Just peachy

It's funny, some of the things we hang onto. A couple days ago, I opened a bar of 20-year-old soap. I kid you not.

I even remember exactly who gave it to me: 2 girls whom I barely knew (and haven't seen since) who were friends of my friend. It was ultra-nice of them to get me a gift (Body Shop fuzzy peach soap and a really nice scrunchy) for my birthday, considering they didn't know me, and especially in Grade 6 or 7 when money isn't exactly abundant!

Anyway, the fuzzy peach (which Body Shop doesn't carry anymore) smelled soooo good, that I never wanted to use, so it just sat on my shelf for 2 decades!

The peachy fragrance has worn off now, so it was time to use it. That, and I'd run out of soap. :P

有時候，我們留下來的東西很有趣。 幾天前，我終於拿了一顆廿年前的肥皂來用。 認真的！

我還記得是誰送我的：兩位不見過 (而之後沒見過幾次) 的女生，我朋友的朋友。 覺得她們非常 nice 送我生日禮物 (水密桃香皂和綁頭髮的髮勢) 因為她們也不認識我，而且小學年紀哪有什麼錢呢！

總之，那顆水密桃香皂的香味好棒喔，所以我就不想用，一放就放了廿年！

現在香皂已經不怎麼香了，所以就決定拿來用。 並且，我肥皂也沒了。 :p

Dressed to the nines

My dad and I put together bags of clothing for donation, and in the bags was a long coat of my mom's, pictured right. My dad had told me about it a few months back.

My mom made this coat. Yes, one of her many talents. Waaaay back when my dad was studying in the States, and before any of us were born. My mom was really, really excited: they were going to go to Las Vegas. So my dad went with her to pick out a pattern, and my mom worked on this project for many nights, all spread out on the kitchen floor. (And this would've been after a long day of waitressing!)

And then she wore it once. The night they went to a show in Vegas. And it's been in the closet for the 30+ years since.

The coat is beautifully made, with lining and everything. The pattern is a little loud for my tastes, but I'm sure it was perfect back in the '70s. It doesn't fit me anyway (I'm a little broader in the shoulders and back)....

I hope that someone else will enjoy it, because it was made with a lot of TLC. :)

我和我爸整理了幾袋舊衣服，準備要捐給慈善團體。 其中的袋子裡面有我媽的一件長外套。 我爸幾個月前跟我講了它的故事。

那件大衣是我媽親手做的。 手藝很好吧。 很久以前，我爸在美國讀書的時候，我們都還沒出生。 我媽非常的興奮：他們有計畫要去拉斯維加斯。 我爸帶她去挑紙樣，然後我媽連續好幾夜撲著廚房的地板在做她的project。(而且是餐廳裡工作了一天之後！)

結果她那件大衣只穿了一次。 就他們去看show的那一夜。 從此就吊在衣櫥，吊了三十多年。

那件大衣做得很漂亮，還有內襯喔。 花樣當然比較鮮亮，但它是經典70年代的顏色。 不過我穿不下；肩膀背部比較我媽寬 (更不用說三十多年前的她！)。

希望別人能好好享受，因為那件大衣可是我媽用很多愛心做出來的。 :)

Sugar-coated past

One of favourite candies from my childhood is Wonka Runts. Fruit-shaped fruity hard candies! I liked getting each flavour and melting them in my mouth....

I saw them at Superstore the other day, and a wave of nostalgia inspired me to purchase a box.

Well, I should've just left the past in the past. They taste awful - just pure sugar, in a packed powder form. They're absolutely disgusting!

Some memories, you just don't mess with.

Not so bright, Part 3

I was under the impression that I'd already posted this 3rd installment, but I guess I hadn't done quite enough stupid things, yet! I've now caught up.

11. When I park at the side of the road, I usually back up and straighten my wheel so I can ride away more easily. One night I was leaving the post office (which happens to be on a slight slope), and as I let my scooter glide backwards... I stopped with a bump. I looked behind... and it was a cop on scooter. Oops. =P
    
    
12. Long ago, at the market in Taipei, I was buying a towel, and the stall owner told me that 130NT was as low as he could go -- any lower would be below cost. Those sales tactics, you know. Well, I made another round through the market before coming back, and discovering that he was gone, I told the stall owner's wife that "someone else had said 120NT". She immediately whipped around and demanded to know which of her kids had given me a 120NT cost, because it *was* below cost. (She was REALLY furious.) But, since I said I'd been offered 120NT, she honoured my dishonourable price.
    
    I feel really bad and haven't been back to that market since. =(
    
    
13. I wall-climbed 4 days (evenings) in a row. Aside from a bit of soreness in my forearms, I felt great and was injury-free.
    
    The ginormous bruise on my right knee was 'cause I tripped in the parking lot. >_<
    
    
14. The gas tank warning light was on. Unfortunately it was well after 10pm (after vball) and they had already shut down for the night. I had no choice but to wait until the next day. (I like to fill at the Superstore gas bar near my place, 'cause they give you 6.5 cents/litre redeemable in the store.)
    
    As luck (or bad habit) would have it, I was running late and didn't have time to stop for gas before class. By the time I made it back, the tank must've been reeeally near empty, because the car started stalling. I had to coast down the hill into the gas bar, then shut off the engine while waiting my turn.
    
    When it was finally my turn... yep, you guessed it: I couldn't start my car! I was 3m from the gas pump, and could not start my car just to get to the pump.
    
    I had to ask a nice man coming out of the payment station to give me a little push so the car was within nozzle's reach.
    
    
15. My friends were visiting from Taiwan, and after 3 long days taking them around, driving all over, looking after all their needs before they went to bed and then working on my own things, I was really looking forward to them going on their 9-day Rocky Mountains tour.
    
    That morning, I dropped my dad off to work then drove them to the tour pick-up point. We waited for the tour bus to show up (20 minutes late), got them set, then I was free to go home.
    
    I turned left toward the bridge heading out of downtown, and suddenly this car in the opposite direction started blaring its horn at me, and the suit behind the wheel gave me this nasty bewildered look! How rude! And then, next block over, another car up ahead started high-beaming me. Was there a police car or speed trap ahead?
    
    It wasn't until I got to a traffic light that I noticed 3 lanes of traffic all facing me: I'd turned the wrong way onto a one-way street!

Under the table

"King one still there on the whole bar! And I'm in a soundproof room...!"

That was the line that we kids would call out at each meal when we were younger. It was the statement that granted us the deed to the forked legs at each end of the table, so we could prop our feet on them for the meal.

First you had to get your feet on the bar, and then you had to say the whole statement without the other siblings speaking simultaneously. You could throw out one word at a time, but if they caught you right when you were talking, you had to start the whole line over again. When you got the entire line out, then and only then could you claim the table leg rest for the duration of the meal.

Don't ask me how that titular statement came to be the way it is. You just can't account for some of the things kids come up with.

Not so bright, Part 2

6. I met up to shoot pool with a friend in Taipei, after dinner with my aunt. I couldn't find my key to get back into my brother's place, so he left his set with me, and said he would figure out another way. He called me later, rather peeved, because he couldn't get into his parking garage (sensor was with me now).
   
   The next day as we were heading out, I returned his keys. "Where's my mailbox key??" "Oh, I dunno. Ohhh, wait...... that's my set of your keys. Here's yours.... <duck and run>"
   
   I don't get my own set of keys to his place anymore.
   
   
7. I want to be organised. Honestly. So I buy plastic stackable drawers, and paper organisers, and clothes hangers. They now all sit on the floor of my room, alongside the rest of my mess.
   
   My coworker got me a book "No More Clutter" (by Sue Kay) that takes a deeper look into the whys of clutter before the actual riddance. And yes, that book now adds to my clutter.
   
   
8. I grew up drying my laundry in the clothes dryer. I like the extra perk that, if you remove your clothes not too long after drying, they are soft and virtually wrinkle-free. It so happens that one Saturday, I got home unexpectedly late from work, and found my clothes removed from the dryer and scrunched down into my a-bit-too-small bucket. Completely scrunched, dress shirts and all. I was livid. (When I remove someone's clothes from the dryer, I half-fold their laundry - hang shirts and pants over the side of the basket - so their clothes aren't crumpled, because hey, I'm considerate like that.)
   
   As it turns out, that person's load was done, and I wanted to unwrinkle my clothes (by putting them through another cycle). So I removed his stuff and scrunched it into his slightly-too-small basket.
   
   I'm such a bad ass. =P
   
   
9. I can swim over 2000m without any problems... but my calf cramped up when I was getting dressed and trying not to let my pants touch the wet changeroom floor.
   
   
10. I can scooter for almost 10 minutes before making a left turn and being rudely reminded that I forgot to flip up the kick-stand.

Still more to come...

Not so bright

I am, by far, not perfect.

I know, I know. I'll give you a minute for the shock to subside.

Here are a few oh-so-bright moments, most deserving a laugh, some deserving a smack upside the head. (I actually wrote most of this over a year ago, but these have all happened during my time in Taiwan.)

1. Locked myself out of my dorm - with a bag of laundry, and three 10NT coins. No wallet, no phone, no scooter keys to get myself anywhere. At 1AM. I had to drag my big bag o' laundry to the convenience store and borrow the clerk's phone card so I could call someone to come save me.
   
   
2. After recovering from a scooter accident (open wound and not-so-happy ankle), I finally healed enough to swim again. Yay! Then two days later I was running home, and as I sprinted to catch the traffic light, I tripped and sprawled head first into the street (no cars around). And scraped my elbow and knee up nicely.
   
   
3. I was meeting up with family friends. Suddenly realising that the train I was about to board was heading south (wrong direction), it then dawned on me that I had actually watched my train leave just 3 mins earlier. So I patiently waited for and boarded the next train on that first platform. Then the next train stop told me that I'd boarded a southbound train! By the time I made it to my destination, I'd been commuting for nearly 3 hours, instead of the anticipated 1.5 hours. But what a deal for 85NT! =D
   
   
4. My coworker sent out an away-on-a-business-trip notice to the entire department. To which I promptly wished him a smooth trip and good kimchi. Only, I replied-all. (I'm only thankful I didn't jokingly tell him not to ogle too many Korean girls.)
   
   Actually, I've replied-all on two other occasions as well.... Oy.
   
   
5. On a particularly wet and rainy day (cats and dogs and hippos), I rode through the night market in search of food. Someone's scooter horn was blaaaaaaaaaring annoyingly. I scanned the vicinity, like others around me, looking for the source. And 5 minutes later, I found it.
   
   Yep, it was my scooter. Apparently it was complaining of a couple of electrical shorts.

More to come....

Coming out of the closet

I was cleaning out my wardrobe last night (a rare event in itself) and came across a "new" jacket. The past came back to me....

We had put up the little Christmas tree, my brothers and I. Having traded down from the 6-foot tree to a little 3.5-footer whitey, we'd moved the tree upstairs, and loaded it up with as many decorations as was tastefully possible and strung lights upon the fake-snow-covered branches. We finished it all with a tree skirt around the base.

And then someone came up with a creative decorating idea: slipping the Christmas lights under the skirt, creating cool and colourful glow spots. A brilliant touch.

Come Christmas morning, the usual excitement brought us all together around the teeny tree. We passed out the presents and tore through pretty wrapping paper. (Okay, no, who am I kidding. We're Chinese, so we carefully peeled the tape off and folded the wrapping paper up neatly for reuse.)

Now, my mom, unarguably, knows how to dress. And though I'm usually more casual and conservative in my style, Mom is pretty good at getting me clothes that are great for occasions outside of my usual repertoire. I guess that's the fun in having a daughter; you get to dress them up - sometimes even when they're well into their twenties.... But, I digress.

My Christmas gift was a blazer jacket. Midnight blue with bits of white thread, knit, almost like low-pile carpeting. Obviously my mom's shopping.

And then we saw it.

Near the bottom of the buttons, the size of a cherry tomato. A burn mark.

Mom was not happy. She quickly isolated the cause of the burn. In the corner, by the tree, was a matching burn mark in the carpet. My brother and I inhaled sharply.

You see, the offending tungsten Christmas lightbulb, unseen under the tree skirt when the lights were off, became imprisoned between Christmas gift and carpet. After being lit overnight, the bulb eventually burnt right through the tree skirt and gift box, scorching my Christmas present. We're lucky it didn't start a fire.

My poor mom spent an hour picking and scraping away the traces of the burn as best she could, and colouring over with blue marker to make it less obvious.

That jacket has never been worn.

Perhaps I noticed the scorch every time I looked at it, or maybe I really never had that occasion outside my usual repertoire, but I think I might have worn it out once, at most.

As I removed the coat from my wardrobe last night, it saddened me to realise that my mom's care in choosing a gift for me spent over 6 years entirely in the closet. =(

But I'm going to start appreciating. Better late than never. <=)

Gaydom

Back when I was still in Vancouver, I was returning a shirt at Blue Notes, and the cashier had a certain ... feminine air about him. Didn't know quite what it was.

His facial features weren't that feminine. He had short spiky blonde hair, like a "sk8er" might have. And it wasn't really the 3 earrings he had in one ear. He was built - well, thick. I think it might've been the tightness of his T-shirt: it fit him about how a baby T would fit women.

Or maybe it was his French manicure.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream.

I like to think that I'm a good listener. People seem to open up to me, tell me their problems, their secrets, their fears. And since I think talking and venting is good for one's health, I've always offered my "services" if I sense a friend in need of an ear.

One person took me up on the offer. We used to be very good friends before we went our separate ways, and I hadn't talked to him in quite a while, other than a passing "hi". But that night, we talked for 2 hours. And at the end of the call, he said to me, just as he always did, "Good night. Sweet dreams." Sweet dreams. A sign-off that only he ever used with me, back when we were close.

It caught me a little off guard, and I instinctively replied, "Yep. G'night." (I know, I know, don't roll your eyes at me!). As I pressed End on my phone, it came back to me. That familiar greeting that I had heard almost nightly.

And I smiled.

Old-Timers

Some months ago, I was MSN'ing with a friend who was about to get married. I've known this friend since elementary school. He went to high school with a good family friend of mine, and so I always heard bits and pieces of his news. In university, we started staying in touch.

During our conversation, I was figuring out whether or not I knew him or the family friend first, and it suddenly dawned on me that I met him in Grade 2 - twenty years ago! (Upon sharing that revelation, he exclaimed, "And still in school, wtf!" hahaha.)

My earliest memory of him is when we were in a Grade 2-Grade 3 split class back in elementary school. There were only 6 of us, so our desks were arranged in 2 facing rows, 3 desks each. WL and I were in the middle desks. We were colouring an assignment or something, and WL was using crayons. The girl next to him was being mean and saying that I could use her coloured felt pens, but not him. That was the era when felt pens were a luxury. I remember thinking that was really snobby of her, and so I ignored her and used crayons with WL.

Of course, maybe WL remembers it differently: maybe he remembers that I was the snobby one.... It was twenty years ago....

Atlas, but not quite as muscular....

In the past 5 months, I have:

• made my first income tax payment in Taiwan;
  
• climbed 8 or 9 mountains, including 2 peaks over 3000m in altitude (one more to add this weekend);
  
• swum a 3km water reservoir;
  
• organised a company event to swim a lake (although in the end the swim was cancelled due to this year's endless string of typhoons);
  
• "saved" somebody;
  
• mooooooved (Internet and my own bathroom - yay!);
  
• begun the process to obtain full citizenship status in my new country;

... and yet this is the one that breaks my blogging hiatus.

It was our Monday afternoon status meeting. Every week, my goal is not to get nailed to the wall. This week, I eked it out (yay).

And then my manager turned to me.

"Your work here is actually really important. The business unit's year-end meeting is coming up next month. One of the goals we have this year is to improve our technical documentation; of ten items, your work constitutes one entire goal."

In other words, in a business unit of 250 people, I myself am responsible for one tenth of the BU's goals. One tenth of how the BU will be graded in the company, and consequently, how we will be awarded bonuses after the year-end review.

No pressure there.

He continued, "The meeting is in a month, which means we'll have to prepare all our material in about 15 days. Please prepare a report about our status on this matter."

I told my friend about this extra weight on my shoulders, and he commented that he carries roughly 25 percent of his division on his back, so I guess I shouldn't be complaining. But I realised today that while he practically reports to the CEO, I'm at the bottom of the food chain. And, well, I don't get paid nearly as much. Not nearly.

*sigh*

Row, row, row your ....

Back then, we used to go to QE Park a fair bit. The adults would stroll leisurely through the park with its spring and summer blooms, while we cousins would swarm like bees. We would dart in and out of the huge hollow bronze sculptures (while banging on them), walk along the fountain wall, dipping our hands into the water and seeing if the coins were within reach. Sometimes we got dangerously close to all the wedding photo sessions taking place ....

My favourite thing of all was watching the water striders in the numerous ponds around the park. They would gracefully oar themselves across the surface of the water, creating little dimples under their feet. They seemed so carefree, lazing around in the pond on a sunny day.

I always felt so peaceful watching them, and always with a smile.

Whath the point?

I'll never forget the time we came across the pride of San Francisco.

We brought our items up to the counter at Old Navy. Our cashier was - I kid you not - the reincarnate of Captain Hook (but without the hook). He was Latino, tall and slim; had high cheekbones and wavy hair that fell past his shoulders. He wore eyeliner, and had an earring (or two). No problem, we were cool. After all, it was San Francisco.

What really caught us off guard was his reminder to remove the price tag when we asked for a gift receipt, "becuth otherwithe, whath the point? And here'th your change, $13. Thome think it'th bad luck, but I'm not thuperthtitious." Tinkerbell voice, hand gestures and all. We flashed him a great smile and thanked him.

It was all we could do to run out of the store before we cracked up.

"My, what black teeth you have!"

I was digging around in passport documents and the like one day, and I came across a cookie tin with some old photos. One picture was of us and some older Chinese guests from about 20 years ago. When I showed the picture to my father, he recounted their visit.

Apparently, I pointed out, "Daddy, his teeth are really black."

Dad tried to brush me off, but I was intent on telling him. By the time he managed to shush me up, our guest's face was already flushed with embarrassment.

Today is my high school friend's birthday. I had a crush on him back in Grade 9. And 11. ... And 12. (Only skipped Grade 10 because he was at Trek.) He wasn't a jock, or popular. I didn't even notice him on my own.

A and I were away at the '92 BC Winter Games for our respective sports, and so, after getting back, we had to pair up for some missed work in class. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the popular girls on the sofa drawing hearts in the air around us, and was embarrassed for him because - well, I wasn't exactly a hot commodity, haha.

From 4 classes together in Grade 11 to none in Grade 12. Come spring, I finally wrote him a note. Letter. Novella. Note. And got my friend to slip it into his locker. And then I spilt my guts to him over the phone. Boy did that catch him off guard. HahAhHAha. (I know one of you out there knows what I'm talking about!)

He found me the week after and we went for a stroll - yep, the "let's just be friends" talk. Which was really funny because after I'd told him over the phone, the crush was no more. :)

Ah, to be young and naïve again.

Happy Birthday, A. :)

Hi, Grandma

Feb 22 was the anniversary of my grandmother's passing. I guess this year we had a lot of stuff going on, so it went by unnoticed. (Sorry, Grandma.)

That was 6 years ago, but here are some of the things I remember ....

I remember coming home from [elementary] school and having food on the table.

I remember watered down Campbell's cream of mushroom soup (because that's how my cousins had it at their place) - ew.

I remember Grandma teaching me how to cook (back in the day when it was okay to add MSG to anything and everything).

I remember her coughing in the middle of the night when I just got home from SFU, and I'd have to help her sit up in bed to drink water because she didn't have enough strength herself.

I remember how my room smelled of old people (c'mon now, y'all know what I mean!), plus the smell of fruit (sometimes gone bad) because she liked to keep it in the room.

I remember coming home and being horrified to find her on the [tile] floor of the foyer at the bottom of the stairs, cane knocked over, in a puddle of urine. I still don't know how long she'd been lying there, though she claimed that she didn't fall and was "just resting".

And mostly, I remember being in bed, on the phone, the week after she died. I was telling my friend about missing her, and all of a sudden, a wave of emotion passed through me, and I sat bolt upright, bawling and looking around, because I felt her there. Interestingly enough, she appeared in my brother's dream that night as well, so she was probably making the rounds before leaving the world.