"Self-portrait"

I am excited for school. Yep, it sounds strange, but knowing that I have only 8 more months til graduation makes me happy :-) School just started and my desk is full of books and papers already. Well it's what I get for taking 7 classes in my senior year haha. But I can do it! Anyways, one of my homework is taking 3 "self-portrait" pictures. "Self-portrait" is in quotation because I cannot have my face in the pictures, but the objects that represent my personality. Uhm I have never approached photography because I don't have that kind of artsy sense which can recognize or read the soul behind the objects haha. I think photographers are amazing artists... Even though I do painting and drawing, the way I perceive art is different from photography. Anyways, with my crappy digital camera (I am just thrilled to know that my school is lending us those professional "bulky" camera soon hehe!), I walked around my apartment and took 3 close-up shots of those objects which I thought to be a good representation for my personality.

A stack of textbooks - hardworking?

Uhm no, it does not mean I'm a nerd. I wish I was one though. Why books? Well, when I was in high school, which was a life-turning-point for kids in Vietnam, I screwed up. While other kids spent all their time studying in order to get into the best universities, I just ran around and caused troubles. I think it was in senior year when mom wrote me a letter. Sway from the main topic for a bit, but writing letters has been a tradition among my mom, little sister, and me. There was always something we could not express in person, and letters had become the best communication tool of us. Words were poured onto that thin piece of paper and that was how we set our problems straight. I love it. Anyways, back to mom's letter before I left home for college in the States..

"Dear my daughter,

[...]Your grandpa passed away when I was 6 and grandma alone raised three of her kids up. People looked down on us because of what we wore and ate. It broke my heart to see grandma work so hard, yet barely fed three hungry mouths, and she had to bear with the cruel judgement of society. I could not do anything, but studied hard to make her happy. I am where I am now is because of education. Thi, education is important. In our family, the only way to stand up is education...[...]"

Well, I grew up experiencing with some unhappy moments of that unfairness happening in our own family, but the young selfish me just wanted to ignore the matter. Even though mom had been telling about the story, it just went from this ear to another one. But that letter, blurry texts from her tears, hit me hard. That's why I am working very hard in college. It is not only because of me but also my loved ones who have always been proud and supportive.

Art supply - artsy?

I love art. A lot. Very. Freaking. Much. But I wasn't supported to major in art. Even high school cut the art program out. I keep it as a hobby though. It's something I can sit all day and bury myself in colors (sadly my schedule is a jealous b*tch). Anyways, it's just my stress outlet:-)

Sticker note - ambivert?

My sister and I are going through a tough time. One night she came home, burst into tears, and that was when I felt so powerless. I have always thought I have my life in control, yet the fact that I couldn't protect my little sister from inevitable broken heart made me feel weak. We were raised to believe that actions were stronger than words, so we barely expressed our love verbally. We learned the way to feel and perceive love from what others do for us, not what they say to us. I did not know what to do at that time and I had to leave early in the morning, so I left a sticker note on her laptop. Days later, it was still there, so I asked her why she didn't throw it away. "Well," she said, "it is nice to have some evidence of your love once in awhile, isn't it?" That melted my heart :-)

Okay, enough of random things :-) At least I just dusted my blog haha.

On writing...

I have to admit that I like writing. A lot. I don't know what has happened to me. When I was young, I could write whatever I want just in a flash. Now, I just stare at my laptop screen for hours and all I can think of is some sentences. Sometimes, I want to write something beautiful and sophisticating, yet I end up scribble something a kindergarten kid can come up with. Sigh. So, to figure out what is wrong with my wild child's imagination, I had an assembly with my brain. Well, it was a frustrating meeting with her...

Me: Okay brain, I have an idea. My life is fantastic! Let's write something to show my appreciation to everyone who makes it better. Something nice and philosophically...uhm...some life lessons...You know? Make it beautiful! Make it sparkle! So everyone knows I can write?

Brain: Hmm okay...How about "I love banana?"

Me: No, no, no, not about food! Well, if you don't want to write about philosophy, let's write about my loved ones, okay? About my beautiful childhood? What shapes me into who I am today? How about that? Those sound spectacular, don't them?

Brain: Ohh, I get it! I fart rainbow!

Me: Are you kidding me, brain? Can you just work with me once? Fine, I go to bed. Bed sounds better than you. Zz Zz Zz....Hmm so comfortable...

Brain: Hey, wake up, lazy butt! The world is waiting for you out there! The birds are chirping over the rainbow and they want you to depict the beauty of the nature. Get your butt off the bed and start writing! Life is fantastic and you cannot waste it by sleeping, idiot! I can see sparkling fairy flying. I can see flowers flowing. I can see stars twinkling. Come on!

Me: Oh gosh...Why?

So...that is the story why I have not had any decent posts on my blog...

Nostalgia of dad

Dad used to be my hero. He used to be the one who I looked for comfort and protection. Things happened. People changed. The way I looked at him changed, but from deep down the bottom of my heart, I love him a lot.

My dad was a carpenter. He blew souls into ugly pieces of wood. He made our furniture. I still remember how spoiled I was when I asked for a customized bookshelf where I could make a fort underneath. To me, he was a magician. I spent my childhood with him because mom was busy working all day. His wood scrapes were my Lego. I built cities. I built villages. I built my dreams... "Daddy, when I grow up, I want to be a carpenter like you! So I can help you with work!" said little me. Dad smiled at me, "no, you're a girl. I don't want you to do hard work."  To me, dad was a superhero. He could lift me up and spin me around. "Daddy, I can fly! I'll be a superman when I grow up! So I can save the world!" I excitedly yelled while making flying gestures. He smiled and said, "no, you're a girl. I don't want the whole world to be on your shoulders." I was too little to understand what he meant. To me, he was a guardian. He literally kicked butts of those neighbor kids who made me cry. "Daddy, I want to be a boy when I grow up. So no one can make me cry!" sobbing little me said. Dad ran his fingers through my hair and said, "no, you're a girl. It's okay to cry. And if someone makes you cry, I won't forgive those people." At that time, I knew I'd always be daddy's little girl.

Time flew by. I didn't talk to him as much any more. We exchanged some awkward conversations when I was in high school, and I guess it is normal to any teenagers who have to go through "growing up" crisis. I changed. He changed. Life changed. But there's one thing I know is that his love for me will never change. It has been almost three years since I left Vietnam. I don't know how I endure with this feeling of missing my loved ones for so long. Sometimes, I just want to give in everything and come home, where I can be a baby. Sometimes, the cruelness of life makes me cry, but dad is not here to "kick their butts" like he said...

Perhaps, this makes me stronger. Perhaps, this makes me appreciate more what I am having. Perhaps, this makes me love my family more. And for sure, family is the greatest treasure that I have with me in this adventure of life. "We are sorry that we couldn't afford a birthday cake for you, but here is the glass of juice. We wish the best for you and we want to let you know that we love you very much, our princess." That's what dad said in my earliest memory of a birthday . Since then I know I am the luckiest princess in the world. Dad, I miss and love you a lot. And it's hurt...

The trace of digital identity

If before we used our biological features as our identity forms or presence marks (e.g. finger prints, footprints, etc.), nowadays, this world of bits records every single move of ours with digital footprints. Most of us find the Internet useful and we are still excited to explore this new toy. However, a lot of Internet users have no idea how much personal information they have made accessible on the Internet.

I watched We Live in Public, a documentary about Josh Harris - an Internet Pioneer, and Josh reminded me of Guy, a character in Transmission of Hari Kunzru (Well, this book has my vote for the most interesting reading in the course besides the Ghost Map haha). Both of them are bright people who have great ideas and both of them, in the end, run away from the glossy world to hide in a rural area, yet their digital identities still haunt them.

For Josh Harris, the idea of capturing his daily live and have it live on the Internet was bizarre to me. People crave for attention every single minute and they would do anything to have that fifteen-minute fame. The experiment turned Josh from a creative artist to a destructive individual. Everything he put on the Internet transformed into bit and stayed there forever. For Guy, a creative marketer, his idea is to combine physical database and biometrics as identification to prevent illegal immigrants. Ironically, his idea betrayed him with Leela, the sweet virus, and made him get identified as an illegal immigrant and get deported. Later, when Guy tries to run away from everything and hide in a place no one knows, it is still easy to track him down before of those bits on the magnetic stripe on his credit cards, the money in his bank, the fame that he has, etc. Everything defines his digital identity.

I feel kind of ironic how I am studying about media and sometimes I find it hard to control the information I share on the Internet. To save time and save money, I am willing to share my personal information (talking about those loyalty cards or toll tag) and those information bits will be stored forever, yet I have no idea about who has control over them. Sometimes, I tell myself that I'd take a break from the digital world when I'm done with school (since all my school work is online based), but I catch myself constantly checking my email and other networking accounts wondering what people would react if I disappear virtually (especially when I am half an earth away from home). And then, I realize that I am just another sheep who wants attention just like Josh Harris and leave my digital footsteps everywhere in this digital world just like Guy. And sometimes, I just want to be like Arjun, to really disappear without any trace tied to identity (Well, it's a metaphor. I don't want to physically disappear haha).

Dog attacking and same-sexed parents

Well the title is misleading because there is no connection between those two statements. They are just random encounters I ran into today and I want to jot them down before heading to dream land haha.

This morning, I got attacked by two big dogs while riving my bike to school (Thanks to the bike which helped me block the dogs). Good thing is I wasn't injured, and the police came on time. When I told this incident to everyone, the first thing they asked after "are you okay?" was "so did you sue the owner?" I felt funny because at that moment, to be able to get out of the scene was my top mission, but then when I think about it, I forgot that I was living in America. Why America? Blame on my shallow thoughts, but I think American's individualism is too high that they get offended at every small thing which invades their comfort zone. Get burned by a cup in a coffee shop. Sue! Fall on the driveway of a neighbor. Sue! Broke  a leg while breaking into someone's house. Sue!

It didn't take me long to forget the dog attacking accident. Now it's become a joke about my history of being attacked by dogs. Move on. Today, at work, there were this white couple with a colored skin baby coming in. The baby was absolutely adorable and she was waving at me the whole time ♥ It is funny how I am from a conservative Asian country and I didn't even notice that the parents were a same-sexed couple until my boss pointed it out to me. I was a little surprised and amazed because it was the first time I had seen a same-sexed couple with an adopted baby. "Mama!" the baby said, and my manage turned to me frowned, "This is so confusing. How can the kid know which one is mama?" At that moment, she kind of got on my nerve. Well, the baby doesn't need to indicate which parent is her mom because she has two mamas, which means double awesome! Being homosexual is not their choice and being judged by the society is out of their controls. In the end, I believe that any individual has the right to be with the one they love.

Jan 16th already?

I am so excited that school starts tomorrow! It's been a very long break (5 weeks ugh). This is the first break that I am not taking any classes, yet it's been the most productive one because I reached all the goals I set. It is weird that when I feel like writing something, I sit down and all ideas just wait for that moment to take a vacation. There have been so many times when I type something and backspace, backspace, backspace, and then "screw it, I'm not going to write any more." Yep, I am not too persistent, but now I have to do it because uhm I want to improve my sloppy and choppy writing skill?

So I have been waking up 30 minutes earlier everyday to exercise and "take" my daily writing dose haha. I hope I can keep this up. Last week, I rode my bike to Starbucks, and this little girl came to me when I was locking my bike. She said,"Wow you ride a bike? That's so cool! But why are you riding a bike? Don't you have a family?" That kind of hit me in the face haha. People don't see girls riding bikes around in Dallas often. I used to care about what they think when they see an Asian girl riding bike around, but then I realized that wouldn't change any pieces of my life.

Thank you for Dallas for having such favorable weather so far ♥

Daily dose of writing

I came across my Tumblr page from a year ago and I am amazed at how things had changed... I will try to spare at least thirty minutes a day to write about whatever.

I was on my own the whole time since I came to the States two and a half years ago. Homesick was horrible. No matter how strong you are, the feeling of missing your loved ones will flow in every single veins of yours. Sometimes I wonder why I left my family to be here and endure with all the things, but life is not just simply about asking questions and expecting someone to answer them. I have my goals and I am happy about everything I do. It's what matters.

My younger sister just moved here and stayed with me some months ago. I have been always telling her how much I miss her, and every time she replies, "But I'm already here. How come you still miss me?" I guess my definition of missing is different from hers. I think missing brings the mental connotation. I miss doing the things that we used to do when we were young. I miss the innocent childhood. I miss the dinner time with family. The missing carries the feeling I have with those special people; it's not when they are physically being here or not. Both of us are working and going to school, and I hate to see my sister bearing with all the things which are not for a girl her age. I hate seeing her stressing out about money for school and living. I hate seeing her having to take public transportation for two hours to school. I hate it when we seem to let money take over our lives. It just hurts me too much... But those obstacles we are going through will make us stronger and more appreciative. Only one more year and a half until I graduate... As soon as I start working and making money, I swear I won't let my little sister endure with these things any more...