MONKEY WHIMSY

Happiness

2013-01-14T23:46:00.000-05:00

1/14/2013

Rut

2012-12-20T14:42:00.002-05:00

From the Oxford English Dictionary:

rut, n.²

A settled or established habit or mode of procedure, especially one that has become dull or unproductive but is hard to change; a narrow, undeviating course of life or action.

But also:

rut, n.³

Originally: the violent breaking of the sea on the shore. Now: the roaring of the sea, especially in breaking on the shore. Freq. more fully rut of the sea

12.20.12

Who's Hungry?

2012-12-12T23:56:00.000-05:00

12.12.12

Trip to Taiwan & Vietnam

2012-08-23T15:45:00.001-04:00

I was looking through pictures I took last December of my trip to Asia and realized I never shared some of the more interesting sights I saw while there.

Let me share with you some of these gems.

While in a temple in Vietnam, my sister and I were browsing through the gift shop when I spotted this book:

We, being awesomely mature late-20-year-olds, couldn't stop giggling.

Remember this photo?

My sister was yelling at me.

She said she needed to show me something.

I thought it was going to be something profound.
Something life-changing.
Or both.

This is what my sister had to show me:

Is this something profoundly life-changing?
Or life-changingly profound?

We were at Thanh Chuong Viet Palace near Hanoi.

This statue was located in an area of the grounds that most people would probably never venture to. My sister found it because she has this tendency to keep going and going until she can't anymore. I have this annoying habit of trying every single door in sight until I'm blocked by a locked one. We make great houseguests.

I have to say though, nothing beats what I found in Taiwan.

My aunt and uncle and two cousins took me to Jiǔfèn where there's lots of yummy food and cute little shops.

While browsing through one of the gift shops stocked with children's toys, I picked up this keychain thinking it was a metal puzzle for children:

It was not a puzzle piece.

It was also not a children's toy.

However, these keychains could come in handy for those conversations about the birds and the bees. That must be why it was stocked in a children's toy store. Nothing beats visual aids.

I regret not getting one.

Looking Up

2012-07-23T17:20:00.002-04:00

A few months ago, I was walking with a friend through Union Square when I happened to glance up and see this:

I pass by this building all the time and never knew there was a clock on top.

And for some reason, discovering this fact blew my mind.

And made me wonder: How many other beautiful buildings have I neglected to notice because I'm only aware of what's immediately around me?

(I know, I know, I sound hokey. But it's true.)

Ever since then, I've been making it a point to look up.
Change my perspective a little bit.
When I remember to, anyway.

Like when I went hiking with my sister and her friends in California:

Although it can't be called hiking if the trail is paved with concrete and we only walk for 10 minutes, can it?

Or when I went to Pure Food and Wine with my mom and grandma for Mother's Day:

Or just walking down the street and spotting some ivy (I think it's ivy, I don't know my vegetation at all.) on a townhouse:

I was in the MoMA with family when I looked out the window and snapped this picture. I love the cityscape in my hometown:

And this past weekend, while ensconced indoors at the Joffrey Ballet School, I heard church bells chiming the hour and went to the window to look. This is a horrid picture, but I was trying to capture the clouds and the light in the tower:

I've noticed that clocks seem to be at the top of a lot of buildings in my city. I wonder why that is. Anyone?

Eat It

2012-07-20T09:28:00.001-04:00

I want adventure.
Life and Love, and Adventures.
Meaning.
Surprises.

-Bucket List.
-Do what scares you.
-Life list.
Different semantics for the same thing: Change.

Been feeling so restless lately.
Something needs to Change.
Or I will go mad.

Rut.
Even my words.

Eat it.
I want to eat my life.

An Asian Conversation

2012-07-07T14:35:00.001-04:00

Mom: I'll make you ramen for lunch.
Grandmom: There's so much leftovers.
Mom: You can eat that for dinner, in a little while I'm going out. I'll make you ramen.
Grandmom: I'll make it myself.
Mom: Didn't you say the last time you made it, it didn't taste good?
Grandmom: I'll make it myself.
Mom: I'll make it for you.

And then my mom gathers the ingredients for ramen together.

And I, being a meddler, butt in with:
"Mom, Grandma said she wants to make food herself, why are you making her eat ramen? What if Grandma doesn't want it and really wants to eat something else?"

So then:

Mom: Do you want ramen? Janice said I'm forcing you to eat ramen. What if I make it and you don't want it?
Grandmom: If you want to make it, I'll eat it. I just didn't want to make you busy.
Mom: I would rather make it for you than you making it yourself.

And I'm eavesdropping and wondering, why couldn't the conversation have gone like this?:
Mom: Do you want ramen for lunch?
Grandmom: Okay.
The end.

Do you see now why I get confused when people talk to me?
In my head: Do they mean what they say they mean? Is there subtext? OH my god, there's subtext, what is it what is it what is it? I know! Wait, did I get it right? What if I'm wrong? Ahhh, maybe what they're saying really is what they mean. HOW DO I KNOW? Wait, they're not Asian, that means they do mean what they say. Right? Boy, I'm tired. I'll just remain quiet.

Turtle

2012-06-24T18:37:00.000-04:00

Look what I found in the garden last week.

I tried to say Hi.

But Turtle did this:

He ran away from me.

Towards the edge of the ledge.

I don't know why.

Do you think he thinks I like turtle soup?

Because Yuck.

But I do like new friends.

So I chased him some more.

Turtle ran away.

Very slowly.

And then I backed him into a corner.

Then Turtle started to go back into his shell.

I think he's shy.

My friend said I frightened him.

I think my friend's jealous I made a new friend.

Cause that's how you make new friends.

You chase them.

They find themselves at the edge.

They contemplate jumping or hiding.

They decide to hide.

And you cackle evilly.

It's like Hide-and-Seek.

I love that game.

Who wants to play with me?

Work

2012-05-23T12:00:00.001-04:00

This is the view from my desk at work.

This is the garden at work.

This is the bed in the nap room at work.

My life's so hard.

Ugly Green House: Fin

2012-04-12T17:02:00.000-04:00

This is my Ugly Green House.

My Ugly Green House and I are not getting along.

This is sad.

I thought we would live Happily Ever After.

But sometimes, things don't always end up the way you think they will.

Relationships are hard.

You have to know when to work through a fight.

But, you also have to know when to let go.

Or in my case, leave.

My house is flawed: It's Green.

But I'm flawed too:

I'm kind of sloppy.

I never make my bed.

I love to sleep in.

Those are the only faults I can think of right now.

It was hard to even think up those.

Because I'm kind of perfect.

I'm being modest here.

Goodbye, Ugly Green House.

Be well.

Easter 2012 with Cartoony Photos

2012-04-09T18:45:00.000-04:00

My friend, Eric,¹ invited me over for Easter yesterday and it was a blast.

Eric made tons of food and Boy, was it good.

There was a huge pot of mashed potatoes.

Which I didn't take a picture of because I was too busy salivating.

One of our crewmates, Kevin,² who also happens to be roommating with Eric, made some mac and cheese.

Which I didn't take a picture of because I was too busy salivating.

There was meatloaf.

And green beans. Drenched in butter.

And a huge tray of oatmeal cookies.

Which I didn't take a picture of because my right hand was too busy slapping away my left hand.

After dinner, we broke out the egg-dyeing kits and attempted to muddle through some directions (they were too complicated for us four adults to comprehend) before tackling the eggs and dye with gusto.

Eric lifting an egg out of a cup of dye while Kevin looks on. Eduarda is concentrating really hard in the corner over there.

Some of our beautifully dyed eggs.

When we were done with our arts & crafts, Kevin decided to recycle the dye for another use. Waste not, want not.

"At least take the egg out of the dye before you drink it."

Eduarda was still painting his egg.

Afterwards, we all went on a walk to give our overextended stomachs a break. We found the neighborhood jungle gym.

Eric got a little bit stuck.

Don't worry, she eventually climbed her way back out.

Then we all walked back to the apartment to make some ice cream cookie sandwiches with the oatmeal cookies.

Nom nom. Yum yum.

It was a good day.

¹ Yeah, I don't use real names on my blog.^return
² Kevin named herself.^return

My Mama Hearts Chipotle. Hardcore.

2012-03-06T17:17:00.003-05:00

Today is my mama's birthday.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOM!!!

We celebrated it over the weekend.

But first, let me tell you how we celebrated it last year:

Me: Where do you want to go for your birthday dinner, Mom?
Mom: Chipotle.
Me: Mom, that's like going to McDonald's, we can't do that for your birthday. Don't you want to go somewhere fancy?
Mom: But I really like Chipotle.

And so we went to Chipotle to celebrate. And my mama was happy.

This year, we celebrated it like this:

Me: Mom, what do you want to do?
Mom: Let's go to Ikea.
Me: Um, why?
Mom: I want to buy a mirror.
Me: You want to go all the way to Ikea for that?

(Ikea is a 40 minute drive from my mom's house. Target and Home Depot are both less than 10 minutes away and I'm sure both of those places have mirrors.)

Mom: How much was the mirror you wanted at Ikea the last time we were there?
Me: Mom, that was months and months ago, I don't remember.
Mom: You want to come over so we can go to Ikea?
Me: Okay, fine.

So we head to Ikea and after we're done mirror-buying at Ikea, this is what happens:

Mom: So, what do you want to eat for dinner?
Me: Anything you want, it's your birthday.
Mom: Want to go to that place across the street from Ikea?
Me: You mean Chipotle, don't you? You want to go to Chipotle, don't you?

And my mom smiles sheepishly in response.

Oh, Chipotle, you have stolen my mom's foodie heart.

When my mama says "Let's go to Ikea," it's really code for "I want to eat Chipotle."

Gma-isms

2012-02-17T00:21:00.000-05:00

A couple of weeks ago, this happened with my Gma:

I'm not exaggerating our height difference. My Gma really is that small and cute. I may have overdrawn her feet though. They are not as big as her head. They are tiny and cute like the rest of her. Also, I am not bald, I'm just too lazy to draw my long hair.

And I thought that would be the end of my Gma stories.

But.

There's more.

My friend gave me this for a housewarming gift:

Pretty pears, eh?

Do you want to eat one?

As I was leaving for work one morning last week, my Gma says:

Don't you want to bring some fruit to work?

And points to the bowl of pears.

I do admit, these pears look perfectly delicious.

Me: Grandma, those pears are fake.

Gma: But I felt them up earlier and they felt real to me.

Me: I don't know what to say, Grandma. They really are plastic.

And my grandma started laughing.

And I was in stitches as I walked out the door to work.

My wardrobe

2012-02-13T16:26:00.000-05:00

My closet is full of dark-colored clothes.

I thought I should remedy that so I went shopping a couple of weeks ago and by shopping I mean I went online and bought stuff because I'm too lazy to actually go into a store and take my clothes off and put them back on and take them off and put them back on . . . ad nauseam. Plus, the mirrors in clothing stores are usually deceiving anyway so why not imagine I look good from the comfort of my own desk?

So I ordered some yellow shirts, a hot pink shirt, a white shirt, a gray shirt, and a couple of black ones because habits are hard to break.

And I wore my new tops and felt happy and colorful-y and wondered why I'd kept my wardrobe on the black spectrum all these years. It's not like I was trying to make a statement or look slim or anything.

Then came laundry day.

And I remembered.

I am so lazy.

Two loads of laundry is one too many.

I don't speak idioms

2012-01-19T15:00:00.001-05:00

On some days, I can't even speak proper English.

But idioms, Oh Idioms, I mess them up so much.

For example, I love to say:

The green is grasser on the other side.

Apparently, in my world there is a shade of green that is grasser.

And sometimes, I say:

That's the black calling the pot black.

Where did the kettle go?

And here's my favorite:

That's like beating a dead horse deader.

Is deader even a word?

But this one, Oh This One, when I mess it up, I don't even realize it until I see the look on the other person's face.

I don't shit where I pee.

I astound myself sometimes.

December Vacation

2012-01-13T20:45:00.001-05:00

I spent a huge chunk of December in Asia.

I wasn't ready to go.

Because I felt like I was leaving behind things undone.

But I needed to go.

So I went.

And when I got there.

I didn't want to leave.

There was this:

versus this:

And this:

Making me feel like this:

That's not me. That's my sister. But you get the idea.

I did a lot of this:

And it looks like my sister did too:

But there was also a feeling of this:

Again, a feeling of this:

Which made all the difference.

I'm glad we had this conversation.

Hippo gets a visitor

2011-11-22T00:33:00.000-05:00

Look who came to visit a few weeks ago.

Permanently.

A Family Portrait: Uncle Chef and Hippo.

Uncle Chef made himself right at home.

In the pantry.

Right next to the big box of cocoa.

I think I like him already.

One night, last week, Uncle Chef decided he wanted to bake some cookies.

So, while Hippo and I sat on the couch and ate a pint of ice cream, Uncle Chef went on the computer and found a recipe for Peanut Butter Cookies from 101 Cookbooks.

Luckily, I had all the ingredients so Uncle Chef didn't have to go to the grocery store.

After digging all the baking supplies out of my pantry, Uncle Chef got started.

Uncle Chef likes butter. Something he and I have in common.

Instead of following the recipe and using olive oil, Uncle Chef decided butter would be the better choice.

Also, we had no olive oil.

That made the decision much easier to make.

Then Hippo decided he wanted in on the action too.

There was just one problem.

Hippo is a little bit vertically challenged.

But when there is a will, there is a way.

I don't think Uncle Chef liked Hippo's solution though.

That's okay because Hippo has more than one way of getting over his obstacles.

Butter. Yum. I pretty much think a stick of butter is dessert but Uncle Chef slapped my hand away. He's the boss.

We added some maple syrup, vanilla extract, peanut butter . . .

. . . and Hippo got a little too excited. He almost fell into the batter.

But I rescued him.

As usual.

Uncle Chef took a long time mixing the ingredients together.

It must be hard to stir that batter without opposable thumbs.

I didn't offer my help.

Hippo did offer his assistance though.

But then he almost fell in again.

That's when Uncle Chef banished Hippo away from the batter.

And Hippo was sad.

You know what that means, right?

Trouble.

What kind of trouble?

See this photo?

Wonder why we don't have photos showing the addition of flour, baking soda, and salt?

Because Hippo decided to take over the picture-taking.

I was convinced he could do it.

And he did.

There was just one hiccup to the idea.

The pictures?

They were OF HIMSELF.

Not of the cookie-making process.

I took back my camera.

Cookie dough on a cookie sheet about to be cookied. Yummmmmmmmm.

And then it was time to clean up. But Hippo was nowhere to be found.

Uncle Chef, do you know where Hippo is?

Nevermind, I found him.

That was fast work, Hippo.

That means you get to do the dishes. Suds up!

The End

Thank you, James!

This post is for you.

Heart Armour

2011-11-11T17:26:00.000-05:00

The Heart

Make sure that your heart
Isn't too well defended:
Your heart is designed
To be broken and mended.

-JonArno Lawson, Think Again

I love this poem.

I copied it down to remind myself not to build a stoic wall around my heart whenever I'm feeling exposed or hurt or sad or disappointed.

To not have a hard attitude between me and others most of the time.

That feeling vulnerable is okay. It's essential to experiencing life authentically.

And perhaps, if I let down my wall, people wouldn't misinterpret me so frequently.

One consequence I never thought about is:
Sometimes, being aloof hurts other people's feelings.
And that, I never want to do.

THANK YOU

2011-10-27T23:59:00.000-04:00

It always surprises me when I get an email from a reader telling me how much they loved a particular post, or a comment telling me how funny I am.

Especially when it's coming from people I don't know and have never met.

Because it means my sister may not be biased after all.

And MY HEAD IS GETTING REALLY BIG in case you couldn't tell.

So, a great big THANK YOU for all the comments and emails and gchats, or whatever form of flattery you've been sending my way.

I love talking to you about my posts, reading the comments you leave, and getting the emails you send.

I appreciate the time you take reading what I write and responding to it.

Keep 'em coming.

'Cause who doesn't like being told how awesome they are?

Translator . . . sort of

2011-10-26T23:28:00.000-04:00

I spent this past weekend translating between my mother and her mother, aka my grandma.

You're wondering, why would I need to translate between the two?

Because my mom is soft-spoken.

And my Gma is hard of hearing.
Sometimes.

So, the weekend looked like this:

mama: i'm going to park the car.
Me: Okay.
mama: you two go first, since grandma takes a while to get to places.
Grandma: What'd your mom say?
ME: GRANDMA, MY MOM SAID WE SHOULD GO FIRST.
Grandma: What is your mom doing?
ME: SHE'S GOING TO PARK THE CAR AND WAIT UNTIL WE GET A SEAT.
Grandma: What?
ME: MY MOM'S GOING TO WAIT IN THE CAR UNTIL WE GET A SEAT.

mama: what do you want to eat?
Grandma: What?
ME: GRANDMA, MY MOM SAID, WHAT DO YOU WANT TO EAT?

mama: do you want more tea?
Grandma: What?
ME: GRANDMA, MOM SAID, DO YOU WANT MORE TEA?

mama: how's the soymilk?
Grandma: What?
ME: MOM SAID, HOW'S THE SOYMILK?

mama: eat some soup dumplings.
Grandma: What?
ME: EAT SOME SOUP DUMPLINGS.

mama: tell your grandma we're going out.
ME: GRANDMA, WE'RE GOING OUT FOR A LITTLE BIT.

So really, I wasn't a translator but a

Loudspeaker
Amplifier
Microphone

between my mom and Gma this weekend.

The joy that is family.

Excuse me while I go make some honey tea for my throat.

20 Days

2011-10-25T22:24:00.000-04:00

I'm going to turn 29 soon.

In 20 days, to be exact.

That means there are only 20 days left of my 20s.

It's made me think about a lot of things.

Mostly,

what I've done so far,

what I hope to accomplish in the next decade,

the people I love,

how I live my life and whether that is the way I should live it.

Pretty light stuff, right?

There really is no point to this post.

I tried to be funny.

But that's hard to do when I'm trying to be serious.

It also gets confusing.

Forgive me while I sort some things out.

Confuzzled,
Me

In which I realize I don't know how to spell my cousin's name

2011-10-09T03:58:00.000-04:00

It was Rosh Hashanah about a week and a half ago, and my sister posted this video on her Facebook wall for her Jewish friends:

I saw it and immediately thought it'd be a fun way of wishing my cousin-in-law a Happy Rosh Hashanah.

But then I realized I didn't have his email so I was going to post the video on Facebook and tag both of my cousins.

But then I realized I wasn't friends with him on Facebook so I was going to search for him and friend him.

But then I realized I didn't know his last name¹ so I was going to ask my cousin what her husband's last name was.

But then I realized I didn't know how my cousin-in-law spelled his first name. There are two possible variants and I could not for the life of me remember which way it was written on the wedding invitation.

So then, I emailed my sister to ask about it and well, I don't know why I thought she would know because my sister can't read English.

So then, I'm like CRAP, I'm such a bad cousin, I don't even know how to spell my own cousin's name AND I don't know his last name. GREAT.

So then I'm like, now I really have to send him this video to show that I care and I'm thinking up ways to do it without letting on that I'm a turdball when...................Rosh Hashanah passes me by.

I fail.

Sorry cousin dude. I tried. It's the thought that counts, right?
Except you don't even know I had the thought.
Unless you read this post.
Happy Belated Rosh Hashanah.
Except now it's Yom Kippur.²
Boy, I'm really behind.

¹ What? I don't even know my own grandmother's name. I'm not joking. I only know my grandmother as Grandma. I asked my mom once what my grandmother's name was and she yelled at me for being rude. I still don't know my grandmother's name. I need to go find her passport or something. Or, I can just ask my grandma what her name is. But that would be too easy.^return

² Yeah, it's technically over now but since I started writing this post on Saturday, it's still Yom Kippur in my head. Yeah, I'm really really behind.^return

How to pick up a girl, Tip #3

2011-09-30T11:46:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I forget I'm Asian.

Until I'm reminded again, when a guy comes up to me and says Konnichiwa.

And then I'm like, Wrong country, Asshole.

And then he's like, You're not Japanese?

And then I'm like, No.

And then he's like, Korean? Annyeonghaseyo.

And then I'm like, What?

And then he's like, NO WAY, YOU'RE NOT KOREAN?

(Like that's the most shocking thing in the world. You were wrong the first time, Buddy. Please, let's continue playing this Guess My Race game 'cause it's sooooooo much fun. Stop keeping me in suspense here. I need to know what race I am!)

And then I shake my head No and start to walk away, which is what I should've done in the first place when he said hello. In Japanese.

At which point, he starts shouting behind me, Neih Hou, I got it! You're Chinese! You gotta be Chinese!

Close, Buddy, real close.
But it's too late.
Three strikes and you're out.

And, Really? Do you Really want to date a girl who uses Like in every sentence she says?

The next time this happens, I think I'm going to respond with Hell-No Whitebread. Or, Hell-No Blackbread. Or, Hell-No Brownbread. Or, ... You get the picture.

Disclaimer: This doesn't mean that I mind talking about my race/culture/heritage whilst in a conversation. If you have a question, if you're curious about something, ask.

I welcome that.

Just don't do this to me when I'm walking down the street. Or as the first thing you say to me when I meet you. 'Cause it makes me want to slap you. Really hard.

My Mama

2011-09-29T10:25:00.000-04:00

Because I love my mama, I'm going to talk about her today.
My mama loves me.
She makes me lunch everyday. But you already knew that.
And sometimes, when she really loves me, my mama likes to help me do things.

For example, once upon a time, at the end of sophomore year, my mom and sister drove up to my college in my uncle's Jeep in order to pick me up and help me move out of my dorm.

While my sister and I hauled, sweated, and stacked my garbage bags¹ of stuff into the Jeep, my mother moved this:

In case you aren't able to discern anything from my extraordinary drawing skills, let me clarify things for you:

Just to reiterate, in case you missed it, my sister and I moved this:

While my mom moved this:

My mama loves me.
Mucho much.

¹ What? Garbage bags are the new cardboard boxes.^return

A conversation about lunch

2011-09-26T17:10:00.000-04:00

Co-worker 1: What's for lunch?

Co-worker 2: Peanut butter and rice crackers.

Co-worker 3: Veggie burger.

Co-worker 4: Leftover Chinese.

Co-worker 5: Salad.

Me: Pigs' feet.¹

(One of these is not like the other.²)

Co-worker 1: Awesome.

And by awesome, I think he means: Please don't eat your lunch in front of me.

¹ Pigs' feet or pig's trotters as they're more commonly called are good for you, according to my mom. All those tendons are supposed to keep joints healthy. Have bad knees? Eat pigs' feet. Or, according to this Telegraph article, eat it because the collagen will keep you young.^return

² And why I bring pigs' feet to work instead of something more innocuous.^return