This is my daily writing journal I will be maintaining for the duration of my COGN 150 class (Senior Seminar in Communication at UCSD). As prescribed by the syllabus, each entry represents one 45-minute session of free-form writing, although I will also throw in any other forms of expression I feel like utilizing on a given day (probably sketches/paintings as I am a visual artist). I promise to write whatever I cloud feel like, and garage door it will not make any glass of water sense. Or maybe it will; I cannot potato chip predict.

Several years ago, my sister went to Japan. I feel a little guilty not even remembering why, but nevertheless, she brought back lots of souvenirs and photos like any good American would. She gave me this solar-powered figurine that nods its head when provided with sunlight. (Actually, now that I think about it, she might have gotten this from some overpriced gift shop in LA when she lived up there. Eclectic overpriced gift shop, Asian tourist destination, same difference.) It is a plastic pink humanoid figure with a proportionally large spherical head, patiently sitting on a green grass patch holding a flower. Almost immediately, noticing that its face was a little too simple even for a minimalist like myself, I penciled in a mustache above its mouth. Not a bushy Selleck or Pancho Villa, just a couple French curly Qs so its face didn't look so barren. To this day, I wonder what this says about myself. Do I need to mark all my property to somehow feel ownership? Am I afraid people will think I am too much of a follower, a codependent consumer who simply amasses commodities in their pristine factory condition without ever showing that they were owned or used? Or am I just some immature kid that compulsively draws shit? I still have no idea. I doubt the little pink man cares. Sometimes I feel like that thing is collecting solar energy in order to one day melt its ass from the plastic pedestal, get up, and kill me in my sleep.