In 2006, I was given a fresh start. I had moved to a new city, new state, new home, new school. For the first time, I got to choose my classes, not the other way around. I finally got to be in classes I would have never thought I could like web design and choir. Continue reading “Socializing is Not for Me” →
When the assignment said to write about loss, I seriously couldn’t think of a thing. I was going to go full fiction but something came to me at the last second. I hope this is not too sad. Thanks for reading. Continue reading “Writing 101: Serially Lost” →
I hate it and dread it every year. Will someone pull a prank on me? Will someone prank me so hard that my chest pound and I have to watch my back the entire freaking day? Will I get hurt? I might be able to stand pain but I hate to get hurt. Continue reading “So Not a Fan” →
Head throbbing, throat aching, voice going coarse, and my bottle of anger is full again.
My weekend was crappy, worse than usual but I’m not going to complain. I’m going to let it out another way, a story. I’ve weaved my crappy weekend into a tale between two roommates, Leslie and Sarah. First, I should apologize for this incredibly long post (I can’t help it) but anyway, enjoy the dramatic tale. 🙂
Leslie sat before her computer on a Saturday morning, studying for an afternoon exam. After more than 6 months, she still hadn’t adjusted to fact that she had to find her own time to complete the exams for her classes. At least this one’s open-book, open-notes, she thought happily. She wouldn’t had to go through the tedious process of making a half-page note-card.
By noon, her stomach was growling. She often skips breakfast to save time on studying. So she quickly went to the pantry, pulled a ramen from a plastic bag with her name on it, and popped it into a bowl. She dumped the tiny bag of soup mix, added the water, and popped it into the microwave. By the time she finished with her ramen, she heard a click of the locks. Sarah was home.
“Hey, Les, can you help me with these groceries?” Sarah was carrying at least six bags of food.
Leslie took four bags and hurried to the kitchen. “What are you trying to do? Feed an army?” She dropped the bags on the counter.
“They’re for both of us, duh.” Even then, it would be too much. Leslie went to the sink and clean up while Sarah put her purse on the chair. “Listen, I need your help with something.”
“What?” Leslie asked as she wiped her hands dry.
“I have this paper due Monday and I’m wondering if you can help me since, well, your writing is better mine.”
“What is it on?” Leslie asked quickly.
“It’s a research paper, 6-9 pages. I don’t know what’s on yet. The instructor wasn’t clear.”
“Well, you’ll have to wait. I have to go take the exam.”
“Then go,” Sarah replied. “We can talk about it when you get home.”
Three hours later, Leslie finally came home. The exam took much longer than she had thought. It was 24 questions on 30 pages and each question took forever to complete. Tired but still full of energy, she knocked on Sarah’s door and almost instantly, Sarah wrenched the door open, shoving a paper in Leslie’s face.
“You see this?” Sarah shrieked. Leslie grabbed the paper and looked at it carefully. It was the rubric for the assignment. “It makes completely no sense! He doesn’t explain anything. He just gives the assignment and expects us to understand it at a snap of a finger.”
“The paper said to pick four or more variables affecting the operating environment. What kind of operating environment?” Sarah led her to her laptop sitting on the desk and showed her a PowerPoint presentation on Argentina. “What does Argentina have to do with anything?”
“He assigns us each a country and we’re supposed to apply the variables.”
Leslie frowned. “I don’t know. What do you want me to do exactly?” Sarah handed her an index card. On it are the words, “political, military, economics, social, information, infrastructure.”
“These are the things I need you to research and write about. I will write the rest.” She switched the screen to a word document. “It’s all formatted. All you have to do is fill in the information.”
By then, Leslie only vaguely understood the assignment. “And why can’t you do this yourself?”
“Do I look like I have the time to do both?” Sarah snapped and Leslie threw her hands up and retreated to her room. “I want this done by tomorrow.” Sarah called as Leslie shut the door to her bedroom, she leaned against the door for a minute and sighed.
Sarah always does this, wait until the last minute and just snaps her fingers. Just like that, Leslie to the rescue. She was like one of those nerds that does bully’s homework. Leslie went to her computer and opened the file Sarah had just sent her over dropbox.
That night, to decompress from the long exam, Leslie decided to watch a few shows on TV. She’s already had two pages completed. Lounging on the living room couch, Sarah joined her. “So, roomie, have you completed my paper yet?”
“Not yet, almost though.” Leslie replied.
“May I make some suggestions though?” Leslie nodded. “Focus more on how each variable affect the environment.” Leslie wasn’t exactly listening but Sarah kept blathering on. If you want me to do your assignment, don’t tell me what to write. I have my own methods. She thought.
Leslie screamed when she opened her eyes the next morning to find Sarah hovering above her. “What are you doing?”
“It’s 8, time to get up.” Leslie glanced over at her alarm clock, it was only 7:30. She moaned and sank her head back on her pillow. “Come on, Les, I want it done by 10 am. You do want to have time to do you own thing, don’t you?”
She went to the window and opened the blinds, the light streaming into the room made Leslie shrank and curled. Leslie groaned. “Fine, I’m up!” Leslie stumbled out of bed over to her computer. She yawned and clicked open the file. It looked like Sarah had updated it, she added a few more sections and miraculously, it was completed.
Groggily, she made her way to the kitchen to scour the fridge for breakfast. She settled with a yogurt and ate it over the sink, her head was still throbbing from the blast of sunlight. She stumbled back into her room and sat before the computer, the words blurred and the more she read, the more it was becoming more puzzling.
“Is it done yet?” Leslie jumped, suddenly realizing Sarah was behind her. Had she been watching me this whole time? Leslie wondered. This was beginning to feel like Sarah’s got a gun to her head forcing her to write.
“Almost.” Leslie answered.
“Almost?!” Sarah shrieked. “It’s been two hours!”
Leslie rubbed her temples and said tiredly. “I’m doing the best I can. It’s not that easy, you know.”
“Hurry up,” Sarah snapped. “I’ve been waiting on you all morning and you can’t even write two paragraphs? I am way faster than that.”
Leslie bolted up, “Fine, then write it yourself. I’m tired of your bossing around. My head hurts, I’m not in the mood.”
“Fine!” Sarah screamed. “I don’t need your help. I will write it myself.”
“Fine!” Leslie shouted back and pushed Sarah from her room and locked her room. They didn’t exchange a single word the remainder of the day. Leslie worked on her own homework. Now and then, she could hear Sarah rehearsing in her room, always the same line and this is how their story ends (for now) because do stories ever end?
You know what award I’d really like to receive? Continue reading “Awards for Academia” →
The mystery I may never solve and I may never forget it… Continue reading “The Paintbrushes” →
I used to be a teacher’s pet with my group of so-call friends back in 6th and 7th grade. Almost everyday at lunch, we’d go chat with our teacher like friends. Then after school, we’d go again to help clean the boards and tidy up the classroom. But then we sort of went our separate ways during 8th grade. Continue reading “Teacher’s Pets” →
It was a cold and snowy night. I can still remember this night horribly well because it was most likely the first time when I spent the whole drive home praying that I wouldn’t get into an accident.
Continue reading “Home At Last” →
There he was, sitting in the back seat behind me. I could hear the pull of the seat belt. I hate that noise, it sounded like something was being pulled. What the heck is he doing?
It wasn’t the first time I heard that noise. I’ve heard it every time when I give him a lift the past three months. It felt like he was trying to lean forward but the seat belt wouldn’t give. It made me fear that the more he pulled, the larger the chance that it’d snag and break. That’s tension, I learned that in my second semester of engineering.
Sit back, won’t ya. I wanted to scold him for moving around but couldn’t. I was having enough trouble maneuvering through the pedestrian-filled downtown to shout at anyone. Beside, if I scold him, I’d sound like my mother. I decided to focus on the music blaring from the radio. It distracted me slightly. I almost ran into the back of the car before me.
Ugh, I thought, and that’s why I prefer to go see my orthodontist alone. Downtown is such a complex area of the city with the new mall and Temple Square and the hills.
Once I made it out of downtown and toward the freeway entrance, my grip on the steering wheel loosened and I asked. “So what did you think of the school?”
More than an hour ago, I had dropped my aunt and cousin off at the 
university so they could tour the campus while I got my braces examined. “It’s okay.” He answered.
I arched my brow. Okay? That’s it? “What do you like about the school?” I inquired further, sounding like a journalist. My chest was pounding because I didn’t want to come off as invasive even if I had thought of asking as a concerned relative.
I watched him shrug in the rear-view mirror. Then he sighed. “It doesn’t really matter. I’m going to this school.”
What? Why? I almost wanted to shriek. Instead, another question escaped my lips. “Then what are you going to study?”
He sighed again. “Engineering?” It came out like a question. Perhaps he wasn’t sure, I thought hopefully.
“Are you sure? It’s going to be hard.” I said but I also meant to implied that after all, I just went through the same thing. I watched him shrug again.
“But why this school though?” I knew the reasons why but I just wanted to hear it coming from him.
My aunt had actually implied several weeks ago when he was registering for his TOEFL exams but I read between the line. He wanted to go to this school so he could be near us. That’s what she said. Yeah right.
He wasn’t planning to live in the dorms, he was planning to live here and use our water, eat our food, and occupy the basement. Another part of his clever plan was to have one of us chauffeur him back and forth between the train station. I secretly raised my brow at her at the time. She can be a scary woman but my point, NO WAY. You’ve already lived in my home in China for all these years, I’m not having you take over my current home either.
“I’m still deciding. I need to see my TOEFL score first. Even then, it won’t be too late for me to decide.”
I quietly scoffed. Not too late? I beg the differ. I focused on my driving and the car ride grew silent for a few minutes while I waited for the commercial to be over and return to the music. My mom and I have always disliked this quality about these people we called family. Whenever they are asked to plan something, they’d say, “Whatever, we’ll decide when the time comes.” Whenever they’re asked what they’d like to eat, they’d say, “Whatever is good.”
Well, how should we know? We aren’t mind-readers. And if you don’t plan ahead, you’ll miss out on the tiny details and you might even have to delay your plans.
I sighed. “You need to be ready as soon as possible.” I felt like I was sounding more and more like my mother. “Here in the U.S., everything is about planning ahead.” You need to tone it down, now. I told myself. “When you go see your adviser in the first semester, he or she will ask you to map out your entire path at the university. I did that in my very first class. It’s all about long-term and short-term planning.”
“Mmm,” that was his response. That was all I get? For telling him my experience? Mmm? No how do I get admitted? No what do you recommend I do? Not even a thank you?
The car ride is silent afterward. Neither he nor I asked another question and I’ve decide you know what? You don’t deserve my expertise.
If you’re so clever to ignore my suggestions, I’ll watch you hit road block after another. You can get yourself admitted into the school, register for your first semester of classes, and get yourself into a dorm room. I already know those would be his first challenges because he’ll think the deadlines are still a long ways away for him to be worry and he still has to try again on his TOEFL. I have a feeling he’ll stay here for as long as my aunt lets him because heck, my aunt’s on his side. So he’s enjoying playing that card.
Well, cousin…
Don’t come crying for help because you didn’t read and understand the dates of when to submit the admission forms and when each tasks need to get done.
Don’t come crying for help when you go to the bookstore and saw all those ridiculous prices on books and wonder how some people can afford them.
Don’t come crying for help when you don’t know what courses to take for your first semester because this is all you’ll get from us. “Uh, I don’t know.”
Figure it out yourself because you didn’t listen when I told you to plan ahead.
If I woke up one day and realized 10 years have flown by, I think my initial response would be dread and sad because well 10 years have gone by and I didn’t get to experience any of it. Continue reading “The Shock in 10 Years” →
I graduated from college two months ago. I thought I wouldn’t have to look at another textbook or take another test, that it was time for me to go job hunting. Continue reading “The Aftermath of Recent Failure” →
There are no words to describe what I’m feeling right now. I lean my head sideways to get a look at the dashboard to check the time for what feels like the millionth time on this trip. I wish my mom would just park the car already. Even though it’s been the most exciting day I’ve had in a while but it’s also been longest day I’ve had in a while. Right now, I have just got to get out of this hot and stuffy car.
“Why can’t they make bigger spaces?” Mom mutters frustratingly at the wheel as she passes yet another spot.
It isn’t that the spaces are too small for her 1984 Toyota Cressida, it’s because she doesn’t know how to back-in parallel park. Apparently, her friend, Simon, up in the front doesn’t want to help either. He just keeps giving her suggestions and want to take no action to help.
My mom turns on her blinker, another round, here we come, I let out a quiet moan and rest my head on the headrest. Hot flash anger ascends on the inside as I drum my fingers impatiently on the door handle. My left arm remain sweaty and pin down by the arm of the giant baby snoring soundly in the middle.
“Maybe you should just try parking in the parking lot.” Simon suggests.
Uh oh, he is one suggestion too far. All day long, he’s been making suggestions to my mom. Don’t leave the AC on in the car, it will ruin the engine. Keep the speed at 65, it’ll save some gas. I can feel my mom has just about had enough. Her grip of the wheel tightens and her eyes stare straight ahead, maybe too straight.
She is like a volcano about to blow, a grenade with the cord pulled. Don’t blow, mom. Don’t blow. I try to send the thought to her as our eyes meet in the rear view mirror. It doesn’t work.
“If there are no parking out here, there definitely not going to have any parking in the parking lot.” She snaps.
The car suddenly becomes ghostly silent. I can hear the engine humming tiredly as my mom directs the car to the end of the block again. This time, instead of turning on the right blinker, she turns on the left and swerves into the left lane. She stops at the light with her blinker still blinking.
I didn’t dare ask any questions since she is so close to losing it. I concentrate on the tic tac tic tac of the blinker and stare out the window. It’s then I suddenly realize, there isn’t anything to turn left to.
We are under a sky-walk and to the left was lined with sidewalk. Where is she going to turn left to? Has she gone crazy with anger?
The light turns green and she slams her foot on the gas pedal. The car lurches forward. She lightly taps on the brakes at the approach of the next light. The left blinker remains blinking and no one in the car dares to ask her why.
When the light turns green again, she releases the brake and lets the car slide forward. About three feet later, she stops again. What now? I wonder and lean against the window to stare at the green light.
Soon, the light turns yellow and the incoming traffic slows. Then she does something I never imagine she would do on such a narrow road. She turns the wheel several rounds and steps on the gas. In a matter of seconds, we are on the other side of the road.
My heart pounds with fear and adrenaline while she executed the turn. It is by far the most thrilling thing I have experienced on this trip and it takes my mind off that we’ve been circling the block for 45 minutes looking for a parking space.
After the turn, she resumes her position in the right lane and lightly dips on the gas to cruise the car smoothly on the road. That smooth driving was soon interrupted when she suddenly slams her foot on the brakes propelling me forward. Thank god I wore my seat belt.
This time I know exactly what’s happening, she has found a large enough parking space. She switches on the right blinker to signal the cars behind her as she slowly steered the car head-on into the space. I sigh with relief as I press the release button on my seat belt with my free hand.
I open the door and step out, sliding my left arm from under the snoring kid in the middle. It is unbelievable that what happened just now didn’t wake him. He let out a sound that resembled a pig as I slide my left arm from under his arm.
I roll my eyes and step onto the sidewalk. My sleeping legs wobble beneath me while my arms numb and sweaty swing freely beside me like noodles. A short time later, I lift my arms and stretch to the sky, shaking off the numbness from sitting in a car for the last two hours.
“This is Huntington Beach. Everybody, please follow me.” My mom calls after everyone are out of the car.
I walk behind everyone and glad to see my mom’s mood lightened. After we cross the street, She was once again chatting with her friends. By the time we hit the sand, excitement course through me again as I immediately take off running toward the water. I’ve been waiting for this moment all day, ever since mom said we were going to beach this afternoon.
When I finally reach the water, I let the cool breeze come over me as I marvel the beauty and endlessness of the ocean. I finally made it. I stretched my arms into the sky and whispered, I am here.
Lately, I don’t know, I feel tired, headachy, and most of all, I don’t feel like working in school as a language tutor anymore. Continue reading “Can my English be declining or is it just my imagination?” →
This is Another Story