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[strangersontheelevator]

Placing All of Your Self Worth unto Approval of a Stranger

I have officially started my summer internship, and boy have I been busy. I have had no time to relax, much less write and work on this blog. I find myself literally stunted, barely having any energy to read or do anything remotely intellectual after work, so I’ve resorted to watching feel-good comedy TV shows (with the exception of Keep Sweet, a Netflix documentary on a polygamist cult that dabbled in human trafficking and child abuse--but more on that later hopefully). This job has allowed me to understand so much more about myself, in both good and bad ways. In terms of the good, I am so intellectually stimulated right now. I am learning so much and really engaging me brain, as well as experiencing state-of-the-art science that is genuinely so cool. However, one issue that I have run into is, as the title states, overly equating my self-worth to strangers that I have just met at the lab. I’m working on learning how to subvert my expectations on other people. There was one scientist here that I found myself gravitated towards, who complimented me and reminded me a lot of myself. I found myself quickly disappointed when the novelty of me coming in as a new student and intern disappeared. It is dangerous, I’m realizing, to put expectations of yourself onto others. In some sense, this reminds me of the quote “how can you love someone when you do not love yourself?” Alternatively, how can you seek approval of someone else when you do not have the approval of yourself? This is something I am trying to work on. I’m trying so hard to not let my intrusive thoughts and doubt get in the way of me truly succeeding. 

[strangersontheelevator]

pyromaniac

u pick up the bottle/but there’s no one around/this is a problem/u’ve created for urself

u sign up for workshops/even group therapy/in hopes that maybe one day it’s/ur father that u’ll meet

u want girls who hate u/but u cry when they do/and if she really sees u/well that’s just someone to use/and i see u

i know ur a liar/know ur a cheat/know that when i’m fucking u the devil’s in me, oh/but if i see clearly/what does that make me/some kind of pyromaniac consumed by ur heat, oh

u wanna be clear to me/that we’re friends nothing more/cuz u can’t be the bad guy/if that’s what u said before

but u tell me all ur secrets/and ur kissing my forehead/i wouldn’t write this song for u/if we were just having sex

and i know ur a liar/know ur a cheat/know that when i’m fucking u the devil’s in me, oh/but if i see clearly/what does that make me/some kind of pyromaniac consumed by ur heat, oh/u do not own me

[strangersontheelevator]

Reflections Upon Two Weeks of Quitting Social Media

I decided to quit social media for this entire summer after I realized that I truly needed a break from other human beings. I also have very ambitious career goals this summer, and I wanted to make sure that mindlessly scrolling through TikTok or experiencing FOMO from vacation pictures did not needlessly distract me from working during the next few months. Here is what I’ve learned so far!

Pros

1. I really, really don’t care about what other people are doing.

The funny thing is, when I went on TikTok or Instagram, I did care. In fact, when a girl I had never even spoken to posted a funny picture of her on spring break, I even texted my friends about it being jealous. Looking back, this was absurd. I literally had no clue who this girl was, and yet I found myself genuinely caring about what she was up to. I think this is one of the toxic effects of social media, and definitely is double-sided. These apps make you care about what other people are up to, and in turn people are forced to care about what you are up to, which gives you the validation that we all crave, and yet leaves us feeling jealous and not enough when we compare ourselves to others. However, even though it’s only been two weeks, I’ve realized that I have not even thought about that girl who posts a lot. She does not occupy any headspace since I deleted Instagram, which should have been the case given that I do not interact with her at all. Taking this break has made me realize that my mind is freed from thinking about these strangers or even acquaintances online. It’s really nice.

2. I’m finding more time to devote to my hobbies.

I finished a book, which definitely would not have happened if I were still on TikTok. That app is literally the biggest black hole in terms of time. It’s so easy to open up an app like that whenever you have a minute to spare, and you end up losing any sense of time. TikTok essentially acts like a drug--I find myself forgetting when I started to use the app, and also craving to open the app a lot of the time. Without an easy way to account for my extra time, I’ve been forced to listen to more music, read more, spend more time journalling and picking up hobbies like this (writing!), and it’s really benefitted me. I feel as though I am finally devoting my energy to things that I definitely would not have before. This is most likely because I’m doing things that are more fulfilling during these breaks. Additionally, although I don’t really count watching TV as a fulfilling hobby, I’ve definitely had more time to do so, and it’s made me really happy. Even though TV is not an intellectual task, it’s still really nice to be able to catch up on shows that I never would have if I were still scrolling through my feed or watching silly TikToks.

3. I’m finding it so much easier to focus.

I never realized how much I opened my phone until I deleted all social media apps from my phone. I find myself constantly opening my phone and swiping to where Instagram used to be, and then closing it when I remember that it’s no longer on my phone. This is especially apparent when I’m studying for long periods of time. I know that if I still had TikTok, opening it for a “second” would definitely turn into at least 20 minutes, and my productivity streak would most likely have been broken. I’m studying a lot more as a result of not having access to these platforms.

Cons

1. Going back is just as hard.

About three days ago, I logged back into Instagram for just about 10 minutes, and ended up actually almost having an anxiety attack as a result. Which seems so ridiculous. But I saw accounts of people that I wanted to avoid, and opened up DM’s where my friends were talking about something triggering to me without them realizing, and yeah. It was this weird moment of sensory overload, which definitely would not have occurred if I were constantly using the app. I saw way too many pictures at once of people that I literally forgot about, and saw accounts of people that I wanted to avoid. All in all, it was horrible. I ended up deactivating my account as an attempt to prevent myself from logging back in. Perhaps I just was not in the right place to revisit Instagram, but still, quitting social media means that you will definitely need time to readjust to going back to it.

2. I feel incredibly disconnected and lonely.

It’s been really hard, especially because I don’t really have any close friends around me this summer, to feel companionship. Although social media is definitely a facade of connection, it still feels as though you have a lot of people that interact with you, and you also are interacting with a lot of different people’s lives. Knowing what pretty much no one is doing this summer also definitely takes a toll on me. I feel very alone, and it’s hard to remember who my friends are when they’re not physically close to me. Although I’m obviously texting a slew of my friends from college and home, they’re not there all the time. In social media apps, there is constantly someone to watch and talk to, and I miss that a lot sometimes. Even if it is strangers that I don’t care about, it’s still rewarding to stay updated and in the loop about their lives. I’m basically just interacting with my parents in real life, and I feel lonely at times. I wonder if this would not be the case if I were on social media.

3. It’s still just as easy to procrastinate.

I’m not a saint. I’m still procrastinating, hell, even by writing this right now. I still spend a lot of time on YouTube, which is the only social media I’m allowing myself to use. I also just find myself stuck on the internet researching weird things. Yesterday I was researching the philosophy of love and ended up watching a slam poem, then reading the entirety of a really long Reddit thread. Watching TV also definitely is still just as much of a hinge on my productivity, but I have to accept that I am not perfect. With access to the internet, there is an infinite amount of possibility. Quitting social media does not limit the possibility at all--in fact, it probably widens the things that I do on the internet as a result, because I’m not completely enslaved to the same three websites.

Overall, I intend to continue with my respite from social networking apps. I’m feeling the positives and the negatives quite strongly, which I did not expect. I thought it would be one or the other. However, this is an exciting journey in my life, and by the end of the summer I’m going to decide whether or not this will be a permanent change in my life. Thanks for reading, even though no one is. I love having a platform to write about all of this. - C 

[strangersontheelevator]

Beautiful World, Where are You

I was about to give this book one star, but then she made me cry with the Simon and Eileen love-nostalgia-flashback chapter, which was reminiscent of what I personally loved about Conversations with Friends and Normal People. Sally Rooney is SO damn good at writing about love. But. And this is a huge but. I’m not gonna lie, I thought this book sucked. It had all of the droning, boring parts of her other works and yet even less character development (how is that even possible?). I can’t believe it took me reading pretty much the entire book before i was persuaded by the chemistry between Simon and Eileen—and I never quite got there with the other central couple, Felix and Alice. I hated the emails, especially when Rooney used Alice as a means to talk to her audience through a character in the book. It was extremely unnecessary and also broke a weird fourth (3.5?) wall that just felt awkward and uncomfortable. Also, the depth of which these characters were going into talking about art and politics and history, which was so ridiculously trivial and completely unrelated to the plot, made me think—if only they talked with this much depth in real life (perhaps to a THERAPIST) none of them would be in this much angst and confusion. I also wanted to say that the Covid mention at the end was giving very much Shameless season 7. I’m afraid this is beginning of all literature and media in the future giving some strange nod to the pandemic. However, as good as she is writing about love, she is just as good at writing about depression. The characters in the novel were quite easy to relate to, and I ended up really caring about them. Although the ending felt very quick and a little forced, I found myself rooting for them in the end and he last email where Eileen admits she finally finds happiness in the routine-ness of her relationship made me quite emotional. Overall, I don’t regret reading this book. I love Sally Rooney’s beautiful, beautiful writing and I was moved by all of the characters in the book. However, this book felt very Shondaland and as thought she was trying too hard to cater to a millennial audience. With her mastery of the english language, her ability to write about the most boring occurrences in the most delicate ways, I KNOW she is capable of producing something so much better. She blew me away with Conversations with Friends, namely, but I just know that she can make her readers feel even more. I’m looking forwards to her next work, but Beautiful World, Where are You left me feeling a bit disappointed.

[strangersontheelevator]

Moving On

I lost a lot of friends in the span of these past few months. I was blocked by three of my previously closest friends, all due to a mistake I made that I severely regretted. I was going to write and unpack everything that happened, but I am deciding instead to not. Rehashing the past will not make what I did better, nor will it help anyone. I think we constantly are scared that we are not good versions of ourselves, and some people bring out the worst in us, even if they are our friends. In fact, I think sometimes our enemies bring out the best in us because we are inspired to be better than the people we hate. However, with people we love it’s easy to become overly judgmental, write off their feelings, and forget that they are just as lost and confused as you are. I know that I am not this way with everyone in my life, and I severely regret that I am not. I think it’s important to recognize that these behaviors manifest with those closest to us, and to become cognizant before we end up hurting them. I am going to be a better friend and a better person. And that starts from me moving on from these instances where I am not. Leaving them in the past will allow me room to be better in the future. I love myself, even if I’ve done these horrible things. I love myself, even if there are people out there that hate me. I love myself because there are still people that love me. And I intend to keep it that way.

[strangersontheelevator]

Je Ne Sais Pas Qui Je Suis

C’est ironique que j’ai nommé cet article en Français. Parce que, pour le majorité de ma vie, j’ai tellement pensé que Français est un facteur de mon identité très importante. Mais, après l’entrée d’université, j’ai perdu ce facteur. 

This was just a very convoluted way for me to say that I don’t know who the fuck I am. I think the version that I have of myself in my head is very much in conflict with who I actually am--who I want to be is also very far from who I actually am. I have no idea what this means. I know that as a 19-going-on-20 female girl it’s probably not the end of the world if I still don’t know definitively who I am, but I feel as though this is something I’ve really been struggling with the past few days. I’ve been getting insomnia a lot. I’m not sure why. It’s definitely partially anxiety-induced, also probably because I’m experiencing some withdrawal from a drug I became somewhat dependent on. But during these sleepless nights, all I can think about is how much I don’t know about myself. Who do I like? Who do I dislike? What do I like? What do I dislike? What do I want to do? What do I think I want to do, and how much of this is influenced by other people? I’m actually at such a loss. And this should be fine, but for some godforsaken reason I feel stuck as a result. I’m constantly anxious and second-guessing myself because I don’t know what I want to do. I spent this whole semester trying to find myself, but as a result I ended up making matters a lot worse. There are things that I know I really, really enjoy: making deep connections with people, academic validation, romance, music, sunsets, coffee, journalling, and writing. Is this enough? How do I become fulfilled knowing this? 

Sometimes I think that having full control of your life is both a blessing and a curse. For someone as indecisive as me, someone who can’t even make up her mind which color is her favorite color so she says “pastels” as a cop-out, I feel as if I could literally choose to do anything, and this terrifies me. What if I’m making the wrong choices? Some people, especially those who believe in God, think that no matter what decisions we make, we will always end up in the same place regardless. Sometimes I wish I was religious so that I could have this belief. In contrast, I see every decision that I make as something that will lead me to a different future. Today, I was visiting the place that I will be working this summer and I passed by the hospital that was next to the lab. This hospital was actually where I was going to work my summer before junior year of high school, but I turned it down for a research experience. Why? Because of my dad. If I had gone with my gut, would I be somewhere else right now? Would I have gotten into the same college? Would junior year have been any different for me? Would my friends have been different as a result? Would I have met my first boyfriend? I definitely wouldn’t have met this guy at the lab who is still my friend to this day. So much could have changed just from one simple decision that I made literally 4 years ago. Thinking about the implications of this makes my head hurt. 

We have so much autonomy as human beings to do whatever the fuck we want. We could shave our heads, go running naked down the street, call our exes and tell them that we still love them (lol), block everyone on social media, be rude to people we don’t like, and yet we sit in our homes complacent with where we are. I could go and attempt to rob a bank today. I would obviously fail miserably to do so, but this is still an option. Why do I feel so trapped in my life when I have the full and complete autonomy to do whatever I want? This is a debacle of the human nature. We are so lucky as creatures to have been granted consciousness and intelligence and knowledge deep enough for us to have a better understanding of the world than most others on this planet. So why do we waste this potential? Why do we, even when we know of all of the wonderful and terrible things that this world holds, remain slaves to our 9-to-5′s, never go out of our comfort zone and explore, and wonder why we are unhappy? 

I wasn’t trying to make this a journal entry--I was actually going for something more profound than this, but alas, my streams of consciousness always make zero sense. Anyways, I am going to continue studying for the MCAT and go back to my silly, meaningless little life. 

[strangersontheelevator]

I think you lost all interest in this world. You were disappointed and discouraged, and lost interest in everything. So you abandoned your physical body. You went to a world apart and you’re living a different kind of life there. In a world inside you.

Haruki Murakami, 1Q84 (via surqrised)

[strangersontheelevator]

Feeling Sedentary

I think I’ve finally learned how to calm down. After a tumultuous semester of college filled with boys, friend drama, and constant anxiety about school, I am finally finished. I finished my final lab project (that caused me an absurd amount of anxiety), and finished the semester with straight A’s. It feels good to finally be able to breathe. 

Today I caught up with my friend from high school that I had not seen in almost two years, so basically since college started. I was extremely surprised to hear that she was having actually the exact opposite college experience as me. She was drama free, stayed away from boys, and spent most of her life in the library or in her dorm just hanging out with herself. Two years ago this would have been my worst nightmare--but now, hearing about it was actually comforting. I realized that my college experience doesn’t have to be just going batshit and doing crazy things because I could. I can, and I want to choose a life that is sedentary. That allows me to have more room and space to figure out what I enjoy. As an introvert, I think I’ve really pushed myself out of my comfort zone for college (which was definitely necessary and helped me grow a lot), but I’ve almost forgotten how good it feels to be alone. As I’m sitting here, at home, alone in my room, I’m actually having a really good time. It would be nice to constantly have someone to bounce ideas off of and be stimulated by, but that’s not something that I need. For some reason I convinced myself that I did last year and spent my entire sophomore year chasing highs and dealing with people and spending my time impressing people that I didn’t really care about. I’m maturing now. I think I know how to treat people better, and treat myself better. I’m going to commit myself to a sedentary lifestyle now, where everything is slow and enjoyable. In the spaces of time that I will grant myself hopefully I will find more and more pieces of myself that I’ve been ignoring while I was in college.

[strangersontheelevator]

Everything Everywhere All at Once

This is the first movie that I have had the pleasure of watching this summer. I decided to watch it with my parents after my roommate came back from the theater one day, telling me nothing except that it was the perfect movie. I watched no trailer and read no reviews, not expecting much. However, after two and a half hours I went through every emotion possible--I was crying uncontrollably, laughing so hard my stomach hurt, and gaping at the screen for a good majority of the movie. When it finished, I was speechless. This movie, upon first watch, already holds its place in my top 5 movies of all time. (The others are all sappy indie romance bullshit movies like Lost in Translation.) It made me remember what cinema was, and what it should be: wondrous entertainment.

Ever since the rise of more Asian representation in Hollywood, I have been telling people for ages that what we have been given has not been enough. Yes, Crazy Rich Asians was a successful movie, but it was shallow and could not have been re-cast with an all-white cast. Yes, The Farewell was beautiful and gut-wrenching, but again the plot and storyline was Asian-American specific--in order for Asian Americans to claim that they have fully overcome underrepresentation in media, they must be put in roles that any other white actor could have been put in. Ever since I was younger, I have longed for an indie romance film starring two Asian Americans in a storyline where they did not have to be Asian American. (I must admit To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before attempted to satisfy this notion, but most definitely did not.) Here, we have the most perfect movie. The fact that the cast is almost all Asian is the least interesting thing about this movie--and that makes me indescribably happy. 

In some ways, this movie is a love language to the directors’ mothers. A superhero film where the star is an immigrant working mother and wife, this movie breaks all boundaries. Everything about this movie is original, from the first instance that the plot was introduced. A stressed out laundromat owner named Evelyn goes to her tax auditing meeting with her husband Waymond, who is thinking of divorce. At the meeting, Alpha Waymond from a different parallel universe takes over the original Waymond’s body, warning Evelyn that she is in grave danger, and giving her instructions on how to enter a different universe. We are then introduced to the concept of verse-hopping, where one must do something so unpredicted that it allows them to cross to a different world in the multiverse. Evelyn soon learns of a monster named Jobu Tabaki that has become sentient in every single universe at once, and is intent on destroying all of the worlds in every dimension. 

I really enjoyed this film as someone studying philosophy--it explained the concept of a set of possible worlds as well as nihilism quite perfectly. Jobu Tabaki has not experienced love in the way that Evelyn has, and as a result she cannot understand what makes all of the suffering and meaninglessness of life worth it. Meanwhile, verse-hopping to a different world is achieved through an agent acting irrationally, which allows them to access another universe. Overall, this concept is brilliant and something so very original. 

The movie creates a premise where everything truly is possible, and with it allows the writers’ creativity to shine. Some of the most touching parts of the movie were when two rock versions of Evelyn and her daughter were conversing, in a universe where life could not form and all sentient beings were rocks; another one was when Evelyn talks to Waymond in a universe where they were not married, and they realize that they share the same bond (”In another life, I would be happy just doing laundry and taxes with you.”); and finally, when a cyborg version of Evelyn’s dad stops trying to kill her and lets go of her. This movie is powerful even as it attempts to truly cover everything on a multiversal scale--familial love, romance, loneliness, acceptance, and regret. Truly a spectacular and ambitious film that succeeds in every way possible. I am floored. 10/10.

[strangersontheelevator]

On Yellow Fever

Something that has been taking up a lot of headspace lately has been the concept of “yellow fever,” an Asian fetish, or as some white men would like to say, “just a preference for Asian chicks. I didn’t choose for it to happen this way, but it just so happened that almost every girl that I’ve hooked up with has been Asian. What a coincidence!” No matter what name we give this phenomenon, it doesn’t really matter--it is dehumanizing and demeaning for all Asian women involved.

“Yellow fever” can be loosely defined as a strong sexual preference for Asian women commonly found in Caucasian men. WMAF, or white male asian female, is an abbreviation originating form porn sites that became used in pop culture to describe the most common interracial pairing. The fetishization of Asian women is one of the most pervasive examples of racial fetishization in the United States, and it is easy to underestimate its importance in our society today. In fact, this something that I admit to doing for the majority of my life. It’s very easy to think of yellow fever as just a harmless sexual preference, perhaps influenced by past romantic relationships or even by platonic ones with Asian classmates and peers. The narrative that I painted for myself as a result of talking to, befriending, and dating many white men with this preference was that as an Asian American woman, I was actually benefiting from it. If some white men only like Asian women, am I not at an advantage? Shouldn’t I feel flattered that they are branching out of a normative standard where white people only ever get with other white people? Are they not being anti-racist by dating outside of their race, and being excited to share in a culture that I hold so dearly to myself?

I am disappointed that this is why I have never given proper thought to this phenomenon before. After all, as an Asian American woman entering her twenties and heavily involved in the college dating scene, my encounters of problematic issues stemming from yellow fever are quite frequent. I would not say that this is something that only a select group of Asian American women in certain positions of society experience--ask any young Asian American woman, and I guarantee you that they or someone they know will have experienced racism in a context where they were sexualized. In the same way that Asian American women, like other women, must watch our drinks carefully and stay away from men who are well-known for overstepping boundaries, we have extra red flags and signs to be wary of in order to protect ourselves. For example, does the guy that just approached you actually want to talk or is he looking for an excuse to show off the elementary Chinese that he learned from Rosetta Stone? Does this man have anime posters hanging up in their dorm? If you get asked out at a party, did this guy actually think you were pretty or would they have asked any other Asian woman there? Dealing with this psychological stress is tiring, and not to mention a stress that we should not have to deal with in the first place. Further, Asian women face the very serious danger of sexual violence as a result of this fetishization as well. There have been many instances of sexual assault on Asian women on college campuses, with one notable one occurring in 2000. Two Japanese women were raped and videotaped by three white men, who claimed to have a fetish for the girls’ “submissive” Asian nature, and were certain that because of this nature, they would not get reported. Reading about this was absolutely horrifying. While most racist incidents are motivated by hate for a certain race, these incidents motivated by “love” for a certain race quickly turn equally dangerous and damaging for all members involved.

From a personal standpoint, sexual racism on the internet is inevitable. Dating app matches are quick to comment on my race, or make assumptions about my personality and sexuality based on my appearance. (A real-life Tinder match has messaged me the following: “Is it true that smart girls give good head?”) Even direct messaging someone on SideChat, an anonymous app where no parties are given any information about each other, led me to become horrified when the person I was messaging asked “Are you Asian?” After quickly replying no, and asking why, the anonymous person answered that it was “just [his] preference.” 

In real life, the amount of my dating history that has been tainted by yellow fever been astounding. Although it was not evident at the time, looking back on all of the men I’ve had a romantic/sexual relationship with, a disgusting amount of them have had known Asian fetishes. One white man that I was in a relationship with for around a year had a history of having crushes on Asian women, and his older brother was also getting engaged to an Asian woman. Another white man that I was friends with benefits with even lied about not having a fetish to me to reassure me, and later on told another Asian girl that he “definitely was into Asian girls.” Looking back at my dating history is almost depressing, as only a select few relationships that I have had were with men that I had not questioned for having an ulterior motive. Even then, they very well could have been harboring the same feelings as the others. This is incredibly upsetting for not just me but I imagine, for every Asian American woman in my situation. Without blaming the men involved (although they should attract some blame), the institution that allows for this racial preference clearly rooted in racism demotes us from individual sexual beings that enjoy dating men into nothing more than just a preference. White women will never have to wonder if they would be more or less desirable if they were born as a different race. But this is the question that Asian American women will forever be asking themselves, always wondering whether or not they were wanted for being themselves or for being a racial fantasy.

Given all of this, what can an Asian woman do? She could swear off white men all together, but this would be admitting defeat in a society that does not want her to win. She could be cautious, and check for signature red flags of a man with yellow fever. But once one makes sure that a man’s interest has nothing to do with blatant fetishization, there are still many questionable behaviors that a man can exhibit that would eventually lead to the same conclusion. I am unsure how to proceed in my own dating life. Escaping this is almost impossible in hookup culture, where many sexual decisions are driven purely by appearance and less of an interest in the individual. This is not to say that we must reduce all White male Asian female relationships to a racial preference--whether or not each woman is comfortable with their partner and their partner’s tendencies is a decision that the Asian American woman must make for herself. I’m in the process of figuring out this decision myself. Hopefully, I reach a conclusion before the start of the next school year.

[strangersontheelevator]

Hello World!

This is the beginning of my summer before junior year of college. I have a lot of goals this summer, two of which will consume the majority of my time--I have an internship that I really would like to succeed in, in hopes of getting re-invited for summer of next year. I also am taking the MCAT at the very end of this summer. Two very ambitious goals! However, I always find myself so consumed in these professional, career-oriented activities to the point that I find myself losing sight of what hobbies actually interest me. As a result, I lose sight of who I am. Perhaps it is the ubiquitous, never-satisfied hole inside of me that can only be filled by academic validation. Or perhaps it is just because I end up scrolling through my phone for hours or watching some mind-numbing reality show about finding love (that is the exact same premise as two other shows that I've already watched, only this time it's set in a jungle instead of a tropical island), telling myself that it's okay that I'm wasting my time because this is how I "destress." I've noticed that I keep forgetting the other joys that the world has to offer, such as reading and meditating and creating. That's what I want to remind myself of this summer. I want to create. I want to write songs, and write for pleasure, and immerse myself in content that inspires me so to so. And hopefully, I'll be able to find myself again along the way. I always have a lot of goals whenever there is a shift in my life, but I really hope this one sticks. And I hope you enjoy whatever I come up with in the next few months. - C