Mummy Dearest

I love my parents and I'm sure they love me too.

But if I weren't so sure of that fact, this previous phone conversation on my birthday might have made me question their affection.

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Mom: Hi Honey, how are you doing?

ME: Great. I'm studying as usual. It sucks.

Mom: Awww. Well, we finally got your Christmas present in the mail today.

ME: Sheesh! It's 4 days late! Stupid post-office lady assured me it would arrive before Christmas day

Mom: Well, your dad loves it. He put it on his desk.

ME: Ummmm...Mom...don't you want to tell me something?

Mom: Hmm? Tell you what?

ME: You know...tell me something?

Mom: (silence)

ME: MOMMY!!! Isn't there something you want to TELL me, TODAY?!!!!

Mom: (long pause) OH!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

I turned 21 today (again).

Frederic Douglas, like many former slaves of his generation, never knew his birthdate. Thus, he never really knew how old he was.

Imagine. Imagine having that most central piece of personal identity stripped from you. What is it like to not know how old you are?

If I didn't know that I was born on 12/29/1979, I guess I would constantly be guessing how old I am. And right now...I would guess that I'm...21.

I feel young, naive, on the cusp of adulthood. And heck, I'm still a student. But I've been around the block long enough to be out of my teens.

So as a salute to that great African American orator, I will celebrate my birthday with the age that I feel, not the one that I am.

A Gift From Me to You

Merry Christmas! Here is a senseless SNL video to help you get through the holidays. When all the family has left, the pies have been eaten, and the gifts laid waste...here's one more present waiting for you:

OPEN ME!

The scum of the earth

For those of you with tender hearts, who want to deny the presence of pure evil in this world, I offer proof that should shatter your rose-tinted glasses once and for all:

Tricky virus-laden spam disguised as legit email.

That's right. You've seen them before. They have email addresses like service@bankofamerica.com or account@stanford.edu. And then when you open the inimical instrument, you find there is an attachment you must click on. But woe to you if you do! One false click and you download a virus that may wipe away everything you've worked so hard for and render your laptop nothing more than an overpriced paperweight.

That's evil. Pure evil. Why would anyone do that? Unless they're evil.

It's one thing to send us non-viral spam full of advertisements that would entice those who have a weakness for porn and gambling. I can see that you have a business you're trying to run and my detriment is your gain.

But it's quite another thing to just plant a dumb virus in my computer and cost me dearly without you ever get anything out of it! Except the sheer pleasure of knowing you are hurting others. You suck.

There's a special place in hell for people like you.

Maybe I'm trying to tell me something...

The body never lies.

I may tell myself: I'm not stressed; There's no reason to worry; etc. until I'm blue in the face. But my body is evincing signs that I'm just deep in a river in Africa, De-Nile.

For five years I haven't had so much as one cold sore blister. And now I've had two in just one month! For three years I've only been really sick maybe once or twice. And now I'm sick twice in under a month!

Although the reality is that I really have NO reason to get stressed, I must still be really stressed. But why should I be? I don't think it's about school because I've never cared that much and I'm pretty much assured of straight B's (which is good because, in my world, "B" stands for "!Bueno!").

I think I'm stressed about "work-life" balance, or lack thereof. They say that socializing with people is a great and effective way of boosting your immune system. And I have to admit, I haven't socialized in a very, very long time.

But the body's reaction to not getting enough "people time" is pretty counterintuitive: To grow disgusting sores and feel ill? Like that's really going to help the socializing any!

Takes one to know one...

I took a quickie test to see how well I understood men. I think the results are readily explainable by saying that I've always sympathized with guys more than girls. If I took a test about how well I understood women, I'd surely flunk.

You Have Your PhD in Men

You understand men almost better than anyone. You accept that guys are very different, and you read signals well. Work what you know about men, and your relationships will be blissful.

How Well Do You Understand Men?

Ma vie en pluie

(picture courtesy of dalicasso)

I'm guessing he/she didn't like the sermon...

This past Sunday was supposed to be the day Michael and I took our "Boston Christmas Card Photo."

I had waited weeks for the perfect conditions to make an ideal photo: Plenty of clean white snow, bright blue skies, and Michael and me dressed-up in festive colors (aka nice church-clothes). This Sunday was the first that all these conditions were right. And Michael, who was stalwartly resistent to the whole idea, had to comply because it caused him no great inconvenience. He would be present and dressed-up anyway.

But this Sunday came and went and it didn't happen. Why? Because at that opportune moment when all the stars were rightly aligned, I wasn't in the mood to smile.

I couldn't smile because this Sunday when I went back to the church pew, after service and after socializing in the main hall, I discovered that my purse was missing. I had left it on my jacket and gloves in the center of the pew and all that greeted me when I returned to retrieve my things, were my jacket and gloves.

Now, I don't like assuming that theft occurs behind church walls, but I think the most likely conclusion of the matter is that SOMEONE STOLE MY PURSE!

The inconvenience and grief and obvious financial loss, however, is not as upsetting as the fact that I'm not going to get that great holiday photo now! That ship has sailed, that window has closed, and that door has shut! Well, I suppose I could try again on the 18th, but if there's no good snow and sky that day, it'll be one photoless Christmas for the Chungs. And besides, I don't like to send out my cards that late.

Ah, the true spirit of Christmas

I have a post-it on my desk with the title "Xmas List."

On it I record all the things I want to buy myself for Christmas.

Michael eyed it today and in the middle of grabbing it said, "Oooo, is this a list of what you are going to get me for Christmas?!"

Yes, its every man for himself at the Chung household. We're like the anti-thesis of the couple in O'Henry's The Gift of the Magi.

I guess you had to be there

Today it snowed like crazy! It was amazing!

The snow was so fresh and powdery, the exact consistency of powdered sugar. There was such a gratifying crunch when you sink your feet into the deep drifts. And I made my very first snow angel!

The snow fell on all the bare tree braches and made them look like huge glistening snowflakes. It was really one of the greatest sights I've ever experienced; right up there with liquid gold sunsets.

I wonder if native New Englanders get as excited as I do about the snow. It's so great, I bet they do. How could anyone tire of this breathtaking beauty? I understand that snow can be gross and dirty and icy, but I'm talking about the softest, purest, fluffiest flakes you ever saw.

Ok, this is probably the boringest post I've posted in a while because I just can't stop ranting and raving about the snow! The snow! It's beautiful! It just makes me want to jump around in it and make a million snow angels and have snowball fights and more!

But no, can't. Stupid finals!!

Welcome to the real world

For the last two days Dr. Phil has been doing his "love smart" series.

He's helping women in their thirties snag a man. These women, for one reason or another, never get asked out on that "second date." There's a lot of hidden cameras and microphones so the audience can sneak a peek at the participants' dates and analyze what they did wrong during the lunch or dinner.

One woman was just awful. A total barbarian. At the sushi restaurant she played with all their food and touched everything with her germy fingers, just to touch it! And then she repeatedly insulted where her date was from, which was Ohio. She derisively called it "Cow-town." And maybe worst of all, she pelted him with questions rapid-fire-style about his dating past, ex-girlfriends, and commented on his answers with nothing but negative assumptions. "So, you're a serial dater" "So, you're a jerk" etc...

Anyway, I watched with morbid interest.

I thought to myself, "This is a whole genre of life that I may never know about." I've never been on a "get to know each other" date with anyone, ever. My brother, on the other hand, now that he's edging on thirty, is starting to become an old pro at this. But no one has ever said to me, "Oh, you should meet so-and-so, he's really great and you two would really hit it off. I'll have him call you next week and ask you out to lunch sometime."

I met my husband when I was nineteen (gosh that sounds so ridiculously young to me now) and that was pretty much it.

But I do always wonder what it would be like to go on those awkward "getting acquainted" quasi-dates. On one hand it sounds like great fun: go out to eat, watch a movie, go to a bowling alley, whatever...and all paid for too! What could be so bad about that? But I guess it could be a real ego-crusher if you never get that second date.

All in all, I think I'm grateful not to ever have to go on that roller-coaster of uncertainty. There's so many things that people (including myself) could be picky about and the chances of liking the person you've been set up with is depressingly small.

It just seems so much more romantic to "bump" into your love when you least expect it, when you're not even looking.

But that's all Hollywood lies and crap that you get from watching too many inane romantic comedies. Fiction would have us believe that the gods just magically set up two hearts that were "meant to beat as one" in some coincidental accident.

"Oh, you ride this train too?"
"No, but I just missed my usual one cause my cat got sick and I had to call a vet before catching this train."
"Oh, well, there's only one empty seat left, next to me..."
Blech!

The real world is Dr. Phil taping your first date and telling you that you need to ask better questions and maintain eye-contact with your date.

Pure snow, moldy water, and no life

Today it snowed! Finally. Everything looked beautiful, like in a postcard. So this picture isn't the best representation of what it looked like.

Also, I solved the mystery of why my stomach hurts like crazy sometimes.

I think it's because I drink moldy water. I haven't washed my cantene for...maybe a month? And I saw mold in it today. I drank out of it so much yesterday...and come to think of it, the water was strangely murky.

Lately, my time has been consumed by applying for summer jobs and studying for finals. I wish I could have my life back. Everyday I make all these half-ass resolutions in my head that next semester, I'm NOT going to let school take over my life. But if I were a betting girl, I'd bet against me on those odds. But people can change!

Two Chinese Students Make Me *sniff* Proud

I've never been particularly proud of being Chinese. Until this week.

I mean, sure we built the great wall; and our civilization is ancient; and we invented a lot of things centuries before other nations did.

All of that doesn't really mean anything to me though. None of that added so much good to humanity that I could hold it up and say, "Wow, I'm proud to be Chinese."

Until this week. I saw this short video clip of two Chinese students, and for the first time in my life, I stood a little taller, head a litte higher, and with hand on heart, thought:

Yes, this makes me proud to be Chinese.

P.S. Don't you dare leave this blog without watching the clip!!! This is my people at their finest hour! (And make sure your sound is on to hear the clip).