life

The black cover issue

like that

From age 7 to 12, five people I knew died.  The first (1991) from AIDS, a family friend.  I barely remember him, but I do remember staying up late at night at his house so we could be with him when he died.  The second (1993) was my baby sitter Melanie, who was murdered by a family member (stabbed and shot).  The third (1994) was my music teacher and choir instructor, of whom we all had a kind of fearful respect.  He was the first grown man I heard sing often.  He was shot by some teenager who held up a 7-11.  The fourth (summer 1994) was my classmate, Kevin, who drowned in his family’s jacuzzi in front of another of my classmates.  The fifth (1996) was my best friend’s mother, who died of breast cancer.  Our whole class attended the funeral.  I can hear her sobbing in the front row with her older sister.  Recently, maybe three years ago, a family friend, Dick, died of an aggressive bone disorder (cancer maybe?).  His health deteriorated so quickly, we did not get to say goodbye before he was gone.

I wonder sometimes why the deaths of those people I knew still bother me after all these years.  Naturally, I loved them and cared about them.  I realized today that they were all stolen from me in some way, taken before their time.  I suppose Dick wasn’t young, but… still.  Even so, if he were twenty years older and had died of old age, would I still be so affected?  I’d like to think so.  As for the deaths surrounding my childhood, no one ever talked to me about them.  I was completely alone, and I’m a little surprised I’ve turned out as well as I have as a result.  But I still cry thinking of them, perhaps because they were stolen, particularly Melanie and my music teacher; they were literally stolen from me by someone else: murdered.

People talk about healing after the death of a loved one, and I suppose I don’t burst into tears at the drop of a hat like I used to.  I think I will never not cry, though.  Which I’m becoming ok with.

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badness, life

Then my heart broke

I found this video today of some completely average-looking people asking for marriage licenses in North Carolina.  They all get calmly rejected because they’re gay.  Then they cry.  Then I cry.  Then my heart breaks.

I don’t understand the problem people have with gay marriage.  I just don’t get it.  I’ve never heard an argument against gay marriage made calmly that didn’t evoke a Judeo-Christian belief system.  We don’t all have to be religious to be American.  To be American is to be a member of a diverse group of citizens.  At what point do some get rights others do not simply because they’re different?  It just doesn’t make any sense.

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goodness, life

Moral compass

I’m really glad I started this blog.  From a young age, I had a strong sense of preserving the history of my family, of which I am, of course, a part.  My children or nieces or nephews will (perhaps) find this record of the minutiae of my life and, I hope, feel the love I feel for them already in the bright-eyed anticipation I feel for my own future.

It strikes me, though, that if my offspring are eventually going to read all this, I should probably start posting about stuff that actually matters to give them a better idea of who I am, or at least what I believe.  So harken, young semi-replicas of my future-self!  Your ancestor’s compass points true north!

I also ate a light bulb once, but that's a story for another time

I stand up for myself
-My first day of pre-school, an older girl demanded a toy I was playing with.  I told her simply, “No,” and continued to play.  She cried, and never bothered me again.  Our teachers found it so funny, they told my folks about it.
-When I was ten years old, a girl got in my face and yelled at me for not inviting her to play with me and my friends.  I shoved her away, and told her not to yell at me.  Dad saw the whole thing and pulled me aside as if to punish me, but instead said, “Good job.  If someone’s in your face, you get them away from you.”

I stand up for others
-The day Proposition 8 was passed, I joined a mass of people in West Hollywood to protest.  We halted traffic and marched eastward on Santa Monica Boulevard until stopped by some cops.  They told us to get out of the intersection, and while some of us did, I stayed, chanted, took photos, and almost got arrested.
-A few years ago at In n Out, a man complained loudly and rudely to the staff that he wasn’t being served quickly enough compared to the drive-through.  When a worker apologized, he kept ranting.  I told the man that the workers were doing their best, the restaurant was very busy, and that he could just use the drive through next time.  He quieted down.
-A mother recently chastised her son sharply for not bringing his belt to karate class.  I reminded her that he was only four years old, and that it was her responsibility to bring his uniform.  I asked him if he could help his mom remember, then told her that her son was not in trouble.  She did not appreciate being contradicted in front of her son, but at four years old, he was incapable of standing up for himself.

I am kind
-Whenever I see a car stalled on the road, I look at the clock and think, “Do I have time to help this person?”  Most of the time, I stop regardless of the answer.
-I have to fight the compulsion to buy random little gifts for my friends constantly.

I am loving
-I spend a little while saying goodbye to Boyfriend every morning with kisses and snuggles.
-I give some of the best hugs ever.
-I have had to train myself to act more selfishly.  Boyfriend has helped with that enormously.

I don’t always succeed in personifying these mushy adjectives and beliefs, but I try.  It’s hard to think straight in the heat of the moment.  It takes constant practice to press pause and think, “What do I really want to do here?  What is my true goal?”  I’m a work in progress.

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goodness, life

The right kind of crazy

Helping strangers is my favorite thing because random acts of kindness are always a little surprising, and the helper has no expectation of repayment.

seems legit

I encountered a Chinese woman while walking to the parking center from Office Job the other day.  She asked for directions to a freeway bus stop, and since it wasn’t far I told her I would just show her.  We chatted as we walked; she had just graduation with two masters degrees, loved living in LA (hooray!), and was looking for a job.  She was trying to get to El Monte (about 17mi away), and since I had the afternoon off, I offered to just drive her.  She said, “Really?!  Wow, that is so nice.  Thank you so much.”  It’s a little crazy to offer a ride to a stranger, but it’s definitely crazier to accept a ride from a stranger.  So win-win, right?  heh.

She turned out to be super nice.  I told her I work with another Chinese woman in my office who asks me questions about American culture and the English language all the time.  She jumped on that and asked if I could help her with her English too.  Of course!  This is my professional future!  She and Chinese Office Friend both said I should teach English in China and make bank.  Win!

I invited her to come play board games with us at my apartment some time.  She seemed really excited about that, and gave me her resume and got my phone number and email before we arrived.  After we arrived, she got her things together amid many ‘thank you’s,’ then looked me square in the eye and said, “Thank you for driving me.  You have the gift of the god.”  I was so touched.  I said thank you, and we promised to stay in touch.  I’m inviting her to my housewarming next Friday.

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humor, life

Shut up about my hometown, already

OMFG STFU

I was reminded recently that I’m hyper-sensitive to people criticizing Los Angeles.  I met a neighbor who lives in my building last week, and our smalltalk led to the standard “Where are you from?”  When I said LA, he joked, “Oh, I’m sorry.”  He and my roommate had a good chuckle while I grinned and thought to myself, “Thanks, asshole.  I’m sorry that you feel forced to continue to live in such an awful city.”  What came out was, “I love LA.”  He backpedaled a bit and said he liked it here, at which point I decided his opinion was worthless, since what he had said could basically be summed up as the following:

“I pity you for being forced as a child to live in a city where, as an adult, I have chosen to reside.  How sad for you.  No, I don’t want to move away.  Why do you ask?”

I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve heard this totally meaningless opinion: I hate it here, but I choose to stay.  This is the thought pattern of a crazy person.  Luckily, I’ve found a solution of all those live-in haters: go away.  This remarkable breakthrough is the solution to the following common complaints:

Traffic is awful– Because apparently no other major city in the world has traffic, people who come to Los Angeles are just shocked that a city with a population of almost ten million might have a few too many cars on the road.
Solution: Leave.  The people on the road aren’t a bunch of yahoos with nothing to do.  They’re people like you who came from somewhere else and decided to stay and complain rather than learn how to take a bus, stay off the road at rush hour, find an alternate route, or leave.

It’s unsafe– Because apparently no other major city has similar crime rates, reading the LA Times makes people fear for their lives daily.  And unnecessarily.
Solution: Leave.  LA’s murder stats are almost five times lower than Baltimore, Maryland.  Chances are you’ll live through the day, and as major cities go, there are far worse places to get stabbed.  If you don’t feel safe in a city, move somewhere you’ll feel safe.  Fresno is nice this time of year.

hey look, it's you. GTFO

I don’t know my neighbors– Because apparently every other major city is full of people who have become best friends living side-by-side, people who come to LA are just appalled that their neighbors don’t bring over cake and lasagna to welcome them to the neighborhood.  I have never encountered a neighbor who was opposed to stopping in the hall or on the sidewalk for a quick chat.  My parents introduced themselves to our new neighbors growing up.  Getting to know your neighbors takes a little bit of courage and time, neither of which the people complaining have in spades.
Solution: Leave.  Or introduce yourself to your neighbors, you anti-social shut-in.  Most of the people who log this complaint have never even knocked on their neighbor’s door to say hello.

The point is this: All these LA-specific complaints are not LA-specific, they’re big-city specific.  Here are some legitimate problems with LA:

Public transportation- I know, I just said people should learn to take the bus (I did between ages 12-20 all the time).  And yes, loads of people take the bus and *sigh* metro all over LA, but our public transportation system just sucks out loud.  It’s slow, unpredictable, crowded, and it just gets more and more expensive without any real improvements.

Bike lanes- Where do I start?  There are not enough significant bike lanes in LA to get around on a bike without being afraid for your life, and if there were, it would take a long time for the drivers here to get used to sharing the road.  Biking the streets of LA is a life-flashing-before-your-eyes experience.

Hollywood- If every waiter/waitress that was trying to be an actor/actress just picked up and left LA, the city’s population would be cut by 10% overnight.  Now take all the people trying to become models or stunt doubles, and their agents, and there goes another 10%.  Now remove all the tourists who want to see the Hollywood sign (2.5%), and the illegal immigrants who don’t pay taxes (2.5%), and there’s another 5% right there.  I’ve cut our population by a  quarter.  Yes, our economy would slow way down, and there would be no one to serve that thing you like at that restaurant you just discovered, but it would make the city a manageable size again, and make the remaining residents’ experience of the city exponentially better.

I’m not saying only people born in LA should live here.  That’s just ridiculous.  What I would like to see is more people who want to be here, people who enjoy living here instead of those who stay only because that’s what their industry demands.  Those of us who actually do love LA would love it even more if it weren’t overpopulated with unhappy people who trap themselves in a city they hate for no (or few) good reason(s)!

If you live in LA but you hate LA, the solution is simple.  Leave, or find something to love about it.  There is so much to love.  But seriously, gtfo.

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badness, goodness, life

Singular sensations

Diminutive Roommate named it "Boyfriend"

I have a good number of single friends, all really smart, funny, confident, good-looking people who just can’t seem to find another 20-something to appreciate them.  It’s such a shame, they’re such cool people.  I wish I could find partners for them, not because they’re all miserable on their own, just to make them feel special and cared for.  It’s nice to have a special connection with someone, and it bothers me that they don’t have that right now, and haven’t for years.  Some of them have tried online dating with mixed, but eventually fruitless results.  Diminutive Roommate got an awesome massage chair a while back, and seems very much in love, but it’s a temporary fix.

I hold back about how happy Boyfriend and I are together.  I don’t want to rub it in, but things are pretty great between us.  He has friends coming into town (they’re quality people) next month; we’re going to Disneyland together!  And again, I wish my friends had someone’s hand to hold in line, waiting to ride Pirates.  It’s so nice being able to share an experience with someone else who wants to share it with you too.  It’s exciting!  I wish there were six of me (male and female) so I could ask my friends out, hahaha  🙂  They’re just awesome.

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goodness, life

PostSecret

When I first saw this, I thought, “That’s my mom’s handwriting.”  It looks just like it.  Now I can’t stop wondering.

PostSecret is a really cool idea.  People anonymously mail in postcards with their secrets on them.  It’s heartbreaking to see how everyone carries around their own burdens so quietly, but it’s therapeutic to know we’re all in the same boat.  I feel really alone sometimes, but it seems more and more like I shouldn’t.

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family, life

What’s the emoticon for ‘I just realized I became my mother’?

My mom is easily the most emotional person in our family.  When I was a kid, she cried at the end of The Mighty Ducks because, “The family got back together, it’s so nice! *sniffle*”  I used to be able to read an article about an abandoned seal cub without getting all fucking misty-eyed, but no longer (apparently, sheesh).  Just thinking about something remotely patriotic or generous gets me a little choked up.  WTF IS HAPPENING TO ME?!

HE'S NOT GETTING UP, SIMBA 😦

This isn’t just a matter of “I don’t want to cry all the damn time,” it’s an identity crisis for me.  I’m a tough teacher with a harsh opinion of people who don’t follow the rules inside and out of the classroom (I got out of two different cars and corrected two different people who littered on two separate occasions this week).  I’m durable and strong when life gets hard.  But ask me to describe the scene where Mufasa gets trampled by wildebeests, and Simba says, “Get up, dad…” and omg it’s puddletown on my desk.

I like to think of myself as an avocado; a bit of a rough exterior, followed by a whole lot of mush surrounding a hard core with the potential for growth.  How did I forget about that mushy part?  There’s so much of it.  I don’t just have a sensitive side; I’m oatmeal disguised as gravel.  Which sounds awful now that I’ve typed it (bleh gross).

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goodness, humor, life

Color me defined

It’s a harsh truth that, as complex as people are, just one or two pertinent questions usually tells us all we care to know about a person.  This is true at any age, though the questions change from elementary school to our mid-20s in the following pattern: visual aesthetic, intelligence, personality type, and personal ambition and economic status.

Mid-20s: What are you up to?
Also known as, “Are you currently employed?” this question determines if you’re a self-motivated go-getter and are therefore worth continuing to talk to, or if you’re just some jerk who bounces from job to job, complaining until you inevitably quit.

we're unique because we dress the same!

Where are you living?
In LA, there are only so many places we 20-somethings can afford to live:
Hollywood: I’m fucking poor, but I love the night life (but if you know of something opening up on the Westside, please let me know).
Silverlake: I ride my one-speed to art shows whenever my tight pants permit.  I eat pho and anything soy based; if it’s not organic, it’s murder.
Westside: I’d rather pay more rent and have gorgeous weather than save $150/mo to get mugged on my five-block walk from my car to my tiny apartment in K-town.
Culver City: I found that one affordable apartment near downtown Culver.  My friends are jealous.

College: What’s your major?
If your answer is Business or Communications, it’s like saying “I don’t know what interests me because I’m too lazy or too thick to be self-reflective,” or “My parents still control my life.”  Every other major is awesome in comparison to these conversation killers.

Are you rushing?
This is a question for freshmen, and a contentious one for some.  From my perspective:
Yes– You’re as lost as I am, but not confident enough to try this “college” thing out before attaching yourself to a group of people who look just like you.
Nah– I approve.
No way– What are you doing for lunch?  Let’s be friends.

High school:
Are you taking any APs this year?
If you weren’t in at least one AP class, you were one of those kids.  My friends were smart, and we had egos to match.  I’m not proud of it, but intellectual prowess was (and still kinda is) like a currency to buy the approval of our peers.

this is the face of judgement

Elementary school: What’s your favorite color?
I wish we could still ask people this.  It would be so telling.
Blue– not creative enough to think of another color
Green– one step up from blue, you decided you like plants (hippy)
Yellow– I can bully you later
Purple– you like dumb stuff like unicorns, and you’re nice to everyone
Black– the coolest person you know is your older (teenage) sibling
Brown– liar, no one likes brown more than blue
Orange– we should be friends
Red– you’re going to disrupt class later (it’s gonna be awesome)

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goodness, life

Everyone loves dinosaurs

he wants to know where you got your loafers

The move is almost done!  We’ve unpacked just about everything, moved in the fridge from my folks’ garage, and have entered the Where should we put the furniture portion of this marathon.  Gotta get rid of all the cardboard boxes in the meantime but we’re so close!  There’s a list of issues with the apartment that’s grown to roughly the length of my leg.  I’m putting in a work order today.

But enough about the fucking move!  It’s all I think about, and I’m exhausted by it.  Let’s have some fun.

I found this small collection of hipster dinosaurs a while back, and just rediscovered it.  Too funny 🙂

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