When I was eleven years old, I started sounding like an eighteen year old. Now that I am eighteen...hmmm, don't I just sound like an eleven year old? With all my whining? Especially my incredible dislike of all kinds of food. I think that's more suitable for a two year old though.
The only thing I miss about being young is having less homework and less pressure to actually critically think. Yet that's all that I miss. I look forward to the future. Especially the moment when my parents finally let me go. Yet I bet that is the time that I feel nostalgic all over again.

Yesterday at the csa meeting I kept repeating the fact that I couldn't miss homecooked food. I just couldn't. I doubt that I'll miss it either if I am more than 300 miles away. More reflection. Even after eating five days of DC food straight, I can barely sense a longing for home. I remember coming here on the first day back in August. As I walked down my suite, everything felt like a prison cell. However, once I was inside my own room, that whole thinking collapsed and I found my place. My side of the room barely looks like my room at home except for the constant imbalance of messiness. Yes, there's still stuff everywhere...and yes my bed is still unmade. Perhaps the only thing I miss about home is the freedom of space...and the freedom to disturb anyone without any anxiety. I do like disturbing my sister 24/7 when I am at home. It's fun, you know.

Tram made me edit Hien's 8 page essay on the relation of home and childhood. (You didn't think I was going to digress a lot today, did you?) So it just made me think. Hien had earlier interviewed me about my ideal home and my childhood place. Being me, I kept saying that my childhood was quite horrid. But in reality, supposedly it wasn't. In her awkward English, her first sentence was, "For Jennifer Ng, I feel sad for her childhood." Really there wasn't anything to be sad about. I was scared of everything then. Scared of people. Scared of food. Scared of clowns. Scared of jump rope. Everything. It's amazing that I am still here today and I didn't suffer from major anxiety attacks.

The microwave beeps in the background. I actually ate today. I left my room at 11 and tried to forage for food, but to my dismay, the DC didn't open until 11:30 for lunch. Sigh, and I have lived here for more than three months already. (Doink, today's December 1st. I signed up for my fourth course astrobiology first thing in the morning.)

I think it was this time one whole year ago that I thought my life was getting better. Now I think my life has gotten better...and will progress farther than that.