I'm at home on a Saturday alone. Studying and ill.
Angrily wrapped in a fleece blanket thing and leg warmers because Hong Kong suddenly got super cold and there is no indoor heating. I've lit all these ikea candles but there's no warmth from them and for some reason they keep melting and within an hour the candles turn into a flat 2-d thing of wax.
so sad. are there no candles that can light for me?
I feel like the little matchstick girl.
I keep thinking. what if.
what if I fail my exams.
what if
I look at my test paper and realize the only thing I have to say about hong kong's basic law is that I have no basic idea of what it is basically. but it is basic.
somewhere my elementary school nerd self is looking at me and shaking her head in disapproval and disgust.
-
It's strange - I see the same woman every time I go to the gym. (Well maybe not so extraordinary because I don't go very often).. But anyways, she's a woman in her 60s, although once I saw her on the street, and the way she walks I thought she was 20. She's asian - but her skin is the same color as the Southern country club grandmas I grew up with - baked a bizarre brown-orange color from too much time in the tanning beds (on wrinkly skin it makes the person resemble a walnut).
I've only ever seen her in the locker room, standing on the scale in her underwear or putting on makeup in front of the mirror. Each time I see her I want to feed her something. Like a bag of lard or maybe a gotta have it coldstone. Her legs are easily half the circumference of my arms, and she has a gap between her thighs that a 'little person' could walk through without worrying about bumping their head on anything(weird image). Her arms look like fingers, and her chest is the definition of concave. She always stands on the scale wearing only underwear, moving the silver lever back and forth back and forth, impassive but somehow also upset.
I looked over once out of curiousity, the lever hovered around 78 - 80 pounds. Although I couldn't really tell because she kept moving the lever so much.
By the time she has wrapped herself up in clothes, she looks almost normal, just a petite woman with killer high heels and straightened hair.
I don't know, I've always hoped that with age, you earn the right to care less about what you look like, or at least not have body issues. Maybe next time I go I'll bring a bag of lard... It's hong kong, can't be that hard to find.
-
newly discovered -
cappuccinos. Who knew foamed milk could be so good. whenever I drink one it reminds me of three failed weeks I spent as a barista in london. I could never figure out how to foam milk and had to rely on the Polish bartender from the shop next door to come in and do it for me... mostly I remember because of what I can't remember. I can't remember the name of the cafe, the street it was on, the name of the polish bartender, or actually even how I came across that job.
portraits. Outside of our apartment building there's a man who paints portraits in oil paint. He hangs his canvases on the side of a brick building. It took me a few weeks to realize that the paintings were commissioned, because every few days, it is a different group of faces on the wall. He paints faces throughout the morning, working on several faces at once. One hand holds a photograph, the other hand paints the eyes of a woman and then the hair of a man - so that every face takes on some resemblance to each other.
Strangers who become alike - it's kind of a beautiful thing.
By the time I come home in the evening, the paintings and the man are gone. And the only hint of the faces from before are the colors of oil fallen on the sidewalk.
-
I know it is silly to be deeply affected by celebrity deaths. Why should the death of one person mean that much more than anyone else's? But I have to say I was really sad to hear about Daul Kim. She seemed very charming, and while not conventionally beautiful she had a beauty that seemed dangerous, sharp like a knife. the edges of a line.
I'd kept one of the things she wrote:
i never thought i was innocent
but i was pure
i believe that i am pure
now i just feel misunderstood.
guilt.
-
When you're a teenager and in your early twenties [love] seems desperately eternal and excruciatingly painful. Whereas as you grow older you realise that most things are excruciatingly painful and that is the human condition. Most of us continue to survive because we're convinced that somewhere along the line, with grit and determination and perseverance, we will end up in some magical union with somebody. It's a fallacy, of course, but it's a form of religion. You have to believe. There is a light that never goes out and it's called hope.
— Morrissey
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
Things learned:
It is embarrassing to walk around Central in a backpack.
In a city where girls don't switch to flip-flops at lunch and wear heels no matter if it's raining or typhoon status black rain or whatever - then there's me shuffling through the sidewalk with a backpack like Sam going to Mount Doom. (hehe)
I carry a backpack that looks kinda like those LL Bean ones, the ones that used to be cool in middle school. (Ok maybe not everywhere, but at least in kentucky, LL Bean backpacks with the initials were the rage... I think).
The backpack stunts my growth (potential growth) and makes me look pretentiously 'studious', when sadly I wear it because I pulled my back a month ago and carrying even a handbag on my shoulder makes me want to flinch.
On the bright side, the backpack is an effective defense tool - anybody who tries shoving past me in a "queue" finds it impossible. Hah.
Hong kong minibus system. (This might not seem very momentous but I feel so native now) =]
Haven't learned:
How to teach. I tutor every weekday, with a new batch of students in IB English. IB English is quite difficult - asking a high school sophomore to figure out the incestuous themes / Greek tragic elements in a play seems a bit overdone.
Most embarrassing moment: explaining that a scene with "kind, loving uncle character" is actually supposed to be about incest.
Defining what impotence is. I still don't think I explained that one quite well.
The law. It's a bit dangerous teaching so much because sometimes I forget that I'm in school as well - and now exams are coming and three months in, I still have no idea what the law is about. Panic panic.
It's like the longer I stay in school, the worse I get at it.
I can already imagine my professor saying "DUHH. As if!" as he reads my exam. Completely possible reality because that's his favorite phrase to say in class. Well not the "as if" but "Duh" is his catch phrase as he looks at us in disgust.
---
It's been awhile since I've read anything... but the last book I read was Shantaram the rare kind that stays and colors everything that goes on outside of it while you're reading. At points it gets draining and overwritten, but at the same time it's so generous in what it's saying and trying to give, you have to respect it.
"We should've built a life from the stars and the sea and the sand. And I should've listened to her- she told me almost nothing, but she did give me clues, and I know now that she put signs in her words and expressions that were as clear as the constellations over our heads."
It is embarrassing to walk around Central in a backpack.
In a city where girls don't switch to flip-flops at lunch and wear heels no matter if it's raining or typhoon status black rain or whatever - then there's me shuffling through the sidewalk with a backpack like Sam going to Mount Doom. (hehe)
I carry a backpack that looks kinda like those LL Bean ones, the ones that used to be cool in middle school. (Ok maybe not everywhere, but at least in kentucky, LL Bean backpacks with the initials were the rage... I think).
The backpack stunts my growth (potential growth) and makes me look pretentiously 'studious', when sadly I wear it because I pulled my back a month ago and carrying even a handbag on my shoulder makes me want to flinch.
On the bright side, the backpack is an effective defense tool - anybody who tries shoving past me in a "queue" finds it impossible. Hah.
Hong kong minibus system. (This might not seem very momentous but I feel so native now) =]
Haven't learned:
How to teach. I tutor every weekday, with a new batch of students in IB English. IB English is quite difficult - asking a high school sophomore to figure out the incestuous themes / Greek tragic elements in a play seems a bit overdone.
Most embarrassing moment: explaining that a scene with "kind, loving uncle character" is actually supposed to be about incest.
Defining what impotence is. I still don't think I explained that one quite well.
The law. It's a bit dangerous teaching so much because sometimes I forget that I'm in school as well - and now exams are coming and three months in, I still have no idea what the law is about. Panic panic.
It's like the longer I stay in school, the worse I get at it.
I can already imagine my professor saying "DUHH. As if!" as he reads my exam. Completely possible reality because that's his favorite phrase to say in class. Well not the "as if" but "Duh" is his catch phrase as he looks at us in disgust.
---
It's been awhile since I've read anything... but the last book I read was Shantaram the rare kind that stays and colors everything that goes on outside of it while you're reading. At points it gets draining and overwritten, but at the same time it's so generous in what it's saying and trying to give, you have to respect it.
"We should've built a life from the stars and the sea and the sand. And I should've listened to her- she told me almost nothing, but she did give me clues, and I know now that she put signs in her words and expressions that were as clear as the constellations over our heads."
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
spelling
In the past couple of weeks I've become a law student. HKU is a campus on top of a mountain.. well built into the side of one. Going from class to class is like living in an escher fantasy, a neverending trail of stairs, elevators, escalators, and then more stairs.
I like going to the classes, but I've realized that sitting in a 3 hour lecture is something I'll never get used to. There's always a lull period - maybe at the 1 hour mark, where inevitably, I can feel myself start to fall asleep. Coffee doesn't work, neither does sugar, so I've taken to doing what I used to do in college - stabbing my arm with sharp asian pens. (The asian pens have the best points, especially the .38 ones, which could double for ninja weaponry.)
I still have a few students that I tutor. My youngest student is in 3rd grade, a very artsy kid. At first it was hard to learn what would help him pay attention, but after some trial and error, I figured out that he likes to play hangman, mostly the part of adding extra bleeding heads around the hangman's feet or other creative accessories -
-is that a belt?
kid (ignoring me): yea. for the dress.
-It's got sparkles on it?
kid: yea.
-why's he wearing a dress?
kid: cause it's a girl. Duh. (starts to thoughtfully draw teeth falling onto the ground)
-oh. right. oh hey. now you're adding books? why's she holding books?
kid (carefully shading in the hair): cause it's you. hahahahaa.
yay...
I like going to the classes, but I've realized that sitting in a 3 hour lecture is something I'll never get used to. There's always a lull period - maybe at the 1 hour mark, where inevitably, I can feel myself start to fall asleep. Coffee doesn't work, neither does sugar, so I've taken to doing what I used to do in college - stabbing my arm with sharp asian pens. (The asian pens have the best points, especially the .38 ones, which could double for ninja weaponry.)
I still have a few students that I tutor. My youngest student is in 3rd grade, a very artsy kid. At first it was hard to learn what would help him pay attention, but after some trial and error, I figured out that he likes to play hangman, mostly the part of adding extra bleeding heads around the hangman's feet or other creative accessories -
-is that a belt?
kid (ignoring me): yea. for the dress.
-It's got sparkles on it?
kid: yea.
-why's he wearing a dress?
kid: cause it's a girl. Duh. (starts to thoughtfully draw teeth falling onto the ground)
-oh. right. oh hey. now you're adding books? why's she holding books?
kid (carefully shading in the hair): cause it's you. hahahahaa.
yay...
Thursday, August 27, 2009
stop
*patrol on the border of Texas*
"The pain I feel now is the happiness I had before. That's the deal."
C.S. Lewis
Friday, August 7, 2009
summer's end
I tried to overcome my fear of deep water by learning scuba diving for a trip to Malaysia. I had to take a four day workshop in Hong Kong in order to get licensed. It was very humbling, 3 of my 4 classmates were under the age of 11. For example while I almost failed my swimming test, the 11 year old girl in the lane next to me swam butterfly stroke.
By the time I finally got under the ocean in Malaysia, I had mentally said all my goodbyes. I tried to remember that I just had to breathe through my mouth, and I shouldn't worry because I didn't have any life insurance on me so no one was going to be turning off my oxygen (haha. actually apparently some horrible guy killed his wife underwater by turning off her oxygen tank. on their honeymoon. for her life insurance. o.o)
Supposedly going underwater was going to feel 'calm' and peaceful, something "automatic" and nirvana-like would happen. It didn't.
I gamely held on to my guide's four-fingered hand (he was missing his left thumb, probably because he had some compulsion to touch everything that was underwater, including giant clams and eels with teeth. We saw a shark and he was racing to get to it, dragging me with him.)
I thought of mermaids, and Ariel and Sebastian, I sang Under the Sea in my head - well the parts I remembered, which was just that line, 'under the sea, under the sea', and tried not to imagine octopus Ursula appearing behind me, for some reason I remembered the part of her song 'And don't underestimate the importance of booooddyyy language! Hah!'. Repeated in my head about 20 times, it became a bit annoying, even to myself.
The rest of Malaysia trip was pretty amazing, kayaked, mountain biked, fished (for them big fish). It was the first time I'd felt remotely sporty in my life.
The possibility that I could replace that Survivorman on the Discovery channel became that much closer. No crew, no cameras, just HIM, battling to survive in the toughest places on earth. (I don't understand how they do that anyway... they have a camera shot of him setting up his camera... it's confusing. Maybe he has more than one camera? He's filming himself filming himself filming himself?)
--
Whenever I needed anything in New York, my working method was to pick a direction, and if I walked far enough I would eventually find what i needed. Whether it was a hammer, rope (for hanging curtains - the sales person did ask me what the use was for, apparently it was a 'liability thing), a portable map of the world, gum... The method doesn't really work in Hong Kong, a search for Post-its lead to streets with stores that sell only wheelchairs, then a street of stores for crutches, a street of clothes for pregnant women, sports gear, wigs, lights (Actually the street of lights I see everyday, and it's beautiful. A small block of shops and each shop is blazing with light from the inside - the lights bounce and reflect from their own reflections, multiplied glass chandeliers and lamps.)
I've been trying to prep myself for law school, we have summer reading assignments that are supposed to be relatively light and helpful. I usually read them during the day but inevitably after a few chapters I'm not sure if I'm asleep or awake. One is an advice book that the author writes to a fake law student named Sam(the disclaimer that Sam isn't real is on the first page. I guess he wanted to save me from feeling HORRIBLY cheated.)
But anyway his advice included "put down a boring book immediately! If you find yourself bored by your text, put it down...2 pages of filler explanation later...it could be the author's fault in not engaging you, the reader, in the material."
Hrm. dilemna.
things to be thankful for: tea with lemon, the sound of a dial on a diver's watch, sugar syrup, kisses that hurt, snoring dogs, chess games, olives, blindfolds, lee byunghun's eyes in GI Joe, vermouth, being held, lunch hour, the tram, love and everything that comes with it, yakult.
By the time I finally got under the ocean in Malaysia, I had mentally said all my goodbyes. I tried to remember that I just had to breathe through my mouth, and I shouldn't worry because I didn't have any life insurance on me so no one was going to be turning off my oxygen (haha. actually apparently some horrible guy killed his wife underwater by turning off her oxygen tank. on their honeymoon. for her life insurance. o.o)
Supposedly going underwater was going to feel 'calm' and peaceful, something "automatic" and nirvana-like would happen. It didn't.
I gamely held on to my guide's four-fingered hand (he was missing his left thumb, probably because he had some compulsion to touch everything that was underwater, including giant clams and eels with teeth. We saw a shark and he was racing to get to it, dragging me with him.)
I thought of mermaids, and Ariel and Sebastian, I sang Under the Sea in my head - well the parts I remembered, which was just that line, 'under the sea, under the sea', and tried not to imagine octopus Ursula appearing behind me, for some reason I remembered the part of her song 'And don't underestimate the importance of booooddyyy language! Hah!'. Repeated in my head about 20 times, it became a bit annoying, even to myself.
The rest of Malaysia trip was pretty amazing, kayaked, mountain biked, fished (for them big fish). It was the first time I'd felt remotely sporty in my life.
The possibility that I could replace that Survivorman on the Discovery channel became that much closer. No crew, no cameras, just HIM, battling to survive in the toughest places on earth. (I don't understand how they do that anyway... they have a camera shot of him setting up his camera... it's confusing. Maybe he has more than one camera? He's filming himself filming himself filming himself?)
--
Whenever I needed anything in New York, my working method was to pick a direction, and if I walked far enough I would eventually find what i needed. Whether it was a hammer, rope (for hanging curtains - the sales person did ask me what the use was for, apparently it was a 'liability thing), a portable map of the world, gum... The method doesn't really work in Hong Kong, a search for Post-its lead to streets with stores that sell only wheelchairs, then a street of stores for crutches, a street of clothes for pregnant women, sports gear, wigs, lights (Actually the street of lights I see everyday, and it's beautiful. A small block of shops and each shop is blazing with light from the inside - the lights bounce and reflect from their own reflections, multiplied glass chandeliers and lamps.)
I've been trying to prep myself for law school, we have summer reading assignments that are supposed to be relatively light and helpful. I usually read them during the day but inevitably after a few chapters I'm not sure if I'm asleep or awake. One is an advice book that the author writes to a fake law student named Sam(the disclaimer that Sam isn't real is on the first page. I guess he wanted to save me from feeling HORRIBLY cheated.)
But anyway his advice included "put down a boring book immediately! If you find yourself bored by your text, put it down...2 pages of filler explanation later...it could be the author's fault in not engaging you, the reader, in the material."
Hrm. dilemna.
things to be thankful for: tea with lemon, the sound of a dial on a diver's watch, sugar syrup, kisses that hurt, snoring dogs, chess games, olives, blindfolds, lee byunghun's eyes in GI Joe, vermouth, being held, lunch hour, the tram, love and everything that comes with it, yakult.
Friday, July 3, 2009
peach season
It's been a couple weeks since I've had any students to tutor. All of them, even my 12 year old have been carted off to Korea to attend SAT 'hak-won', a voluntary summer school that lasts all summer (i say voluntary - cause from what I remember when I was in middle school, summer school was just someplace you had to go to if you couldn't pass your classes).
today I took a cooking class to make "chicken a la king". I had no idea what that was til today, but it's basically chicken with vegetables and bechamel sauce. The class doesn't really do much for technique - the attitude is more like a frenetic one of "go free! go! gogogogogogo..." with instructions shouted in both english and cantonese. I sliced my finger within the first 5 minutes of class while chopping carrots, and midway through the teacher's presentation, a huge roach walked out next to my foot, before it was promptly and casually stomped on (by someone else, not me). But I do feel fulfilled, who knew I'd ever learn to make bechamel sauce.. so yay, life goal attained.
I've realized that sometimes I read books that I just don't understand. It makes me feel very stupid, and also somewhat cheated (So much for getting a lit degree. 4 years! *shakes fist*). The most recent book I didn't get was "Everything is Illuminated" by Jonathan Safron Foer. It made me sad because this is a movie adaptation book (which means a lot of people did get it.) And there were so many passages that were so beautiful and others that made me laugh.. I wondered why I didn't understand it in the beginning, and still in the middle - and by the end.. I still hadn't gotten it.
sigh..
I've been trying to find loans to go to grad school here in Hong Kong. For some reason, it's been a lot harder than I thought it would be. I might as well find a scholarship to go to the moon. I called some bank hotline today and talked to a sweet Southern boy rep who kept calling me "Ms. Chow". "Cho" I'd correct him each time, but I guess he thought it was an echo on the phone or maybe a tick of mine that he would politely ignore, because I remained "Ms. Chow" for the rest of the half hour.
During the half hour I explained that yes, the school I was going to was in Hong Kong. Which was the country name. Yes it is a country. And a city. Yes it is both things... the city is in the country, like New York, NY except that New York is a state. yes and a city, just not a country. rawr.
twenty minutes later:
"Aha! Ms. Chow"
"Cho"
"Yes! I've found some loans I think would help you.. it's for schools in Singapore? Now, is that a city near you?"
-.-
My brother is biking across the country for habitat for humanity - my mom calls me every morning to tell me how many miles he's biked that day. "88 miles! Can you believe it? Now what are you planning to do today?"
--
It's the beginning of peach season here - I ate one today and it was amazing. (haha I could use that as my answer to my mother's question. "i'm going to eat a peach!") It reminded me of a part from 'goodbye to all that' - not really in that context, but still - somehow anything can make you think of new york, even if it's something as distant of not belonging there anymore.
"I was late to meet someone but I stopped at Lexington Avenue and bought a peach and stood on the corner eating it and knew that I had come out out of the West and reached the mirage. I could taste the peach and feel the soft air blowing from a subway grating on my legs and I could smell lilac and garbage and expensive perfume and I knew that it would cost something sooner or later—"
my brother's photoblog of his biking trip :click:
today I took a cooking class to make "chicken a la king". I had no idea what that was til today, but it's basically chicken with vegetables and bechamel sauce. The class doesn't really do much for technique - the attitude is more like a frenetic one of "go free! go! gogogogogogo..." with instructions shouted in both english and cantonese. I sliced my finger within the first 5 minutes of class while chopping carrots, and midway through the teacher's presentation, a huge roach walked out next to my foot, before it was promptly and casually stomped on (by someone else, not me). But I do feel fulfilled, who knew I'd ever learn to make bechamel sauce.. so yay, life goal attained.
I've realized that sometimes I read books that I just don't understand. It makes me feel very stupid, and also somewhat cheated (So much for getting a lit degree. 4 years! *shakes fist*). The most recent book I didn't get was "Everything is Illuminated" by Jonathan Safron Foer. It made me sad because this is a movie adaptation book (which means a lot of people did get it.) And there were so many passages that were so beautiful and others that made me laugh.. I wondered why I didn't understand it in the beginning, and still in the middle - and by the end.. I still hadn't gotten it.
sigh..
I've been trying to find loans to go to grad school here in Hong Kong. For some reason, it's been a lot harder than I thought it would be. I might as well find a scholarship to go to the moon. I called some bank hotline today and talked to a sweet Southern boy rep who kept calling me "Ms. Chow". "Cho" I'd correct him each time, but I guess he thought it was an echo on the phone or maybe a tick of mine that he would politely ignore, because I remained "Ms. Chow" for the rest of the half hour.
During the half hour I explained that yes, the school I was going to was in Hong Kong. Which was the country name. Yes it is a country. And a city. Yes it is both things... the city is in the country, like New York, NY except that New York is a state. yes and a city, just not a country. rawr.
twenty minutes later:
"Aha! Ms. Chow"
"Cho"
"Yes! I've found some loans I think would help you.. it's for schools in Singapore? Now, is that a city near you?"
-.-
My brother is biking across the country for habitat for humanity - my mom calls me every morning to tell me how many miles he's biked that day. "88 miles! Can you believe it? Now what are you planning to do today?"
--
It's the beginning of peach season here - I ate one today and it was amazing. (haha I could use that as my answer to my mother's question. "i'm going to eat a peach!") It reminded me of a part from 'goodbye to all that' - not really in that context, but still - somehow anything can make you think of new york, even if it's something as distant of not belonging there anymore.
"I was late to meet someone but I stopped at Lexington Avenue and bought a peach and stood on the corner eating it and knew that I had come out out of the West and reached the mirage. I could taste the peach and feel the soft air blowing from a subway grating on my legs and I could smell lilac and garbage and expensive perfume and I knew that it would cost something sooner or later—"
my brother's photoblog of his biking trip :click:
Thursday, June 4, 2009
a month since
It's June.. and I've broken my promise to myself and haven't written all month.
May passed by so quickly which means is been a month since:
I started taking Cantonese classes at a school in Wan Chai. Every morning for two hours I sit with 3 expat women, and we judiciously take notes.
"Do you like Western food?" "Are you Canadian? Are you French?" "No he doesn't like Japanese tea, he doesn't like any tea."
Our teacher is a flamboyant old woman who wears flowered dresses and barks at us whenever we get something wrong. It actually gets very competitive, and I never thought I'd feel the same annoyance I'd felt in grade school when some punk kid was showing off or trying to steal questions to answer. Except now the punk kid is a 30 something woman in a house dress.
It's still so difficult though, trying to figure out a language where a slight inflection can mean the difference between the number 9 or dog or a part of male anatomy..
-
It's been a month since my mother's visit. She came and left, a whirlwind. Before we got to the airport, I had a fear that because I hadn't seen her in so long she'd have changed or become older so that I wouldn't recognize her. But she was just the same, lovelier than ever, with the usual energy and constant stream of approval, disapproval.
Why do you look like that? How'd you get so... I thought Asian food is less fattening? What's this? I thought you said you'd learned how to cook.
I'd expected we were going to have a lot of things to debate but our main point of contention was about air conditioning.. she never wanted it on. "Wasteful. Haven't you heard of this glob-al warming?"
And she refused to let me turn it on when we slept. I lay awake and although it's sad... I think I cried cause it was so hot... and watched as the tears turned to steam and rose to the ceiling. haha.
I miss her.
-
It's been a month since I bought a pair of shorts that don't fit me anymore. I tried them on the other day and kept them on to stretch them because I thought they were just small because of being in the laundry.
But no that wasn't why.
Instead I spent the day feeling suffocated and trying to ignore the looks of suppressed horror from passerbys. For fun (and distraction) I counted the number of girls in shorts vs. the number of pregnant women. There were more pregnant women.
---
It's been a month since I've turned 23 (I guess this really means I have to give up on growing any taller);
a month since I found stars in Sanya, and stood with my head tilted back wondering; and it's been a month since I've decided to stay here and go to grad school.
"I regret that it takes a life to learn how to live."
May passed by so quickly which means is been a month since:
I started taking Cantonese classes at a school in Wan Chai. Every morning for two hours I sit with 3 expat women, and we judiciously take notes.
"Do you like Western food?" "Are you Canadian? Are you French?" "No he doesn't like Japanese tea, he doesn't like any tea."
Our teacher is a flamboyant old woman who wears flowered dresses and barks at us whenever we get something wrong. It actually gets very competitive, and I never thought I'd feel the same annoyance I'd felt in grade school when some punk kid was showing off or trying to steal questions to answer. Except now the punk kid is a 30 something woman in a house dress.
It's still so difficult though, trying to figure out a language where a slight inflection can mean the difference between the number 9 or dog or a part of male anatomy..
-
It's been a month since my mother's visit. She came and left, a whirlwind. Before we got to the airport, I had a fear that because I hadn't seen her in so long she'd have changed or become older so that I wouldn't recognize her. But she was just the same, lovelier than ever, with the usual energy and constant stream of approval, disapproval.
Why do you look like that? How'd you get so... I thought Asian food is less fattening? What's this? I thought you said you'd learned how to cook.
I'd expected we were going to have a lot of things to debate but our main point of contention was about air conditioning.. she never wanted it on. "Wasteful. Haven't you heard of this glob-al warming?"
And she refused to let me turn it on when we slept. I lay awake and although it's sad... I think I cried cause it was so hot... and watched as the tears turned to steam and rose to the ceiling. haha.
I miss her.
-
It's been a month since I bought a pair of shorts that don't fit me anymore. I tried them on the other day and kept them on to stretch them because I thought they were just small because of being in the laundry.
But no that wasn't why.
Instead I spent the day feeling suffocated and trying to ignore the looks of suppressed horror from passerbys. For fun (and distraction) I counted the number of girls in shorts vs. the number of pregnant women. There were more pregnant women.
---
It's been a month since I've turned 23 (I guess this really means I have to give up on growing any taller);
a month since I found stars in Sanya, and stood with my head tilted back wondering; and it's been a month since I've decided to stay here and go to grad school.
"I regret that it takes a life to learn how to live."
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