I have a complex. Not complex carbohydrates or anything like that. Kind of like the Oedipus complex, but nothing that gross. I have to say that when I tell people about my "complex" they laugh and don't take me seriously. As though I were a child. As though it was nothing. Well, it is something to me. During high school, I was one of the top students. Not just a straight-A student, but the kind that gets special acknowledgement. My high school campus consisted of 3000 or so students. Almost all of them knew who I was. I was the smart girl. I had the most AP classes, passed all of the AP exams, did well enough on the SAT and SAT II. (I probably wrote of this millions of times by now.) When application time rolled around, I had the audacity to apply to only 5 schools. I applied to Stanford, just to see if I could get in. I applied to UC Berkeley, which has always been my first choice out of any school that existed. I applied to UCLA as a backup to UC Berkeley, and Cal state Northridge as a back up for the backup. I also applied to USC because my uncle told me if my cousin(from Texas) should attend USC, he would pay me to go there with her. Although not an option I liked, nevertheless, it was just an option. So those five. My peers applied to about 10 schools on average. UCI, UC Davis, UCSD, other cal state, and some even to more prestigious places like Yale, Harvard and the rest. I didn't care much for Harvard or Yale -- I wouldn't go if they accepted me. But long story short, I got rejected to all the public schools, because I was an international student, and public schools are obligated to accept a high percentage of tax-payers. I got a letter of acceptance from Stanford, but I could not pay it's outrageous tuition of one Mercedes C-class/year. USC rejected me because I didn't have the equivalence of a Mercedes C-class in my bank account. My cousin went on to Boston University, and I was out of luck. One of my closest friends went to Yale. Another to UCLA. I had no where to go. For months and years after those days, my class mates and whoever knew me asked where I went to college. They assumed I'd be at a great institution covered by ivy. Ever since those days, I have been just so ashamed and embarrased that I virtually kept no contact with high school friends and acquaintances.

Zapping to October of 2003, I am getting over this thing. I realize I made some mistakes and had some bad lucks, but I will prevail because I am a strong individual. It's easier said than done of course, so the situation is still a work in progress. Tonight, I went to work out, and saw a girl I knew way back then. She is a year younger than yours truly, and I do remember being on rather friendly terms before. She jumped on the treadmill next to mine, and I kind of sensed that she was trying to get my attention so she can say hello. Thankfully, I had earphones on with Evanescence playing, so I pretended not to notice, and pretended to be so immersed in my workout. I finished my mile, and jumped off the treadmill as though I was very winded and left, although I normally do about 2.5 miles. I cut my workout short because I was afraid to say hello to someone I already know, who was willing to say hi first? Yes, I definitely have issues. When I am driving without the music on, I start thinking and thinking and my mind starts drifting and sometimes over-analizing myself, and I realize that it's really about time I see a shrink. Seeing a "therapist" is trendy these days, and goes hand in hand with yoga. However, unlike yoga and pilates, seeing a therapist costs a lot more money. I'll have to make a mental note to take it up as soon as I strike rich. Maybe, if I pretend to be homeless, I can commit myself in some sort of public institution. Would that be too much like Girl Interrupted? Hm.. I'll have to think about that one.