Down memory lane.....
So, I've started listening to old songs from way back again. Haven't really thought about old classmates and friends though, at least not more than a quick where are they now bubble. Think I just wanted to make sure I am still myself. I prefer to move forward, but at the same time, I don't want to shed all my layers completely. I mean, I'd like to think that I'm still the same girl I was a decade ago, albeit a bit less reserved and slightly more fashionable. Nothing wrong with change but it would be weird to wake up one day and realize you're a completely different person than you had been so and so years ago - even if the changes were gradual. Perhaps it's because I've reached another milestone. Perhaps it's because the current world of rock n pop has begun to dwindle again. Or maybe I just miss those old songs, because they still sound darn good.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Monday, November 10, 2008
=x
Let it be known, that:
I will be strong,
I won't be silly,
I will survive,
And walk sans frills.
Marshmallow Fudge
I will be strong,
I won't be silly,
I will survive,
And walk sans frills.
Marshmallow Fudge
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Autumn Dilemma
Ah Fall, the beginning of Primetime Series and Sports Season - a couch potato's dream. Speaking of which, in sports, when a colored flag or card is shown, people take heed. Yellow = foul, red = dismiss. It's particularly unrelenting in Soccer, where a red card not only means out, but no replacement either. Then why is it that in real life, one hesitates amidst the same warnings. On the last count, 4 flags of mine have been raised (3 yellow; 1 red). The yellows, I can handle, but the red should have been a direct sign to steer clear. Perhaps it is because, in spite of the tendency to prefer whole numbers, we still think in fractions. So really, I only see 3+ flags (2 1/2 yellow; 3/4 red). Terrible.
On an unrelated note, I asked for a sign and got one. Yet I'm not thrilled as I imagined I would be. In fact, just thinking about it makes me more sad. There was a flutter of delight when I first realized it, but not like before. Perhaps it was too simple, as I reckoned the flair of the end product would be directly proportional to the length of the wait. Perhaps it was my surrounding and mood. Either way, I refuse to even consider that I have moved on, especially not for a would be fling.
On an unrelated note, I asked for a sign and got one. Yet I'm not thrilled as I imagined I would be. In fact, just thinking about it makes me more sad. There was a flutter of delight when I first realized it, but not like before. Perhaps it was too simple, as I reckoned the flair of the end product would be directly proportional to the length of the wait. Perhaps it was my surrounding and mood. Either way, I refuse to even consider that I have moved on, especially not for a would be fling.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
S.A.M.
Who is my Secrect Asian Man you ask? Drum roll: Funny, cuz I wonder as well. Oh! Well, it's partially true. You see, I have a back-up. You know, that person you get along with, whom you wouldn't mind shacking up with for the rest of your half life. Only, come to think about it, I haven't seen or heard from him for ages. College to be exact - the early years. Furthermore, he was more like my One than my other one.
I first met him in Fourth Grade. We went to the same school and per chance, bumped into each other one long, fateful day. He was in love with a new girl whose family had just moved to town. We had a nice heart to heart where I learned pretty much every ounce of detail about him that I could draw out. Those bits of conversation are the only things I can accurately recall from that day. After a good length of time, we decided he should profess his love for her, shook hands and sealed our friendship. Er, well, I think he more or less patted me on the shoulder and said, "Thanks for listening. See ya around kid." Or something to that effect.
Ever so often, I did see him around campus and sometimes on the way home from school. He would smile and wave. And I would wave back, frantically, quite ecstatic that a Junior High student took notice of me. Eventually, I came round to meeting this girl he was still crushing on. She was very charming and friendly as he had introduced me as his Lil Sis. He was preppy and clean-cut, while she sported the trendy spirals of a popular perm. They looked so good together; he handsome, she adorable. It took them awhile to get together, but it was inevitable and for the next couple of years, I both admired and aspired to their level of passionate, innocent love. Then they entered High School and I was left behind, still full of regard for my perfect couple.
One day in Sixth Grade, while wandering off on an especially uncaptivating lecture, I thought about Sam and that long talk on that one afternoon. The more I thought about him, the more I realized that he was the ideal man for me. This was more than a crush. I liked everything about him. The way he looked, the way he dressed, his mannerism, even his flaws. In fact, his flaws made him more desirable - like a hero with conflicted ideals. I admired the commaderie between him and his boys. It was cute that he pined for his girl and beat himself up when he did something that made her angry. I especially adored his passion for academics and community service and how he struggled to juggle them because he could not whole-heartedly devote himself to one without neglecting the other. Even the slight crookedness of his smile was captivating.
It wasn't until Ninth Grade that I finally saw him again. I was devastated to learn that he and Lan were on a break. Her family had moved back to their hometown and the distance was a daunting obstacle - this being the pre-cellular age and all. At the same time, I felt shamefully hopeful that I might have a chance to step into her role. Thus, I was elated when he spotted me at the Spring Fling and asked me to dance with him. And for a long time, that was the only moment I enjoyed dancing with the opposite sex. Shortly after that, he would graduate and leave my bubble, but not before half jokingly proposing to be my back-up. If memory serves me correctly, the conversation went like this: Hey, remember last week on [some show where some character] talked about having a back-up if they don't get married by 30? Well, maybe we can do that. You're not that much younger than me, so if we don't meet anyone in college, then it'll be you and me. How about it? Um, okay. I guess so. Yeah, when we're old, like when we're 30. Smile and nod. How happy was I? I cannot, however, for the life of me remember the show that sparked this idea.
And then it was three long years in high school without him. Threes are much more terrible than twos. But I was optimistic and I held out for him even though I did not have to. Even though I knew he would not have wanted me to. I held on to that vague promise throughout University. I would have sporadic dreams about him, us, which only inflated my hope even more so. And I only saw him once during that entire period.
It was Sophomore year, I think. He remembered where I lived and passed by my parent's house while visiting friends. As luck would have it, I happened to be home that weekend and we took a walk downtown to catch up on the each other's lives. He was taller than I remembered. Much more mature and as handsome as ever. I felt like a kid next to him. That same Elementary School kid looking up at a, now, cool young adult. Of course, he told me that he and Lan were back together again, and I was quite happy for them. They really do make a good couple. I didn't have to curb my disappointment because I was stoked that I got to see him again. It was just a quick chat as we both had plans. We exchanged dorm stories and he gave me some pointers on surviving college. Then we parted and I have been kicking myself for not getting his contact info. I didn't have a cell phone yet, but we certainly could have swapped emails. Nevertheless, I have faith that he will be able to seek me out when he returns. Afterall, my parents still live in the same spot.
But now, I am quickly approaching that magical number and wondering if anything will happen or if I have been a fool for waiting this long. This was, afterall, supposed to be a second thought. A fall back plan gone awry, sucking up a good portion of my time in the process. As a result, I have only half-heartedly flung myself into the dating scene every now and then. Particularly, at moments when the string I'm gripping onto is so thin that it appears invisible. People think it is apathy towards marriage or the male of the species, but in truth, I'm just holding back. Just like when one is out shopping for the latest electronic toy. You want to make sure it's the latest one with all the specs you could possibly want, even if you don't need it, because there is that faint chance you may use it later. I want options but I also do not want to settle.
I first met him in Fourth Grade. We went to the same school and per chance, bumped into each other one long, fateful day. He was in love with a new girl whose family had just moved to town. We had a nice heart to heart where I learned pretty much every ounce of detail about him that I could draw out. Those bits of conversation are the only things I can accurately recall from that day. After a good length of time, we decided he should profess his love for her, shook hands and sealed our friendship. Er, well, I think he more or less patted me on the shoulder and said, "Thanks for listening. See ya around kid." Or something to that effect.
Ever so often, I did see him around campus and sometimes on the way home from school. He would smile and wave. And I would wave back, frantically, quite ecstatic that a Junior High student took notice of me. Eventually, I came round to meeting this girl he was still crushing on. She was very charming and friendly as he had introduced me as his Lil Sis. He was preppy and clean-cut, while she sported the trendy spirals of a popular perm. They looked so good together; he handsome, she adorable. It took them awhile to get together, but it was inevitable and for the next couple of years, I both admired and aspired to their level of passionate, innocent love. Then they entered High School and I was left behind, still full of regard for my perfect couple.
One day in Sixth Grade, while wandering off on an especially uncaptivating lecture, I thought about Sam and that long talk on that one afternoon. The more I thought about him, the more I realized that he was the ideal man for me. This was more than a crush. I liked everything about him. The way he looked, the way he dressed, his mannerism, even his flaws. In fact, his flaws made him more desirable - like a hero with conflicted ideals. I admired the commaderie between him and his boys. It was cute that he pined for his girl and beat himself up when he did something that made her angry. I especially adored his passion for academics and community service and how he struggled to juggle them because he could not whole-heartedly devote himself to one without neglecting the other. Even the slight crookedness of his smile was captivating.
It wasn't until Ninth Grade that I finally saw him again. I was devastated to learn that he and Lan were on a break. Her family had moved back to their hometown and the distance was a daunting obstacle - this being the pre-cellular age and all. At the same time, I felt shamefully hopeful that I might have a chance to step into her role. Thus, I was elated when he spotted me at the Spring Fling and asked me to dance with him. And for a long time, that was the only moment I enjoyed dancing with the opposite sex. Shortly after that, he would graduate and leave my bubble, but not before half jokingly proposing to be my back-up. If memory serves me correctly, the conversation went like this: Hey, remember last week on [some show where some character] talked about having a back-up if they don't get married by 30? Well, maybe we can do that. You're not that much younger than me, so if we don't meet anyone in college, then it'll be you and me. How about it? Um, okay. I guess so. Yeah, when we're old, like when we're 30. Smile and nod. How happy was I? I cannot, however, for the life of me remember the show that sparked this idea.
And then it was three long years in high school without him. Threes are much more terrible than twos. But I was optimistic and I held out for him even though I did not have to. Even though I knew he would not have wanted me to. I held on to that vague promise throughout University. I would have sporadic dreams about him, us, which only inflated my hope even more so. And I only saw him once during that entire period.
It was Sophomore year, I think. He remembered where I lived and passed by my parent's house while visiting friends. As luck would have it, I happened to be home that weekend and we took a walk downtown to catch up on the each other's lives. He was taller than I remembered. Much more mature and as handsome as ever. I felt like a kid next to him. That same Elementary School kid looking up at a, now, cool young adult. Of course, he told me that he and Lan were back together again, and I was quite happy for them. They really do make a good couple. I didn't have to curb my disappointment because I was stoked that I got to see him again. It was just a quick chat as we both had plans. We exchanged dorm stories and he gave me some pointers on surviving college. Then we parted and I have been kicking myself for not getting his contact info. I didn't have a cell phone yet, but we certainly could have swapped emails. Nevertheless, I have faith that he will be able to seek me out when he returns. Afterall, my parents still live in the same spot.
But now, I am quickly approaching that magical number and wondering if anything will happen or if I have been a fool for waiting this long. This was, afterall, supposed to be a second thought. A fall back plan gone awry, sucking up a good portion of my time in the process. As a result, I have only half-heartedly flung myself into the dating scene every now and then. Particularly, at moments when the string I'm gripping onto is so thin that it appears invisible. People think it is apathy towards marriage or the male of the species, but in truth, I'm just holding back. Just like when one is out shopping for the latest electronic toy. You want to make sure it's the latest one with all the specs you could possibly want, even if you don't need it, because there is that faint chance you may use it later. I want options but I also do not want to settle.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Heritage vs. Diversity
So I realized that my family is straying more and more away from our Teo Chew roots. When I was little, Chinese was my primary language at home and English was always secondary. Vietnamese was negligible, even though it was my parents' adopted tongue and was constantly used when relatives gathered on the weekends. Like other Teo Chew families in our community (at least I imagine) our food, outlook, and mannerism were steep in Chinese culture, and heavily accented by our TC heritage. Sometimes, we would reach out to our host countries (current and former) by sampling their cuisine and entertainment options in an attempt to show our appreciation for their hospitality. But they would remain foreign entities in our hearts and mind. Even our fellow Cantonese neighbors were set aside for weekend indulgences (except for tv and film since TC ones are virtually non-existence). We were raised the Teo Chew way and set up to maintain and pass on that state of existing.
But that seemed like eons ago. Mom no longer cooks stictly TC food, or even regularly. We still eat Chinese food daily, but gone are the nuances and embelishments that separate them from other Asian households. It is quite sad to realize that my younger siblings will not be able to pick out a TC dish from among dozens of Cantonese ones. English has assumed itself as the dominant tongue with Vietnamese a close second. Darn those Romans and their Alphabets! I feel quite helpless in my futile quest to keep our language alive as I can see my vocabulary crumbling and withering away as I attempt to raise its usage. The social aspect of TC life is not much better either. We attend the Temple and shop at TC owned markets out of habit more so than mere appreciation or enjoyment. We've stop frequenting TC restaurants and shops because we no longer feel the urgency to be loyal and dutiful even though our loyalty is being challenge more so at this moment than a decade ago. Even friends with TC roots are being tossed assunder as we embrace the new and exciting key marks of unfamiliar cultures. I, myself, have tried being more receptive to acquainances who are TC, but novelty wears off once the dust begins to settle.
Somewhere along the way, TC became 'Tentatively Chinese.' Perhaps, it was the separation from the Teo Chew enclave. Perhaps it was the departures of the elderly. Perhaps it was the impact of multiple assimilations and the general apathy of the first generation. Somehow, we allowed ourselves to be engulfed in the melting pot of America and undistinguishable from our fellow Countrymen. We can call ourselves Chinese Americans, but we cannot be truly Teo Chew and American at the same time without losing a piece of each in the compromise. Such is the price for freedom of thought and the flourishment of diversity. Whether this price is large or small, depends stictly on which side of the line we find ourselves on at any given moment.
But that seemed like eons ago. Mom no longer cooks stictly TC food, or even regularly. We still eat Chinese food daily, but gone are the nuances and embelishments that separate them from other Asian households. It is quite sad to realize that my younger siblings will not be able to pick out a TC dish from among dozens of Cantonese ones. English has assumed itself as the dominant tongue with Vietnamese a close second. Darn those Romans and their Alphabets! I feel quite helpless in my futile quest to keep our language alive as I can see my vocabulary crumbling and withering away as I attempt to raise its usage. The social aspect of TC life is not much better either. We attend the Temple and shop at TC owned markets out of habit more so than mere appreciation or enjoyment. We've stop frequenting TC restaurants and shops because we no longer feel the urgency to be loyal and dutiful even though our loyalty is being challenge more so at this moment than a decade ago. Even friends with TC roots are being tossed assunder as we embrace the new and exciting key marks of unfamiliar cultures. I, myself, have tried being more receptive to acquainances who are TC, but novelty wears off once the dust begins to settle.
Somewhere along the way, TC became 'Tentatively Chinese.' Perhaps, it was the separation from the Teo Chew enclave. Perhaps it was the departures of the elderly. Perhaps it was the impact of multiple assimilations and the general apathy of the first generation. Somehow, we allowed ourselves to be engulfed in the melting pot of America and undistinguishable from our fellow Countrymen. We can call ourselves Chinese Americans, but we cannot be truly Teo Chew and American at the same time without losing a piece of each in the compromise. Such is the price for freedom of thought and the flourishment of diversity. Whether this price is large or small, depends stictly on which side of the line we find ourselves on at any given moment.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Update on Elle
In case you're wondering, why so much time has lapse....well much has happened, and even more has not.
I took a break from work to indulge in a nice relaxing vacation, got lazy, met new people, hung out with old friends, injured myself, and got reacquainted with my other half. Not necessarily in this order. To sum it up, let's just say it has been a rollercoaster of a season and what better way to celebrate it than at the happiest place on Earth, hah? Hah?
Seriously though, I was very happy for a period and then extremely sad for an equal amount of time. I guess when you're that high up, any fall will feel extra hard. Now I'm just riding the tide back and forth. I knew this would be a rough year, but I was really hoping to defy the Fates. As if that's not bad enough, the year's still quite fresh and full. This will definitely be an "interesting" year.
So what else is new? I am in danger of becoming a hypocrite which also happens to be one of my pet peeves. The mighty Gods have presented me with a new test of life. This time, it appears that my conviction is on the line. The problem is, I am not sure which part is the actual test. Do I stand my ground and refuse the temptation as I have constantly told myself I would do, should I ever be presented with this type of challenge? Or would this not go away until I step up to the plate and engage in the game? I want to be strong and go with my original plan, but at the same time, I like playing with fire. I just don't want to get burned or injure the other parties involved. Such difficult choices. And all I wanted was to have some fun. No strings, no guilt. Maybe I'm just not that kind of girl.
Anyhoo, on a lighter note.........
Random thought of the month: Strawberries taste like tongue.
I took a break from work to indulge in a nice relaxing vacation, got lazy, met new people, hung out with old friends, injured myself, and got reacquainted with my other half. Not necessarily in this order. To sum it up, let's just say it has been a rollercoaster of a season and what better way to celebrate it than at the happiest place on Earth, hah? Hah?
Seriously though, I was very happy for a period and then extremely sad for an equal amount of time. I guess when you're that high up, any fall will feel extra hard. Now I'm just riding the tide back and forth. I knew this would be a rough year, but I was really hoping to defy the Fates. As if that's not bad enough, the year's still quite fresh and full. This will definitely be an "interesting" year.
So what else is new? I am in danger of becoming a hypocrite which also happens to be one of my pet peeves. The mighty Gods have presented me with a new test of life. This time, it appears that my conviction is on the line. The problem is, I am not sure which part is the actual test. Do I stand my ground and refuse the temptation as I have constantly told myself I would do, should I ever be presented with this type of challenge? Or would this not go away until I step up to the plate and engage in the game? I want to be strong and go with my original plan, but at the same time, I like playing with fire. I just don't want to get burned or injure the other parties involved. Such difficult choices. And all I wanted was to have some fun. No strings, no guilt. Maybe I'm just not that kind of girl.
Anyhoo, on a lighter note.........
Random thought of the month: Strawberries taste like tongue.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Myths About Elle: Food
***
How well do people really know you?
My friends can finish my thoughts and My siblings can predict my reactions, and yet, they wouldn't be able to tell you who my favorite actor is, or which food I prefer or rather just the opposite. Having known my close knit crew intimitely for a long time now, some things go without saying. And then, there are those "other" trivial tidbits that have gone un-noticed. As the list is a growing one, I will just touch on the singular subject of food.
How well do people really know you?
My friends can finish my thoughts and My siblings can predict my reactions, and yet, they wouldn't be able to tell you who my favorite actor is, or which food I prefer or rather just the opposite. Having known my close knit crew intimitely for a long time now, some things go without saying. And then, there are those "other" trivial tidbits that have gone un-noticed. As the list is a growing one, I will just touch on the singular subject of food.
Caffeine
Myth: Elle does not drink coffee.
Myth: Elle cannot handle caffeine
Truth: So far away. Being Chinese, tea is never more than a sip away. Having grown up in Vietnam, I thrive on French Roast. I can't even remember my first sip of coffee because I was so young. My parents often reminisce that I drank cupfuls by the time I was 4. Don't believe it? Just consider my stature. Ask anyone - I'm the shortest one in the family.
Origin: I used to drink tea everyday and coffee on weekends. Then I got to college and only had time for tea once a week and coffee once a month. Not adjusting well to often haphazard schedule of University life, it became increasingly hard to get up. At the same time, I began feeling numb to the effects of caffeine. And so, I gave it up. Eventually, the dominating traces of the drug was flushed out of my system and I was no longer immune to the effects from occasional indulgences. It wasn't until the invasion of Boba-mania that tea slowly crept back into my life. Coffee however remains over-priced and less forgivable.
Dairy
Myth: Elle cannot eat cheese
Truth: Elle is only somewhat lactose intolerant.
Origin: I say "no" to certain cheeses. They see that I'm Asian and have trouble downing milk (sometimes) - thus, a convenient lie is born. I actually have more success with cheese than milk, but it is just easier to tell people that I can't digest hard or crumbly cheeses.
Real Truth: I can't get past the stench of hard cheeses like Parmesan and I don't like the texture of Feta. Bleu Cheese encompasses both qualities so I try to stay as far away from it as possible.
Dessert
Myth: Elle likes sweet stuff
Truth: Whoever believes that obviously has not seen me scrape the excess icing off my donuts. Don't get me wrong. I like dessert, just not overly sweet ones. Hence, I prefer Asian cakes and plain donuts.
Origin: I have been caught on numerous occasions, oggling the dessert menu. What can I say? The pictures are pretty. And if someone insists, I'm not going say no.
Alcohol
Myth: Elle enjoys social drinking
Truth: I do not enjoy the taste of wine and spirits. The conspicous glow of my Asian Flush is not encouraging either. Bottom line: Wine gives me a headache, cheap liquor makes me nauseous, and beer tastes bitter (though I do have a higher tolerance for bitter foods than I used to, making this my current drink of choice).
Origin: I like looking at pretty cocktails too. I also enjoy the smell of wine and the way it enhances savory food. I drink on special occasions to join in on the good cheer, but my willingness to partake shouldn't be mistaken for delectation.
So how well do you know your peeps?
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