the train to Nopesville.

The workload of this semester has been so terrifying that my ignoring-that-undesirable-things-exist defense mechanism is in full gear. I’m now home for spring break with three papers to write, an acting performance to prepare for, and a presentation to begin for another acting course. Of course I haven’t started any of those. Here’s a catch-up journal entry instead!


Four classes. Cognitive Psychology. Intro to Moral Philosophy. Intro to Linguistics. Research Methods in Developmental Psychology.

I magically got A-minuses in three of the four classes and only got a B-plus in Linguistics because that final exam was nightmarish. This did wonders to my previously atrocious GPA from failing 3 classes!

…not that it’s a great number now but at least it’s not a 2-point-something anymore.

The research methods course was utter hell from September to October because we essentially condensed a semester of material into those two months. But then the rest of the time was entirely focused on our research so I guess I wouldn’t mind keeping the structure of the course the way it is.

My research partner and I examined how preschoolers label ambiguous gender, and although our hypothesis wasn’t supported, our findings indicate that growing up in a gendered society may be an ass even to preschoolers. Since we had to design and conduct our own psych studies, this course really provided some much needed vocational direction for me. I loveeee doing research!

Looks like I’ll be slaving away in grad school for that Ph.D. until I’m thirty.

I partnered with the person I had a little crush on throughout spring of my sophomore year. <3 I have a thing for girls with pixie cuts (particularly if the girls are feminine) and girls with pixie cuts on my campus tend to be openly lesbian, so I like to say I’m attracted to the obvious-lesbian look. But this girl, Coen, was way butch, not at all femme in appearance, and yet I was so smitten and giggled to myself whenever she apologized profusely trying to squeeze past my knees to get back to her seat in our stats class. She didn’t even know my name.

The moment Coen said that her preferred pronoun was “they” during our self-introductions in the research methods course, I realized that Coen isn’t lesbian at all because Coen has identified as male since he was sixteen.

Now Coen uses a more masculine name and goes by “he.” Even though he’s transgender and isn’t gay, he still describes himself as a “raging homo” and seems dismayed by the thought that I may never be with a woman (due to my squirming discomfort toward inserting body parts into other body parts).

I’m just amazed that my former crush has somehow gone from basically a stranger, to a research partner, to a friend. I always figured this kind of thing only happened in books!

He’s still my crush though. (: But we’re both in committed 2-year-long relationships so shhhhhh.


Five classes. Kill me. Personality Psychology. Systems of Psychotherapy. Intro to Acting. Voice and Movement for Actors. Some course in the South Asia Studies department in which they fuse religion and art and spirituality and I’m not looking forward to completing this distribution requirement.

It certainly didn’t help that too many of my winter days walking back from class looked like this:


So far:

  • Fuckkkkkkk I never considered doing clinical psych before but this psychotherapy class is wonderful and makes me want to go to med school to be a psychiatrist. (Which is not gonna happen because the MCAT will slaughter me.) Apparently I’m a natural psychoanalyst!
  • Fun fact: Cartoon portrayals of psychotherapists doing nothing but asking, “So how does that make you feel?” is talking about only one particular type of therapy: emotion focused therapy. The more you know. (:
  • I. Hate. Reading. About. Art. The religion part is intriguing but I don’t know how people can ever enjoy, say, art history courses.
  • This personality psych professor is the first psych professor I’ve encountered at my school who sucks balls. Great man, horrid instructor. I HATE THIS CLASS BECAUSE OF HIM.
  • I cannot act. But I can improve. This acting class requires us to perform a short scene every week with partners and then we are publicly critiqued. It’s not as painful as it sounds. But it takes up too many hours of my week every week.
  • The voice and movement class nicely complements the intro to acting course by focusing purely on the technical, physical aspects of acting. I spend the entirety of the class making a fool of myself.
  • Nearly all my friends are abroad and it makes me sad and think of this book.

At the moment I’m incredibly bored at home  and yet I refuse to touch any of my school work. There’s only six more days left of this mediocrity! (Both a good and bad thing.)

In the morning I’m starting my first-ever intense exercise experiment. Last summer I lost maybe 12 pounds doing TurboFire but I slowly gained 4 of that back through my insatiable sweet tooth throughout the year. No one noticed that I look any bigger, though I think I look huge. And Manny confirmed that my tummy’s grown a bit compared to when I was 4 pounds lighter. )’: SO. I’m gonna eat basically nothing and destroy my body with physical activity for 5 days.

I’m skeptical about what this regimen claims to do but it’s still happening. The perpetual hunger part of this experiment may consume me. I’ll write down my little thoughts each day in individual posts to motivate myself to push through with it. I have to do homework at the same time ugghhhhhh.

Body dysmorphia, you’re an asshat.

Until next time,

~ Mimi :*

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