family

awareness / family — Comments Off
07
Mar 12

Way to go bro!

You may know that my brother Greg has been doing one scary thing a day for a year, and he just finished! Congrats! To celebrate he made a compilation video summarizing what he did and put it on Reddit. It ended up on the front page, and now he’s getting press like crazy!

He’s gotten press from Huffington Post (who had also mentioned his No Pants on Metro post), The Daily What, and elsewhere. And today – Yahoo news! For now at least, his video is on the front page under Must See Videos.

He’s right up there with Cozy the 40-pound cat.

I got to do a couple of scary things with Greg over the year. I sat in the audience while he read at Mortified San Francisco, where everyone kept looking at me while he talked about reading my diary as a kid (guess what, I already know!) and ~~bullied~~ encouraged him to get his photo taken at Hot Cookie in the Castro.

I’m totally proud of him and am living vicariously through his fame.

More importantly, his project inspired me to start doing more scary things, such as battling my driving phobia and getting behind the wheel for the first time in years (so it was a go-cart, a license was still required so there); breaking out of my shy shell and being more social; and learning krav maga.

Today I’m reminded and re-inspired. It’s easy to get caught up in the day to day, and to use excuses like “I’m too busy” or “It’s not a big deal” to not do scray things. For instance, this week at AWP, I should have been a lot more social (more on that in another post), and while I did meet a few new people, I could have done a lot more.

While I don’t think I’ll be doing a scary thing every day, realizing when I’m entering a “scary” situtation and being more systematic about breaking out of my shell are good first steps to conquering my fears.

Thanks, Greg, for reminding me of that.

No Resolutions

Last week my yoga class was extra crowded with newbies. I’ve nothing against yoga newbies – I was one not too long ago (and still feel like one most of time) – but I know that by the end of January, most of them will have dropped out. The same thing would happen at my company gym: in January it would be crowded with poseurs, and by Valentine’s Day, it would be back to us regulars plus maybe 5% of poseurs.

I stopped making New Year resolutions a while ago. Why wait till January to start something new? Also, resolutions tend to be vague. “This year I’ll be thin! I’ll be more productive! I’ll stop worrying!” Vagueness, for me at least, is a guarantee of failure.

I’ve tried New Year goals, but that hasn’t worked for me. Last year I kept them up for a while then fell off the wagon. I hated not meeting my goals from week to week, so much so that I just gave up entirely.

So what’s a girl to do? This:

Adjust my expectations.
Set short-term goals – but don’t write them down.
Remember my accomplishments.

And here’s how I’m applying them.

Fitness

Expectations

I used to do hard cardio five times a week, which was easy with a company gym and Central Park just a few blocks away. I’d run at least four miles, and as much as six. Once a week I’d run between eight and 10 miles.

For a while I beat myself up for doing cardio “only” three times a week, for running “only” three or four miles, or “only” walking. But now I’ve accepted that’s okay, and remind myself that running three miles or walking one or two is better than nothing.

Goals & Accomplishments

You’d think writing down my goals for the week (cardio three times, yoga/weights twice, etc.) would be a good idea. NOT. Like I said, most weeks I wouldn’t meet my goals, and hated that so much, I stopped trying all together.

Now I tell myself my goals but don’t write them. For instance, my goal for October was to start walking to and from the train station on the days I worked, about two miles each way, three times a week. It was very easy to meet this goal because I enjoy walking, it took the same and even less amount of time as the bus, it’s much more relaxing than the bus, and the weather is good out here. Now the walk is not only a habit, but something I look forward to every day.

My goal for the month of December was to go to yoga class twice a week, every week (a class pushes me much harder than I push myself) and to do hard cardio (running or the elliptical) three times a week, every week. I didn’t write these goals in a spreadsheet. I mentioned them in my blog, but otherwise just held the goals in my mind.

And guess what, I made my goal! There was one day I missed yoga class because I had to go into the office (boo!) but at least I did an hour of yoga at home.

What’s also helped is tracking my progress after the fact. I love filling my spreadsheet with what I’ve accomplished, which encourages me to do something, no matter how small, every day.

My January goal is to continue what I’ve been doing, and also to do burpees/weights/yoga at least once a week. Right now I did that sometimes, but not consistently.

Writing

Expectations

I continue to struggle to have no expectations about my writing. I try to concentrate on the task at hand, and not worry about being successful (whatever that means) or comparing myself to other writers. Staying busy helps.

Accomplishments

These past few months I’ve felt blah about my writing. I haven’t published much outside of work, and have totally neglected The Nervous Breakdown, where I’m supposed to post once a month. Then I looked back at what I’d done over the year, and now feel re-energized and re-inspired. Here’s a totally self-indulgent recap of my writing accomplishments from over the year:

January

I wrote about my war with rats. Some Frisky readers gave me some love.

February

I wrote about what I think about when I should be thinking about nothing while doing yoga.

March

At The Nervous Breakdown, I was the featured author and also wrote about childhood and death. For The Frisky, I wrote about why I stand by Planned Parenthood. I kicked off the publicity campaign for my memoir by asking you guys to help me pick a cover and held a contest giving away copy of my book.

April

For Dark Sky Magazine, I wrote about vampires, tattoos, and divorce. I continued to market my memoir by giving all contest participants a free copy. I got some awesome new author photos. For The Frisky, I wrote that I’m really bad at being wrong, and for The Nervous Breakdown, about caring for someone with Parkinson’s disease.

May

I updated my website and published my memoir, woot! I wrote about the curse of the imperial roll. These cute little dictionaries I edited last year were published.

June

I started tweeting a lot for work, beginning with a live tweet of the Scripps National Spelling Bee. My piece that won Bellingham Review‘s 2010 nonfiction contest was published, and the contest judge wrote something very nice about it. I received my first real review (thanks Ed Lin and Giant Robot!). For the anthology Wisdom Has a Voice, I wrote about my dear grandmother. For The Nervous Breakdown, I wrote about things I’ve found on the sidewalk.

July

I got some more Nervous Breakdown love. For the Frisky, I wrote that I’m neither a trophy nor a tiger. I started blogging a lot for work.

August

I kicked off my 12 months, 60 Rejections project (I’ve made 16 submissions and have had three rejections and one acceptance so far). At The Frisky, I wrote that I’m divorced, get over it. I won first place in Hyperink’s My Tiger Mom and Me contest, and was published in their anthology.

September

I wrote a shit ton for work, including words about work, words in fashion, pirate words, punctuation rules, and drinks: wine, tea, funny drink names, coffee, and beer.

October

For work, I wrote all about Halloween as well as Hangul Day, and started writing a bi-weekly series called Word Soup, in which I round up funny and interesting words from TV (and you know I watch a lot of TV!). I got invited to speak at the BlogHer Writers’ Conference and had a great time. I finished reading John Truby’s Anatomy of a Story, went through all the exercises, and planned my novel. I finished compiling and editing a book of essays to enter in a few contests (the essays are a mixture of stuff I’ve published and a couple of newish ones).

November

For work, I wrote about Saintly Words for All Saints’ Day; Words on Plot and Treason for Guy Fawkes’ Day; Palindromes and Other Word Play for 11/11/11; and turkey words for Thanksgiving. I decided to do NaNoWriMo differently this year, and while I didn’t complete it, I continued to work on my novel.

December

I continued to work on my novel, and submitted a story pitch, my first in months – yay!

Goals

My goals for writing are even shorter-term than for fitness. In general I want to work on my own writing every day, even if for a little bit, whether it’s my novel, my blog, a pitch, or a shorter piece. For a couple of months (which felt like several), I really neglected my own writing. What’s helping so far is writing before I turn on my computer. With my novel (for which I spent September and October planning out the characters and all the scenes), I’ve been handwriting a few scenes, then typing them up. When I type, I also edit and add.

My goals for my novel are day by day. For instance, today I want to hand write a few scenes. I usually need a little breather after I write a few scenes, to sort of let them clear from my head so that when I type them, I can see them with a fresh eye, so then I’ll work on something else the next day, either my blog or a pitch. This week I went to turn in another story pitch.

I don’t really have a drop dead date for when the novel should be done. Right now I’m just going day by day.

Other goals I’m keeping in the back of my mind are to catch up on my reading in The Nervous Breakdown, and to write an essay for January.

So no resolutions for me. No “From now on, I’m going to be X.” All I can ask of myself is to continue these small goals, which if you think about it, add up to bigger ones anyway.

family — 2 Comments
16
Nov 11

Getting mortified and scared

This past weekend in between slacking on NaNoWriMo and avoiding the gym, I hung out with my brother.

I’ve written before about his scare yourself every day project. Well, as part of that, he performed in Mortified L.A., which involves adults reading their angst-ridden journal entries from when they were teens and pre-teens. This weekend he went on a Bay Area Mortified tour, hitting San Francisco and Berkeley. MB and I went to the one in SF.

The day was a tough one for travel for both my brother Greg and me. He dealt with a check-in nightmare at LAX and a horribly delayed flight, while my train decided not to run that night. Not just my train, ALL the CalTrains, running north and south, because, I gathered from word of mouth and NOT any useful announcements, some bridge was out somewhere. On top of that, it was raining and I had no umbrella.

I left work early to make it back into the city to have dinner with Greg and MB before the show. I left at 4:30, at 5 decided to take the very slow bus, and finally at 7 PM was back in SF. Needless to say, I didn’t have time for dinner, and went straight to the venue. At least I made it in plenty of time for that, and by then it had stopped raining.

Although Greg has done this before (and swimmingly), I was still very nervous for him. I knew he’d be great, but I was still jittery. Maybe because he was also going to mention me.

But he did more than that. He called me out in the audience. I thought, Should I duck down and try to be anonymous? Then decided, Nah I want attention! and raised my arms. After that people kept turning around whenever Greg mentioned me.

“And I used to read my sister’s diary.”

Five heads slowly turned to look at me.

People, I know already! Plus it was like 25 years ago.

MB and I had a great time. The other readers were also very funny, but it was especially awesome to hear people cracking up over my brother’s stuff.

MB and I didn’t go to Greg’s Berkeley performance on Satuday, but on Sunday I got to have lunch with him and a couple of his friends. Aftereward, his friends had to beg off, so we walked all around.

We were sitting in Dolores Park as he tried to figure out what that day’s scary thing would be. His friends had suggested karaoke that night. I said, “You could roll down this hill right now.” Then he remembered: Hot Cookie.

If you don’t know, Hot Cookie is this place in the Castro where you can have your picture taken in red undies. Greg thought he could just buy the underwear, go somewhere to take the picture, then put it on their Facebook wall. Well, you’ll have to read Greg’s post to find out what happened!

Some people may think it’s weird that I had no problem taking that picture of him, but since doing naked photo shoots with certain friends, I’m not very embarrassed by body parts, male or female, anymore.

As long as I don’t have to show them in public myself, of course.

family / friends / new york / travel / writing — 7 Comments
26
Oct 11

NYC, BlogHer Writers’ Conference, NJ

Behind in my blog posts as usual!

I had a great time in New York and at the BlogHer Writers’ Conference, despite some wicked insomnia and coming down with a cold.

The night before I left on Thursday, I just could not sleep, probably because I was anxious about making my 8:15 AM flight, and ended up getting about three hours. As I made my way to the taxi stand in front of a nearby hotel, the thought of taking a cab to the BART, then taking the BART to the airport, then getting on an air shuttle, just made me even more exhausted. I opted for a cab all the way to SFO, and because it was so early, didn’t hit any traffic and got there in plenty of time.

There seemed to be a lot of activity around security, but we got through the line very fast! It helped that the TSA agents were actually lively and alert, unlike other agents I’ve experienced. I had enough time to lounge over coffee and a bagel, but not too much time to feel bored.

I was excited to have an aisle seat, even if it was in the very last row, since I go to the bathroom A LOT. The problem was my seat was right next to the bathroom, which meant people were constantly waiting in line right next to me. Mostly they were okay, except for the lady who kept leaning her whole body against my seat, the stewardness who every time she pushed out the cart, SLAMMED it into my seat without apology, and an old guy who leaned his arm on my head.

I tapped him. “Excuse me,” I said. “Do you mind?”

“Sorry!” he said.

I thought that was the end of it, but after I closed my eyes (yes, after), he said to me, “You’re in a bad seat! I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s bumped you.”

In that case, you don’t need to apologize at all!

The flight felt fast. Despite getting almost no sleep, I couldn’t sleep, and worked on my writing instead. Got quite a bit done! From the airport, I took the train into the city, then schlepped through Penn Station during, unfortunately, rush hour. (Never doing that again.) Grabbed a cab to YP’s place, changed clothes, inhaled some yummy cheese and crackers that he had so considerately set out, and then we were off to a concert at the Brooklyn Museum.

I had never heard of Somi (though that’s not saying much), but absolutely loved her. She was jazzy and soulful with an African tinge. Very relaxing and mellow. Xanax for the soul, YP calls her music. Afterward we had South African food. I had bobotie for the first time, and it was YUM! In fact, I could eat some right now.

Despite being so tired, I couldn’t sleep that night for the life of me, probably partly because of the time difference, being in a new place, and being a bit nervous about speaking the next day. I kept using the bathroom, and thought I’d wake YP for sure, especially when I knocked the remote control to the floor, but he slept like the dead. I finally drifted off around 5 AM, and got about four hours of sleep. Oy.

I wanted to go to the whole conference, but because of my sleep troubles, didn’t make it in till the lunchtime session. I chatted with the people at my table, jotted down a whole bunch of ideas for what to say during my panel, and ate some very tasty cheese ravioli. There were some agent mentoring sessions after lunch, but because I was a day late and a dollar short, I didn’t sign up in time, and they were full. Instead I took that opportunity to buy a sweater since the conference rooms were so cold.

Then finally it was my session!

I was pretty nervous even though there were three other people on my panel, and I was talking about stuff that I know. I’ve always had a fear of public speaking, made worse at my old job when I was often made to present on stuff I wasn’t too familiar with. I’ve presented many many times, and it never got easier. Out of a dozen presentations, there are probably two I’d say were successful, one because it was the second time in a row I was giving it (and I was distracted by food poisoning), the other because my piece was so short.

But of course the panel went fine! I talked about my stuff, answered some questions, and networked a little afterward. It was great fun and exposure, and I’d totally do it again.

Here’s the video but I think you have to pay for it.

I got back to YP’s place before he did. It was great to kick back and relax in front of the TV. When he returned, we headed out for dinner. I said I was in the mood for something cheesy, which quickly morphed into “Mediterranean.” We checked out a couple of places but they were pretty pricey. We opted for a Thai place we like instead. Having had nothing since my ravioli, I was starved and inhaled an entire platter of pad thai.

Afterward, we checked out the High Line, which I’ve never been to before. It was fun! I can see it being a great place to hang out in warm weather. Then, because I was so pooped, we headed back to YP’s place, had tea, and watched TV. Yay!

Thanks to YP, I now have a new TV addiction: Revenge. Damn it’s good! We watched two espisodes, and later that weekend at my parents’, I watched the rest on Hulu. I’m trying to get MB to catch up so that we can start watching it together.

That night I was so congested, I took a Benadryl and slept like a frigging rock.

The next morning was very leisurely for me although YP had busines to TCO. We grabbed some breakfast at Cafe Habana, then I headed back to pack and relax at YP’s while he ran off to run errands. Then it was time for me to go!

The 1 train was conveniently right nearby so I just hopped that up to Penn Station, which wasn’t too crazy. I even got a window seat on the train. Before I knew it, I was in NJ and at my parents, where I had my mother’s excellent chicken soup and dumplings for lunch, took a walk on the road behind their house, and did some work. Then dinner, many episodes of Revenge, and sleep sleep sleep!

The next day was pretty much the same thing except:

That damned dog.

Yes, I was taking a walk, minding my own business, when I heard a loud growl and turned to see a dog tearing across a yard, barreling straight at me.

“Whoa!” I cried, and just started running. There’s no way I can outrun this dog! I thought, and imagined it sinking its teeth into my ankle. But after I ran past the yard, I turned to see the dog trotting away, doo-doo-doo, like, Yay, I did my job!

Fuck you, dog. And your owner too.

I told my parents about it, and my dad said he experienced the same thing a couple of years ago, that the dog must belong to one of their friends, because usually there’s another dog who ignores him.

Either way, I was so freaked out, I took the long back, walking at least a mile out of my way. For most of the way, there was a sidewalk so that made thing easy. Only at the very end I had to walk through people’s front yards to avoid the road, and that was when ANOTHER dog growled and chased me.

Well, I didn’t actually see it. All I heard was the slap of a dog door and a growl, and then I ran.

Freaking A.

Anyway, aside from being chased by dogs, I had a relaxing time at my parents’ house. I managed to get some writing done, to catch up on everything I could possibly want to on Hulu (The New Girl has totally sucked me in), and ate some yummy food. And this time my mother didn’t bother me too much about getting married, just:

Mom: Did you guys talk again about getting married?
Me: No, because neither of us want to.

Two days and two nights were just enough at my parents’. I had a mid-afternoon flight on Monday which was very easy to get to, but felt like it took forever. It’s a mind fuck to see “Depart at 3:30” and “Arrive at 6:30.” With the time difference, the flight is six hours, but I kept thinking three.

MB met me at the airport, yay! We hopped the air shuttle, then the BART (so disgusting), and finally a cab. Then I was home home home!

I’m not travling again for a very long time.

crazy stuff my mom says / family — 1 Comment
27
Aug 11

Hurricane vicariousness

Reading about Hurricane Irene and how people are getting ready (or making fun of people getting ready) makes me feel like I should be doing something. Like rushing to the grocery store and buying all the buttermilk and quinoa, or canceling plans (not that we have any), or preparing to hunker down all weekend with movies and a good book (which I may do anyway).

The only hurricane I remember experiencing was Hurricane Gloria, back in 1985. I was in the eighth grade, and got into an argument with my dad who insisted school for me wasn’t canceled the next day although my brother’s was and, more importantly, it was officially announced on the news. My father thought only the younger kids didn’t have to go to school, and that I as an old junior higher-er still did, although I kept pointing at the TV and yelling, “There! It says Clifton T. Barkalow school canceled! THERE! THERE!”

Unlike with my mother, I could argue with my father without apocalyptic repercussions, and when he was finally convinced I did not have to weather the “storm of the century” to go to school the next day, he apologized.

Yesterday I checked in with my mom. “The grocery store was soooo crowded!” she said. People were going nuts, acting like it was the end of the world. Her friend was supposed to have a mah-jongg party on Sunday, and the friend’s daughter insisted she cancel. “You can’t go outside at all!” she told her mother, who apparently wants the party to go.

“You guys grew up in Taiwan,” I said. “A hurricane’s no big deal.”

“Yeah,” my mother said. “We know typhoon.”

On the other hand, my mother hadn’t heard a thing about the earthquake earlier in the week. “Did you guys feel the earthquake?” I asked that day.

“What? Cupcake?”

Needless to say, they didn’t feel it nor even know about it till I told them.

One natural disaster at a time.

body / family / tcob / writing — 2 Comments
17
Jan 11

This will be one of the babbling posts

I have the day off today for Martin Luther King, though I dreamed last night that I went to work, and there were all these people there whom neither I nor my co-workers knew.

Finished a couple of drafts this week, a short story and an essay. It was pretty painful. I’ll take another look at them later this week. Now I’m working on one for The Nervous Breakdown, which should be more straightforward (hopefully).

MB and I saw True Grit last weekend. We both enjoyed it very much, despite the fire alarm that went off just at the start of the exciting third act. Luckily, they let us back in almost immediately, and didn’t have to wait too long for the film to start again. Plus we got free passes, woohoo!

The girl in the movie was excellent. The whole time I kept picturing her as Katniss Everdeen in The Hunger Games movie.

Had a burger for the first time in six months. At Fish & Farm. It was worth it.

I finally straightened out my health insurance. I signed up online. It was surprisingly easy. Now just waiting for my little card.

I talked to my mom and found out even more stuff about my grandmother. I think I’ve written about how she sold her dumplings, potstickers, and scallion pancakes out of her house in Berkeley for 25 cents each, and how people would come from all the Bay Area to buy them. Well, she used that dumpling money to pay off the mortgage of that Berkeley house (true, that was just a few hundred dollars a month, but still), and was able to save up enough to buy ANOTHER house in San Jose (with my aunt as a co-signer). I had no idea about that San Jose house, and just love the idea of Puo-puo as this entrepreneur.

There is a story here. I even have a title. But it’s a secret!

Watching cartoons. MB and I watch a lot of animated shows. Family Guy, American Dad, Archer, whatever anime that happens to strike our fancy and which is not too weird or crazy (currently, Ghost Hound), and new fave, Bob’s Burgers.

Lately we’ve been catching up on Metalocalypse. Last night MB said, “You’re not into metal and you’re not that into cartoons, but even you love Metalocalypse.”

I’m definitely not into heavy metal music, but not into cartoons?!?! Hey buddy, I was watching them WAY before I met you, and I’m not talking about Tom & Jerry or Bugs Bunny. Then I started trying to remember all the cartoons I’ve watched regularly as an adult, pre-MB, post-childhood:

The Simpsons
Beevis & Butthead
King of the Hill
Aeon Flux (when it was on late night MTV, not the Charlize Theron movie)
South Park
Dr. Katz
Doug
The Rugrats
Hey, Arnold!
Nick at Night (back when it was like a Robot Chicken that made sense)
Arthur
Angelina Ballerina
Chibi Maruko-chan (a Japanese cartoon I first saw in China, would love to see it again)

Not into cartoons – ha!

family — 2 Comments
23
Nov 10

A tiring pre-Thanksgiving week

As expected, last week was sad and exhausting, but weirdly fun in a way, at least post-funeral and burial.

Tuesday, November 16. I didn’t have to go into the office but it was still a busy day. Work/writing, running/yoga, writing my grandmother’s eulogy, getting my hair cut, and packing. Whew!

For some reason I was dreading writing the eulogy. I imagined it sucking as I wrote it, but I had some time to kill before my haircut, so I planted myself in a cafe and banged it out.

Wednesday, November 17. Had a shit ton to finish up at work that day, but our flight wasn’t till 9:30 and MB was coming down since where I work is closer to the airport than the city. So I had a couple of extra hours to finish everything up.

Then we had tons of time before we had to go to the airport. )What is it about waiting that’s just as draining as doing? More so even.) We grabbed a very quick dinner, then hung out at a coffee shop till the taxi came. Although it was less than 10 miles to the airport, the fare was still, with tip, $30. Highway robbery!

Getting through security is always rather stressful. While I have my system down cold – before I even get on line, I stuff my jacket in my bag, and take out my laptop and plastic baggie of toiletries – others do not, and so you’re always waiting for these numbskulls who seem to all of a sudden realize that they have a laptop and a Ziplock of shampoo.

No molesting by TSA agents though.

Since we got our tickets so last minute, we both had middle seats. The two women in my row were fine, but apparently MB was sitting next to someone who cried the whole time as she watched Grey’s Anatomy on her laptop, then gave him a really dirty look when he, God forbid, wanted to use the bathroom. But at least there were no delays and the flight was less than an hour, just enough time for me to read and eat a turkey sandwich.

My brother was already at at the airport, and there was no traffic at midnight. We were back at his place in less than half an hour.

Thursday, November 18. The funeral was at 11 and an hour away so we headed out at 9:30 AM. We got there real early and had time to stop at Starbuck’s. I was a little hungry but too nervous to eat anything.

Nearly the entire family on my grandmother’s side was there. All my aunts and uncles, all my cousins, some spouses. One cousin I haven’t seen in about 15 years, another in about four years, and I was amazed at how tall and grown-up looking he was. He even had one of those stylish Asian-pop haircuts.

Almost as soon as we walked in, my mom grabbed my brother and me, and we bowed to my grandmother. The body in the coffin didn’t look anything like Puo-puo. She was so tiny when in my memory she was always roly-poly, sort of like the puffy mantou she used to make.

The whole thing seemed to take forever to start. I was sad but at the same time very nervous, as I get whenever I have to speak in front of an audience, even though I was just reading off a piece of paper. The first few people spoke in Chinese – I understood very little – then finally we grandchildren went up to speak.

I was reminded of things I’d forgotten about, like Puo-puo selling her homemade pot stickers and dumplings out of her house for 25 cents each, or teaching one of my cousins mah-jongg, or gossiping with one another cousin. The cousin who got married in June told how he’d take Puo-puo shopping, tell her to wait as he parked the car, and when he’d get back, she’d be gone, already shopping. I told the story of how Puo-puo ripped a loose tooth right out of my head, right after telling me she only wanted to look at it.

Afterward the family received the guests. Then the pallbearers – Puo-puo’s sons and grandsons – brought the coffin out to the hearse

We pretty much had to go to the airport right away so we stood around eating the disgusting box lunches (weird Chinese sandwiches made entirely out of fake stuff) before heading out.

I haven’t traveled with my parents in maybe ten years, and in a way, hanging out at the airport with them was fun. I was glad my brother was there to help them with their luggage and getting through security. Then we hung out at a California Pizza Kitchen, eating, talking, and drinking coffee (McDonald’s with a shot of hazelnut syrup – delicious! good call, Greg). MB was a good sport too – very open with my family and just rolling along with everything that was happening.

The only downside was that our flight was delayed almost two hours. We don’t even know why. The weather in the Bay Area wasn’t bad at the time.

Next we needed to get my parents down to my aunt’s. Again, my brother to the rescue! He took care of renting the car and driving. MB and I originally thought we’d go straight home, but my aunt wanted to take us out to dinner so we squashed into the car too.

Everyone was really exhausted, including my aunt and uncle. We just ate at a nearby American place instead of Chinese that was far away. I really liked the food – hearty and comforting. Much hilarity ensued when my uncle tried to give my dad some of his corn chowder. At first my dad said no but then I gave him my empty bowl and he finally took some. My aunt grilled my brother about why he’s single.

My brother said, “It’s not like there’s a girlfriend store and I can just get one.”

“You’re kinda nosy,” I told my aunt.

Oh yeah, and my mother finally chided me about my super short haircut. She always wants my hair to be longer, like when I was little, although that my hair’s such a pain, and I think a long length now actually makes me look older. But my father liked it.

“It’s kind of sassy,” he said.

Yes, those words passed through his lips.

Anyway, we didn’t get back till the city till after 11. While we were driving, we somehow ended up going south again instead of north. The highways seem really confusing out there. Because of the coffee in the afternoon, I thought I’d have trouble sleeping but I had no problem. I must have been pretty tired.

Friday, November 19. While the funeral was in Orange County, the burial was in Palo Alto, which is where my grandfather is buried. (My grandparents lived in Berkeley for over 20 years.) We didn’t have to be there till one so we had time to drive out to Fillmore Street and get some food at The Grove. It wasn’t crazy crowded for once, and could enjoy our eggs and whatnot in piece. (By the way, I totally filched on the low-cholesterol diet and had bacon – yum!) We even had time to get some Blue Bottle coffee afterward.

Luckily at the burial ground there was a chapel we could hang out in since we got there so early and it was so cold. I wore a coat, scarf, and gloves, but should have worn a sweater. MB and my brother just in their suit jackets were freezing the whole time.

At the burial I got to see my cousin’s adorable kids. I kept getting distracted by them. Whenever the one-year old dropped something, she’d say, “Uh-ohhhh!” At one point my cousin’s wife was holding the baby, who promptly stuck her finger in her mom’s ear. MB and I were like, “No! Don’t do it!” The little girl just looked at us like, “What?” while the mom had no reaction. Hilarious.

Luckily it didn’t rain.

Afterward we all went to my aunt’s house. Someone mentioned something about going to a restaurant – over 20 of us at a restaurant?! – but then thankfully one of my cousins and his wife ran out and got takeout barbecue. The low-fat diet forgotten once again! It was fun to hang out with basically all of my family on my mother’s side, eat like a pig, talk, laugh, and stare at the baby who kept trying to climb the stairs and who’d reply, smilingly, “Da! da! da! da!” when my aunt, her grandmother, tried to scold her and called her a “bad, bad, bad, bad girl!”

I think my grandmother would have liked that, having almost all of her family together at once, eating and having a good time.

We all took off around 5:30. My uncle and his family had to get to the airport. My brother’s flight wasn’t till later but he had to get his stuff from our place and wanted to drop us off. We hit quite a bit of traffic on the way back up, what with the rain, but he made his flight. Whew!

SO exhausted. The next day it was so nice just to sit around, do nothing, and have no obligations. In fact I’m looking forward to whole lot more of nothing this long weekend.

crazy stuff my mom says / family — Comments Off
16
Nov 10

The anti-plan

A logical plan has now finally been forged regarding my grandmother’s burial and funeral, after many illogical turns.

First off, the funeral is in L.A. and the burial in Palo Alto. Palo Alto makes sense. My grandparents lived in Berkeley for years, and so Palo Alto is where my grandfather is buried. Why have the funeral in L.A.? Sigh. Who knows?

That’s one thing. Next my mother told me, “We’re all driving back to Palo Alto from L.A.” Ooookay. When I told MB this, it made him think we were taking the casket back ourselves. I was pretty sure this wasn’t the case, but still wasn’t really sure why we were driving six plus hours, instead of taking a one-hour flight.

Very carefully I broached this with my mother. “So we’re driving instead of flying becaaaauuuussssse. . . .????” In my mother’s head, it was easier to drive because we’d have to rent a car anyway to get out to LAX and once we got to the Bay Area. Then she got all put out.

“What’s wrong? You don’t want to be in the car? MB doesn’t want to be in the car? How are all these people supposed to get to the airport?”

I immediately dropped the subject and told her I thought it was a wonderful idea.

My brother wasn’t pleased either. “Why are we driving?” he kept asking during his visit this past weekend. I held up my hands. I was certainly not going to get into another argument with my mother though he was welcome to.

The whole time MB kept insisting, “We’re missing some info here. There’s some thought process we’re not aware of.”

He was thinking of my cousin’s wedding back in June when my aunt got it in her head that MB should lay down the aisle runner because 1) she thought it had to be rolled out and taped down before the ceremony, and 2) although my brother was an usher, he was already dressed up and she didn’t want him to get dirty.

Then after many simultaneous Chinese voices shouting at us, we figured out that the runner had to be rolled out right before the bride walked out, and yet my aunt and uncle still thought MB should do it. I wanted to ask why my brother couldn’t do it, since he was in the party, but didn’t want to argue with my elders. Thank God my mother – for once – saw through the insanity, and MB was off the illogical hook.

Anyway, so the original plan was:

MB and I fly down to L.A. Wednesday night
Funeral Thursday morning
Drive back up to the Bay Area after the funeral (at which point who knew when MB and I would get home? Nine, ten?)
Burial Friday afternoon

Then last night my mother called.

“So would you prefer to fly?”

Sigh. SIGH!!!

She had just found out my uncle and his family are flying, and that my younger aunt thinks it’s a good idea. Plus my brother said renting a mini van for five days would cost over $500.

At first, my mom thought flying into San Jose instead of SFO was the thing to do. Not sure why, but luckily one-way tickets from LAX to San Jose were more than double the cost to fly into San Francisco.

You know what I think happened? My mother heard that the funeral parlor was driving my grandmother’s casket to Palo Alto, and got it in her head that we should therefore be driving too.

For Pete’s sake.

On top of everything, I have to give a eulogy, along with a few other cousins. Butterflies. No: bats.

100 awesome things / family — 4 Comments
13
Nov 10

100 ATRO #88: My grandmother

Thursday afternoon I found out my grandmother died.

I’ve written a lot about Puo-puo, my mother’s mother – on this blog, in my memoir, elsewhere. My brother also wrote a funny and moving tribute to her.

Puo-puo had been ailing for a few years. Back around 2007, we’re guessing she had a series of small strokes, which left her speech slurred. But she mostly like her old self. We went on a family vacation to Las Vegas, and while she was often cooped up in her room, wracked with pain, she was still able to come down at times, play the slots, and join us for meals. When we talk a family photo, I knelt by her wheelchair. Seeing me, she broke into a slow, glowing smile.

It would be another two years before I saw her again, this past Thanksgiving, and I was shocked at the change. Her always jet-black hair was now gray, she seemed to have lost most of her teeth, and she was emaciated. When before she seemed to at least recognize people, now she had no expression.

It was almost harder seeing her that way than dealing with her death now.

What’s funny is that at that time, there were still sparks of Puo-puo’s old self peeking out. She still loved to eat, and scarfed down my brother’s mashed potatoes. She stared a lot at the new people – my cousin’s daughter Mia, as well as MB.

I had the opportunity to see Puo-puo once more this past September. She was the same, maybe worse.

Although we knew it was going to happen soon, Puo-puo’s death is still a shock. I assumed she’d live forever, the matriarch of our family, keeping all her kids in line. The funeral will be very hard. While I can deal with my own grief, it will be more difficult to see my mother’s, her siblings’, my cousins’.

Puo-puo had a long and amazing life. Born at the beginning of the 20th century, she lived through the Sino-Japanese War and the Communist Revolution. She lived in China, Taiwan, and the United States. She bore seven children and raised five. She had eight grandkids and two great-grandkids.

But when I think of my grandmother, I think of the funny things too. I think of her at my wedding, telling people, “I’m the prettiest one here.” I think of her on a cruise ship, shaking her head and grimacing, “Bu hao chi,” Doesn’t taste good, but eating everything on her plate. I think of Puo-puo furtively making sure no one was watching as she hid extra food from all-you-can-eat buffet into her purse.

Most of all I think of Puo-puo’s laugh, big and booming, her eyes squeezed shut as though she could barely contain herself.

So of course my grandmother makes the list of Awesome Things. Even better that she’s number 88, a very lucky Chinese number. We were all lucky to have her.

family — 7 Comments
11
Nov 10

Rest in peace, Puo-puo

You lived a long and amazing life.

Angela Tung Oversharing on the internet since 2005.