After a long period of exceptional laziness when I basically lived out the life of a hibernating bear, when the most productive thing I did in the span of an entire day was chew some food... I finally decided to not further waste away my life, and actually DO something. So earth-shattering it's shocking.
My best bet? Put the piece of paper I got from my university to good use... by that I mean turn it over and brainstorm on the backside... OR use it to apply for a job. Hard choice, but I was pressured into the latter. Indeed, four years of studying is not a total waste after all! It got me an interview at a private lab company!
Interviews are disgusting. I despise them. It's all about pretenses and facades, all to try to sell yourself. I suppose it's a necessary evil... like government... but still, I hate it. Nevertheless, I donned a fresh suit, crisp shirt, put on my lady heels, did my hair nice, painted my face, and hobbled to the office.... all in the hopes that my first impression would be a hire-me impression. I tried to sound competent, I nodded a lot, furrowed my eyebrows as if his words were the most innovative thing I've heard in all my life. To much my surprise, it worked. Who knew?! I should flatter myself and say that I was hired due to my overwhelmingly qualified abilities and exceptional charm. But, I know better than to think that... I was hired because lab rats are easy to train, and I am a trained lab rat. :)
I'm excited to do something new, to be productive, and to learn. I'm excited to contribute something, even if it's to some bigger corporate company where my existence equals that of plankton. I'm excited to meet new people, and learn new gossips.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Elizabeth Tailor
I have two older sisters, and the greatest tragedy we three see in our relationship is the terrible fact that we each are a different size. Even in shoes! In an ideal situation, three sisters should be able to triple each others' closet size... naturally. Not so much. My oldest sister is most womanly, my middle sister used to be no bigger than my pinkie, and I'm somewhere in the middle. Such a tragedy indeed.
Anyhow, I had helped my oldest sister clean out her closet. In the process, I managed to get her to admit her addiction with shopping and her high affinity for pants. (The first step is admitting the problem, right?) I also managed, to my great surprise & hers, to find some of her old pants that were actually decent on me! It looked like it only needed to be taken in some at the waist. They were too nice to be thrown out, but too small for her to ever fit again. We figured that it would make much more sense for me to get them altered, then if I went out and bought new pants... as I'd probably have to get those altered as well. Oh the woes of being a girl... blech.
We got to the tailor with my bag of pants... she was a friend of my sister, and supposedly super talented. We gossiped on the way there, and my sister warned me that Elizabeth, the tailor, was very tiny. In her own words, she said Elizabeth was only slightly bigger than my 6 year old niece.... a gross exaggeration, but it made us laugh like hyenas in the car.
When we got in the shop, the front desk was empty, so we just waited. Then out of the corner of my eye, I spied a figure emerging from a room... and I was sure my eyes bugged out of my head. It was a guttural reaction... at meeting someone so small. At most she could be 4'7... give or take an inch. She's also nearing 50, minus one or two years. Her body certainly doesn't show her age, and her face is very beautiful. She carried her long black hair with great pride, you can tell... from the way she swished them about.
As I stood there to be pinned and tucked, I thought: here was a woman who greatly valued youth. Her height, or lack thereof, had actually become an asset. She couldn't change what genes she inherited, so she embraced them and made the best of the situation. Her face was taut. Her hair was long and shiny. Aside from genetics, what really convinced me of her devotion to youth was the way she dressed. She glided about almost weightlessly in what I imagine can be girl's jeans, folded up at the hem line. She wore a bubble gum pink & white striped thin sweater, which is not unlike one of the shirts I've bought for my niece. In the dead of winter, she had simply flip flops on her feet... with some socks. I'm positive that a stranger who saw Elizabeth from the back would no doubt mistaken her for a 13 year old girl. The kicker is not how young Elizabeth could pass for; the true kicker is that Elizabeth gets a kick out of such situation!
I think she's one of the few Asian people I know whose age has not catch up with her youth. I think in her old age, she will still be mistaken for a young girl, if not by her natural looks then by the way she presents herself. That's something to be proud of, I suppose. Women all over the world want to keep their youth as long as possible. We slather stuff on our faces, pop pills, inject toxins in the lines, pump our lips with butt fat, spackle on the make-up... all in the hopes of stemming the aging process. Who doesn't want to look younger?! Seriously!
At 23, I don't have many woes of aging... just yet. I do play with makeup & what not because it makes me feel pretty. But I can't help but see an incongruity in Elizabeth... a 40-something woman who could pass for a teen. Somehow that doesn't seem all that glamorous to me. When I'm 40-something, I would consider it a compliment when someone tells me I look great... maybe I'd blush when they think I'm a few years younger than I actually am. I think I would actually turn tomato red and be completely mortified if at that age, someone stops me in the store and asks me if I'm allowed to be there without my parents. Youth is awesome. But being carded past a certain age is just ridiculous. But that's just me.
I get my pants back in a few weeks. I hope they fit.
Anyhow, I had helped my oldest sister clean out her closet. In the process, I managed to get her to admit her addiction with shopping and her high affinity for pants. (The first step is admitting the problem, right?) I also managed, to my great surprise & hers, to find some of her old pants that were actually decent on me! It looked like it only needed to be taken in some at the waist. They were too nice to be thrown out, but too small for her to ever fit again. We figured that it would make much more sense for me to get them altered, then if I went out and bought new pants... as I'd probably have to get those altered as well. Oh the woes of being a girl... blech.
We got to the tailor with my bag of pants... she was a friend of my sister, and supposedly super talented. We gossiped on the way there, and my sister warned me that Elizabeth, the tailor, was very tiny. In her own words, she said Elizabeth was only slightly bigger than my 6 year old niece.... a gross exaggeration, but it made us laugh like hyenas in the car.
When we got in the shop, the front desk was empty, so we just waited. Then out of the corner of my eye, I spied a figure emerging from a room... and I was sure my eyes bugged out of my head. It was a guttural reaction... at meeting someone so small. At most she could be 4'7... give or take an inch. She's also nearing 50, minus one or two years. Her body certainly doesn't show her age, and her face is very beautiful. She carried her long black hair with great pride, you can tell... from the way she swished them about.
As I stood there to be pinned and tucked, I thought: here was a woman who greatly valued youth. Her height, or lack thereof, had actually become an asset. She couldn't change what genes she inherited, so she embraced them and made the best of the situation. Her face was taut. Her hair was long and shiny. Aside from genetics, what really convinced me of her devotion to youth was the way she dressed. She glided about almost weightlessly in what I imagine can be girl's jeans, folded up at the hem line. She wore a bubble gum pink & white striped thin sweater, which is not unlike one of the shirts I've bought for my niece. In the dead of winter, she had simply flip flops on her feet... with some socks. I'm positive that a stranger who saw Elizabeth from the back would no doubt mistaken her for a 13 year old girl. The kicker is not how young Elizabeth could pass for; the true kicker is that Elizabeth gets a kick out of such situation!
I think she's one of the few Asian people I know whose age has not catch up with her youth. I think in her old age, she will still be mistaken for a young girl, if not by her natural looks then by the way she presents herself. That's something to be proud of, I suppose. Women all over the world want to keep their youth as long as possible. We slather stuff on our faces, pop pills, inject toxins in the lines, pump our lips with butt fat, spackle on the make-up... all in the hopes of stemming the aging process. Who doesn't want to look younger?! Seriously!
At 23, I don't have many woes of aging... just yet. I do play with makeup & what not because it makes me feel pretty. But I can't help but see an incongruity in Elizabeth... a 40-something woman who could pass for a teen. Somehow that doesn't seem all that glamorous to me. When I'm 40-something, I would consider it a compliment when someone tells me I look great... maybe I'd blush when they think I'm a few years younger than I actually am. I think I would actually turn tomato red and be completely mortified if at that age, someone stops me in the store and asks me if I'm allowed to be there without my parents. Youth is awesome. But being carded past a certain age is just ridiculous. But that's just me.
I get my pants back in a few weeks. I hope they fit.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
All that is gold does not glitter
- All that is gold does not glitter,
- Not all those who wander are lost;
- The old that is strong does not wither,
- Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
- From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
- A light from the shadows shall spring;
- Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
- The crownless again shall be king. -- J.R.R.Tolkien
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Monday, December 28, 2009
Reflections
And so Noel 2009 has come and passed. It seems almost ridiculous now that Christmas is over... I mean all that anticipation and preparation during the holiday season for this one day. And it passes by so quickly. I swear if I blink I'll miss it.
Because my niece and nephews are 3 very crafty rug-rats, there isn't a part of the house that is safe from their little, but o-so-nimble, hands. And so whatever gifts and knickknacks we buy for them has to stay inside the car trunk until the very last minute. On the day before Christmas they were trembling with giddy. Where was Santa? What toy is he going to bring? How will he get down the chimney? When we watched the SantaTracker, their eyes bugged out and their jaws dropped. Lucky for me, one of the stories we read specified that Santa does not visit houses where children were still awake. That hushed them up pretty well, and they actually trampled on each other on the way to brush their teeth and get to bed... all the while giggling like mad. To be sure, I waited an hour after they were in bed before braving the icy driveway to get to the car to lug in the toys. Then there was the business of wrapping the stuff, bows & whatnot, and then sneaking it under the tree.
Such an elaborate operation. Why do we do it? All because of them and their smiles in the morning as they tear through the wrapping. What took me close to an hour to wrap they manage to rip & open through in a matter of minutes. As I sat there and watch the flurry of papers and bows flying about, the MasterCard commercial plays in my head.
Bows: $1
Wrapping Paper: $7
Toys (some that will be broken & lost within the hour) : $359
Squeals in opening a present from Santa: Priceless
My niece and nephews are, without a doubt, more spoiled than 3 day old milk left in the sun. Spoiled as in they are free to be children and still have that childhood innocence that goes away too early in this day and age. I have somewhat a biased view because of my childhood. Growing up in Vietnam my family struggled, really struggled, for everything that we had. My sisters and I knew of no Christmases, birthdays, or any other holidays... except Chinese New Year. We'd get a red envelope that day with some money inside, for luck.
I don't ever want them to have to experience the hardships that we did. I'm happy to give them what I didn't have, for them to have the happiest childhood memories, and for them to be children as long as they can... even if that means telling them that some white-bearded jolly old man goes around the world delivering gifts to every single child in a mere day by way of flying reindeer. I guess in a way I'm reliving my childhood through them, vicariously. It's not so bad, I don't think. But I do worry sometimes that they do grow up to take things for granted. I make it a point to show them the other side of life, the not so glittery side that they don't know... but it's hard to comprehend, I know.
Anyways, 2009 will be over in a few short days. I can't believe it. It's been a bittersweet year. How I've gotten here still puzzles me...
January: Heartache
February: Rebuilding a wall
March: Snow fight; Bahama sunshine
April: Easter egg hunt & some awkwardness
May: I have a Bachelor's Degree! Yay!
June: Strenuous brain work-out
July: Judgment day & failure of expectations; the start of Vietnam
August: Discovery, exploration, indulgence, & reunion in the mother country
September: Recuperating; finally face to face; patiently waiting
October: Excitement, butterflies; death.
November: Mission Search & Salvage; London Bridge; heartache; mourning; despair; loneliness.
December: Sadness; The Mask of Cheers; Christmas happiness; moving forward.
Is it fate where we end up in life? Maybe 10%-ish. We all go through life making choices for ourselves. In retrospect some choices were probably better than others. But there is no magic crystal ball for us to know right then and there the consequences of our actions. And even if such thing exists, life is still unpredictable and mysterious... enough so that sometimes I feel thrown for an unexpected loop (don't we all?). But I'll survive by making the best of what I have, and smiling (or trying to) in the process... because there's always hope for happiness. Case in point: In the midst of November's tornado, I had totally forgotten that I became a published first author! So, as unpredictable and twisted I think life can be, I believe that we can/should/ought to laugh and then laugh some more, because in the end everything will work itself out. What is the logical basis for my belief?... I have none.
So, 2010... Bring it on. Take me for a spin. Make me smile.
Because my niece and nephews are 3 very crafty rug-rats, there isn't a part of the house that is safe from their little, but o-so-nimble, hands. And so whatever gifts and knickknacks we buy for them has to stay inside the car trunk until the very last minute. On the day before Christmas they were trembling with giddy. Where was Santa? What toy is he going to bring? How will he get down the chimney? When we watched the SantaTracker, their eyes bugged out and their jaws dropped. Lucky for me, one of the stories we read specified that Santa does not visit houses where children were still awake. That hushed them up pretty well, and they actually trampled on each other on the way to brush their teeth and get to bed... all the while giggling like mad. To be sure, I waited an hour after they were in bed before braving the icy driveway to get to the car to lug in the toys. Then there was the business of wrapping the stuff, bows & whatnot, and then sneaking it under the tree.
Such an elaborate operation. Why do we do it? All because of them and their smiles in the morning as they tear through the wrapping. What took me close to an hour to wrap they manage to rip & open through in a matter of minutes. As I sat there and watch the flurry of papers and bows flying about, the MasterCard commercial plays in my head.
Bows: $1
Wrapping Paper: $7
Toys (some that will be broken & lost within the hour) : $359
Squeals in opening a present from Santa: Priceless
My niece and nephews are, without a doubt, more spoiled than 3 day old milk left in the sun. Spoiled as in they are free to be children and still have that childhood innocence that goes away too early in this day and age. I have somewhat a biased view because of my childhood. Growing up in Vietnam my family struggled, really struggled, for everything that we had. My sisters and I knew of no Christmases, birthdays, or any other holidays... except Chinese New Year. We'd get a red envelope that day with some money inside, for luck.
I don't ever want them to have to experience the hardships that we did. I'm happy to give them what I didn't have, for them to have the happiest childhood memories, and for them to be children as long as they can... even if that means telling them that some white-bearded jolly old man goes around the world delivering gifts to every single child in a mere day by way of flying reindeer. I guess in a way I'm reliving my childhood through them, vicariously. It's not so bad, I don't think. But I do worry sometimes that they do grow up to take things for granted. I make it a point to show them the other side of life, the not so glittery side that they don't know... but it's hard to comprehend, I know.
Anyways, 2009 will be over in a few short days. I can't believe it. It's been a bittersweet year. How I've gotten here still puzzles me...
January: Heartache
February: Rebuilding a wall
March: Snow fight; Bahama sunshine
April: Easter egg hunt & some awkwardness
May: I have a Bachelor's Degree! Yay!
June: Strenuous brain work-out
July: Judgment day & failure of expectations; the start of Vietnam
August: Discovery, exploration, indulgence, & reunion in the mother country
September: Recuperating; finally face to face; patiently waiting
October: Excitement, butterflies; death.
November: Mission Search & Salvage; London Bridge; heartache; mourning; despair; loneliness.
December: Sadness; The Mask of Cheers; Christmas happiness; moving forward.
Is it fate where we end up in life? Maybe 10%-ish. We all go through life making choices for ourselves. In retrospect some choices were probably better than others. But there is no magic crystal ball for us to know right then and there the consequences of our actions. And even if such thing exists, life is still unpredictable and mysterious... enough so that sometimes I feel thrown for an unexpected loop (don't we all?). But I'll survive by making the best of what I have, and smiling (or trying to) in the process... because there's always hope for happiness. Case in point: In the midst of November's tornado, I had totally forgotten that I became a published first author! So, as unpredictable and twisted I think life can be, I believe that we can/should/ought to laugh and then laugh some more, because in the end everything will work itself out. What is the logical basis for my belief?... I have none.
So, 2010... Bring it on. Take me for a spin. Make me smile.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
I like paper
Today I sent out Christmas cards. And not those e-cards either. Real cards, in envelopes that you have to lick to seal and with real stamps. One of the cards I sent was to a friend who thinks me a luddite, or, less harshly, as someone who was born in the wrong generation. I put up an argument, but I know there's a grain of truth in that assertion.
To be crystal clear, I love the privileges of modern life... air conditioning, heat, microwave, *television*, and the almighty internet. Goodness knows I can't carry on my bummy lifestyle without those modern conveniences. And here's something else I appreciate immensely about this day and age: my entire life goal is not reduced to just getting married and bearing children! O the joy of living in the 21st century. Wouldn't give it up for a hot minute.
Yet, as much as I love being a part of the 21st century revolution, I can't help but feel nostalgic (?) for some of the less-than-convenient ways of earlier days. Nostalgia. That might be a bit of a strong word for a 23 year old.... but it feels apt. Nowadays, it is much easier to stay connected, but are we really connected? Text messages, FB posts, email messages, *tweets* ... there's no denying the ease. But I'm inclined to think somewhere along the lines, we have sacrificed personal intimacy for ease of use.
Now some might argue that intimacy is enhanced with the progress of technology. Can you say "Sexting"? But that's not the intimacy I'm referring to. What I miss is more intangible. The feeling of ripping open an envelope to find a personal letter inside, the squiggly 's' in a friend's chicken scratch, the voice of a person. I miss the stuff that can make a person so endearing... the stuff that can't be replicated even with the most sophisticated machines.
An email and a letter can contain the same message. But for me, the message feels more meaningful in the form of a letter. Maybe it's because I know that a person actually took the time to pen that letter with ink and paper, and then had to put it in an envelope, lick the seal, place a stamp on it, and walk it out to their mailbox. A letter is inherently more personal in its inconvenience. We rarely receive such letters anymore in this day and age. I guess its rarity is also part of why I put such high value on it.
So... am I a luddite? Hardly. I am using my laptop to "blog" aren't I? That's a definite 21st century act. Not to mention I use Google and email everyday! But while I don't oppose the progress of technology, I'll always prefer handwritten letters over emails, actual post cards instead of facebook posts, conversations over text messages. While I'm at it, I'll always, always prefer a crate of books over a shiny Kindle.
For my friend who is super-mega-advanced in all that is technology, I included a hand-drawn comic about his probable perception of the extinction of holiday cards in the card I sent. O the irony... it couldn't drip more of irony than if I had included actual iron in the card. For him more than anyone else, I hope he will appreciate the personal touches in the card.
To be crystal clear, I love the privileges of modern life... air conditioning, heat, microwave, *television*, and the almighty internet. Goodness knows I can't carry on my bummy lifestyle without those modern conveniences. And here's something else I appreciate immensely about this day and age: my entire life goal is not reduced to just getting married and bearing children! O the joy of living in the 21st century. Wouldn't give it up for a hot minute.
Yet, as much as I love being a part of the 21st century revolution, I can't help but feel nostalgic (?) for some of the less-than-convenient ways of earlier days. Nostalgia. That might be a bit of a strong word for a 23 year old.... but it feels apt. Nowadays, it is much easier to stay connected, but are we really connected? Text messages, FB posts, email messages, *tweets* ... there's no denying the ease. But I'm inclined to think somewhere along the lines, we have sacrificed personal intimacy for ease of use.
Now some might argue that intimacy is enhanced with the progress of technology. Can you say "Sexting"? But that's not the intimacy I'm referring to. What I miss is more intangible. The feeling of ripping open an envelope to find a personal letter inside, the squiggly 's' in a friend's chicken scratch, the voice of a person. I miss the stuff that can make a person so endearing... the stuff that can't be replicated even with the most sophisticated machines.
An email and a letter can contain the same message. But for me, the message feels more meaningful in the form of a letter. Maybe it's because I know that a person actually took the time to pen that letter with ink and paper, and then had to put it in an envelope, lick the seal, place a stamp on it, and walk it out to their mailbox. A letter is inherently more personal in its inconvenience. We rarely receive such letters anymore in this day and age. I guess its rarity is also part of why I put such high value on it.
So... am I a luddite? Hardly. I am using my laptop to "blog" aren't I? That's a definite 21st century act. Not to mention I use Google and email everyday! But while I don't oppose the progress of technology, I'll always prefer handwritten letters over emails, actual post cards instead of facebook posts, conversations over text messages. While I'm at it, I'll always, always prefer a crate of books over a shiny Kindle.
For my friend who is super-mega-advanced in all that is technology, I included a hand-drawn comic about his probable perception of the extinction of holiday cards in the card I sent. O the irony... it couldn't drip more of irony than if I had included actual iron in the card. For him more than anyone else, I hope he will appreciate the personal touches in the card.
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