Archive for September, 2010

Back in action.

Rollercoaster week with many to follow — and that’s saying the least, really.

There’s a lot to talk about. I won’t talk about it all. It’s sort of 1 AM, sort of hot in my room, sort of a pain to get up from this chair, change, and crawl into my bed (which is sort of three feet off the ground). Yes, sleep deprivation has gotten the best of me; the touch of jet lag and sprinkle of insomnia have their hand in it.

Note to self (and I guess to everyone reading): My ability to write has severely waned, and reading my own material is now almost unbearable. Having no classes involving essays or any modicum of writing beyond one page double-spaced is problematic. Now attempting to use better vocabulary, everything just comes out kind of bombastic. Poop.

I’m learning that life events don’t really get separated into “good” and “bad,” but rather “difficult” instead of “bad.” “Bad” just sort of insinuates that nothing good comes out of something, and evidently, something good has come out of everything. Realizing this sheds a new light on the less enjoyable moments of my life. The question, “What can I learn from this?” begs for attention.


Good times. The last half of my trip to Taiwan was family-filled, frustrating at times, but fun nonetheless. A normal family vacation. A normal family dinner to boot. Who would’ve thought that was possible? Not I. Nearly cried while leaving our perpetually air conditioned apartment, on the way to the airport, then at the airport (also nearly didn’t have a flight); held back because, well, yeah. Coming back to school: awesome. Friends that I missed, places that I missed, school that I missed until it actually started.

Difficult times. Swimming around in thoughts both deep and conflicting, such that are too much to explain in this late-night text ramble that was only brought about by the notion that some update was needed after weeks of blog-related silence. (I mean, really, am I the only one left?) If you asked, I might hesitate to answer, as I realize now I tend to do. But as the same thoughts come in and out, perhaps there’s room for discussion. Question, though: would anyone who would listen even understand? That’s the real challenge.

Difficult/good times. Feeling very close to Jesus has serious ramifications on both sides of the spectrum. Being affirmed in my identity in Him: very, very good. Much needed, a solution unknown until it appeared at my doorstep in a place called H.O.P.E.S. House. God: too amazing, too good to me on that day. Slowly but surely coming closer to feeling like I know what’s going on, inside and out; now and later. But still difficult (When is it [life] not?): painful thoughts still looming, realizing something that I half-knew, half-didn’t want to be true. Sleep deprivation (so you know this block is of present tense), the enemy of the day. And to these things I say oy because a grunt is pretty much all I can muster past the exhaustion.

And maybe, just maybe I’ll write about these things that I describe so ambiguously in more detail some other time. For now, sleep? Or just more thought while laying in a dark, quiet, too-hot-to-sleep-well room. Welcome back.


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Even if I work out everyday, nothing can save me from the inevitable gluttony that is swiftly conquering my stomach. Behold:

Homemade Vietnamese spring rolls! Hand rolled by yours truly.


After! Take that, Ozzie Ozbourne.

Do hwa! A Taiwanese favorite for the summertime. It's like a... cold... soup... dessert... thing. Yeah.

And you thought the hot dogs in De Neve were big...

Giant piece of fried chicken. Like as big as my head.

It's a duck. A whole freakin' duck.

Foodventures aside, nothing, absolutely nothing can save me from the epic cuteness that is my little cousin.

Enough said.

Last time I saw my cousin, he was at the tender age of two — still sucking on a pacifier, still wearing diapers, still crying at every possible negative situation. Now he’s five and starting school! He gets scared without his parents, though, so he cries a lot when he’s there. But the other day he promised that he wouldn’t cry anymore! So cute. Sadly, he doesn’t really remember me (can’t blame him), but looking back on our pictures from three years ago, I looked quite different (You know — thinner, without glasses, less cute.).

Contemplating the meaning of life, the universe, and everything in his sleep? I think so.

That’s it for the photo-heavy update, folks!

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Thank you for smoking.

After one year of being legally able to do so, I am still the only person in my family who hasn’t smoked. That’s not to say that I haven’t been without temptation — oh, I have, but having my mom smoke in our cramped apartment at about 50% humidity indoors reminds me why I’d rather one bite a raw egg. All it does is give me a headache. Is it too much to ask for you to smoke outside? The door’s right there.

Already feeling the effects of boredom, just trying to get over jet lag and eating a lot. Attempting to work out, but outside, it’s probably 90% humidity; I can only keep running for about 11 minutes (Sad, right?). At least I’ll be in shape for Nationals team try-outs in a couple weeks. Not that I’ve put on my kendo gear for about a month. Maybe more.

It’s been ten minutes. The smell of smoke still lingers. Thanks, humidity. (Damn it.)

One thing that is exciting though is seeing how much my grandma’s health has improved since the last time I saw her. How many months has it been? I lost count. She’s starting to walk again with a cane (Pretty impressive for an 80-something year-old stroke patient, right?), though from what I can see, it’s come at the cost of some of her mental health. Perhaps a side effect of medications, or maybe a price to pay for physical exertion — either way, I don’t know which state I’d rather she be in. She’s still banking on making a full recovery, but I feel like there’s a limited window of opportunity for that and that it’s closing fast. Is this as much as we can hope for? I miss her cooking.

But it’s always nice to be here because the food’s great. Sometimes freaky looking, sometimes freaky smelling (a less likely candidate for adventure), but more than likely delicious.

Taiwanese sugar apple. Freaky looking? Yes. Delicious? Definitely.

Also, world’s greatest masseuses. I’m literally begging my mom to take me to get a massage every five minutes. In a friend’s words: “Touch my body!”

PS I can still smell it.

Thank you for smoking.

View a la apartment balcony!

Ten days to go!

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Game on.


Two weeks.

Food. Video games. More food. My baby cousin. Copious amounts of food. Family. Lots of deep fried food.

Game on.

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