And I can’t even go to the MIDNIGHT PREMIERE! FML. Why? Because the damn tickets were sold out because college kids are apparently into wizards and witches.

I’m not too sad. I’m seeing it tomorrow. Even skipping a class to go see it. But now I’m being overcome with the sense of excitement. Finally. It’s here.

I want to buy two things. One the paperback set of HP. Then the hardcover set of HP. Total moolah? $150 plus tax.

My childhood. Seriously.

I remember reading this book when I was 8 or 9 years old. Now I’m 20. It’s still a HUGE part of my life.

What the hell am I supposed to look forward to when it’s all over?!


But let your ears enjoy this lovely song:

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The Poor don’t exist!

Naw, I kid.

But seriously. Why are the poor referred to as “Working Class”? Is that supposed to be something along the lines of being politically correct? I mean, Middle Class and Upper Class work as well. Probably not as much or in shitty ass jobs but still!

I’m not trying to put down the “Working Class”. They gotta what they gotta do to make a living. I totally respect that. But I feel like giving them the label of “Working Class” kind of overlooks the fact that even in the US (American Dream!) we have poor people. And as I’m starting to take a more active interest in politics and just society in general, it’s becoming clear to me that there is a stratification and HUGE disparities along class lines.

I understand that if you make a shit ton of money. Well, you should decide what to do with it. It’s your money. Cool, I get you.

BUT. If you were a decent person who cared a little more for others than yourself, the right thing would be to make American society a little less stratified. To close the inequality gaps.

I know this for sure. I plan to be a wealthy individual someday when I’m older. But I will remember where I come from and the fact that there are many many many poor people out there who just don’t have enough. Yes, there are individual choices and decisions that may have prevented a better life but I’ve also learned that there are systems that are in place to keep things the way they are. I think that’s wrong.

I think I’ll do some research on this. God, why am I such a nerd. I should go melt my brain with the Jersey Shore or some other soul-sucking media bullshit.

This is what I get for pursuing intellectual versus pleasure. Hope it pays off in the future.

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All in the name~

I hate my name. Quick random not-so-personal information.

Real first name is Cassie. Neither of my parents named because at the time of my birth their English was virtually non-existent. So my “white” aunt gave me the name “Casey”. But my mom didn’t like the way it looked visually so she decided to add “-sie” instead to make it more feminine. She didn’t realize that changing the spelling would also alter the way it would be pronounced.

I remember all through out elementary school the funny game where everyone could yell at the teacher for saying my name wrong. “It’s not CASSIE (kass-ee)! It’s CASSIE (kay-see)!” I’ve been told countless times by adults that I am pronouncing my name wrong OR I’m spelling my name wrong. I usually smile and quickly explain my mom’s blunder other times I just want to punch them in the face and scream, “NO FUCKING SHIT WAY. I HAD NO IDEA THAT’S HOW YOU SPELL/PRONOUNCE MY NAME.” But I fight temptation very well.

Then there’s the whole awkward moment when you have to correct people constantly. Because people remember what your name looks like but not how it’s pronounced. I always hated telling teachers or other figures of authority that they were saying my name wrong. Sometimes I would just never correct them because I was too fed up with explaining the same story over and over again.

I mean. On the bright side? I knew who my real friends were. The ones who actually took the time to remember how to pronounce my name were my friends. The ones who made an effort to actually remember how to say it.

But there were very few out there.

Maybe that’s why I have an obsession with names. I probably have had over 100 different email accounts and usernames because I ended up getting too tired of the old one or didn’t think it fit me. It just never felt right to me.

But I’m sure I used excuses. To stop myself from actually creating content. To stop myself from actually doing something and contributing to society. I got stuck on the name that I never realized that’s only a part of who I am. What I have to offer to the world is also another part of me.

I’m determined to change my name. I don’t give a shit about how complicated or long the process is. I need to get this done. I’m not even actually changing my name. Just the way it’s spelled. So that I can make it easier for others to remember me.

That and seeing the word “ass” in my name just bugs the shit out of me.


Casie Jeon

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Who Will I Be?

I think for a person so intent on making a great future for herself, I tend to dwell on the past. A lot.

I can’t believe that I’m already 20 years old. I remember when I was young being super shy and not being able to talk to anyone without stuttering or looking them in the eye. Now, I’m just a little bit socially awkward and you can barely tell. Most people peg me as the “quiet Asian girl” until they get to know me better then the label turns into “crazy Asian girl”. LOL.

It’s still interesting though. I’ve learned a lot in these past twenty years. Not only about myself but the people around me. The world and how society works. I still have a lot more to digest but I can definitely say I’m probably much more knowledgeable than I was at let’s say, age 3.

And I think that’s one of my problems. I don’t give myself enough credit. I constantly put myself down mentally. I always attribute my lack of opportunities as something bad. I see the way I was raised as being a disadvantage for me. I see all the past circumstances have worked against me becoming the best possible person I could be today.

I remember certain memories that always depict me as the submissive child who couldn’t do anything. I can’t tell you how angry I get when I remember the silent girl who didn’t know how to act in social situations. I’m starting to wonder if I actually had some sort of condition but it wasn’t as severe so nobody thought it was too odd.

I have to be proud of myself. I have been through a lot. As the oldest child, I’ve probably gone through a hell lot more than most kids my age or in my situation. That’s fine. I’m a better person for it anyway.

This is me. I can’t keep hiding. I can’t keep thinking the world is against me. I need to see this as way to push myself beyond my limits.

Almost done with this semester. And when I’m done, winter break is going to be one hell of a start for the new year.

I guarantee it. 🙂

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Get serious!

Ugh. I look into the mirror and hold my arm up. The flab makes me want to stab myself. For real.

I don’t know if there’s been any improvement. I’m scared that I haven’t even changed at all. But that can’t be right. Even though I don’t go to the gym consistently and have cheat meals here and there, I am still doing better than last year. I would order fast food every single week in HUGE quantities. I ate very unhealthily choosing the greasy fatty stuff versus vegetables and fruits. Now it’s the opposite. I’m wary of eating anything with too much sauce. I always make sure to include vegetables and eat fruit for dessert instead of soft-served ice cream.

But I need to pump up the level of intensity here. I’m getting three meals a day and that’s great. I need to be stricter with my meal content. Breakfast is a free for all. Sort of. I can eat whatever because I’ll just burn those calories. But lunch and especially dinner are the problem areas. A huge portion of the meal should be veggies. Then a smaller portion of whatever else. Preferably not too many carbs because then they’ll turn into fat.

I’m exercising. I know that I’ve upped my endurance. I remember when I could barely walk across campus without my legs hurting. Now I don’t feel it. I can walk up four flights of stairs easily several times a day. No biggie.

But I gotta bring it up a notch. I need to lose 10 lbs before January 1, 2011. It isn’t that hard. Not impossible. Just highly dependent on how hard I’m willing to work.

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I’ve recently started to take an interest in politics and current events. And I also just turned 20 two weeks ago.

Can’t spot anything wrong there? The truth is I’ve never really cared about what was happening in the world. Seriously, I feel like I’ve lived in a bubble my whole life. My parents rarely ever talked about politics and if they did, they made it very clear that it was an “adult” discussion and something I wouldn’t have to worry about. Repeat that same conversation here I am two years after becoming a legal “adult” and I’m clueless. And I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say that not too many of my peers care or are well informed.

Now that I’m trying to not only educate myself but really work to stay informed, I’m starting to feel hopeless. It’s like once you get to one issue you have to learn about a whole slew of others to really comprehend the consequences. I don’t mind reading more and more articles. It makes me a smarter person. But other people? Most kids aren’t going to waste their time really understanding what’s going on. If they have to read several pieces to understand the issue at point. . . .I’m doubtful of their willingness to actually become informed citizens.

I don’t think I know everything. Nor do I believe I’m any more intelligent than the next person. However, I do claim one thing. And that is a stubbornness that goes beyond what’s tolerated by most people. Haha. I’m not easily satisfied if one person tells me something. I have to ask three other people and verify the facts. I ask for advice but the ultimate decision is mine. If I don’t like or don’t understand something, rest assured I’ll go after whoever is best to answer me. My favorite question as a child was. . .WHY? It drove my parents crazy. And trust me. Asking why to any Asian parent is questioning their authority and attacking the Confucian-influenced upbringing style.

I don’t resent my parents. They did what they had to do in order to raise me well enough and give me more opportunities than I otherwise would have had. But I am angry and frustrated that I am at a disadvantage from other children. Not just because I’m Asian American. Because I’m also first generation born in the US. Because I come from a financially poor background. I don’t have much. Everything I have right now, I’ve earned through hard work. Not so with quite a few of my friends who are white, middle class, and usually never even have to worry/think about the stuff I stress about.

But you know what? It’s okay. This blog IS called “Thrive On Adversity” for a reason. I’m a highly optimistic individual. I can see the good side to almost every single situation and if there isn’t one, I’ll be sure to create it. I understand that challenges and obstacles are the tools that will shape into a better person of the future. The more I go through problems, the better I’ll become at handling them smoothly and with confidence.

I cannot guarantee that I’ll become the President and hopefully do great things. But I can control my reactions with the things I collide with and that sort of skill will ultimately help me do what I need to do in this world.

This was all fueled by reading articles on CNN about Obama and G20. Ugh. Yes, this is what I do in my free time.

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Working for 4 hours = $36 (before taxes are taken out).

Damn. Really? I’m okay with that? Or was I so blinded by the biweekly checks that totaled around $400 which meant only $200 a week for 20+ hours? Granted, my job is not difficult. I sit at a desk and check people’s IDs as they walk into the dorms. I sign in people and make comments about how dumb freshman are. Things could be a lot worse.

But I have to work at night. Starting from 8pm until 12am Sunday through Wednesday, 2am on Thursday, and 3am on Friday and Saturday. I usually work Sunday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. It sucks. I hate it. I’m bored out of mind and just want to get some damn sleep. Not to mention my whole sleeping schedule gets fucked up on Sunday and then I’m screwed for the rest of the week. THEN when I finally DO get adjusted I have to work a late night and there goes my chance of getting a consistent schedule.

But what else can I do? I’m a sophomore in college. I’m not supposed to work as much as I do. And I don’t possess any skill set that would constitute being paid higher than minimum wage.

And for some reason this revelation REALLY pisses the shit out of me. Why am I not doing anything? I don’t want to be locked in a pattern of no action.

On this note of being angry at new information. I’m disgusted with myself. For a number of reasons.

I hate how I used to be so shy and still can be reserved. . . when I shouldn’t be! I hate how I’ve adopted the American way of being lazy and apathetic towards everything. Ugh. I hate that even at age 20 and with some college education under my belt I still feel like the biggest idiot in the world. I hate feeling so weak and directionless.

What can I do? How can I make this better?

I need to change my situation around. This life right now? It ain’t working out for me.

I’m so fucking bored that I don’t know what to do with my mind that is starting to drive me crazy.



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