Can't wait to get away this winter break! Seeing family and friends. Visiting new attractions and returning to familiar grounds. Exchanging stories from the year and creating new one's for the next. I can't wait!
It was recently brought to my attention that I tend to incorporate lines into my photography. I wonder what this says about who I am? Bear with me while I do a self analysis of my personality as it relates to photography style.
1. I'm straight. I first realized this when I found an old Playboy magazine in my parents bathroom and decided I liked what I saw. That must have been in the 2nd or 3rd grade. Hi Dad! LOL
2. Okay seriously now, I'm studying to be an engineer and I'm slightly OCD when it comes to calculations and I need things to be neat. What's neater than a straight line? Two straight lines, perhaps? y=mx+b anyone? Aww yea.
3. I'm easy going and easy to get along with (at least I'd like to think so) and lines evoke a sense of minimalism and simplicity that anyone can appreciate in such a dynamic world. We like to see curves in our women but for guys, it's about the lines. From receding hair lines :( to those outlining the abdominals :)
4. I like knowing where I'm going. This applies to small things like Google mapping an unfamiliar route (and memorizing the turns instead of printing it out because I'm a guy who only admits he needs directions within the confines of his computer) or where I want to be in life. The shortest distance between two points is a ... you betcha.
5. I've never understood nonlinear analysis both in school and (yo momma) out of school (girls for example :P) Although I'm sometimes guilty of not doing so, I like being straight forward and to the point. I can also appreciate when someone can be frank and tell me what they truly think about something/someone/me.
It seems like a bunch of inconveniences and annoyances were dumped on me today. Like a rain cloud is following me or something! So I'm going to do what any normal person would do: complain to Xanga.
I can't update my club's website because we didn't renew with the Academic Computing and Media Services. People in the club are on my case about keeping it updated and crap and meanwhile, I need authorization from at least 3 other principal members. Fail.
I made a stupid mistake on my exam today. I used half of the tributary area by accident in calculating the live load reduction factor to find the ultimate load that the column should be able to hold. It's mumbo jumbo to you people but it's the dumbest mistake because its literally, finding the area of a square and apparently, my brain couldn't process that. After studying for hours and preparing for the most obscure cases, I choke up on something so simple! Fail Fail.
Last year, I filed a petition to for my college to accept credit from a Philosophy class I took at CC even though I took it pass/no pass. The "rules" say that classes taken for Humanities requirement must be taken for a letter grade even though 1. CC classes do not affect GPA and 2. I actually got an A in the class and have an email from the professor to prove it. It would be too convenient for them to approve I was straight up rejected bythe Provost himself. Long story short, he cut a deal with me: Take Hum 4 and 5 at UCSD and we'll count that summer class. So much for "rules"! I'm going to see my advisor tomorrow because there's a conflict with my engineering classes and Hum 4 (which is offered only once a year) Thus, I will not be able to graduate and it will hinder my ability to be hired in this already sub par economy and will cause indefinite financial hardship for many years. Fail Fail Fail.
I'm so done with school. I want to get out and work. And if I can't find work, hell, I'll join military or something. In a couple of years, I'll be looking back and I probably won't even remember all of this stress! What's the point? I'm burning out, guys.
After all of the stress and clutter that came with preparing for the EIT exam, my room became quite a pigsty. So this past weekend, my Halloween consisted of a major cleaning (in addition to studying and homeworking). Here's the final result
And for kicks, I decided to document the process. Why not, right?
Yeah, my room is pretty much an Ikea showroom. Don't hate :)
"I think you better come pick up your son, he's sick."
"What do you mean sick? Like a stomach ache or something?"
"Well, no.."
Last night, my youngest brother was rushed to the hospital for alcohol poisoning. I was at my fellowship rally when I heard the news via text from my siblings. At first I was shocked, and then kind of disappointed, but ultimately, worried and curious. Shocked because I've been hearing all the good news about how my brother is trying harder in school and how I always see him stressing via twitter about how he has so much homework and exams to prepare for. Disappointed because I knew he was better than this but then I became worried and curious because I knew that there had to be some sort of explanation. Indeed there was.
My dad is in his pajamas getting ready to go to sleep. It's around 10:30 and the family had plans to wake up at 4AM to visit colleges the next morning. My mom gets off the phone and tells my dad to change. Motherly instincts already kicking in. Something's not right. They pick up my sister from her party and head over to pick up my brother. He's stumbling and disoriented. He throws up all over himself while in the car. He's scared. He's embarrassed. He's not himself. He's 16.
I'm at my fellowship's Friday night rally, learning about Christian apologetics but at the back of my mind, I'm really thinking about my brother. I keep texting my sister to see if there are any updates but nothing. I feel helpless so far away from home. I want to know what's going on. I start thinking about how this could have happened and how I need to be a better influence for him and all of my siblings.
The family drives to the hospital and the staff puts him in a wheel chair because he can't even support his own weight. They get him in a room and put him in one of those hospital gowns. Stripped naked and pierced with IV needles to rehydrate his body. He's still heavily intoxicated and so he can't help but let out his feelings. Things that may not have otherwise come out. Amidst his apologies and tears, he tells my mother, in confidence, that he's upset with the friends that has pressured him into doing this. That he doesn't know who his real friends are now. That he hates how white the town is and how it's sometimes hard to fit in. That he wants to move to California.
And now, I see that this wasn't just about having a BAC of 0.24 (3 times the legal driving limit and half way towards potential coma and death), but a more deeply rooted developmental issue. My mother, God bless her, knows exactly what to tell him. She reassures him that she's not mad. She tells him that he needs to stand up for himself and become stronger. She tells him that he's too nice and too trust worthy and in the real world, people will take advantage of that. She tells him that he's grounded because she needs to make sure he makes the right decisions in the future. She tells him that he needs to focus on his grades because they will be his ticket out of this town. She tells him how blood is thicker than water and how tonight it really came through. Mother, father and sister all came to pick him up and took care of him. His brother, in school in Pennsylvania, made arrangements with a friend to give the family a tour of the school since they were going to miss the morning appointment. Blood will always be thicker than water. What kind of friends let you get to that point? What kind of friends pressure you into binge drinking knowing that you have never drank like that before? What kind of friends are so cowardly and immature that instead of calling your sister or parents, they wait for another parent to make the call?
My mother slept the night at the hospital while my father returned home at 2:30 to get some rest for the long drive. He was released from the hospital with a BAC of .18 but at least able to walk out on his own. At 8:30, mother and son return home for a quick sleep. At 11:30, he wakes up and goes upstairs to give his mother a hug and to tell her that he's sorry, yet again.
This will clearly be a learning experience for him. The doctors kept reemphasizing the fact that a few drinks later, he could have been unconscious or in a coma. Although hearing all of that at 16 is scary, it is necessary. His friends pressured him but he made the final choice to take the (still unknown) drink(s). He has a lot of growing up to do but I'm confident that he will make it. He knows the consequences of poor choices. He knows his family will always be there for him. I love him.
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