The Way Things Ought to Be

Had a conversation with a friend today that made me think, it's ok not to live every day like you're out to change the world. That's too ambitious.

Live your life in a way that is bigger than yourself.

And be grateful. Always be grateful. The power went out for a few minutes in my neighborhood earlier, and the minor inconvenience had me thinking about how terribly intolerable the entire situation was becoming as more time passed.

Living too well these days.

YLOO

Resist the easy comforts of complacency, the specious glitter of materialism, the narcotic paralysis of self-satisfaction.  Be worthy of your advantages.

That about sums it up. One of the best commencement speeches I've seen in a while. A fresh reminder that I should go forth, in all my insignificance, and appreciate and be thankful every day that I wake up breathing air and have the opportunity to enjoy Paris for Paris, climb the mountain, and afford moments of self satisfaction.

The Obligatory Thanksgiving Entry

I feel like I have a hangover without the fun of last night. For some reason I've been feeling really tired these past few weeks, starting from when I moved. It's unusual and I can't figure out why. Usually I have more energy than this. Maybe it's hard to get back into a busy routine. Hectic schedule? Not enough caffeine? I hope it's a temporary thing.

Anyway, I am super happy to be back home for a few days. Mocha is now fully adjusted to family life and super fat. She felt noticeably heavier when I picked her up. What a lucky puppy. Besides the fact that I love Thanksgiving because I get a long weekend and also get to eat super good food that takes multiple workouts to offset, it once again reminds me of how thankful I should be.

1) Family
2) Friends
3) Job
4) Food
5) Car
6) Place to Live
7) Independence
8) Health
9) Education
10) Dog

Health should be higher on the list. I wrote down each one without thinking about it too much, which I guess is reflective of what I value more in my life. In all of this, I'm not just thankful, I'm grateful. Grateful to have the people in my life who care about and love me unconditionally. When I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place, I think about them. And at the same time, I hope they know I care about them the same way they do about me, even if I don't talk about or show it all the time. That's all I can ask for, really...and maybe a few other material things ;)

On another note, I hope I'll have time to blog every once in a while, including those super-ranty, nonsensical, philosophical entries about nothing in particular. I do like blogging about myself (hahaha) but it would be nice to make it something beyond a me-me blog.

San Jose, Dads, OCD, I'm Hungry

This is another one of those get-it-all-out-of-me posts, now that I've had a chance to sit down. Actually I'm not done unpacking yet, and I have no desk or any other furniture besides a bed, but I haven't blogged in a while even though I've been itching to. So here goes.

My initial impression of San Jose is that it is...not that different from my parents' house in West Covina. Definitely different than LA-LA. I actually live in a really nice neighborhood full of middle class families. Think Desperate Housewives without the desperation. I know why now some people say the Bay Area is perfect for raising a family. The scenery here is amazing. I keep noticing all the gorgeous, towering trees lining the streets, with beautiful red, yellow, green, and orange hues. It definitely feels like autumn here. I can't think of a place in LA like this. Everything is so neat and suburban. I like it for now, but it could also be because I haven't really had time to be bored.

My dad came with me up north to help me move in. There's just something about parents, ok--maybe my parents, where no matter how independent I become they'll still want to help. This will probably be the case until they physically can't anymore, and it's my turn to take care of them. This trip with my dad was practical, especially when my tire went flat or when we needed help moving my mattress from the furniture store to the house, but it also unexpectedly brought me, at least, closer to my dad. Even though I lived at home I never really spent much leisure time with my dad, nor did we talk much. These past few days really gave me the opportunity to remember why I love him so much. He's so practical and not a man of many sentiments, but he doesn't need to say anything for me to realize just how awesome he is. The morning of the day he left, he helped me put together my bed and move boxes around, and after it all, he just smiled and said, I'm happy I could help my daughter. He paid for my security deposit, first month's rent, furniture, auto insurance, and told me not to pay him back. Before he left he took out his wallet and gave me the rest of his cash. That was the last thing he did for me before waving bye and going through security. I said bye and hugged him. Afterward, I was alone and I bawled.

My other dad--my pledge dad--is like, in some ways, like my biological dad. Not a person keen on expressing his care for you in words, but through action. It was only when I left that I thought about all the things Robert has done for me through the years, and it made me realize he is one of the very few non-family people who I would bend over backwards for. One of the few people, not blood-related to me, who I deeply and unconditionally care about. Maybe I just don't have many friends, but I've never met a person who demonstrates the meaning of friendship so much to the core as he does. It makes me want to be a better friend in all my friendships. And I can't think of many people who inspire me.

Ok, enough of the mushy stuff. What is it about cleaning something until it's spotless that gives me such a sense of satisfaction? The bathroom here was disgusting. Ok, not disgusting. I guess it was average in terms of cleanliness. Hair on the floor and a dirty sink and shower. I guess most people would be able to tolerate it. I am not one of those people. I am the type of person who cannot stand a smidgen of hair on the floor (or the wall, or the shower, or the sink...you get my point), dust on the toilet cover, or spots on the mirror. In other words, the bathroom must be so clean I could feel comfortable putting a plate of food on the floor. So an hour later, the bathroom is now so clean it could be a showroom floor model. I kept turning on the light just to smile and look at it. Obviously it won't stay clean for long, but at least I can shower and use the bathroom with satisfaction for a few days. Ahhhh. 

Apologies for the lack of transition sentences between each paragraph, but I just had to get everything out. I can't wait to get back into a routine and do the things that allow me to feel like myself. I haven't had a good yoga session in what feels like eons, my body feels like flabby flub. That's exacerbated by the fact that I've been eating not-so-good food since I haven't had time to cook. Unfortunately I think routine is something that will escape me a bit longer. I start training in SF for two weeks so I'll be living out of a suitcase at my sister's. During part of that time I go back to LA for Thanksgiving. Oh black suitcase, you and I will have many more extended intimate moments together. Get excited.

Colonization Sucks

It usually interests me to listen to older people talk. The old people I know were definitely not ones born with a silver spoon in their mouths, and so their stories of hardship really resonate with me. Not only that, but the fact that they talk about stuff so matter-of-factly--stuff that I've only read about in history books and studied from a distance--is mind-blowing to me.

I was sitting at a table with my dad, our family friends (an elderly couple from Taiwan), and a recent emigre of China tonight. The Taiwanese uncle and auntie were talking about life during Japanese colonization and the takeover of the KMT. Life was bad during colonization, but it was worse during KMT rule. Of course I knew this from reading about it already, but just hearing a first-person perspective was a different experience. Ah Beh talked about how during every harvest families would have to turn in every last grain of rice to Japanese officials and couldn't keep any for themselves. Then the rice would be rationed to each family, each time receiving only enough to survive. Never any extra. Then his wife (Wang Mama) talked about how some people would try to hide rice in the house. Her dad stuffed some in the ceiling. Japanese soldiers were very vigilant about making sure no one kept rice for themselves. They would raid people's houses, including poking through the ceiling to check if families were doing what was just described. If people were caught hiding rice they would be physically assaulted. Wang Mama laughed and said fines didn't work, because people were so poor even if you fined the shit out of them they wouldn't be able to hand over any money. So beating them up served as a more "appropriate" form of punishment.

So life was pretty shitty under Japanese rule, but it sucked ultimate balls when the KMT came. Ah Beh talked about how they welcomed their mainland brothers with open arms, but quickly discovered what a repressive and lawless regime they were. This was a completely new monster. As he put it, the Japanese were cruel, but at least there was societal order. The KMT was cruel AND there was no rule of law. People were shot without reason, people were afraid to say anything, and officials were so corrupt bribes were standard protocol. And just the tone Ah Beh, Wang Mama, and my dad were using when they were talking about all of this. Nonchalant, chuckling. I couldn't detect any resentment in their voices. When I learned about this historical period in school, I was like, WOW omg. When they recalled living through the experience, they were like, meh...haahaha.

Other things that sucked about living during this time:
Noodles were only eaten once a year, at the beginning of the summer. My dad also likes to mention this a lot, that he as a kid would be super excited whenever he heard relatives were coming because that meant they would take him out to eat noodles. Otherwise it was rice and soy sauce (and maybe some meat if lucky).
Having to carry hoes (insert tasteless dirty pun here) as schoolchildren in Taiwan. Kids were expected to do labor. Child labor laws definitely did not exist then.
Making clothing out of burlap noodle sacks. Wang Mama actually laughed and said it was great material for clothes because it was so durable.

I felt like an ingrate just sitting there and listening to them talk. Because come on, I have a closet full of clothes and some days I complain that I have nothing to wear. I write scathing reviews for restaurants because the service is lackluster. I curse at people when I'm in my car. MY CAR. Who had a car during 1960s Taiwan and Vietnam?

How far we've come a generation later. Can I be that noble one day? That valiant? That unconditional when it comes to making sacrifices so the next generation will be so well off they can't even imagine life without an iPod, a car, a closet full of shoes and clothes? I don't know. I know the sacrifices made during my parents' generation was largely because it was necessary for survival, but it's like people my age have a distaste for anything that requires mere compromise. Not even a sacrifice. Compromise. My dad's right. We're soft. We're "too" lucky. Then again, with the way things are looking now, maybe there's some bitterness that will inevitably be tasted. An opportune wake-up call perhaps? As long as we don't have to wear burlap sacks and carry hoes with our briefcases. I don't think I could find shoes to match.

Blessed

I have got to be the luckiest girl in the world. SO, so, so, so grateful that I've been given this opportunity, that I have the friends, family, and support I have. I can't ask for anything more. This experience has taught me that hope is the strongest remedy you can administer for yourself. Never lose hope. It keeps you going, when you think you have nothing else.

So. damn. lucky.

Gratefulness Part Deux

H:

when your grateful to be alive... you think about all the great friends and family you have in your life

no lie brandy...

i realized that sometimes i take the things i have for granted

i think its human nature to do so

but after this afternoon, i can't stop smiling for feeling how lucky i really i am

I will shed my grammar nazi-ness here and just focus on the important message. You're important. He's important. She's important. It's important. Everything becomes important in the moment you realize you may never again be able to express how important you are, he is, she is, it is, to me. This is the very meaningful and doubly scary experience my good friend recently had, and I think somehow the message had a transitive effect on me.

Never forget how grateful you should be. Treasure each person in your life, the experiences that you have, the opportunities that are given to you, because you can. The vulnerability of our lives necessarily dictates that taking things for granted is the most unnecessary form of squandering humans can possibly be guilty of.

Gratefulness

The birds are chirping, the sun is out, and tomorrow is Father's Day. In this moment, I am happy. Even doing something as seemingly mindless as watching lavender incense burn and its ashes dropping as the fire takes its course downward is satisfying. With all the cynicism and pressure to constantly move forward abound in my life these days (and they seem to compound as I grow older), it's hard to remember that being happy is not difficult. But it only is true if you genuinely believe in it. I am reminded of a quote by David Rothkopf: "Our triumphs are all that much greater because they are not only victories over our enemies but also over ourselves."--Running the World

Thesis Interrupted

Today I was in the lot of Fresh and Easy when a man walked up to me and asked if he could clean my car windows for some small change. I gave him a dollar to do it. He had told me he could wait for me to come back to my car to start doing it, but I told him he could do it while I was in the store. Right after I uttered those words and walked away, I regretted it. I had left my backpack with my precious computer in it, in plain sight, in the front seat of my car. What if he was crooked and decided to break in? Ironically, I cared more about the computer than the car. (Measured in quality, my Macbook stores more of my life worth than my Yaris.) But I didn't want to show that I had considered him to be a breacher of trust, and told myself not to be so paranoid. I felt bad about myself for not giving people the benefit of the doubt. My parents, on the other hand, would never have let me forget about it if they had known.

He had the windows squeaky clean by the time I came out and I was curious to know how he had gotten into the position he had today, as I am with homeless people or other window-washers but are too timid to ask. So I asked him what his story was, and he told me he had run into trouble with drugs in Chicago, been locked up, and after being released made his way to California, where he was scraping by to make ends meet, living in shelters, people's couches, and on the street. He said he cleaned windows because in life, no one gives you a handout. He was trying his best to offer something to the world in exchange for his existence. I gave him another dollar.

This made me think about a few things. The first is that society truly is unforgiving. You mess up in life a few times, make a few bad decisions, and it has the very likely potential of condemning you for the rest of your years. Trouble with the law, rap sheet, and employers will not hire you. Former criminals are branded with suspicion and mistrust by people like me. The stigma will never go away, even if one is genuine about reform.
The second thing was a jolting reminder about how rich I am. I have four walls and a roof over my head, a desk and a computer to write this blog entry, a car to get me to the places I want to go, and a bed to retire to when I'm feeling tired. I have a family who loves me unconditionally and friends who care about me. I can pay for yoga classes, shop for a nice outfit, grumble about 8 dollar parking because I have the ability to pay for it, increase my personal human capital by reading books and writing because I am literate, and think about what I want to eat for lunch because I can afford it. I live in a society where I will not be punished for what I think and argue simply because I am female, where I can take my everyday security for granted, and where I can choose how to spend my money because I have choices. Because of this I can preoccupy my time thinking about things that people fighting for survival would consider trivial and irrelevant. Because of this I am a million times richer than a majority of the world population.

Most of all I have the consciousness to appreciate the value of these things.