Every Simple Song

Story: Birthday!

2008-09-06T22:21:00.000-07:00

Since my mum and I are both September babies, we decided to celebrate one day after my birthday and one day before hers...namely today. :) We had a lovely celebration, including lunching, sampling, browsing and cake-picking at Whole Foods and a deeelicious seafood dinner at the Fish Market.

Yay for bibs!

Mmmmmm. Cioppino! I've been dying to go to Fish Market ever since I tried some at my friend's place.

Yay for family. :)

Let them eat cake! (From left to right: lemon tartlette, fruit tartlette, vanilla bean cheesecake, cappuccino cheesecake, and mini tiramisu in the back)

What's so special about birthdays? I've given much thought since my parents don't understand my and the rest of America's fascination with birthdays. Maybe it's due to the fact that they grew up at a different time in a different culture, or just the fact that they're both pragmatists, but my parents believe, birthdays are nothing special. As my dad says it's somebody's birthday every day.

But I beg to differ. Celebrating birthdays is not so much celebrating the annivarsary of birth as celebrating a person's existence. I mean, what's so special about going to sleep one night and waking up a "older" person the next morning? Sure, you can legally do more things when you turn 16, then 18 and then 21. However, you're still the same person you were before. Maturity isn't determined by birthdays but by experience. However, birthdays are convienant pre-picked days for you to celebrate life, party, and throw caution to the wind. I'm not saying you shouldn't enjoy life and spend quality time with the people you love the other 364 days of the year, however on this particular day it's nice to be the center of attention, recieve gifts, and feel appreciated. :)

Okay, I'm getting off my soapbox now, but I'm really grateful for all the sweet, lovely and amazing people I have in my life and I want to thank everybody for celebrating my 18th with me. :)

Story: A Dentist Visit

2008-09-02T19:55:00.000-07:00

As I lay on the reclined dentist chair, my dentist measured the length of my gums, "3. 2. 2. 3. 2. 2. 3." He suddenly paused, and just when I thought he was going to inform me that I had contracted a gum disease in which my all teeth would fall out one-by-one, or some other horrible medical condition that still resulted in all my teeth falling out one-by-one, he broke into a huge smile and said, “I still think it’s wonderful news that you’re heading off to Prestigious Institution!” for the umpteenth time. He went on to tell me that Prestigious Institution has a gorgeous campus and that if he was accepted he would have definitely chose it over UC College and that it was a great opportunity to meet scholars from all around the world and, oh yeah, he was very happy for me.

I am in no way trying to poke fun of him. It was all very pleasant hearing these nice things about my intended school of choice and it didn’t hurt that he and the hygienist seemed to take a liking to me even though they’ve just met me today, just because I will attend Prestigious University.

But that’s the very core of what baffles me. By just name-dropping the school I will attend, I seem to have bypassed societal norms of proving myself worthy. It’s as if what little academic prowess I possess and the ability to thwart admission officers’ attempt to put me in the Reject pile automatically makes me a good person.

I never gave it any thought throughout the college application and college selection process, but attending a university, at least in the outside world, comes with baggage beyond my control. I wonder if I had told them I will UC I’m near Hollywood or even UC Hippyland, what their reactions would be. I bet if I told them I attended a state university or a JC, they wouldn’t have so much as blinked an eye. I’m not saying they wouldn’t have liked me, but I feel that they would have perceived me differently.

Sadly (maybe sadly?) I don’t function any differently. If I met a student from Another Prestigious University, I would imagine a stellar student who single handedly saved the world from global dimming while penning the Great American Novel in her spare time between her Olympic gymnastic workouts. And she would probably run a soup kitchen from the back of her house and probably spends quality time with her grandparents every weekend.

Bottom line is, people expect things from you just because of the school you will attend. Do they have a right to? I don’t know. I’m not saying the people who attend these institutions don’t deserve to go there, because I’m sure they have earned every right. But is it right to attach so much meaning to a single school? I’m not a better person just because I will attend Prestigious University. My admission officer probably won the lottery or got her tax rebate back the day she admitted me. I have wittier, kinder, and smarter friends who go elsewhere. Yet, I seem to have fallen in the good graces with neighborhood parents and family friends because of this.

Maybe it’s because I have come to expect similar reactions from people when they learn of Prestigious University, that I try to hide it from them. I don’t want to them to learn it if I can help it. It is not that I try to defy the media-induced stereotype of a quiet Asian nerd, because, as I quickly learned at various Admit Weekend programs for prospective freshmen, most intelligent students aren’t like that. But I do want to be more complex than just a stereotype. I like shopping and keeping up with the latest fashion trends. I like reading trashy magazines like Cosmogirl and Seventeen. I have a boyfriend. I enjoy playing sports. However, I also do like thumbing through Rand, Brontë, and Márquez in my free time. I find scientific and mathematical breakthroughs exciting. And I’ll even attempt to learn Japanese and Italian when I’m bored of reading Spanish novels.

However, I would rather others underestimate me so that I would never have to disappoint them. I want to earn people’s trust, admiration, and respect rather than buying it with a few A’s. In the end, it is not about the grades you earn, the school you attend, or even the job you have, but the way you live your life. I want to live mine making the world a better place.

Story: Harry Potter

2008-09-01T20:52:00.000-07:00

Each time I reread any of J.K. Rowling's novels, I am awestruck by the sheer brilliance of the world and storyline she has created. It almost seems impossible that a series brimming with complex characters and fluid plot was given birth by only one person. As I write this, I am in the midst of rereading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince and my stomach is gripped by the same feeling of suspense, excitement, and reluctance that I felt three years ago when I first read it.

Although there have been many love stories within Harry Potter (Harry + Cho, Hermione + Viktor Krum, Ginny + countless boys, Ron + Lavender, Harry + Ginny, Hermione + Ron, James + Lily), I am most struck by the relationship between Severus Snape and Lily Evans. Of course they never had an actual relationship, but deep down they had always cared for each other, even if Snape's love for Lily wasn't reciprocated. It moves me that after all these years, Snape is inspired to become a nobler person because of his undying love towards Lily. Throughout the series, he has always seems like such a despicable person, but there is actually some good in him. Although I'm not usually a big fan of unrequited love (like, I couldn't stand Heathcliff and Catherine in Wuthering Heights), I really think we are on to something big here.

I think love should be like this. Love should bring out the best in people and motivate them to do good.

Despite their being fictional, I also have a lot of admiration for the other characters in Harry Potter. What strongly stands out to me about Sirius, Lupin, Dumbledore, Tonks, Hagrid, George, Fred, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and others I have forgotten to name, include their unwavering loyalty to friends; ability to laugh and love in the face of such dark times; and willingness to fight for what they believe is right even when others think they're crazy. And of course they probably have sexy British accents to boot.

I remember fondly, probably like many of my peers, how I would use to playact Hogwarts. My third grade best friend and I used to spend our free time at Daycare penning fictional Hogwarts acceptance letters. Mine were always addressed to either Becky or Jenny Forest since I couldn't decide which name I liked better. We imagined decorating our dormitory with moving pictures of Chudley Cannons and mulled over which types of sweets to buy from the Trolley Witch on the Hogwarts Express (Pumpkin Pasties, Chocolate Frogs, Cauldron Cakes or Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans? I liked Bertie Bott's since the thought of chancing upon kidney-pie or booger flavored jelly bean always tickled my fancy.) We even played Quidditch on the play structure (of course my Firebolt outstripped her Nimbus 2001). Up until my 11th birthday, I secretly hoped Hogwarts really existed and that I was talented enough to receive an owl post bearing my acceptance to this prestigious institution. Of course my 11th birthday came and went with no owl in sight, but to this day, I still secretly believe that out there in the far off British isle, where no Muggle has ever set foot, stands a wizarding school by the name of Hogwarts.

Story: Golden Bear Tutoring Roll Love

2008-08-31T22:16:00.000-07:00

Caterpillar roll, cherry blossom roll, Philadelphia roll, crunchy delight roll, hella hot roll, rock'n roll, no-name roll, Godzilla roll, sex-on-the-beach, crazy monkey roll, and golden bear tutoring roll--ranging from normal to exotic, pretty to the slightly absurd, these are all sushi rolls that I've stumbled across.

As I was perusing the sushi menu of the restaurant P, D, and I had decided to grab lunch at, I wondered what these sushi chefs were thinking when they were naming their creation. Like, how do you come up with "Golden Bear Tutoring Roll" from avocado, salmon, and masago? Because I sure don't see the connection. But, I guess yummy ingredients + a nonsensical name = sushi that I must try!

But all in all, there is nothing that beats catching up with old friends over sushi and mochi ice cream. It was great to see P, D, and M again and chatting with them brought back old memories from our high school days. But we've also moved forward in time as we shared what was going on in our lives. Even though I hadn't seen them in months, it meant a lot to me that I could share the little things in my life with them, and they with me. I rerealized what great friends they are and how lucky I am to have them. I look forward to the many more happy times we will have.

I was especially touched by P and D's unexpected but heart-string-tuggingly-sweet insistence to treat me out to lunch and delicious strawberry mochi ice cream (my favorite!) because of my upcoming birthday. Thanks guys! You really made my day. :)

PS. Unfortunately I didn't have any sushi pictures from today, so I'm substituting in another recent sushi adventure. And we kinda went overboard with the ordering that one time, but I promise that there's more than four people working on finishing that sushi on the table. :) (Props to my friend R. L. who took this crazy amazing photograph.)

Story: Running

2008-08-31T11:43:00.000-07:00

I went running today. Which I guess normally is not all that unusual, since as a cross-country and track-and-field veteran of four years, I've put a lot of mileage on my shoes. However, as of late, I've been leading the sedentary life style: waking up, eating, watching TV, eating, reading, and sleeping. Maybe a short bike ride or two if I want to mix things up, but nothing strenuous. The last time I ran was April 24th, the day of our League Finals and I was in the 800.

I bought a new pair of running shoes yesterday, and, finally, I ran out of excuses on why not to run.

I'd never planned to be a runner. I always thought of myself as the quiet type, the shy girl who would lead a nunnish, bookish life. After all, I already had the nerdy glasses and bookshelves crammed with books. Running was something I stumbled upon. It wasn't love at first sight nor was it a passionate whirlwind affair of romance novels. But slowly, I grew to love this sport because it gave me an opportunity to prove myself. I grew to love it because it felt good to feel my lungs burning after a five-mile hill workout, knowing I pushed myself to my limit of endurance and that I can, and will, do better next time. It felt great to watch my legs transform from tiny cinnamon sticks to sculptured calves that rippled when I flexed. And I loved the camaraderie of my team, for they became my second family.

But as seasons passed, I became jaded and narrow-minded. I ran only so that I could be faster than everybody else and each time I competed it was only so that I could PR. I lost sight of why I initially loved the sport. Running became stressful for me, because I only thought about getting better, and hating myself when I didn't. It wasn't fun anymore, and sometimes, I would secretly wish that I wasn't as fast as I was, and therefore my coach would have lower expectations of me.

I even considered quitting track my junior year, but, I'm ashamed to say, selfishness made me stop. I wanted to be an outstanding female athlete at our school, and I knew that if I joined track and field, I would be guaranteed a spot on the varsity team. But it wasn't until this year that I realized what I was doing to myself. It was probably the college application process and thinking ahead to the future that I realized, it shouldn't matter how I'm doing in my events. In the long run, it's not about breaking a 5:30 mile that should matter, it's about enjoying what I'm doing.

And that's what I thought, when I laced up my running shoes today. I only ran two miles, and probably at 10-minute-mile pace, but I relished every moment of it and can't wait to go running again.

Story: Transition

2008-08-31T00:41:00.000-07:00

Ever since I helped BoFo finish packing and helped ProHo move in a few days ago, my mind has been preoccupied with the notion of college. Back in March and April when we were just getting our college acceptance letters, college was still an abstract concept to me. Sure, I'll be moving out and "living" on my own, but that seemed ages away. After all, I still had a plethora of high school memories to make, from dreaded AP exams to Prom to Graduation and of course my big graduation trip to India. But now, all this is over, and what's left is the absence of two special people in my life, and many others who've already gone off to start the next saga in their life.

I'm excited and can't wait to start either. All the clothes I've been buying, books I've been reading, lists I've been making are my preparation for college. "I wonder if my roommate would want to borrow this scarf; I wonder if anybody else has read The Fountainhead, I wonder if three deep dish sized Tupperware will be enough for me to store food for next year." I feel like I've been preparing for my Move-In day ever since I got my college acceptance.

The last time sunnie and I went shopping, I even dragged her to Anthropologie and made her sit through my silliness as I posed with different cups trying to decide which would be the best late-night-hot-chocolate-sipping-keeping-my-hands-warm-as-I'm-studying-for-my-midterms mug. (We later settled on a homey looking wide-brimmed mug that has butterflies fluttering around the inside and out.)

On a tangent, I did get my permit a few days ago, so I'm excited to start the process of learning to drive. This surprises me, because up until I passed the test, I really wasn't interesting in driving. I've always felt pretty self sufficient with my bike, Cal Train and all. But now that I have the tedious written part of the way, I actually want to get behind the wheel. I suppose this is pretty late for me to learn, with my starting university in a few weeks and all, but I guess, better late than never. Now, I just have to when the earliest time I can sign up for driving classes will be...