Incoming headache. I feel queasy again. Suddenly George Santayana's quote "Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it." drifts into my mind. I think I will lie down soon.
Cathy and I decided to go out for dinner. I led her to Smart Alec's. She decided to order garlic fries. Wrong move. I ate about three and the taste still haunts me. No more garlic for this picky eater.
Yet now in my dorm, I feel strangely nauseous. Pressure around my head...
Earlier today, Tram dragged me along to meet up with Shirley and Kim. I had met Shirley before through Linda and Lin. Of all types of food, they decided to dine at the Japanese restaurant, the same restaurant that possibly caused my earlier illness. Because my money supply was running low, Tram was nice enough to pay for the meager lunch I ordered (danke mucho Tram!)--6 California rolls.
Oddly enough, two hours after lunch, I felt strangely nauseous again. At Wheeler Hall, I had to grab on the handrail on the stairs to steady myself. Ew. That food! :p

[Written on two pieces of paper while waiting outside the hall of college writing]

"You're so quiet," Shirley said.
Indeed, I was during the entire tirade in the Japanese restaurant. I could blame it on four hours of sleep, my slipping grades (omg, B's!!!), my thoughts fading to another place. "I have social anxiety," I said in response. "I am too aware of myself--to self-conscious."
Shirley stared blankly at me, "Social anxiety?"
"Tram!" I said. "Explain!"
And so she did, reiterating the material that I had presented during the summer. It's odd though. I talk more if it's just one other person and especially mroe if I really have a desire to converse. But when I am placed in a group (+ other sources of discomfort), I become the ultimate hermit crab. It's self-defeating when I discover to think about the consequences of every action I do. Whether each action would change a person's judgment of me. Oh and not to add, somehow my mind becomes unusually blank in large groups. What's up with that?
I felt quite sheepish and foolish in my English class. Wendy, my English partner, and I were supposed to present. We had split the class into two sides to discuss whether Maxine Hong Kingston placed stereotypes of Chinese women in her story. My side of the class argued the for side. Yet after I explained the process to the group, I become accidentally quiet. It pained me and the more I thought about it, the more quiet I became. It was one of those impossible-to-get-rid-of parasites...that refused to let go.
Life is almost like a tv show to me. I would rather watch and observe. Yet there are times when I want to be in the characters' shoes--the hero's sparkling charisma, the villain's dark evil. However...maybe it's just easier to be myself.

Silences are somewhat deceiving. Tram and I went to meet up with Hien and her friend. I decided that I needed a nap. As I left Bear's Lair, I saw Lin, Linda, and Tony. I had seen them only minutes earlier in the Student Learning Center. Yet as I walked past them, it was almost like walking through a freezer. We took no notice of each other. So the day of confrontations still had not arrived. In the library, I seeked out a comfy corner. I could only find a small cushioned chair placed right next to a floor fan. Eschelmann Library was creepily silent. It almost seemed as if something was about to burst. I slid down in my seat and opened a critique on Asian American literate in my lap. I rested my head to the side and promptly fell asleep.
When I woke up (yes another nightmare pulled me again out of lala land), I saw Hien staring at me. I laughed silently. (Remember it was a silent library except for the squeaks of shoes coming in from the heavy rain) She had arrived when I was dozing. How nice!

My psychology professor's shirt today said in white letters on a black background, "The first thing we do, we kill the lawyers." The phrase didn't seem catchy enough to be put on a shirt. But what could he possible meant by that. Today he lectured about Freud--the id, the superego, the ego. Quite simply, I am suffering from a major clash between the id and the superego. The ego is having a major tough time compromising between both.

I broke the throngs of silence and called home. I wished my mother a Happy Birthday and then tried to discuss some business I wanted to get across. Is Man coming this weekend? When? What is your opinion of Vegas? LA? (the response here was an urgent Chinese remark declaring negation) But but but! (If you insist, there's nothing we can do.) Major guilt trip. What a neat trick.

[End of the writing on two pieces of paper]

Funny, I feel a little better after typing straight for a near ten minutes. My head feels much clearer. Still, I think I am going to lie down. No roommates are back in my room. Jen is out on a sorority thingie. Simran went home. (Sigh, all the way in LA, if I can go with her!) Kia...probably studying. And me, wasting time using the comp.
I am going to drink some water. The phone rings. I must pick it up. Dead silence on the other end.