know, and I have a much easier time letting him have that space than I used to. Thanks to asking and some other important factors, it worked out great. But it wouldn't have happened if I didn't ask.

But what would've happened if he said he couldn't give me that extra time? I had a pre-set answer to that, too. "If I'm going to have a boyfriend, I need him to be able to spend this minimum amount of time with me. If you can't do this now, get back to me when you're done with law school if you want to work things out." I wouldn't have gotten him to spend more time with me then, but I would've taken myself out of a stuck situation, waiting for some guy who just wasn't going to give me what I needed. And honestly, would I really want to have stayed with someone who didn't even want to make some time for me, even just a bit? Nah, pass, kthxbye.

Oh wait, I said I would get to the suicide rate thing, right? Well, I was gonna lead that into depression. The paradox of (clinical) depression is that the person starts to isolate themselves from the things and people they used to like. And it's really challenging to get out of that isolation; when you haven't been social in so long, it's damn scary to try and reconnect with people you haven't kept up with. But that social reconnection is exactly what you need. And you have to ask for it. It might take several attempts before you click with someone, but without even attempting, 1 out of 20 attempts is still so much better than 0 out of 0.

Ultimately, you gotta start by deciding that you deserve better. Once you get that down, it's easier to build up the courage to ask.

I know haven't said much about counseling publicly here. The biggest reason is really because school and traineeship have been huge stress factors, so when I get the chance to blog, I spend that time focusing on non-counseling-related things as a respite. But I'd like to take the time now to say a couple of things about counseling.

First, I had some serious misconceptions about what counseling would be like or what it was about when I first started my grad program. One big misconception was that therapists are advice-givers. While they certainly can give advice, practitioners are supposed to abstain from advice-giving because the goal ultimately is to have the client self-manage. (How to get clients to manage themselves depends on your theoretical orientation, of course.) Besides, just because someone gives you advice doesn't mean you're gonna take it, no matter how well-intentioned or how much empirical support there is for some decisions. Which is fine, because life paths go differently for everyone.

So what are they supposed to do? I asked. Therapists are really just here to listen and help you get through the process of decision-making, feeling, etc. Once you make some kind of decision to change something in your life, therapists can help train you behaviorally to achieve your goal, whether it's to communicate more assertively or to manage addiction, anger, stress.

For therapists, there's the issue of having to overcome therapy's stigma as "the thing for crazy people" or "dysfunctional families." I think we're all a little dysfunctional in some ways, and the kinds of techniques available for remedying our little dysfunctions are not difficult to learn... they just take time to practice and apply.

Well, I guess that assumes that you're not severely dysfunctional. But as my supervisor likes to say, I am more interested in working with ordinary people experiencing extraordinary events.

It took a long time for me to accept the idea that we can't "fix" people. Rationally, it makes sense, but I needed time to buy into the idea, that there will be many times when I will want to help magically make problems disappear for clients, but the best I can do is to just be there for them. And it's not easy to be present with the client when they're going through a really difficult time, because while I'm there with them, I end up suffering along with them as well, if only a fraction of what they're suffering through.

During the times I am able to help, I'm almost always surprised at how it all works out. A good example of this is the use of rapport and the therapeutic relationship. For a kid who's got issues with stable adult/caregiver relationships, having a caring, stable adult whom they see on a regular basis gives them:
1) self-worth, seeing that someone else cares about their success,
2) a model of healthy relationships for the future,
3) the space in which to air out their grievances, even if it seems as though nothing can be done about it.

The third point there sometimes--well, more than just sometimes--makes me feel as though I'm not actually doing anything with the client. But then I think about my own experience as a client and how valuable that 50-minute period is with someone who's actively listening to me. And I've learned that, generally, the more you're able to talk about a painful experience, the more the pain loses its power over you. Sort of like a very simple kind of desensitization, really.

Anyway! This entry got longer than I intended it to be. But I'll just sum up the rest by saying this: I had a very big moment of career identity crisis in mid-January, and the events from last week and this week has made that dissipate somewhat. There's still a big question mark looming in the future about where I'll be or what I'll do after graduation, but I hope I still stay connected to mental health, whether as a volunteer or as a clinician.

Like most people, I consider myself relatively open-minded, but not so much in the political/"liberal" sense. The common misconception is that being "open-minded" means that you're tolerant of gays, that you think drug addicts can reform, and maybe that you're willing to have sex with multiple partners (sometimes all at the same time).

But I believe that being open-minded really just means that you're tolerant of views different from your own. And really, I think I've accepted a lot of other people's views without adopting them. I think monogamy's the best system we've got, but if people engage in polygamy, it's fine with me. I'm an ex-Catholic and don't think there's an afterlife, but if other people think I'm going to hell, I'm not too bothered by it. I don't agree with China's censorship of their media, but I adapted and worked around it while I was living in Beijing. (I hope that sentence doesn't block my LJ from friends in Beijing!) I work within the system; I don't expect others to change for me, so I either change, or I accept things as they are.

This mindset has worked for me for a long time. But I suspect that it's kept me from defending the things I really ought to defend instead of just sitting back complacently. I hate rudeness, but I tolerate even that, and when I don't, I just leave the room. Maybe part of it is just a matter of developing some backbone, but maybe it's really just me not caring enough, not thinking those things are worth fighting about. If other people feel they're worth fighting about, then fine, let them fight about it.

In other words, I feel like I ought to care, and I do. But just not enough. And somehow, this bothers me.

Sometimes I feel like I need to talk about something, and I have friends I could talk about it with. But right now, I just can't bring myself to do it.

I think that occasionally, I reveal more to strangers than to close friends, because to a stranger, whatever I tell them can be seen as simply a story. A realistic story, but a story that may be ficticious. I mean, for all you know, this entire LJ is fictitious and has been since 2001.

Having someone I know listen to me is sometimes scary for that reason. Those people know how real it is.

But I guess the slightly scarier thought is that someone very close to me is listening to me tell them very personal things about myself and is only hearing them as "interesting stories" I'm telling.

Well, on the other hand, I guess I wouldn't mind being an interesting story, either. :)

This is closely related to my other post about comfort during tragedy.

If in the future, I face a deep tragedy and you don't know what to do:

- If we're close and we know each other in person, I'd like to be held while I cry.
- If we're not so close, but we know each other in person, I'd prefer not to cry in front of you. Don't mention anything unless I bring it up.
- If we know each other only online (LJ or otherwise), a brief comment is enough.

That's all. Just for your own future reference.

If you've been keeping up with my China blog, you'll know that I've just returned from my HK trip. I've updated about the trip in three installments there, so if you're interested, you can read up on it here: [1] [2] [3]. I also have a Kodak Gallery up with more photos from my trip. There will be more (and better) photos from Dan's camera, so I'll keep you posted on that.

Anyway, so that's that.

In other news, I went out with some coworkers last night, and G made some very inappropriate, sexual remarks about me and another coworker that made me angry. Being the only female present didn't help, though I've never had a problem with that before. And I was angry, but I hid my frustration behind nervous laughter. The others also laughed nervously in that, "Oh my God, I can't believe he just said that," kind of way.

Perhaps I should've been more upfront with my feelings and stuck up for myself, but I was so aggravated that I said nothing; I wanted to remain in control of my emotions, and telling him off would've removed a lot of control that I had. I justified it in that moment by telling myself, "It's not worth commenting on," but really, if it's bothered me this long, then doesn't it matter enough to address it with G? It was a dumb joke, but it was just straight disrespectful to me and to the other coworker (who was present at the time as well). And I had respected G as a colleague and casual friend; I still respect him as a colleague, but I probably will not seek him out at the end of our contracts anymore.

Well, I best bugger off for the time being. It's already mid-afternoon, and I haven't done anything substantial with my day yet. :T

I've thought a lot about how much I censor myself.  When I first came to Beijing, Thai mentioned that the first impression he got of me was that I was so quiet.  I'm sure he wasn't alone in thinking this.

I eventually started opening up to people.  When I introduced myself to our new boss today, I said that I was the "quiet one," and Julia said, "Don't believe it for a second!"

I used to believe that being so quiet protected me.  I didn't care so much if it meant I was missing out on opportunities; I figured that if I really wanted something, I'd find a way to make it happen.  I did that with going to Berkeley, I did that with moving to San Jose, and I did that with visiting China.  What I wasn't seeing was how it barred me from my own thoughts, and it got to the point where I couldn't see what I wanted anymore.

I can't even feel open with my LJ.  Sure, there are private entries, and I write plenty of those, but I often try to talk myself out of undesirable thoughts and forget how I really feel about things. 

I pretend that I'm over Dominic, that I don't care that he has a new girlfriend, but I see reminders of him every so often--like a Japanese sportsbike or the title of a Cantonese movie--and I feel waves of resentment and sadness that linger.  A part of me genuinely wants to contact him again, just to try and put some questions to rest, give myself peace of mind, even make peace with Dominic.  But I had willingly promised MF (and myself) that I would not contact him again.  This is the penance I must pay.  So I pretend Dominic means nothing to me.

I pretend that I'm mostly fine with an LDR with a 16-hour timezone difference, but I'm devastated by the lack of human touch.  I playfully sock guys on the arms, and I pretend it's a viable substitute for hugs and snuggles from back home.  It's not.  When Chris hugged me because I was feeling awful from cramps, I didn't pretend I felt better; I actually did feel better, but I pretended I didn't need hugs anymore, and I walked away.

I pretend that I'm busy with activities in China--well, perhaps I'm not pretending so hard about that since there really is lots to do--but I pretend that that's the reason why I email and call MF less and less.  But actually, I've been pretty hurt by some things he's said to me, and I just don't want to add more fuel to the fire, afraid that I'll say the wrong things.  I remember the happiest times I've spent with him, and I've ended up idealizing him perhaps a bit too much, forgetting sometimes why I was emailing less and calling less. 

I pretend that I haven't edited the content of this entry before posting it.  But we all know the answer to this one.

So I found out a bit of news earlier today, which I wrote about in my Love Life filter (which you can request to be added or removed from in the comments).  I was feeling pretty bummed when I shouldn't have felt bummed, but the comments I received lifted my mood considerably.

It made me think about complaints I've read throughout LJ that people often rant to elicit fluff comments for attention or validation.  What gets ignored are the LJers that genuinely lose perspective about what's important or good about their life, and they have LJ friends who remind them of it.  Yes, sometimes it will be fluff.  But positive comments are necessary to balance out the alternative, which is unrelenting self-negativity.  No one needs that. 

It's important, of course, to not indulge in "fluff" either.  But I think if you choose the right LJ friends, they'll help you out in this regard as well.  They'll offer you realistic, constructive criticism that will bring you back down to earth.

After not touching my personal statement for two weeks now, I'm finally able to get back to working on it. 

I know I shouldn't be this surprised, but I am.  I lost a lot of perspective those last few weeks in the States, panicking over what an admissions committee would want while simultaneously worried about putting things in order, visiting friends before I left.

When I arrived in Beijing, I had to make a lot of introductions.  It wasn't until I had a heart-to-heart talk with Sarah that I remembered why I wanted to go into counseling.

Sarah was a psych major.  I was happy to learn that she also wanted to go into counseling, and that we both felt similarly about psychology and sociology.

I also received a message from a former student.  We had become friends during the time I tutored her, so I was really happy she kept in touch and updated me with a higher math grade. 

A combination of both these things had me thinking about my personal statement again, and not just for the admissions committee but for me as well.  Still, what good will it do if I can't find time to sit down and work on it...?

James told me recently that he usually stops by my LJ to see how I'm doing, but I usually don't post a lot of personal stuff publicly.  So to sort of rectify that...

I'm okay.  I was more scared about leaving a month ago than I am today.  I feel excited about China, more ready for it (though I don't think I'll ever be completely ready).  I am concerned about what happens when I get back from there.  Will I be in LA, saving money by staying with my parents?  Will I be at USF?  Will I try to wing it out in the South Bay again, like last year?

I feel as though my problem is procrastinating on my future, that OMG IF IT'S NOT THE TYPE OF ADULT LIFE I WANT, I GOTTA DO SOMETHING ELSE.

But really, I think I'd be okay in a large variety of paths I'd take, just as long as I take one.

You know that trust game they play at retreats and things like that?  The game where you fall backwards and rely on someone to catch you?

MF and I were playing that game Friday while we were hanging out at the Gilroy outlets.  "Here," he said.  "Fall backwards, and I'll catch you."

"I don't like that game," I said.

"Why not?  Don't you trust me?" he said.

So to show him that I did, I fell backwards into him.  But like many people, I have a difficult time with trust.  I fell back but bent my body forward right before he caught me.

"What?  Here, try it again.  Trust me."

And so I did.  I fell backwards again until I stopped bending my body forward. 

"Good!" he said with a certain satisfaction.  "Now you catch me."

"What?  But I'm so much smaller than you!  It's going to be hard to catch you."

"Phuong, how am I going to trust you if you don't trust yourself?"

So we switched, and I tried to catch him.  As anticipated, he was difficult to catch because of our relative weights and strengths.  He wasn't even falling with his entire weight, and I could barely catch him.

Still, as I discovered that moment, when you care about someone enough, you'll do what you can not to let them fall to the ground, regardless of "difficult circumstances."  Trust is more than about possessing ability; its complexity lies in efforts and intentions, in whether it's self-reliance or external reliance.

I've never felt as though I have a cause to fight for.

I don't consider myself religious, but sometimes I wonder if not having a cause means I don't have a soul.  To be sure, there are so many good causes one could support in the world, and trying to support them all might spread oneself too thin, emotionally, financially, physically.  But I haven't come across one that's dear to my heart, and so I end up with no cause at all.

It must be nice to have a "mission," to have a sense of purpose to your life.  It gives you an identity.

Seems silly to have an identity-crisis when you're only 22. 

I fear sometimes that my attempts to reach out to the world will mean nothing to me, that I am pursuing certain activities only to avoid the idea that I am not satisfied with myself.  Do I really want to go to China?  Do I really want to go to grad school for counseling?  Perhaps I am only doing these things just to tell people, "Yes, I have a plan for my life, and it's what I really, truly want."

I am of the opinion that it's better to keep moving forward with these half-hearted plans than to remain still and listless.  Perhaps what I truly fear is being still.  That's probably why I don't have a cause.

I saved an icon Demmie had once.  It said, "Life is not about finding yourself; it's about creating yourself."  Who do I want to be?  Is the person I want to become someone that I can't be?

Ah-ha.  The real problem is that I don't know what I want!  How can you "create yourself" if you don't know what you want to create?  And how can you find yourself if you don't know what you're looking for? 

...

I've noticed that in the past month, I've started doing more activities that fall under the list of "Things I've always wanted to do."  I know it's spurred by the idea that I won't get to do any of those things in a few weeks.  I've been enjoying my life a little more, smiling more, laughing more.  I stay out later and sleep less (except for Sundays).  I let myself drink more Dr. Pepper. 

How sad it is that we need "limited time"--to be on the brink of departure--to allow ourselves to savor the happiest moments of our lives.

I guess China will be great, then.  I'll constantly be thinking, "OMG, I have only six months!" and living life there like I won't get to see it again.

I cleaned out my images folder this morning.  It feels surprisingly good, like I'm actually "cleaner."

I keep my images in several folders.  A few are categorized by something specific (e.g. webcomics, icons, camera phone pics, etc.), but most of them are simply My Photos x, x being a number.  It's very loosely sorted by time period, so the earliest pictures are in My Photo 1.  It's kind of eerie to see how image content evolves over the years.

My Photo 1: Pictures of senior year of high school, maybe a couple from junior year and some from freshman year of college.  Lots of photos of my baby sisters, Yu-Hung, a couple of close friends that are still very close today.

My Photo 2: By this time, I was starting a relationship with Dominic.  I think that's what prompted me to create this folder in the first place.  He's a photographer, and so there were LOTS of pictures in this folder just chronicling the first six months together.  This folder was cleaned up the most and now contains only the most memorable photos, half of them being of puffkins and hamsters.

My Photo 3: The photos in here are from the same time as Photo 2, so I think I was just keeping content separate.  This folder's mostly family photos, Hamster, and puffkins.  I think I'll move things in this folder to #2.

My Photo 4: Photos from my time at Cal.  Surprisingly very few photos for a year and a half, I suppose.  Content wasn't separated here.  Many family/friends photos, but only a handful that featured Dominic.  Priorities were beginning to shift.  Example: a few were of my company Christmas dinner, and I took Will instead of Dominic.  He decided to take on a job on that night, and I decided that Will would have enjoyed the dinner more.

My Photo 5: Very few photos as well, probably will be combined with #6.  These are photos from my year in San Jose.  I finally got into a photo with his family, but he and I took turns taking the family photo... an omen?  Lots of my family photos here, and a couple of the pets around my house.

My Photo 6:  More SJ-residence photos, but happier ones.  I had friends visit me from LA, so many photos here are of them.  The only hint of MF in this folder is a souvenir ukulele he got for me in Hawaii.  (He hates getting his photo taken, but he's more about the experience than chronicling it.)

I expect my next folder will be of China, so family and friends from California will be glaringly absent.  It's about time for something new and scary/exciting, anyway. :)

Thank you for your patience in waiting for our decision regarding the November intake for our Teach in China program.

We have selected you to be a part of our teaching team beginning in February and are looking forward to welcoming you to Beijing.  Please would you confirm that you can accept this placement so that we can proceed with processing your contract.

All of a sudden, I'm torn.  I have spent almost a year building a life for myself in San Jose.  I'm due for a raise in January (just for having stayed there a whole year), and I've grown devoted to my students, made new friends here, and am even seeing someone I've grown incredibly attached to.  I just started finding out where all the good places to eat are.  I just started seeing more of my LA friends and family again due to the holidays.

And yet, I've been talking about visiting China for such a long time.  I can't just back out of this now.

I don't like it when the Universe plays this game of Truth or Dare with me.  It's my turn, and it's "Dare."  "I dare you to leave everything you know behind and live in China for six months," said the Universe.  And I gotta take the dare.

You know that wish list that was "designed" to make me a better person?  What better way to get all my bases covered than by living in another country for 6 months?

It's like my upcoming drive to Tahoe today.  I know I gotta battle through snow and get myself some tire chains before I leave.  And I have to do it alone; my family is coming up from LA tomorrow.  The drive is frightening; it's an unfamiliar place in unfamiliar conditions.

Maybe if I can make my drive later today, I can make it okay in China, too.  But shit, this is scary to think about.

I've noticed that once every few weeks, I will fall into a depression, and the source remains elusive.  Typically, I end up chalking it up to relationship troubles.

Now I see the truth.  It is PMS.

* Disclaimer: No menstruating female wants to admit any of her emotional issues to PMS.  Indeed, writing off a problem as stemming solely from PMS not only makes her appear irrational, but it also minimizes the actual problem (or potential problem).  So please, to all my male readers, please note that this entry is NOT a permission slip to dismiss your females' problems. 

Anyway, I am pretty sure it's PMS.  The moodiness comes with every hormone surge, and it comes the week before my period without fail, lasting for about a week.  I become depressed suddenly without understanding why, and I attribute it to relationship problems, because relationships have been the one constant in my life that's been around as long as my PMS troubles have been.  One minute, I will suddenly care about why MF has not called me yet, and the next minute, I will suddenly care only for tacos.  ("What boyfriend?  My only boyfriend will be the next guy to buy me tacos!") 

This phenomenon drives me batshit sometimes, and I assume it drives my boyfriends even more batshit, too.  Lord knows why they all put up with it.  I'm guessing that maybe I have it more under control than I think. 

I consider this a step in awareness, and with awareness comes the important question of, "What do I do with this information?" 

I suggested to MF that we completely avoid each other during "Phuong's PMS weeks," but he dismissed this and said he wanted to hang out this week.  What a brave soul.

Funny how Zoe-Zoe always catches me at the right moment.

I went back into the house to look for my bank card.  It was where I suspected it was, in the back right pocket of my jeans from the night before.  Zoe-Zoe heard me enter, and she began to follow me into the hallway.  But I closed the door and made my way back to the front door.  She looked a bit confused at first, then sat to look at me curiously.

I felt better with her around, so I went back into my room.  She followed me in and sat with me on the bed, purring as I scratched her head.

I swear, it's like we have warmer, softer laps when we're sad.  Why else would she catch me when I'm sad?

It's quite a stuggle some days.  I'm an introvert, and when I'm around other people, even when I'm alone in a public place, it drains my energy.  I become revitalized again when I come home and sit alone in my room, and I'll often stay up late at night from the newfound energy.

When I'm melancholy, however, there's an internal struggle.  Although being around people can be draining, sometimes, it's also good for the soul.  It's almost like being around the right people drains my negative energy, and it replaces it with positive vibes. 

But even when I'm sad, it's difficult to pull myself out of my room. 

Brent called me today, and I didn't pick up at first, left it to the voicemail.  I just wanted to be a homebody today.  But I remembered feeling that way the weekend before (and several weekends before that), and dragging my butt to the billiards hall/Mexican restaurant to meet up with him made me glad to have done so each time.  So I called Brent back.

Maybe that's why I like playing pool.  It has an unusual neutralizing effect on me.  For the few hours I'm playing eight-ball or nine-ball, the rest of my life becomes suspended for a moment, like I'm taking a mini-vacation from the world and all that's left is the pool table.

If there is one thing my friends and family know about me, it is this: I hate onions.

No one knows where my hatred for onions comes from.  I chalk it up to some traumatizing moment in my childhood where I simply can't remember what happened, only that I walked away hating onions forever.  And I can't really pinpoint what it is about onions that I hate so much.  I sometimes tell people it's the taste or texture, but I like onion-flavored things and enjoy similarly-textured food items.

I also know this onion-hate is not only silly but also a huge hurdle keeping me from enjoying great foods.  My friends and family are still shocked that I can't bring myself to enjoy grilled onions or onion rings.  You should watch me try to eat fresh salsa sometime.

Recently, I've been taking baby steps to get over my onion-negativity.  It started off simply enough, with a delicious onion bagel.  I tried having someone's animal-style fries from In-n-Out, but that didn't work so well.  I can eat non-fresh salsa with onions, but the fresh stuff leaves me retching.  I have onion flakes for cooking things with, but should I need fresh onions for whatever dish, I still chop them up in huge slices so I can pick them out after I cook.

Baby steps. 

I gotta find a way to be brave.  I think perhaps onion rings will be the next step.  I mean, the batter and the dip should obscure the onion a bit, right?

Lately, all I've wanted to do is run away. 

Before, it made sense, because I was running away from home.  Now that I've moved out of my parents' house, I don't understand exactly what I'm trying to run away from.

I suspect that this is the real reason why I applied to WLE's Teach in China program.

In the event that I don't get into their November program, I am considering asking for a leave of absence from my jobs and volunteering to help with Katrina relief efforts.  In Louisiana or Texas.  There is some amount of personal connection with this event as I have family from Louisiana (most of whom are now safe in Houston, thankfully).  But I think I'm still trying to run away from something by trying to get there, too.  Is it the search for personal fulfillment and meaning?  Is it the thought of doing something worthwhile?

Well, if I don't get anything from the experience, I can at least take solace in the idea that I'd help out a lot of hurricane victims.

BTW, if you know of any on-the-ground volunteer opportunities, please let me know. It'd help if I had some kind of medical/healthcare expertise, but all I'm armed with is a willingness to help. I'm a quick and highly-trainable learner, too.