“Suddenly, I feel like a fist is clenching my fish and every muscle in my body is constricted.”

This sentence was tucked away in my post about insomnia. I have no idea what word I meant to write there… it was 7 am in the morning, I had just spent the past 9 hours reading ancient Chinese philosophical cannons… but I guess I was thinking about fish.

I must be prophetic, because the next day, my friend asked me if I could take care of her fish over the weekend while she visits her perfect boyfriend (that lucky bitch). The job isn’t too complicated: turn on and off the heater at appropriate times of the day, feed them twice a day (not more to avoid eutrophication), and add more water if any evaporates. Although every pet I’ve ever owned had a shorter lifespan than average (I don’t think coincidentally), I think I can handle four days of fish.

It’s a powerful feeling to have ten beings whose livelihoods completely depend on me. Every time I approach the tank, all ten swim up towards the glass, expectantly staring at me with those eyes that never close; and then I get this giddy feeling inside of me, like I hold the fate for whether they live or die, but I’m going to be a nice fuzzy caring person and choose to feed them.

A lot of self-help blogs will tell you to help others to find happiness. We all know why, so I’m not going to talk about that. Rather, I am going to talk about the pitfalls about caring too much.

Helping others is fundamentally about power dynamics. You can only help others if you hold more power than they do. We help them, because they are too powerless to help themselves. The reason we get that warm fuzzy feeling inside after helping others isn’t because deep down inside, we are good people, but rather because it gives us self-validation, while establishing the powerlessness of the other. Sometimes the people we try to help don’t even want our help, yet we help them anyway because we think we know better than they do about what is best for them. In the meantime, we impose our values and philosophies onto another who doesn’t necessarily share those same beliefs. (Think proselytizers, IMF, World Bank, even Peace Corps).

Ever notice that when self-help advocates helping others, the ultimate purpose is to help yourself? We spend one day volunteering, and come back feeling all good about ourselves. Not to mention, we let everyone around use know about what a good person we are, and it looks great on our resume and applications.
Last night I had a conversation with a good friend who exclaimed to me her frustration with having to show law schools that she cared by volunteering with an NGO. When was the last time you volunteered somewhere and didn’t put it on your resume?

In the meantime, what kind of improvement have we made in the lives of those who received our assistance? What kind of sustainable, significant difference have we effected, other than the reaffirmation of their inferiority and the encouragement of their reliance on charity?

In the end, who really gains from your good will?

I am not advocating that we should not help anyone. I just hope that the next time you help someone, examine your own motivations – and I mean really question them. If you come up with a conclusion that you don’t like that much, don’t blame yourself, we are all only humans (read: self-interested economical beings) afterall. The fact that you’ve acknowledged your motivations already puts you one level above all the other fuzzy-hearted people.

Since I am waiting for my HIV counseling appointment to start, I think I will take the opportunity to come through on what I wrote in my about page, which is that I love to talk about sex, especially how to make your sex life rockin’ awesome. (And what great timing to prepare for Valentine’s Day!)

There are so many dimensions to sex, that I could devote an entire blog to it and never finish talking about it. Today, I want to just scratch the surface and map out the different topics in sexuality, and in future blogs will go into more depth about sub-topics. However, I need your input to know which topics you want to know more about. Also, there is not just one way of thinking and I don’t have all the answers. Sex is only fun to talk about when it is a discussion; so even though I know some of this can get very embarrassing and personal, I encourage you to post and share your thoughts, opinions, stories, whatever!

First, what adjectives would I ascribe to sex? Here’s a list off of the top of my head, and I would really love to hear what adjectives you can come up with!

Sex can be…
Delicious, fun, hot, stress-relieving, addicting, adventurous, awkward, painful, scary, romantic, tiring, intimate, new…

It’s how you design your sex life that determines whether you come up with the good adjectives or the bad ones. And I urge you to avoid the bad ones.

Sex is fundamentally about how individuals feel about their bodies. Trust me, unless you feel comfortable in your body, you will not feel great in bed. How can you make anyone else appreciate your body if you can’t appreciate it yourself?

Which segues me into the next topic: masturbation. This is a great way to explore your body and know what pleases you. Once you find that out, then you can tell your partner and not waste countless nights trying to get him/her to guess at it. Trust me, your partner will be greatly relieved and you will feel great! Win-win situation.

Sexuality is not heteronormative. People are attracted to all sorts of people. I mean, people are sexy. Next time you talk to someone about sex, try not to assume that sex is only between men and women. I personally have a theory about a continuum of bisexuality: all people are neither hetero nor homosexual, but rather fall on a spectrum of bisexuality. It just depends whether you fall at 90% straight or 90% homosexual. I have yet to meet anyone who is 100% only attracted to a certain gender. More on this theory later.

Sex is fun, but not without its risks. The choice to be sexually active comes with responsibilities to protect both you and your partner. Safe sex does not have to come at the cost of pleasure, and can actually be sexy!

What is the role of sex education? Sex education is very broad and starts as soon as we are born. We are our own best teachers about sex. Often I believe that children are the best sexual beings, because they behave without any moral or social biases.

So those are some of the topics I can think of to discuss when it comes to sex. If I missed a topic that you want to hear more about, just let me know in the comments. Everyone have a happy, sexy, and safe Valentine’s Day Weekend!

That’s what we call the phenomenon of stuck-up rich private school students too soaked up with their own petty lives to connect and immerse themselves in the outside world. Constantly complaining about how stressed we are and how many deadlines we have, all the while trying to squeeze sympathy from our classmates; we know this sympathy to be false, but still allow ourselves to feel satisfied at the reception of this acknowledgment of our superiority.

Why do I call it superiority? I’m sure we are familiar with the correct response to a girl who asks if she is fat when she clearly is not. And I’m sure we all know that this girl is just a low-level attention whore who wants to draw attention to her body while gaining affirmation of her physique. In the same way, the stressed out student who complains is really saying: look, I am so much cooler than you because I can handle all these classes, run to so many club meetings, and aww, don’t you pity me for being such an overachiever?

When everyone does it, the effect multiplies. The lunch conversation becomes a competition to see who has more exams this week. Does the following conversation sound familiar to you?

“I have two exams back to back on the same day”
“I have three exams on one day”
“I have three exams and a ten page paper due the same day”

I will be the first to admit that I am not innocent of the severe castigation I have brought upon my fellow students. Just last night, I had the following facebook wall chat with a dorm-mate:

Me: This night sucks balls.
Him: I stayed up till 4 writing a paper
Me: I think I win, I stayed up till 7

Yay! Do I get a small badge to pin proudly on my chest that says “only slept 3 hours last night” so everyone can drop some change in the sympathy jar?

Would. Everyone. Just. Stop. Complaining.

I get it. You’re stressed. You’re over-committed. You haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep for one year. Here’s some news for you: no one actually cares, and those who pretend to care only want your sympathy back – you scratch my back I’ll scratch yours. Hey, it’s all well and good if the shallow exchange of falsehood is mutual, but soon you’ll realize that when you’ve surrounded yourself with relationships based on smoke, in the end when you reach through the smoke, your hand will fall through and all you’ll grasp is thin air.

Every morning, the first rays of sunlight to reach Stanford land on Hoover Tower, the iconographic concrete imposed on the middle of campus. Two hundred research fellows distributed over thirty flights of stairs, yet I never see a single one coming in or out. As I look back on my school from a distance, all I can see is a huge Ivory Tower.

How do we break free from this bubble? I’m not exactly sure myself. When one has lived inside the bubble for so long, it becomes hard to imagine life outside. Yet in the meantime, we are all suffocating on our own foul breath. I can only offer two strategies I have found to help, but if you have any good suggestions please leave them in the comments!

- Read the news everyday both domestic and international. When you learn about the lives of others in your own country, you realize that people out there are just trying to make a living and raise your kids, and your dreams of saving the world don’t matter to any of them. Keeping up to date with international events reminds you that our lifestyle is not the only way of life. And sometimes, the catastrophes of the world give you some perspective to realize that your B+ on that midterm is not the worst thing that could happen.

I started reading the news obsessively to prepare for a scholarship interview. Although I didn’t receive the scholarship, the habit of reading the news was one valuable asset I gained from the experience. I make CNN my homepage, so even if I don’t have time to read the news carefully, I at least glance at the headlines. However, I’ve gotten so addicted to the news that now I surf CNN instead of facebook to procrastinate.

- Talk to people outside of school. Especially those who are from a different socioeconomic background than you. As upper middle class well educated Americans, we often only interact with people from the same class. The social ability to interact with others was simply never developed.

I once went on a blind date with someone from a less elite school. Try as I might, it was impossible for me to talk to him without sounding condescending. I would either dumb the conversation down, or if we talked about more intellectual topics, I didn’t expect him to give a very coherent response. Another time, I had entered a beauty pageant (just for kicks) and was the only Asian contestant in a pool full of blondes. During the on-stage spontaneous question, they were asked about affirmative action, to which they responded “I think it is always best to act in a positive and assertive manner”. So yes, I know it can be hard for us UMCWEA (Upper Middle Class Well Educated Americans – pronounced Um-Kwee–Yah) to connect with others.

The most important thing is to throw away all your predispositions. List them right now so that you recognize them and can thus reject them: they aren’t as smart as you are, they are only interested in drinking and drugs, they will end up in a menial job, etc. After you’ve written them down, crumple them into a ball and throw it away. Now allow your blank slate of a mind (tabula rasa) to inquire into their life.

Practice talking wherever you go. Talk to the homeless guys that you usually step over in front of the high end restaurants, the barber as he/she cuts your hair, even the delivery boy who smiles awkwardly and says to you in broken English, “Hello! Annie’s Delivery!”. People ask me all the time how it is that I have such interesting adventures, and I think it originates from fact that I do not shy away from talking to those outside of my normal social sphere.

Every person is a fascinating story, and you want to fill in the details.

It is 6:25 AM. I think now is an appropriate time for me to write about sleep and procrastination. Forgive me if my writing becomes incomprehensible..

College students never have good sleeping habits, but mine are the worst. Generally I have a hard time falling asleep, but during times of stress I become an insomniac. Lying in bed, unable to fall asleep, one’s thoughts tend to run the gamut of possibilities: memories good and bad, dreams and worries for the future, plans for the next day, crazy ideas, sex fantasies, but the one that I tend to turn most to is the failure of my life. I guess I am like an electron who’s natural energy state is that of negative thoughts. During the day I am pretty good at forcing myself to think positively, but when night casts her spell, my natural pessimism takes over. I kick myself for not having taken a sleeping pill earlier, but decide it’s too late to do so now. Every so often, I take a look at the clock, calculate how many more hours I have to sleep if I were to fall asleep then and there, think about how early I have to wake up the next day for class, and then get super stressed out, exacerbating the problem. Then the panic attack kicks in; I start to notice my heart beating faster, my neck muscles tensing up. Suddenly, I feel like a fist is clenching my fish and every muscle in my body is constricted. I start taking quick, shallow breaths. I look at the clock again, and kick myself harder for not taking the sleeping pill the first time I kicked myself. Later, I will kick myself again for this instance. And eventually I fall asleep after wasting six hours lying in bed, don’t wake up in time for class, and the cycle starts over again the next day.

Two weeks ago, I fixed my sleeping schedule by taking sleeping pills around midnight and forcing myself to wake up at 8 no matter what happened. After a week, I could get to sleep by myself around midnight without any aid, and wake up on time too! However, it’s hard as a college student to have a “normal” sleep schedule. You miss out on parties, social activities, and late night bonding with your dorm-mates. A week later, I slipped up and allowed myself to play card games with friends from midnight to six am, something I hadn’t done since my freshman year. I can’t blame myself and I don’t regret it, because it was a lot of fun, but now I am suffering the consequences: sleeping late and waking up early for class, followed by sleeping early and waking up late to make up for it.

So from now on I am going to improve my sleep schedule and maintain it. And if I don’t, I will post it on this blog and everyone can leave comments about how horrible I am.

Some rules/strategies I am going to follow:

Develop a calming evening routine to calm down and allow time to reflect over the day; (yay, this will allow me to simultaneously work towards my goal of flossing more!)
*At first, if I don’t feel tired around 11, take a sleeping pill, which will have me asleep by midnight. Try to get off of these as soon as possible because they leave me a bit drowsy in the morning.
*Wake up at 8 no matter what, even if I slept at 6am the night before. No matter what, do not nap during the day. One crappy day will be made up for by a week of good sleep.
*Reward myself for waking up early with a nice breakfast.
*NO CAFFEINE after lunch. No sugary drinks after dinner. I am super sensitive to both of these, but find them incredibly hard to resist.
*Listen to my lecture on my ipod if I can’t fall asleep (it’s boring so it will put me to sleep, and if I don’t fall asleep then I won’t feel bad about wasting time!)

Now let me explain why I am awake at 6:40 am and where procrastination fits in. I have just spent the past 8 hours straight churning out an essay about Classical Chinese Rituals. The first four hours were spent deciphering ancient Chinese philosophical cannons, and the rest were spent exercising the BS section of my brain. Word count and expresso have been my best friends tonight.

Everyone procrastinates. I thought that as I gained more college experience, I would learn to study better, but I only learned to play harder and procrastinate better. I learned how to turn out A grade papers during an all-nighter, and how to put off studying for exams until the night before. The problem is that this type of learning only allows for short term gain and not long-term retention. In the end, who would you rather have for a doctor: someone with a 4.0 undergraduate GPA, or someone who actually remembers their stuff? I long ago realized that grades didn’t matter as much as substance, which is why I justified neglecting my school work for so long in favor of socializing. But I have yet to master the skill of actual learning rather than grade-snagging.

What am I going to do about it? For now, I’m not going to worry about this because having too many goals at once is way too overwhelming and I think my sleep is more important. More to come about procrastination later.

(PS. I hope some of you will learn from my example and not leave your essays to write for the last night!)

I got to know him because I had been asking him for help in freshman biology class everyday in high school. Sometimes after we talked about bio, we would chat about other random stuff – once we talked on the phone through the entire night until he had to leave to catch the bus at 6:30 in the morning. Another time we had a long bio assignment due the next day and we agreed to take turns sleeping in hour intervals, work on the homework, and then collaborate at the end. However, when it reached the agreed upon time to give him his wake-up call, his dad answered the phone and yelled at me.  (I still am not that partial to his dad even now…)

I still remember the day that he asked me out. It was the end of the school day and we were all walking to our busses. He approached me and suddenly and awkwardly asked, “Will you be my girlfriend?” I wasn’t that surprised because it was obvious that we liked each other, but I had no idea how to react in this situation. I just responded, “yes” with a large, insuppressible smile on my face, and turned immediately without saying goodbye to run to my bus.

I thought that now that we were officially dating, everything would get so much better. But it didn’t. Everything just became really awkward. We look at each other and in my mind I’m thinking, “Are we supposed to be holding hands? How do I act like your girlfriend?”. We never held hands. Okay, maybe once. But I was even more touchy-feely with my other guy friends than I was with my boyfriend.  Then I didn’t know what to say to him and started avoiding him. He would follow me around when I tried to get away. In the end, I couldn’t stand it anymore and turned around and told him, “I don’t think it’s working out”. He told me, “I don’t think I will ever love anyone else”, and proceeded to stop talking to me for a year.

We are now best friends, and we look back at this time and laugh. Aren’t middle school and high school relationships so funny when we think back on them? Share your first boyfriend/girlfriend story!

In high school I played four different sports, one each season for school (volleyball, track, and softball) and soccer year round with the city team. Once I entered college, my active lifestyle went out the drain and my computer replaced my boyfriend on my list of things I spend the most time with. “Exercise more” was on my list of new goals for the semester every time, and my daily trips to the gym would last at most a week before I became a mindless computer zombie again. The all-you-can-eat dining hall (coupled with my hereditary frugality, which makes me feel compulsively obligated to get the most for my money) made matters worse. Although I was never fat (thanks to my incredible metabolism – also inherited), I was definitely unhealthily out of shape.

Not unlike vegetarians, I am also surrounded by health-o-philes. You know the type: eats a salad everyday for lunch, counts calories, shops at yuppy organic only markets, works out at the gym during lunch breaks, replaces yogurt for butter in baked goods. Every time I walked past the vegan café, or the organic fro-yo (that’s Stanford-talk for frozen yogurt) shop, I could never suppress a tiny scoff: Americans who depend on the commercialized market of “health-friendly” products to ingratiate their otherwise-baseless-ego.

I’m going to pre-empt all the angry comments I will receive: “Crystal, you’re such a hypocritical bitch, you’re only trashing other people’s lives to ingratiate your own ‘otherwise-baseless-ego’. Since you think you’ve got all the answers, how do you propose we stay healthy without buying into the so-called health commercialism?”

A friend of mine gets plenty of exercise without ever having to force himself to do so. He plays badminton, soccer, etc. etc. just to have a good time. He chooses to eat healthy because he thoroughly enjoys the food. The point is that exercise is not just a chore, another goal or item on the to-do-list. A run is not just about staring at the digital readout on the treadmill; lifting weights not just about getting to the next level; and exercise not about trying to decrease the numbers on that scale; but that the process is a sincerely rewarding experience and the behavior a sustainable lifestyle.

This semester, I started to exercise again. I run a mile on the treadmill, followed by a set of eight on all of the arm machines. The entire routine takes about 30 minutes, which is ideal for me because it forces me to exert a good workout, yet it doesn’t take too long. This allows me to justify going to exercise everyday.

At first, it was not that often –a mile on the treadmill at a slow pace every other day. I couldn’t even complete a mile (at pace 7) without walking in the middle. I wasn’t going to go to the gym more often until my friend told me that she also wanted to exercise more. Now, we go together everyday after our physics class. When I first started, I was embarrassed to use the gym facilities; I would switch the weight on the machines to the lightest level and avoid eye contact when a super buff guy used it next and added 100 more pounds. I had not had much experience with treadmills, so I thought it would be a good idea to close my eyes and pretend I was running outside. BAD IDEA: I ended up falling off the end of the treadmill, not realize what was going on and kept trying to get back up on the treadmill while it was still running. The next day, the man on staff wanted to tell me something about not stretching against the glass panes, and he told me “I meant to tell you yesterday, but I didn’t want to embarrass you”. So I had even garnered the receptionist’s sympathy!

Now, I’ve already increased the weight levels on most of the machines by 10 pounds (no more flabby arms!), and also decreased my mile time to 7:30 (a pace of 8.5 on the treadmill). I hope that I can run in a 5K sometime, but I will be building up slowly towards that goal. On the weekends or when I have time, I reward myself with a fun activity, like hiking, rock climbing, or squash.

Some of the rewards from my new-found lifestyle?

• Academics: It’s a great study break and way to relieve stress after a long day; it also helps you to focus afterwards.
• Better sleep: I significantly improved my insomnia after exercising
• Better eating habits: exercising forces me to eat healthy food that gives me energy
• Mood: I feel more cheerful and the feeling of being freshly showered after a hard workout is the most amazing feeling in the world (after orgasm).

Here are some tips from my experience for converting from couch potato

• Do things with a friend! I have a workout buddy, a squash buddy, a hiking buddy, and a rock climbing buddy. It makes exercising more fun, gives you more motivation, and it’s also a great way to get to know people.
• Set goals at small increments and don’t burn yourself out too fast. Don’t increase to the next level until you can maintain your current level with minimal strain.
• Reward yourself while you exercise: I put my favorite songs on my ipod and I only allow myself to listen them to when I work out.
• Find something fun and active at the same time (swimming, sports, etc)
• Buy some nice workout clothes: it feels spiffy to look good in the gym (especially when surrounded by so many hot guys…). You’ll want to work out just to show off your hot bod in them.
• When you start out, find a smaller gym that with a less intimidating atmosphere so you won’t be too scared off.
• Don’t work out for too long. Going everyday for a little bit is much better than going once a week for a long time

I’d like to give some credit here to the blog, www.zenhabits.net, for giving me lots of inspiration and tips on staying active. I subscribe to this blog, and highly recommend it!

At school I am surrounded by vegetarians. We even have a whole house devoted to vegetarianism (no meat allowed on premises). As more and more of my friends converted to vegetarianism, I merely scoffed at them (Save a Cow, eat a Vegetarian!). The truth is, I envied their self-discipline. I myself, having tried multiple times to convert to vegetarianism, always gave in after a few days. However, this time I have started again and hope to maintain this lifelong habit!

I realized that what I lacked before was motivation. Previous attempts were merely out of curiosity – to see if I could do it. This time, I found a diet avoiding meats as a way to improve acne. Since my acne has been a constant source of shame since my tween years, and after years of various products, doctors, and regimens – I decided, “why not?”.

I intend to gradually wean myself off of my normal diet. I will publicly make a promise right here that I will continue to be vegetarian unless I see no improvement in my acne for 2 weeks. After one day of not eating meat, I already noticed a huge improvement in my skin tone! Encouraged so, I have already been meatless for a week! Next, I plan to cut eggs out of my diet. I’ll let you all know how well the vegetarian plan is going.

The Annie's Delivery Boy

I spent this summer doing econometric research about migrant workers in China. After traveling through rural Southwestern China surveying thousands of migrant workers, I was frustrated that I had not had the chance to get to know a single one of them on a more in depth, personal level.  The night I arrived back at my apartment in Beijing, frustrated and disillusioned with my research – but also tired and lazy to go out – I decided on delivery for dinner. I carelessly reached for the Annie’s take-out menu, the cute little Italian restaurant whose menu my family (as Westerners in China, once they found a place with good pizza, stuck to it like a thumb in a bottle) kept next to the telephone.  A voice over the phone spoke to me in heavily accented English: “OK, a numbah nine frutti mari delivery to building six Lishui Garden. Someone will be right ova.”
When that someone knocked on the door, I answered it and saw a small boy – who looked about 17 or 18 – dressed in a yellow Annie’s shirt, black dress pants and shoes, and a cute little red cap on his head. He cheerfully addressed me, “Hello, Annie’s delivery!” “That’s ok,” I told him, “I can speak Chinese. How much do I owe you?” However, when I reached into my wallet, my face flushed bright pink with embarrassment; I did not have a single currency of cash on me. Certain that my family must have some cash hidden in the apartment, I asked him to come in and wait for me to find the money. He politely refused to enter, preferring instead to stand outside the doorway. This made me feel quite uncomfortable, as I had my suitcase sprawled right in front of the doorway and had been unpacking, my clothes splayed everywhere in the entrance. The delivery boy was obviously unaccustomed to such a living arrangement, and must’ve contented himself with the explanation that I was moving soon. My anxiety heightened as I flipped through drawers and turned out pockets but could not find a single bill. At last, the only choice I had was to ask him to accompany me to the nearest bank (since I had no idea where it was), and to wait for me to withdraw some money. So we set out, me in my pajamas, him walking his Annie’s delivery bike. “Busy day at work today?” I asked him. “No, not really, just like every other day,” he replied. “Does this happen to you often?” I joked. “No, you’re pretty particular in that respect”.

As we chatted, I began to learn more about his life. And the more he told me, the more I was hungry to learn more. He had migrated from his rural hometown to find work in the city, just like the other thousands of migrant workers I had surveyed. I asked him about his background, education, family, motivation to migrate, difficulties encountered. He had so many experiences that when he finished walking me back to my apartment, I knew I had to keep talking to him. I gave him my business card and told him he could feel free to call me. Before he left, he told me he would think about me, but I never really thought I would see him again.

We all deserve to be loved

It is 1:19am on February 6th, which means I have exactly 7 days, 22 hours, and 41 minutes to find a date for Valentine’s day. Otherwise, I will be able to proudly mark 2009 as the first time I’ll be spending a Valentine’s Day single since I had my first boyfriend. In that case, I will call a girls’ night out, ask my roommate out on a date, and eat a romantic dinner followed by the new “He’s just not that into you” movie. Although I promised my roommate a Valentine’s Day date, she still remains doubtful that I will follow through because she believes that I am a siren with a magical ability to bewitch men.  Having lived with me for the past two years, she has heard all my guy stories that she can now recite them to eager new audiences. In fact, she is so confident in my powers that she predicts I will have a breakfast, lunch, and dinner date, each with different men, and she has already arranged alternate plans. Yet, so far, no lucky guy has ventured to ask me to be his Valentine.
During a late night conversation tonight with my hallmates, I lost my voice because we were laughing so much while my roommate and I were entertaining them with my guy stories. I don’t tell these stories to brag, it’s just that they’re the only entertaining part about my life. They were all trying to answer the question – what is it about me that attracts so many guys – when someone suggested that I should start a blog about my guy stories.

I am myself quite perplexed by this question. I don’t consider myself particularly attractive. Physically, I would say that I am quite average looking. I rarely bother with dressing myself up or wearing make up, so that most days I walk around as if I had just rolled out of bed. My complexion is quite bad, especially as a result of a self-destructive depressive phase during my freshman year in which I attacked my face and left it covered with scars. Although I am not fat, I do find pieces of fat bulging out due to poor eating habits – so I cannot boast a hot body.

I am a neurotic, alpha-type, uptight female with self-confidence issues, who has suffered from multiple bouts of depression in the recent past, and constantly allows my self-destructive habits to get the better end of me. I am anti-social, preferring to stay locked up in my room playing geeky online games rather than partying with classmates. Given a choice, I would rather not expend the energy to interact with people who I do not give a crap about. My mood swings from high to low at such fast paces that I don’t think even Usain Bolt could catch up. At a very superficial, cursory level, friends have described me as, as “interesting” and “ambitious”.

Of course, this blog is not only aimed to answer the question that my friends had suggested (although it was the inspiration for the blog). Yes, there are traits about me that make me attractive to others. On the flip side of the coin, there is something about me that prevents me from living life to the fullest. What exactly is the trouble with Crystal?

My hope is that through my blog, together with my readers, we can use my life as a case study to find a path to happiness. While I share my stories, of course I invite you to comment and share your stories as well!