Enamel Birds

Fri, 26 Dec 2008 06:39:47 GMT

so I didn't break 700 for Math II either time I took it. I'm so stupid that my SAT I score went down too, the 2nd time. I'm so apathetic now even though college app deadlines are looming and I haven't even finished the common app essay. I wish I could be like Khalil and just go to culinary school. I've recently found that I do like baking...although my opinion of the products seem to differ greatly from everyone else's. Here's a recipe that I want to try from the NYTimes, which I found on the Wednesday Chef's blog:

February 8, 2006

Recipe: Azo Family Chocolate Cake

Time: 40 minutes, plus 3 hours for cooling

8½ ounces (2 sticks plus 1 tablespoon) unsalted butter, more for greasing pan
7 ounces bittersweet chocolate (50 percent or higher cocoa), chopped
5 large eggs, separated
1 cup sugar
½ cup all-purpose flour
Pinch of salt
Whipped cream for serving (optional).

1. Place rack in top third of oven and heat to 400 degrees. (For best results, use a separate oven thermometer.) Butter a 9-inch springform pan and set aside. In a double boiler or microwave oven, melt together 8½ ounces butter and the chocolate. Stir to blend.

2. In a medium bowl, stir together egg yolks and sugar. Stir in flour. Add chocolate mixture and stir until smooth. Using an electric mixer, whisk egg whites and salt until stiff but not dry. Fold whites into chocolate mixture just until blended. Pour into cake pan.

3. Bake for 25 minutes. Remove cake from oven and allow to cool for 1 hour. Wrap with foil and refrigerate until cake is firm and cold, at least 2 hours. Two hours before serving, remove cake from refrigerator and bring to room temperature. Slice (center of cake will be fudgy) and serve, if desired, with whipped cream.

Yield: 8 to 10 servings.

Sun, 05 Oct 2008 22:49:20 GMT

It hurt to be told by someone I respect intellectually that I didn't belong at the Stanford info session especially when I know that he's right and though I have the slimmest of chances when compared nationwide, compared to the school, I'm really at the bottom of the heap. Both Angelica and Rowena have broken down in school sobbing and going though the whole panic attack phase of the college process but strangely I'm so ...bland. Even though I say it hurts, it feels only like a slight ache that is just noticeable and is persistant but not agonizing. It just keeps going through my mind; attending these college sessions where admissions officers are talking about the triple-major concertmasters and the Marine servicemen and all the other extraordinary students finishing in two or fewer years, I feel so unqualified. I don't know where I fit in in this world and to be asked, what have you accomplished that you are most proud of? or what about yourself are you most proud of? is the worst when all my life I've been told to respect my elders and not to be boastful or prideful and that while I'm doing well, it's nothing special because there is always that one person bettersmarterprettier. I feel so dense and heavy most days, like a black hole, like nothing can penetrate and is sucked into a limbo to be lost. It's hard to care and hard not to care when every one is asking how high is your score your GPA your ranking or what school what major what what what. It's all about appearances and to me, the worst of actors, the worst at intuition and subtlety and anything but bluntness, it's so hard to play the game everyone else is when all I wnat to do is to sleep and surround myself in beauty and music. It's so hard to live up to everyone's expectations and preconceptions.

The SAT IIs on Saturday went ok at least, better than last time. USH seems to have a pretty steep curve though Math II does not. I skipped five questions and I know I got more than that wrong. I just hope I break 700. It's so shameful to say that I got a 3 on the Microeconomics AP. I couldn't bear doing so badly on any other test.

Reading my old posts and this one, I realize that I am weak in terms of will, I am a coward, a dullard, an idiot. Too elitist around ordinary teens, too fat and too ugly to fit in, to wear the clothes that would make me ok, at least, to be seen talking to, too stupid compared to other Hunterites. How can I do worse on the math part of the SATs and SAT IIs than someone in the H class? I am too careless, too forgetful, my skull too thick, my mind too full of junk, escapist fantasies and manga storylines. My head always feels full of pressure, but my mind is empty, filled wiht styrofoam fillers but little else. To insult myself and others is so easy but when I hear about or see those extraordinary teenagers who are entrepreneurs and A+ students, who play a dozen instrumetns and speak the smae number of languages, who are beautiful and smart and athletic and musical and artistiic and everything short of perfectiton. How do they do it? How do they keep everything in their minds and not forget a single word or number or note or technique or rule? To sell my soul to someone in return for that near-perfection...it is almost as hard a question to answer as whether i should inflict some injury upon myself. Sometimes I odn't know whether I am alive. Seeing Rowena cry, I ... am not beset by compassion or pity but rather by a curious detached anxiety. I wantetd to hug her, but I did not want to be touched. I wonder what it is like to kiss someone and I ownder how people like Ian and Joe and everyone figured out their sexual inclination by this time in their lives. I am drab, unattractive, standoffish, and touch-avoidant but still I wonder what it feels like not to have to worry about my weight crushing someone when I lean on them or what my awkward bulk feels like when I hug someone. It might be glorious; it might feel exactly as awkward and uncomfortable as it does now when I do either for more than several seconds. I hate my weak will. In elementary, Grace and I were often mistaken for each other. But since then, she lost weight while I put on weight and therein is the difference. She is optimistic, accomplished academically, a leader in the community, reasonably pretty: I am here opposite. I, who despised my brother's lacking achievements, ended up in the same position of being in a lesser position than those we called friend and those we despised.

Sun, 25 Nov 2007 01:55:49 GMT

There is such a thing as having too much control. When I am so frustrated and angry that I feel like hitting the walls, I am held back by the voice in me that screams my parents will be furious and there will be a hole in the wall. I wish there were someplace that I could just scream and let everything out physically. I absolutely HATEHATEHATEHATE it when my mother rearranges things then comes rushing to apologize. MAKE UP YOUR FUCKING MIND! I used to hate that word - fuck. But it's very hard and suits itself to the purpose that people have made for it as a curse.

Then again, with some things, I have no control. I have too much work to do before I can pull my grades up but I've whiled away today doing nothing.
'
I hate my weakness...I am too afraid of too many things to put all of myself into something that may not pay off....it's much easier to slip into someone else's dream-fantasy and observe....I can't be hurt that way. People who are talented and physically attractive or at least not overweight have an easier time throwing themselves into things, I think. They have fewer weaknesses that are apparent.......

It's all too easy to sleep my life away.....it's warm and comfortable....no one to hurt/annoy/bother me...........

I wish I could scream this but even soft noises travel in my house; the walls are thin and hollow.

GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Mon, 03 Sep 2007 19:28:16 GMT

Squishing a fly and seeing maggots come out of it's backside is the most unpleasant thing that I've ever seen. Absolutely disgusting.

Sun, 02 Sep 2007 03:55:20 GMT

Amanda had baby Brandon on Wednesday, or more correctly, she had a C-section that resulted in baby Brandon being extracted from her uterus. He looks ugly but is actually more attractive than some other babies in the baby ward, one of which whose hands and feet were bluish while the rest of it was entirely red.

The US Open is going on so it's been that and Good Eats and various other TV shows when I should be reading the stupid book....or studying Chem, which I haven't done at all. I'll probably take it next year....if I ever get around to studying for it.

Orientation on the 4th, only 2 more days! and class on the 6th XP

Mon, 27 Aug 2007 13:18:46 GMT

Today, my week of sleeping at 3/4 AM ends as Mother is coming back this morning.

Just for fun:

You scored as Agnostic, Agnostics consider the possibility that they may be wrong about God's existence, no matter which side of the fence they stand on. Always willing to objectively evaluate the most ridiculous proof, nevertheless, these guys are skeptics of the Nth degree.

Agnostic

83%

Apathetic Atheist

75%

Spiritual Atheist

75%

Scientific Atheist

67%

Angry Atheist

58%

Militant Atheist

33%

Theist

33%

What kind of atheist are you?
created with QuizFarm.com

I apparently don't care and I give things a chance because it's more interesting that way.

This week is definitely one on the lists for most wasted....
I hate the Bay Terrace B&N. Of the six books I looked for, it only had two and neither were ones that I particularly liked. Why?!

Huzzah for the Sex Etc. Amazon gift card! Man, that sounds weird....and perverted.....but it isn't.

Wed, 22 Aug 2007 07:45:03 GMT

I just remembered that the teacher from my Political Econ. class at Columbia's SHSP was going to take advantage of the housing bubble to net himself a house in London. Apparently, things are the same over there as here but because the pounds going for about twice the dollar, houses and flats cost a lot more. I wonder if he got a place to live because he moved soon after the program ended and he was still homeless. His name is Alexander Villanueva (or Villanova) Gordon with the little slashy thingie over the second 'o' because he's Philippino although he's a British national. Dunno why that amused me.

And mention of Columbia pulled up to the surface of my mind the thought of the Science Honors Program. When are they going to confirm things? Oh well, I better get to sleep. The time is now: 3.44 AM

Wed, 22 Aug 2007 05:29:59 GMT

Ryan and Mother left for Florida today. It was a horrible day for flying and just in general. It rained all day long and Hurricane Dean was battering Mexico and Belize but I don't know if it affected Florida.

I finally got my course list from Hunter today but no schedule and gym isn't on the list. They probably haven't sorted that out yet. I don't know what they're going to do for the swimming class because it looks like the pool and Hunter North is still undergoing renovations.

The rain makes everything so cold. Today the highest was 60 degrees, which is bloody close to freezing at this time of the year. I don't know what's going on with me; everything just drags me down and my head almost always feels like there's some kind of pressure pushing both inwards and outwards against my skull and my brain. Is that what a headache feels like? People never describe them so I don't know. It clouds up everything.

Tue, 21 Aug 2007 04:33:09 GMT

Watching Anthony Bourdain in Beirut is a poignant reminder that even relatively famous people can suddenly become involved in conflicts that have nothing to do with them and the best thing to do is stay alert and prepared. Very soon after he arrived, conflicts between the Israelis and the Lebanese or whoever was in Lebanon at the time began again and he (and his camera crew) was forced to move to a different hotel where all the guests gathered each day on the pool deck to watch Beirut get bombed by the Israelis every day. Since the Hotel Royal was on a hill, they had a perfect view. The airport was bombed soon after the move, the next day or something, and he had to wait for the production crew in the US or where-ever it's based to arrange evacuation with the Marines, who were helping evacuate American expats and Lebanese refugees. At the moment I couldn't think of what it reminded me of, but I just realized that the waiting and being trapped in a hotel was very much like the situation in Hotel Rwanda, except of course the city streets were not lined with dead bodies and it was an international conflict, not an internal one. But the hotel filling up with refugees waiting to be evacuated and people writing or calling in this case to whomever they could and the tenseness...

Several things jumped out at me for the sheer ridiculousness. One, Bourdain said that the only thing from Washington that he saw in the news on TV was a clip of Bush eating a buttered roll or buttering the roll or w/e while Blair tried to get his attention and this clip was played over and over again and nothing else was shown re: the American government. Two, among the people that Bourdain said people were trying to call were people who worked at CNN, which struck me as funny for some reason although it makes sense b/c one needs to get information from somewhere. There was one person, referred to only as "some guy by the pool", who could predict everything that happened from which building got bombed to who was getting out....there was the question of how he knew though.

On a more personal note, Ryan and Mother go away to Florida tomorrow. Ryan for 7/2 months until Christmas break and Mother until next Monday.

Maya, I think mistful writes absolutely hilarious fics and little anecdotes in dialogue/play form about incidents in her life. Her personality is simply a humorous one, capable of finding something funny in everything, while I'm simply bleh. She seems an interesting person and I wouldn't mind meeting her, although I think that she and I wouldn't suit at all because of our different personalities.

I think for the last couple years I've been living life very abstractly and detachedly. I don't remember very much of what I experienced, although I think much could have been spent in better programs. I really need to find something to 'specialise' in, although it's a little late resume-wise compared to some people who've stuck to something throughout their entire high school career.

That makes me think of how appalled I am at the increasingly common spelling and grammar mistakes that I come across on the Internet, even as one person is berating another for their mistakes, they make their own. That isn't to say that my grammar is stellar, b/c that I nearly failed the grammar unit in 8th grade, but the most basic tenets should be observed.

Fri, 17 Aug 2007 21:58:01 GMT

小 Fong and her family came up from Houston while 大 Buoh Mu came from Taiwan. I accompanied 小 Fong and family yesterday for lunch and to the Met. The kids started complaining on the M15 ten minutes in and Sarah Michelle wouldn't sit still. She still hasn't learned to vocalize wants although she is certainly old enough and capable. At the Met, 姐父 took Sarah Michelle while 小 Fong took the boys. I went with her and I think if I hadn't at least been there to keep William from running off, she would have gone ballistic. That is, not to say she didn't have a hard time keeping her temper since both were constantly complaining but at least she didn't have to chase after either of them. I hate little kids.

小 Fong and fam. are going back to Texas this Monday while Mom and Ryan are leaving on Tuesday. I really really have to start preparing for the SAT II Chem retake, not to mention actually register for it, as well as for school, although I don't know if any one has actually received their schedules.

Oh yeah, I finally found my paperback-sized sketch pads and discovered that I had been using one of them as a journal....the last date of entry was 1 Oct 2006. I imagine that I'll be switching between virtual and real journals in the future if I actually remember where I put my real one.

Sun, 12 Aug 2007 03:49:02 GMT

Two days ago, I almost forgot that it was the 62nd anniversary of the bombing of Nagasaki. The 6th was the bombing of Hiroshima.

Today we sprayed the house for mice and bugs. It was really annoying getting everything off the floor but some things got sorted out, like old homeworks and papers and which to keep and which to toss. I still have lots of things piled up and I really need to get around to deciding what to do with the books that Jan gave me a while ago. Most are mysteries and thrillers, which I don't read. I've also got books from library book sales that are only sitting around. The worst part is going to be moving everything back and stacking it all up again. I'll get to it eventually even if it is already 11p.

After we covered everything and started spraying, we spent the day at the Mitsuwa Marketplace in Edgewater, NJ. It's a Japanese grocery-cum-food court with a bookstore (like Book-Off w/ CDs and vids), a ceramics shop-cum-toy-store-cum-hygienics-cum-kimono-store with a lot of odds and ends that don't quite fit into those categories, and a Shiseido boutique opposite the marketplace building in a little strip like at outlets. I got some really cute notepads with those black/white sq. pigs on them and a pack of teensy mini-post-it strips in pastel colors. Since it was the opening day, there was a little festival set up in tents in the parking lot with games and food. There was curry rice, gyoza, okonomiyaki, yakitori, and other foods. The yakitori was ok but the grilled squid was better. There was a stall that sold shrimp and scallops (which were vastly better than the former) and lobster (which was overpriced and a huge let down). Inside the marketplace, they sold oh-toro from both the blue-fin tuna and I think the yellowfin. The blue-fin oh toro was twice the price of the yellow-fin one. There were a lot of people, mostly white, Japanese, and Chinese.

There was a bag in the everything shop with those pigs on them that I really wanted but it was $30 and the stationary I got was already almost $30. So, I did the random number thing and mom picked one, which was no, so I didn't get it. There were also Totoro dolls that were really cute but they were even more expensive. In the bookstore, on a TV, they cycled through trailers for all the Studio Ghibli films, incl. Tales from Earthsea. I haven't seen that one yet but I heard that it wasn't as good as the others. It makes sense since it was directed by Miyazaki Hayao's son, whose name I think is Goro, and not Miyazaki himself. Still I heard it was pretty good for a first film, especially considering who his father is.

I'm been reading a fanfic (HP of course, HP/LM) titled Je Te Plumerai, which is the recurring theme. It really is stuck in my head now. I really like it XP It goes "allouette, gentile allouette, allouette, je te plumerai (insert body part), repeat, et body part, repeat, allouette, allouette..." I'm not sure if it's an actual song, probably is, but I'm too lazy to look it up. Anyway, in reply to L saying all children's songs are macabre, which is true, H starts singing "Great, green gobs of greasy, grimy gopher guts, mutilated monkey meat, little dirty birdies' feet..." XD

Thu, 09 Aug 2007 03:51:05 GMT

Today marks the one year period before the Beijing Olympics next year. The media's gone crazy talking about it and CNN is doing a special one week "Countdown to Beijing" series reporting on what's been done, what people think etc. etc.

While browsing CNN.com and Time.com I stumbled upon a surprising article that concerned something totally different. It was about a so-called Boy's Crisis and how boy's are supposedly lagging behind because of the new seemingly feminist view. It discussed the issue and in the end concluded that while there may seem a crisis to some, it is only a myth and it seems to exist because of changes that occurred since the people who talk about the crisis were young. Anyway, there were some pretty tasty pictures of some boys at a camp that seems like a lot of fun. There were a lot of activities that kids don't get to do these days, like swimming in a lake and getting mud all over themselves, archery, and other stuff that generally involved getting wet, dirty, or both.

I'd love to try this.

rather fit, don't you think? XD pity his face isn't shown.

rope swings only exist in idyllic places like where this camp is. everywhere else, they'd be banned because of potential hazards and the possibility of being sued for damages.

All pictures are from Time.com, and do NOTNOTNOT belong to me. not even a bit. at all.

Even when I don't intend to, I eventually end up looking at articles that talk about colleges, admissions, the current state of American education and the system, whatever. According to Time the time to begin spazzing is precisely now, the summer before junior year. It's the time to buck down and start researching, building up resumes and CVs, to think about what is possible and what's just a dream, to realize that hey, HarvardYalePrinceton aren't the only schools out there.

I got a flyer the other day from a private tutor. His fees are $220 an hour and he does 1.5-2 hour sessions. He included an article from the NYTimes in which a tutor recounted the summer he was flown to Champs-Elysees for 3 weeks to tutor some kids for 4 hrs a day. He lived in the kids' grandparents' empty luxury apartment and after tutoring, could do whatever he wanted. How rich do you have to be to be able to throw around that much money? In the Time article, it mentioned a college counselor was being paid $20k. Ridiculous! Maybe it's because I'm jealous. What would I do with that much money? Where would I go? So many things are out of reach because of monetary constraints but I'm aware that others have it worse off. Still, how can one work a job and still be the top athlete of the local circuit of whatever sport it is? Sounds impossible but there are still stories.

I'm wasting so much time looking at stuff like this and getting myself worked up. I know my grades aren't the worse but they could be so much better. I might ask for a tutor this year for math, but I hate asking for help. My average was around a B+, factoring in my dismal grade in gym, because of latenesses of all things, and my horrible math grade, I barely scraped the minimum to keep in the E class and I still might be demoted to H....at least Jackie also got a B but she's doing two sports...

I've had a headache all day and it's absolutely not helping at all

Wed, 08 Aug 2007 01:27:54 GMT

I find it really amusing that when I print-screen while Media Player Classic is playing, it also plays when I paste in MS Paint and Photoshop XD Unfortunately that means I can't use that method to make icons anymore.

Wed, 08 Aug 2007 01:14:59 GMT

just noticed that the last line of my last paragraph has two consecutive 'which's. oh well.

I went out the last two days to Chinatown intending to leave after lunch and look for the Strand and other stores......well, that didn't happen. Sometimes, the internet is a little too distracting. The weather was also terrible yesterday: muggy and hot like the weather in Taiwan before a hurricane someone described it. There are too many Taiwanese in NY that know Baba. That's Dad, not Grandma. It's interesting how the same syllables can mean something so different and similar: both family members but no one can say A = B.

Nothing today. I slept in....that is to say, I slept around 4.30 am or 5-ish am yesterday and woke up around 12 pm and got up at 2 pm.

There was an article in NY Mag. that I read yesterday about HP7 which I love because it totally tears DH apart. I'm so glad that someone else besides me sees the horrendous literary ....I can't even think of a word that begins to describe something that terrible.

It's here. It contains some rather funny descriptions and refers to some literary classics that I'd rather not recall because of their association to high school English classes. But having read those is a must if some of the interesting bits are to be understood. This is not one of them (for which you need to have read Oedipus Rex or Of Mice and Men): "her fictional sky was as purple and lumpy as a Quidditch stadium full of plums" (her = JKR). The author's referral to Harry's train station/crossroads/dead-but-not-dead episode is. It is described as "roughly the equivalent of Oedipus Rex’s tearing his eyes out, then stumbling across a wise old friend who tells him: “Hey, guess what, buddy? You know how you just killed your dad and slept with your mom, like the oracle predicted? Well, since you did it all with totally innocent love in your heart, it doesn’t count! Go tell your mom to untie that noose! And look, your eyes just grew back! All is well!”" That pretty much sums it up, I guess. It makes more sense if you've read the article.

Oh yeah, sam_storyteller just started a new epic fic that might redeem HP 7, particularly since he has chosen to pretend the epilogue doesn't exist.

And I wish that damn song would get out of my head!

Sat, 04 Aug 2007 00:43:31 GMT

It seems that having been trained to finish everything that is set before me, I am doomed to overeat. That is to say, it's not that I can't stop myself but rather I feel that sending anything back is wasteful. Although I live a life of waste, as a typical American, it seems to me a greater travesty to waste food than other things. That being said, I did absolutely nothing today except reading fanfiction and overeating at that one meal in Scobee's, which apparently has undergone some sort of makeover so that portion sizes are bigger, thus being the reason that I was unable to finish what was set before me despite eating to the point of bursting. The three or four glasses of water may also have had their part.

I wonder how long I can put off studying for the SAT Chem, which I desperately need to do better on the next time I take it, which will probably be in October.

On Mess

Wed, 01 Aug 2007 06:17:36 GMT

I expect, should a library collapse or implode or vomit or randomly stuff itself into a roughly 9' X 9' room, it would end up not unlike my room plus a dozen or so stuffed animals and a queen bed. CD players, wires, dust, tons of paper and books stacked precariously (I stumbled one day on a pile of paper and sliced my right big toe open; how often does that happen?), pens and pencils (both living and dead) scattered all over, bags and jackets and whatnot strewn all about the floor...

I really should clean it up....but just like socks inevitably get eaten by the dryer, those stacks will just rise up again.

Wed, 01 Aug 2007 04:51:56 GMT

First, to clear all questions my imaginary friends might have on the subject of my name, it is the result of flipping randomly through the Oxford American Dictionary, or at least a dictionary, and picking the word that appealed the most on the two open pages.

Secondly, the purpose of this journal is to give a name, if not a face, to any comments I leave on others' journals. Occasionally, private feelings that I do not trust to any but the anonymous whom are not acquainted with me may be relieved and expressed in this journal. Expect the typical angst, stupidity, and bad writing of an Asian-American high school junior who never quite got the hang of proper grammar and whose best friends are run-on sentences and sentence fragments. Oh yes, I also have a habit of lapsing into the use of 'we' rather than 'I', though God knows why.

On the use of God, it's merely a cultural inundation thing; I'm not religious at all. If I were pressed to name a religion, I would say, "My family's Buddhist," although it's only recently that my mom started getting more serious about it. East Asians are extremely pragmatic about religion: it's got it's good points but it won't ever put food into your mouth.

One question related to the feelings aforementioned: if one keeps things inside, do they eventually become tangible? That is, do they develop mass and volume, parasitically, the longer they stay inside and the more they are thought about or squashed, whichever may be done to them?

    Now, for the real introduction, without naming of names or revelation of too personal information: I am, as aforementioned, at the moment a high school junior, or will be for the '07-'08 school year. I attend Hunter College High School on the Upper East Side between 94th and 95th Streets and between Park and Madison Ave. I sing in the chamber choir, I "play" piano sporadically, I like art to be realistic although some abstract art is just too wonderful to reject, I used to enjoy school but sometime I started hating it, especially maths. The arts, history, and science are my favorite subjects although I don't do as well as I could. I abhor math although I should be good at it; too many years of having it being shoved down my throat I suppose. Now, I'm terrible at retaining it and I get horrible grades. Languages would be more fun if they actually used good textbooks; I mean, who uses Ecce Romani? I'd like more language choices too. P.E. is fun, although commuting in the morning's a bitch. Got a terrible grade because of latenesses. Still, why the hell is swimming a winter sport when kids with wet heads are more prone to headaches and other illnesses?

    I travel roughly an hour to an hour and a half by car and subway. My city's transportation systems really really really suck. If I took the bus, the entire trip would take more than two hours. I have an older brother who's college-bound to Embry-Riddel, which is some backwater aero/astro-nautic engineering college in Florida, near Cape Canaveral and a Nascar race track. Other than that, there's absolutely nothing around for miles. If all goes well, I won't have to see him too much for the next four to eight years. I hope that by the time my turn comes around, firstly that I'll actually graduate high school, secondly that I'll be able to pay my college tuition, thirdly I'll be able to get a good job.

I'll tell you something that I haven't told anyone else: I'm deathly afraid of failure and being left behind and made fun of. I also can't bear others touching me in certain ways. Of course anything sexual is among that but I mean also in ways that are quite normal, like brother/sister interaction...except I'm very uncomfortable around my brother and I always feel disgusted and dirty in a way. I get the most unpleasant feeling every time he touches me or waves his hands near me. It's just such a dirty disgusting unbearable feeling, if I could I would bathe myself in Purell every time. I HATEHATEHATEHATE him.