Final Week Pt.2. Give Me A Moment.

Check My Other Posts!

Final Week Pt.1. On the Edge.

Final Week Pt.3. Before I Leave.

Main Plots Starts Here:

That’s it?? I guess I am done with my Junior year yesterday when the output is printing exactly like the requirements in the PDF, and after some false alarms, I celebrated with ChatGPT and Claude 3.7. On my bed. Laptop on leg. __ in hand. No screaming. No tears. Just me breathing in and out, trying to feel the moment. Just a chill girl.

Meloncholy Mondy

Called Jiayi for a long time, booking a ticket for a MIDDLE seat for a 6-hour flight, with an upgrade requiring 90 dollars. Capitalists or robbers? My legs will survive.

Spammed OS’s OH for 2 hours. That Korean lady was scary bro. She kept smiling and laughing. When I asked for points back from my 3 quizzes, I couldn’t tell if she was judging. Seeing me shamelessly asking points back for a quiz taken 2 months ago for the most absurd reasons, Ryan started doing the same, and so did Cam.

“You two…” The Korean woman laughed again, and I did too. Ryan asked if he could get points back for the “Dining Philosopher” diagram. We all took a look at his paper and burst into uncontrollable laughter. Tears are coming out crazy. I can’t go to OH with Ryan anymore. Whenever I see him, I would be thinking about the random-ass ways we finish our assignments and start laughing like a maniac.

The Dining Philosophers should be looking like this:

My philosophers
(Not sure correct though)
For those interested in the problem, please visit: A Wiki Wiki explanation

But Ryan drew sth like this:

Ryan's philosophers
CS student or hidden artist?

I can see a lot of creativity and struggles going on. When I asked for the inspiration of that masterpiece, Ryan said it is because my friend “with the big watter bottle” drew like this, and he thought he was bad af. After all these shenanigans in COSI 10A, 12B, 29B, 102A, 103A, and 131A, I guess we redefined the term comrade.

Recovering from hysterical laughter, Cam showed his masterpiece as well:

Cam's philosophers
He argues that we can still see the “erased line”. (Shown in dots)

Dropped my UCLA jacket into the water bucket for Buddy (the professor’s dog) & secured 9/300 points back from the Korean legend, I returned to Volen lobby like a champ, and awkwardly greeted Delfino.

Went to a journalism senior event with Chaser, only to leave my wallet in Skyline afterwards. Some freshman DMed me on Instagram saying I left my wallet. Thanks, Daniel L.

My mind is all over the place. I found out that to be eligible for CPT, I need to register for a summer INT (intership) course, which is just me submitting paragraphs about how I self-developed during the internship and how I can “demonstrate my learning” once every 2 weeks.

You know what I have really learned? I learned that this kind of superficial mascara doesn’t stop after I graduated from high school. I learned that I have to pay 750 dollars for this baddy. I learned that I might be poorer after working. I learned that I still need to stare at VS Code and wonder about my life choices even after OS, Java 12B, and Antonella 21A.

I might also learn how to kiss sombody’s ass (not literally. I am not that freaky); how to pretend that I am an expert; how to pacakage my poor experiences. Hey, necessary life skills no? You don't see them in textbooks.

Tearful Tuesday and Beyond

Emailed this lady; emailed that gentleman… After registering for CPT and confirming with James and Pierce about my OS homework output, I guess I am officially done. Done with my Junior year. This crazy, chaotic, nostalgic, lonely, burnt-out, but very fruitful junior year. Eyes are constantly red. The veins kept crawling across my eyeballs. Sometimes the world seems to be filtered through distortion. Wish it is because of 🍃, but it is actually because of me constantly staring at my screen, mostly a screen of red error messages. So many sleepless nights, sometimes due to childish sentiments about Shanghai and some men, and sometimes due to ... just because. I am so scared of it, and I’d rather immerse myself in reality-escaping.

Chandler Bing Bing
Look at that smile!

So I DJ and make some lame jokes. I like Chandler from Friends. Who wrote this character? Some scriptwriters who graduated from Brandeis — Brandeis. It is again Brandeis. I see the connection here. I decided to come here by myself, and I have found Chandler. I found him. He is everywhere. He was there when I lost that deuce point. He was there when that guy wanted me to play Ragaeton in the AEPi basement. He was there when I was making numerous Brandeis Tennis posts, only to be ghosted by Pauri, who does not want any tiara photos. He was there when I was crying randomly about some exams and some ridiculous requests given to me by names I don’t want to mention. He was there when I instantly started laughing when seeing that array question in the OS exam. He was there when I felt like I was split into pieces, trying to make everything perfect on the surface.

OS Final Array Question
That question I was laughing about.

When the shuttle drove past Gosman, I realized that I hadn’t been working out or doing anything athletic for 2 solid weeks. I saw Gosman, and I instantly became mentally nauseous. I don’t want to play any tennis. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to touch it. I don’t want to think about anything related to it -- the latest updates, my victory rate this season, or my summer training. No. Just stop. I don’t want anything to do with it.

But why did I still pack up the rackets and gears in my dorm? Why did I still wrap up my tennis shoes in my suitcase? I was scared again. I was scared that without tennis, I would be absolutely nothing. I know it is a naive sentiment, but my worst fear is going back to those 4 months when I was sick and could only watch my friends playing tennis and cursing on their double faults. It is such a privilege to be tortured on court, such a privilege to have those sweet worries about getting ready for the next match. Am I born a competitor? I don’t know. I have been playing tennis for so many years, and never have I ever hated it this much. I need a fking break. Give me a break. Every loss reminds me of what a failure I was. I cannot dominate any valuable competitions, even after the effort I put in during summer and winter. I am playing 3/4 singles and 2 doubles, but I want to go to the NCAA too. I want to let my parents know I made them proud and let all the US colleges know that a Chinese girl has slayed at some point. But I don’t think I have the mental capacity to do that, maybe not the actual level either. I am tired of getting frustrated, tired of talking big shit and not leveling up to them. If you want something, go get it. Maybe I don’t want it as much. All I want now is to make this simple website jump to the right blog posts through the hyperlink when I deploy it on Azure, but Azure doesn’t fking want it. Microsoft, I have given you enough subscription money. Why can’t you just let me be?

That is enough ranting, I guess. This is a relatively bs post, and I appreciate anyone who has read this far. I cannot afford a therapist, so I figured I would e-cure myself. Didn't mean to spread any negativity. Warning: only more to come.

Recap from Last Week -->

Final Week Pt.1. On the Edge.

1 Week Later -->

Final Week Pt.3. Before I Leave.

🫡🫡🫡

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