So on Tuesday night, my mother came home announcing her office at work was having some kind of get-together on Thursday and they had asked her to bring something. She didn’t know what until she got home. A pie, she insisted. But where can she get it? She didn’t want to drive 20 miles to Costco. So instead, she requested me to make one.
Fine, one Pumpkin Pie pronto.
We took a trip to the commissary up at the Air Force Base and gathered the ingredients.
1 Large Can of Pumpkin Pie Filling
1 5 fl-oz of evaporated milk
1 pie shell
Along with that, I needed 2-eggs.
Yesterday, during my small break in between work, I went into chef mode and worked on the pie. The last pumpkin pie I made was more than four years ago, Thanksgiving eve, 2010, when a blizzard hit and I was snowed-in from school. My attempt…
Well, this week has been fun. Not really. Monday was my first day off for my Winter Break and I mean real day off where I have the house to myself for a few hours. I thought I’d write a lot this week, perhaps work on story I noted on my other blog but unfortunately, my week was ruin by my project manager and her stupid concern email. After working for such a long period, my creativity meter’s level fell to zero.
Thankfully, I just finished my work, just a few minutes ago actually. Hmm, I wonder if I can finally let out a breath and enjoy my holidays. In the last 3 days, I have worked 20.5 hours and translated over 5000 words. I woke up at 4 am yesterday and 6 am today to complete this annoying and boring monthly deadline. Yesterday, I’ve check and found out next month, there’s more. The deadline? January 12, the first day of school. I do hope I can complete it.
Anyway, now that I’ve done this month’s work and ran out of “me” time, I think I’d spend the last measly hours today, aside from going to the orthodontist and do the impression for my retainer, I think I’m going to blast the music on my stereo and sing. Ha ha, maybe but I think I have some other matters to take care of first:
My AAA card will expire, got to call and take my mother’s name off it and pay the bill.
I received a gift card two months and I think there’s a problem with it, so got to call and wait and wait.
After that, I hope people would chill for a while and cool it with the deadlines.
I suck at art. I can’t draw anything, well, except straight lines with a ruler or circle with with a compass. The thing is in middle school, we didn’t get to choose what class we take and so aside from the fundamental classes (math, language arts, PE, science, and history), I was randomly placed in other classes.
My favorite and least favorite class was Art. It was my favorite because I didn’t need to take anything out of my backpack and I didn’t have homework in that class. It was my least favorite class because I sucked at it.
The most disappointing thing I made in that class? Two super-sized coil pots.
I found this on google and it looks like it belongs to another wordpress site. I give you full credit for the picture, whoever you are. Great job on the coil pot! It looks like mine but yours looks way better! 🙂
It’s disappointing because of all the things to make with clay, I can only make coil pots and very ugly ones too. When I made the first one, I thought to make a coil cylinder to hold my pens and pencils on my desk. Instead, I made an odd oval shape coil pot that can hold nothing. Ugh, it was heavy, ugly, and horribly glazed. Still though, I remained somewhat proud of what I achieved.
A few weeks later, I was given a second chance. In the least to say, I failed again. This time, it was the same thing except it’s purple instead of light blue. These two were in such odd shapes that it couldn’t hold anything.
When I moved from California to Texas, my mom forcibly threw it away along with my dearest blanket. So unfortunately, no pictures of mine. I think I was young at the time, maybe too young and un-creative to create any sort of masterpiece. I think if I’m given another chance now, I believe I can do better.
*****
Oh, I can’t believe how early I got up this morning, 4 am. I’ve been working since then and I’m just getting a break now. Anyway, I have to get back to work if I supposedly want to finish this today.
I was updating the About page and noticed it’s been about six months since I changed my blog name and I never bothered to introduce how it came to be A Simple Life.
So since I’m done for the semester and have few short days alone by myself, I thought I’d take the chance and do this late introduction to my blog. Oh and you’ll notice I’m playing with colors here, that’s how bored I am. 😀
F.Y.I, the underlines are links to ancient ancient posts, I thought I’d let you re-live them as part of looking back this year.
My blog is call A Simple Life. I changed it recently from My Simple Lifeafter realizing I don’t have a simple life anymore. So now, this is A Simple Lifeand it reads in the heading, Tales and Life of a Simple Girl.
That tells a lot, doesn’t it? This blog is a tiny bit more stable now than a year ago. You see, this started out a nameless blog and then I went, “Oh, heck with it.” and named it The Random Blog.
Then I forgot about it, from February to September. How do you forget you have a blog? Shrug. I don’t know.
How did I come back?
I got an email one day last September saying someone likes my post. It was this post like that somehow inspired me to come back. After I came back, I didn’t know what to write at first but then I working three jobs and my boss was driving me insane. Also I had no one to complain to. So I wrote this post and severalothers.
Quickly, I took out the in the title and this became just Random Blog. It didn’t attract a lot of attention though 😦 no matter how many post I published. Hmm, I wonder why.
I didn’t find out until about six months ago. I was tagging too happily. 🙂
I still didn’t like the name though because I thought it was too misleading, perhaps make the readers think maybe I just re-blog other people’s material or maybe just post some random stuff. Nah uh, that’s not me. I’m a storyteller.
So on that hot summer night, while I was lying on my warm bed, kept awake by the F-16s and the heat, out of nowhere, a name hit me, Diary of An Optimist. For that short month (June and July), this blog was known as the Diary of An Optimist. I thought I liked it but then I was like, “Nah, too thought provoking.” I’m not into that.
So I changed it again. I kept thinking and thinking. What to name this darn blog? You see, I’m terrible with naming things.
What is the thing that simply described me and what this blog entailed. Life! That’s one word to put it. It’s about real life, my life, full of ups and downs, happiness and sadness, troubles and chaos. That still doesn’t give me a name though.
Simple! My aunt and cousin were coming soon and once they arrived, I would have to cook for them, teach them, help them. Even the months before they came, it was becoming complicated, with me stuck at home daily waiting for the man to come everyday to work on the basement. Meanwhile, my mother’s temper flared every time she spoke of their arrival. Not to mention my life will no longer be two-some but four-some. I just wish that life could be as simple as what I have now.
That was it! Simple Life that’s the name for the blog!
A Simple Lifeis about my life as it is. I am a person who strive for simplicity in life. I’m sure I’m not the only one. As you can see, everything about the design of this blog promotes peace, tranquility, and simplicity.
I’ve always wanted to become a graphic or web designer, either one, no preference there. So making my desktop backgrounds look good as well as playing with web design is kind of like my second hobby aside from jigsaw puzzles.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this how my blog came to be post and I do hope that I will still make it a habit to blog everyday in 2015. That’ll be my goal and hopefully, I’ll have some juicy stories to share. Oh and please follow, follow, follow!
Okay, these prompts are getting more ridiculous and uninspiring by the day. Did something happen? Did the group of people that usually come up with the prompts go home for the holiday, leaving a bunch of substitutes in charge of the prompt?
Anyway, I’m terrible with conveying emotions with objects. And something I learned over the years, you only mean something to someone when they need something or want something from you. Like would my dear friends from middle school contact me unless they need help with homework or other sort of things? No!
My mother’s friends are the same, they don’t call her unless they need help with something. So in reverse, I really don’t see the need to convey this message unless I’m stuck on a island or something in need of help. Then, I would arrange tiny rocks on the beach that will spell out, “HELP!”
If I’m trying to convey my emotion with my mother, I wouldn’t need 5-10 objects, I would just use a big box of chocolate in the shape of a heart. Doesn’t that says enough?
*****
I guess I jinxed my vacation in yesterday’s post because yesterday afternoon, I received a somewhat urgent email from my project manager asking why aren’t we working. I mean, can’t a girl take a break? After all, finals are just barely over and it’s the holidays!
Apparently not, so today, I have to work. Ugh!!! 😦
Unsung heroes, eh? I’m not sure I have any having known so few people in my life. My biggest hero at the current moment is my mother who wakes up and leaves for work at 4 am everyday. Then she’d come home at around 5, cook, browse the internet, sleep, and then do it all over again.
I admire that about her, hard working and willing to sacrifice. I mean I think I’m a hard worker too but I don’t think I will ever be as a hard worker as she is. I don’t think I’d have the courage to go through basic training at the age of 42 or be able to complete 2 miles in 15 minutes.
Also I don’t think I have the guts to rebel against my family whereas my mother went against her parents’ wish by going to school and get a higher education instead of going into the job force right out of high school like her siblings. At the moment, my mother’s the only one in her family with a college degree and just so happens be the least favorite person in not only my grandfather’s mind but everyone else’s mind. I guess that makes her the unsung hero in her family.
*****
I have exactly 20 hours to myself this week and I intend to cherish every bit of it. Yes, I’m the only one who’s off this week. My mother has work and aunt and cousin has school. So now, I need to eat, go to the gym, and work on rewriting the novel I’ve been working for the past year.
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?
That’s how things break, from pulling too often and too hard
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.
Some pedestrians is slow and annoying
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.
Today is the first day of my winter break but I woke up this morning by this pain in my right arm. I hope the nerve in neck aren’t swollen again and is not now affecting my arm.
Anyway, I took a look at the prompt this morning, more question and answer. Will there be a prompt that actually inspires me to write a story? Of course, lying is not okay, it’s never okay! Otherwise, why would anyone teach us that? On the other hand, you can’t expect a person to tell the truth all the time either. The truth hurts sometimes, you know.
Sometimes, it’s better to just tell neither, to simply to just hide the truth.
I remember the start of junior year into my engineering program. My grades from the semester before were terrible. I couldn’t understand why except that numbers just aren’t on my side. The entire semester, I couldn’t find a single proper answer to a single problem. I followed the exact same procedure as taught by the instructor and still couldn’t get the right answer.
About two weeks after receiving my grades, I received an email from my adviser saying that I’ve been down-graded from major status to pre-engineering status. That was terrible news for me, for anyone, in this matter.
To be back at pre-engineering status meant I couldn’t be enrolled into the already registered classes. It meant the only class I could be enrolled was the one I’m retaking. Worst of all, it meant I only had one course.
Quickly, thoughts swirled in my head. How am I going to explain to mom when she sees the tuition bill and only sees one course register? What am I supposed to tell her? That my grades were so terrible that I’ve been kicked out of the program?
My head and chest pounded as I got up and paced back and forth in my room, trying to come up with a solution. Then I decided. I’m going to fix this myself and I’m going to tell mom nothing. She will know nothing of this. My adviser and I communicated back and forth through email.
For two days, my hands shook and I hardly had any appetite. I felt bad about hiding this from her. In my freshman year, I failed Chemistry. I hated this, I’ve never failed anything in my life. When mom discovered, she was angry but at the time, she didn’t have as bad of a temper as she has now. But she told me, “If you don’t tell me, I can’t help you.” So maybe she helped me then, she could help me now.
But another part of me thought otherwise. So I kept it from her. Two days later, a solution came, it was like god-sent. I discovered in my degree audit report that they never took the “E” I got from Chemistry away and thus lowering my GPA to below requirement. I emailed my adviser and told her what I’ve found and asked her to have that removed since I’ve already taken that class. I was back on track.
The lie in that little story was that I pretended to be fine when everything was fine. I should have told my mother the truth instead of hiding it from her. On the other hand, I wanted to prove to her that I can handle things on my own, that I don’t need her guidance on every misstep I happen upon this crazy journey call life. I guess I’ve proven that here.
To be honest, I didn’t want to write today but my mind kept telling me that today’s prompt’s easy and I should at least write something. Oh well, at least I’ll complete this in 10 minutes.
I woke this morning at 7-something by my mother barging into my room shaking me awake. Today was my last final exam of the semester and it’s the toughest, individual taxation, yikes. Right now, I feel like my brain’s fried and about to explode into a million pieces but I’ve missed my TV show. Oh well.
At 8 am, after I had two pieces of toast, I proceeded to my mother’s room where she went over every single note she’d written down for the course. You see, she took the same exam yesterday and had a few ideas of what I’ll encounter today. As I sat there and listened to her talk, I felt like my brain was about to explode with new knowledge flowing from my ears and eyes to my brain every single second.
It went on for roughly two hours. After that, I went back to my room and studied everything all over again, twice three maybe five times (I lost count) before I ate lunch and drove to school, to my doom.
The exam was both what I expected and not what I expected. Some questions jumped out while some, I felt lost like I haven’t a single clue what to do. I did alright, I guess, enough to secure me a “B” in this class, if the professor’s nice enough to give me the remaining 0.2% to get me a “B” instead of “B-“.
What I’m worrying the most about is yesterday’s exam. I just hope the professor is nice enough to give me a “B” in that class too. Then I won’t have to live with a “C” in my first semester of my graduate program. A “C” is not too bad though, at least it’s better than an “E”, now that’s devastating to my GPA.
But anyway, the semester’s finally over and I can finally take a breath, yay! 🙂
You’re given unlimited funds to plan one day full of any and all luxuries you normally can’t afford. Tell us about your extravagant day with as much detail as possible.
Oh boy, will these funds just magically disappear the next day? Because I’m not a spend it all now kind of person. I would stash some of the unlimited funds for later. But with unlimited fund for a day, I can buy and get a lot of the things I’ve been wanting but unable to get.
I can buy myself a brand new car instead of keep using my mother’s. Oh, it’s not just any new car, a new hybrid car. Gas is still expensive and I like one that can get me a better mileage but at the same time, I don’t want a car that’s light as air. So a $50,000 hybrid, it is. 🙂
My mother’s dream vacation home by the lake. I’m such a people pleaser.
Wouldn’t it be nice to sit with a coffee and stare at that view?
A few months ago, after my mother’s fallout from acquiring the piece of land she wanted, she went online and began searching for houses by Utah Lake. Our jaws fell at each of them. I mean the backyard is a freakin’ beach. Unfortunately they also come with a ridiculous price tag. Worry not, mother, for today only, I have unlimited fund and I will make you the owner of one of those beautiful houses.
Update the kitchens and bathrooms of all three houses as well as fix whatever needs to be fixed. I am so darn tired of hearing my mother complain whenever something breaks or doesn’t work right in one of the three houses especially the one I’m living in now. Also, everything in all three houses just feel so ugly and out-dated. So, new floors, new counter-tops, new tubs, toilets, sinks, everything.
I go shop for a piece of land for myself. That’s where the stash comes in. I would wait and build myself a cozy little house.
The final thing is always the small thing. I would:
get myself a brand-new wardrobe. New clothes, shoes, everything
buy a 60-inch TV for my mother
pay-off my student loan debt
get myself new tablet? Maybe one of those Surface Pros. Oh and a really nice camera so I can finally take beautiful scenic pictures.
There are so much I can do that after five things, I can’t think of anymore I want to do but these would be the first. But let’s be real, the only way this day would come, it would be in my dreams.
I cannot sleep. My entire right side is in a lot of pain. So here I am, sitting rigidly at my computer at 7 in the morning thinking about what kind of story I’ll share for today’s prompt.
Honestly, I have never heard of this famous song about New York but these lyrics sure take me back. During my first years in the U.S, I lived in a very bad neighborhood in the suburbs of Los Angeles. Of course, now this neighborhood is a little better. At least, that’s what I’ve been told. But still, I think if you can make it in this town, you can make it anywhere because anywhere will just seems heavenly.
By now, you might have hear me talk about my middle school days as the happiest time of my life but those days were also filled with adventures and failures.
Like failure to catch the thieves that stole my pencils and erasers. Well, those are small things but what my wallet, stolen right out of my backpack on the school bus that afternoon. Or my keys, stolen from the depth of my backpack while I was walking home from school with my friend. No wait, that was one of those victorious times. Thank god my friend noticed it and saw who did it.
The moment I noticed my keys were missing and saw the bully dangled it not far ahead from me, I sprinted, faster and faster, like my life depended on it. Unfortunately she was quicker. I was never a fast runner.
So I ran to the next best thing, the vice-principal. I told him about my stolen keys and who had it. He didn’t even have to go back to the office to check for the bully’s address. He knew exactly where to go. I got in the back seat and he got in the front and we sped to the girl’s house like cops.
When we got there, the girl was actually standing outside dangling my keys as if she was waiting for us. The moment she saw the vice-principal get out of the car, her victorious grin faded.
“Hand over the keys, Daisy.” I heard him say and willingly, she surrendered the keys to the vice-principal.
That was easy, right? Unfortunately, like all stories, there’s a twist. The villain is never satisfy when they loses and when they’re unsatisfied, they seek vengeance .
Several weeks after the keys incident as well as the hair-touching incident (another time), both bullies sought revenge against me. My mother couldn’t come to pick me up from school one day and she didn’t want me walking home alone. So she told me to take the school bus.
I didn’t realize until I sat down that the two bullies were sitting behind me. I quickly wrapped my arms around my backpack and hugged it against my chest to prevent anymore thievery. Just before I got off, I made sure that every zipper was closed before I swung my backpack over my shoulder.
The next day at school, I searched my entire backpack for my library card. My wallet was missing and I knew exactly who had it. I went to vice-principal and reported my wallet went missing and told him my suspicion.
He brought the girl to his office and asked her but she denied. Case closed, just like that. On the way out, she smirked at me and to this day, I still think it was her who had stolen my wallet just like her best friend took my keys.
“Be aggressive,” and “Be flexible”. These are two pieces of advice given to me by my mother that I would not give to anyone else. I will explain why but first I want to explain why she gave me these advice.
Be more Flexible!
Whoa, I don’t think she meant that literally
My mother thinks I am stubborn and don’t know how to turn things around sometimes. So she often lectures me, telling me to be more flexible. But sometimes, I wonder if I am even the one who should be taking this advice.
Like yesterday, I went in my mother’s place to verify if our tenant really works at this place. I told her later that even the manager don’t know this person. She asked me something I can’t remember and I told her I was treating it like an investigation. She took it literally and gave me this big lecture about me don’t know how to ask smartly.
“No wonder they won’t tell you anything.” She said. She thought I told the manager I was investigating.
“I was treating it like an investigation.” I told her, annoyed. “I never said I told the manager I was investigating anyone.”
“Well next time, be more flexible when you speak.” And she walked away. It leaves me wonder whether my mother should be the one that needs to be more flexible.
Be more Aggressive!
Now, that’s overly aggressive.
As usual, my mother likes to take charge of my life and I somehow let her. Well, what can I do when I’m living with a fire-breathing dragon?
Anyway, about three years ago, I got my first interview for an internship, I was completely ecstatic. Of course, my mother wouldn’t let me drive myself to the interview and insisted to drive me there herself.
On the way, she talked and talked, blabbed on and on, coaching me on what to say. I didn’t bother to listen because honestly how do I even know what’s asked in a job interview. I was just thinking of going in and winging in.
So I decided to just looked out the window until she said, “Did you hear me?” and it snapped me back to reality.
“Yeah,” I said and shook my head.
“I said be aggressive.” I nodded. “You need to make the employer want you. Answer confidently.”
I did everything she asked and didn’t get the internship. I had a couple more interviews since then and still no luck. Two weeks ago, I had one again. This time, I chose to just be myself. My mother has to stop helping me. I need to get this internship and move out to purge her influence on me and my career. Unfortunately, no news yet. I’m hoping soon though, crossing my fingers.
Here is why I won’t give these advice to anyone:
I don’t tell people things unless I am very confident. I think before I speak but sometimes it doesn’t turn out so well. Besides, it’s my mother’s advice, it can turn awry like everything in my life.
Some people may already be flexible and giving them this piece of advice might make them become over-flexible which is bad sometimes.
The same goes to aggressive. If you’re overly aggressive, you’ll get competitive and no one will like you or maybe it’ll even get you fired.
My advice to you: Be yourself! Because without other’s advice, it will change you into someone you’re not.
Today’s Daily Prompt gave a quote from Charles Dicken’s A Tale of Two Cites. A book that I haven’t yet read but this quote took me back to the day when I had to say good bye to my mother because she was leaving me again. This was back in early 2000 or 2001, I can’t remember but it was the best Chinese New Year I’ve ever had.
I was staying at my grandparents’ for my winter break when one night, my aunt suddenly called to say she’s taking me home. Normally, I’d be happy to go but Chinese New Year was coming and staying with my grandparents was an excellent chance for me to get some 红包 (lucky money) even if it’s just a couple bucks.
On the way back to my aunt’s apartment, I asked her why so sudden. She told me my mother was coming home. I was like ha, yeah right.
I went to bed that night smiling, laughing at the idea that my mother was coming. The next morning, I got a surprise. I was startled awake by none other than my mother. At first, I thought it was a dream but it wasn’t, she was really here.
During the first few days, she felt like a stranger because after all, I haven’t seen her in 2 or 3 years and skype didn’t exist then. But as the days went by, we grew close again. We did a lot of fun things and went to a lot of new places but before long, she had to leave again.
“I will be back for you.” She told me.
All the way to the airport, we talked and joked but when we got back in the car after dropping her at the airport, I was silent the whole way, just kept looking out the window, wanted to just say my proper goodbye to my mother. So even if we went to all these fun places and did all these fun things, when it comes to saying goodbye, it’s the worst of times.
I started this blog on February 13, 2013 because I wanted to share some of my recipes. As you can see, this isn’t true. In that month, I only posted four times and they were all during my aunt’s visit. After she left, I stopped posting until September and that’s the longest time I went without posting.
The reason (excuse)?
School got in the way and I put my blog out of my mind.
At the end of September, 2013, I began posting again. I was enrolled in a single course at school and my misery at work was inspiring me. I didn’t post daily though. I only posted when I had something to say or when I was sitting in the classroom doing nothing.
I didn’t begin daily posting until the end of April when I finished my semester and graduated but it wasn’t really going well. I wasn’t really getting a lot of readership and I didn’t know why. And when one is not getting readership and attention, one will feel uninspired to go on.
But I was stubborn, determined to grow this blog of mine. I googled and read a variety of articles about how to get more readership but every one of those articles just said go to facebook and bug friends to read it.
Well, that’s the problem. I have no friends that really listens to me anywhere, facebook or google+ or any social network. I’m trying to readership outside of the social network.
I had no luck of finding readership until I read a post on tags. It was then I knew I was tagging my posts completely wrong. Let’s just say, I didn’t know better and was being “tag happy”. The next day, I reduced the tags to 10 and look, people began to visit my site. Now after 250 posts, I am beginning to get a modest, at least in my mind, readership.
So full! I’ve just came back from a morning of Black Friday shopping and cleaning and a traditional Thanksgiving meal. This year has to be the first time I managed to get something from the Black Friday sale. I got two pairs of boots for formal wear. Finally! Yay!
Anyway, we just got home from a fantastic meal at our neighbor’s and I am so very full right now which makes it a great time to write a post to burn off some of the calories. 🙂
So, leftover sandwich, that’s the name for the daily prompt today. Well, that’s just the thing, I don’t have leftovers. For me, it’s always delete or post. There are no drafts floating around my dashboard. But to be honest, in my opinion, none of my posts feels complete to me. So, in a way, all the posts are still sort of a draft to me.
For example, in yesterday’s post, a few hours after I published it while we were saying thanks as a family around the hotpot, I realized that I left a major paragraph in my post.
I was too busy thanking my aunt that I forgot to also thank my readers and loyal followers because without you, I would had quit a long time ago just like I quit everything else. Also I like to thank all the visitors around the globe because without you visiting this site, it would had died some times back. So thank you all.
And if there’s a picture I want to share but never got to, it would be this one…
Auntie Ying, after all this time, I realized I never thanked you for all the things you’ve done for me during the past two months. You lightened my load a lot to the point that I am able to concentrate on my studying and not worry about chores. Continue reading “Thank you!”→
In July of 2007, I ultimately made the toughest decision I’ve ever made in my entire life (at least so far). I was literally involved in a game of tug-of-war between my parents. The decision: to stay with my step-father or to leave with my mother. Continue reading “The Toughest Decision of a Lifetime”→
As some of you know, I recently joined my university’s chapter of the Beta Alpha Psi, a professional club for Accounting and Finance major. I’d say that’s a pretty big risk for me, both socially and professionally. I joined the ASCE when I did my undergraduate and look where that landed me, still unemployed and living at home. Continue reading “A Mighty Risk Paid Off!”→
Everyone, in my opinion, fits the category of storyteller. There are stories everywhere we go. Our lives are basically a giant story waiting to be told, by us.
What makes one an awesome storyteller? Personal experience and creativity, I think. That’s a perfect duo for storytelling. We all have many unforgettable experiences in our lives that’s waiting for us to sprinkle a bit of creativity and spin them into wonderful stories to be told at dinner or events.
Another thing is you don’t have to be good at writing to be a storyteller. You can tell the entire story by mouth. I know my mother does that. She has a lot of good stories, you just have to get her to remember it.
I think she is one of the most awesome storyteller I know. She tells all these attention-grasping stories about her adventures in life that I wish she would write it down and tell it to a wider audience.
So what makes an awesome storyteller? Life. The little chaos in life will tend to bring out the storyteller in us.
I often imagined that if my life was a movie, it’d be full of drama and the soundtrack would be some classical music track along with some fun mellow pop rock mix in there for the moments like when I’m having fun on the beach or when I’m walking down the steps to shake hands with the faculties while smiling at the camera because I finally graduated.
Then an orchestra would back me up when I’m angry and frustrated with a fire-heating ensemble. And when I’m sad, a violin would come in and play something that makes every note feels like a teardrop.
However, my life isn’t like that kind of a movie. I don’t have drama happening at every turn. As the matter of fact, my life feels more like a black and white silent movie. It would be about a clumsy girl stumbling through life. Everyday’s the same, wake up, go to school, come home, sleep, and do it all over again except maybe add in an occasional fight or two.
I think it might be a dramedy especially everything tend to move quicker and weirder in silent movies with the cocky piano music that makes the audience’s heads cock left and right. Now that’s a hilarious thing to watch. 😀
I was woken by a nightmare this morning because I needed to get my mother’s car check up to see if any damage was done by the car accident I had last Thursday. I guess it’s just an after-affect. Still, the nightmare disrupted my almost-8 hours of sleep. Continue reading “A Perfect Day Off”→
Sometimes, I get very frustrated because no one seem to understand me just because I am slightly different than my family member. Would I call myself just a tiny bit eccentric? Okay, maybe a little but I don’t do strange things. If I do, I do them because I was influenced by other people such as my mother, my mother’s friend, and my teachers.
A long time ago, in my elementary school days, I was taught to try new things and encourage others to try new things as well. That’s exactly what I did when my family came visit in 2012. I got them for the day when my mother had to go to work. I took them Downtown to the new mall and Temple Square.
I thought we would explore some sights together. Instead, the second we arrived at Temple Square from that short easy walk downhill from the Capitol, my aunt suddenly wanted to sit down and eat. Everyone else followed, leaving me just standing there. I wanted to scream, come on people. We still have all day and a lot of sights to see but I didn’t have it in me for some reason.
The moment everyone sat down, it was like the energy drained out of them, both the adults and the kids. I was the only one that had any energy. “What are you doing?” I asked as my aunt pulled out a big box of cherries from her bag.
“We’re tired and hungry.” She complained and then suddenly everyone else were too. It was like the entire family was controlled by this one single person.
I remember sitting there for a long time, not wanting to eat myself, watching them scarf down cherry after cherry, cracker after cracker. Eventually, we proceeded across the street to the new mall and there, after one round (30 minutes tops), they went to the food court and eat again.
Anyway, another thing that sets me apart from this clone-like family is I am sentimental and don’t like to waste or throw anything away.
They are the exact opposite. I remember the first week after my cousin and aunt arrived, one night, I accidentally didn’t cook the drumstick all the way through. My cousin took one bite, made a disgusting look on his face, and said, “This is still raw.”
He walked around the counter to the trash can with the drumstick between his chopsticks. “What the hell are you doing?” I said.
“Throwing it in the trash.”
I quickly retrieved a bowl from the dishwasher and handed it to him. “That’s perfectly good. Just put it in here and microwave it.” How wasteful is that, right?
Another thing is I keep a lot of junk in my drawer, broken mouse, headphones, and mail that I no longer want. This is actually all thanks to whoever the high school English teachers was who taught me all about personification and as the result, I saw inanimate objects differently. Hmm, so I guess I am the eccentric one in the family after all or a slightly eccentric person in general.
Sometimes, I wondered, if we stayed in California, would I be successful with going to college early? Would I still be friends with the people I’ve known since the 5th grade? Or would the result still be the same? Continue reading “The Fall When Everything Changed”→
university so they could tour the campus while I got my braces examined. “It’s okay.” He answered.
jumped out while some, I felt lost like I haven’t a single clue what to do. I did alright, I guess, enough to secure me a “B” in this class, if the professor’s nice enough to give me the remaining 0.2% to get me a “B” instead of “B-“.
I can buy myself a brand new car instead of keep using my mother’s. Oh, it’s not just any new car, a new hybrid car. Gas is still expensive and I like one that can get me a better mileage but at the same time, I don’t want a car that’s light as air. So a $50,000 hybrid, it is. 🙂
tops, new tubs, toilets, sinks, everything.
I cannot sleep. My entire right side is in a lot of pain. So here I am, sitting rigidly at my computer at 7 in the morning thinking about what kind of story I’ll share for 
Like failure to catch the thieves that stole my pencils and erasers. Well, those are small things but what my wallet, stolen right out of my backpack on the school bus that afternoon. Or my keys, stolen from the depth of my backpack while I was walking home from school with my friend. No wait, that was one of those victorious times. Thank god my friend noticed it and saw who did it.
far ahead from me, I sprinted, faster and faster, like my life depended on it. Unfortunately she was quicker. I was never a fast runner.
The next day at school, I searched my entire backpack for my library card. My wallet was missing and I knew exactly who had it. I went to vice-principal and reported my wallet went missing and told him my suspicion.
This is Another Story 