Square is spelled T-H-A-N-H

Yes, odd time to be awake. Well not quite considering my bedtimes the past few days. I'm currently slumped on the couch in my suite with book called "Acting, and how to be good at it" and skimming through poetry online. Yes, I'm boring. Yes, I could quite possibly be the Asian incarnation of my two majors (and yes, the 'Asian" in that wasn't entirely necessary).

I've noticed that I've saying "whatever you want" or "you pick" or "your choice" lately. Have I lost my confidence in my decisions? I'm usually such a decisive person. One of those annoying know-it-alls schooled in the Socratic method, ready to stand by their opinions to the death even if they're wrong. This doesn't look as great in this font, hehe.

We need to talk. So say you get a cold sore. It develops before it is visible, merely a feeling: twinge, itch, pain, however it varies for you. You can pretend it's nothing at first, but it just gets worse and worse until it is grotesque and blatantly glaring to everyone, especially you. What can you do then? Apply medicine to get rid of it, of course. However, this may take a long time. The bigger the cold sore the longer. Now this doesn't mean you can't do other things such as eating or even talking. You just have to be aware that it is still there until it is indeed completely healed, though there is the possibility that another cold sore pops up; however, chances are it won't be as severe.


1. Shock or Disbelief
2. Denial
3. Bargaining
4. Guilt
5. Anger
6. Depression
7. Acceptance and Hope

I wanted to post this poem I read in AP English about a smart girl who is in her apartment on a Sunday morning doing the NY Times cross word puzzle when she hears the name of her lover on the news. And she doesn't know if it's her lover or his father because they have the same name. Finally she gets to the hospital and sees her lover's father and knows that it was her "name name" that was killed. BUT I couldn't find it, so here is what I consider my favorite poem.

The Waking by Theodore Roethke

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me, so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.