Tag: personal

Light and Dark

jimmiedimmick1994Leave a comment

This will probably be the first and last post where I’m this free-spoken, but I know this will be therapeutic. I know we all have bad days, but what do you do when the closest people to you are just gone in a matter of seconds? What do you do when suddenly that someone becomes just a memory and you realize that you can’t make any new ones with them?

As I’ve found out for myself when everything is going great, suspiciously good, the universe has to balance it out. The Bob Ross quote, “Gotta have opposites dark and light, light and dark in painting. It’s like in life. Gotta have a little sadness once in a while so you know when the good times come. I’m waiting on a good time now,” me too Bob, me too.

In moments like this, you feel like an outsider to the world and you just want to get away, distract yourself somehow. But I’ve forced myself to accept and face the facts: time heals, but you need a lot of it.

Bob Ross quote

 

Photo Credit: https://i.ytimg.com

Lovestruck

faithfulomnivoreLeave a comment

I’ve never been in love before, but I know what it looks like.

This Saturday night I went to a bowling alley with my brothers and friends. We were there for nearly three hours, and in that time lots of people came and went.

As I was waiting for my turn to bowl, I inadvertently noticed a couple move into the lane next to mine. They must have been in a relatively new relationship; they still had that air of flustered, nervous excitement. They were probably somewhere in their thirties.

The first thing that caught my eye was her chevron striped, orange and red and dark green skirt that came to just above ankles adorned with bright pink socks peeking out of chunky bowling shoes. Somehow, though, the outfit wasn’t really what stood out. She had wispy blonde shoulder-length hair and thinly framed round glasses.

The second thing that caught my eye was her date. He was just a few inches taller than she was and he also had glasses. His didn’t have rims though, just two lenses that floated in front of his eyes. They complemented his square jaw and short-cropped brown hair.

Since they were right across from me, I got to observe the couple for quite awhile. I was captivated.

It wasn’t because they were stunningly handsome or eccentric, in fact they were just sort of plain, normal looking. They weren’t unattractive, but weren’t strikingly beautiful either. She was probably an Anne or Jane or a Cathy, and he might have been a Scott or maybe a Mark or something along those lines.

She first stood up to take her turn. She trotted up to the line and made a very uncoordinated attempt at throwing the bright orange ball, which almost immediately went into the gutter. She spun around on the balls of her feet, and shyly laughed at the unfortunate result of her inability. He watched her as she walked back to him and he was laughing too.

Image via Pinterest.com

Plucking a ball from the rack, he began demonstrating how to properly throw it. And he didn’t put his arms around her in that uncomfortably corny way movies do. He just stood in front of her, swung his arm back and forth, explained his technique.

She tried again, extending her arm out in front of her and throwing the ball towards the pins. It slowly made its way down the lane and knocked over two or three pins on the outer right side.

“See!” he exclaimed with genuine pride. “That was already so much better!” They were both beaming. She scuttled back to their chairs, he rose to his feet, wrapped his arms around her and lightly kissed her forehead.

Over the course of the night I became very sure that they both enjoyed science and books, rainy weather and went to large public high schools where they maybe played in the marching band. As I pieced together these imaginary details I also realized some obvious truths in that they were completely enjoying each other’s company and they were completely happy.

As Scott or maybe Mark returned back to his chair he stopped midway to dance to the Britney Spears classic “Womanizer,” pointing his fingers in the air and bouncing from side to side. She threw her head back, laughed. This made me smile, too, because right then another thing became very clear to me: they were in love.

I don’t know if they knew it yet, but I definitely did.

I’ve seen lots of young couples out on dates before, but for some reason this was the first one that has made such an impact. Being able to see these two people who seemed to be so plainly normal and were out on a plainly normal date. But they were so, so happy. Bowling really isn’t a very exciting activity, but they were perfectly content just being with each other.

They probably could have been anywhere in the world and still showed that same subtle adoration. It didn’t matter that there were people all around them in that bowling alley because they were only looking at each other.

I think that’s all I really want.

 

“Beautiful”

whynotstayin1 Comment

While it may sound vain, despite being relatively confident, comfortable, and even sometimes feeling rather pretty, I don’t think I’ve ever felt fully represented as “beautiful”. It frustrates me that so much of my already fragile confidence could be tied to media, movies and t.v shows but it kind of is.

Part of me feels like the culture I grew up in does not believe me to be “beautiful”. I’m not western enough, in fact in personal experience when I see an East Asian in a show or movie, while my heart does glow, they are usually mixed race or distinctly more western looking than I or many other East Asians look, so in a way I guess I’m used to feeling sidelined for a more western standard. Which is probably why I’ve never felt that en masse the American.

I often wonder: have I have been conditioned from childhood to see myself as too East Asian to be considered en masse “beautiful”? I have this fear that there will always be that “for an Asian” tacked onto compliments about my appearance or just the “oh she’s Asian” exclamation. I’m not sure when this would/has befall/en me but it’s still become a very real insecurity.

Photo Credit: Martin Taylor Home Page

The older I’ve gotten the more I seem to notice that I’m not sure where I fit, there’s always a twinge when someone asks if I’m an exchange student or to translate something for them, that’s in Korean *cringe*, but hey perhaps understandable transgressions, but still, really?

I don’t see myself reflected back when I see “beautiful” people on the t.v or in books or in American pop culture. When people make lists East Asian are woefully lacking, the part of me that is fed off of pure media is constantly being told that people who look like me aren’t really that beautiful.

I’ve talked about white washing before, but this year I was hit with a whole new wave with the twitter #expressiveasians.

An unnamed casting director is cited in Nancy Wang Yuen’s book Reel Inequality: Hollywood Actors and Racism, as having said, “Asians are a challenge to cast because most casting directors feel as though they’re not very expressive.” As much as this statement kind of makes me want to laugh, because who even says sh*t like this? The more I sat and thought about it the more it shocked and … hurt.

Photo Credit: Twitter

I’ve always been slightly insecure about my smile, how small my eyes get when I laugh, I mean just my face in general, but this comment, despite the amazing retaliation from many proud Asians on the internet, just hit hard and not even where it was necessarily directed.

It hit me in a way that I can only liken to feeling like taking a photo with friends looking at it and going, “Oh god why do I look different, why do they all look good while I look so ugly?” It’s just the feeling of being the odd one out, in the case of Expressive Asians it’s being the perpetually non-expressive race.

It’s a kind of reminder that says even if you feel the same you definitely don’t look like it!

While I am in fact Chinese-American I’m not mixed race, I am full blooded Chinese, but I’ve grown up in America with Caucasian parents, in relative white privilege, so I’ve always been stuck between two worlds. I think and act like an American but I realize that people don’t see me as American until I open my mouth and even then sometimes they don’t. It leaves me to wonder about how I feel about myself, how does America as a culture feel about me?

Is it too much for me to want to see myself reflected back from the screen without the aid of cartooning? Is it too much for me to see someone like me be considered “beautiful” in American pop culture?

 

A Valuable Education

faithfulomnivoreLeave a comment

According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the first definition of the word education is “The process of receiving or giving systematic instruction, especially at a school or university.” If you asked high school students what the point of going to school is, I have a hunch that the majority of answers would be “to get good grades.” Why is our immediate response that school is not about learning, but about grades?

The purpose of children and young adults going to school is to receive an education that betters our knowledge and helps us become well-rounded individuals. As time has passed and classes have become more rigorous and competitive, the value behind school/education has been lost. The purpose of attending class is no longer to learn new information, but to memorize facts and then spit them back out on a test.

Education has become a competition. With advanced placement and honors courses, students are so focused on earning good grades and getting into universities that they often feel like the purpose of it all is not to learn about world history, calculus, chemistry, etc, but to pass world history, calculus, chemistry, etc.

The grading system was put in place as a way to force students to learn and understand material. I realize the significance of this, but I feel like there is a better way to convey information that will still make a lasting impression and will create a less stressful, more beneficial environment for learning – one that makes students want to learn instead of feeling like they are being forced to learn.

Although the first definition of education mentions “systematic instruction,” the second definition, in my opinion, is far better. Simply put, education is “an enlightening experience.” Now, this might just be my teenage angst speaking, but usually when I come home from school I hardly feel enlightened.

Image via IllustrationSource.com

Personally, I feel like there comes a time when we learn as much as is necessary and beneficial in terms of academics (unless someone’s passion involves a subject that they would then go on to pursue, like a career in science or something of the sort) and the only intelligence that can be further gained is through life experience.

I believe that there is great value in traveling the world and seeing other cultures. I hope to travel all over the world within my life, but not just to the most most desirable places. I want to go to Mumbai, India, where millions of people live in an extremely compact area, or to rural Africa or South America where people live without electricity or running water. Seeing how people live all around the planet, experiencing their cultures and understanding how different peoples’ lives compare to one another: these are the things that help shape a person’s intelligence, skills, morals, and opinions.

I am extremely thankful and privileged to receive the education that I have and I would never want to compromise that. I’m not saying that I’m extremely intelligent (I’m not) and I’ve already learned everything I need to know (I haven’t), but I’ve come to a point where I feel like the best way for me to grow as an individual is to experience all that the world has to offer. But seeing as I am only just beginning my second year of high school, I guess I’ll have to keep up with the classes and grades for a little while longer.

 

Brother Bear

faithfulomnivoreLeave a comment

The last time I thought about you was a few weeks ago.

It was because some friends and I were discussing the best animated Disney movies. As we went through the list, the title Brother Bear popped into my head, and I immediately began expressing my love for the film, declaring it my personal favorite.

Now that I think about it, I don’t even really remember what happens in the movie. I vaguely recall a plot about two brothers who turn into bears, then turn back into humans, then decide to turn back into bears – or maybe something sort of like that.

I didn’t realize that I miss you until tonight, and I think part of the reason why it started to hurt so much is simply because I wasn’t even aware I missed you.

The last time you called was to wish me happy birthday, and that was four months ago. I can’t remember the last time I saw you.

Ever since you moved out, we’ve gradually lost touch. Now when you come to visit I feel a sort of distance between us. Maybe it’s because you’re over a decade older than I am, but even still, when I was in kindergarten and you were in high school I remember you used to laugh at my jokes, or at least pretend to laugh at them.

Now it feels like we don’t have anything in common. When you do come home to visit you’d rather sit with Dad in the kitchen than come play video games with us. It didn’t used to be like that. But even if you do choose to spend time with your siblings, it would probably mean throwing around a ball in the yard with our brother, and I would either sit and watch you both or just stay inside.

Image Credit: Disney,com

I remember you babysitting while our parents weren’t home, how you used to sit us on your bed and then flop onto it beside us to see how high we would bounce.

I remember the countless hours we spent in the pool. I would cling onto your back like a leech, and even though it annoyed you you let me stay there. I remember the first time I went down the slide I sat on your lap because I was too little to go by myself. Or when you would throw me up in the air and how it felt like I was flying, how time stopped and I was weightless, until I finally splashed back into the water.

I used to think of you as a superhero, and in some ways I guess I still do. I believed everything you told me and never questioned it, not just because you were so much older and wiser, but simply because you were my big brother.

I always took our time together for granted. It’s been some five years since you graduated college, and even when you were still in school you barely lived at home. I know you’re still looking around for what you want to do, and I know you might be unsure even though you wouldn’t admit it. I just hope you’re happy.

You’re always busy. It’s either work or a softball tournament or plans with friends. You never come on vacation with us anymore. I don’t blame you one bit, that’s just life. But sometimes I wish you would try a little bit harder to make time for me.

I like to imagine that you’d live closer to me if it weren’t for your girlfriend. Don’t get me wrong, I think she is very good to you and very lovely, but sometimes I can’t help thinking that maybe if you weren’t with her I would get to see you more often.

It’s hard for me to believe that you’re grown up now. I don’t want to believe it.

Looking back to that movie conversation with friends, the reason why I vied for Brother Bear so intently was because it reminded me of you. Maybe you remember the nights when I wanted to sleepover in your room. When I did, that’s what we always watched –  because it was your favorite movie.

Even though you’ll never see this and I’ll never tell you, know that I love you very much, and I miss you.

 

 

 

Snowflakes

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Photo Credit: shuttershock.com

I’m not a very good writer. I don’t have a lot of fancy words to use, I don’t have perfect grammar, not even my handwriting is very nice. Yet, I can put my heart into my writing. I can spend hours and hours with a pen and some paper, writing about memories and fears and moments of joy and sadness and nightmares and daydreams. Whether on long flights, dull car rides, lonesome nights spent sitting against my wall in a room that is barely illuminated with string lights and desk lamps (for the aesthetic, I guess), I will fill pages with ink and soul. Again, that doesn’t mean that it is good writing. Usually, I get carried away, in a manner that reminds me of snowflakes jumping around in the wind, eventually finding their way to the ground after a dance one could almost find to appear indecisive and childish.

My point is, I don’t really have a point. I usually never do, to be honest. I can’t put pretty words in a pretty book to make a pretty story. I wish I could. I can only write to give my emotions a shape, as clumpy and ugly as it may be. Oh well, this is good enough. This is going to be posts of clumpy and ugly memories and nightmares and daydreams.

Suggestions for Personal Growth

faithfulomnivore1 Comment

A letter to my current and future self.

Recently I have been doing some self-reflection. I’ve found a few things that I want to work on, so maybe writing them out will help me incorporate them into my daily life. To my dear self, a few suggestions for personal growth:

1. Be present: Simply put: memories are better stored in your head than they are on Snapchat. Enjoy what is happening right in front of you.

2. Listen: Really listen to what people around you are actually saying. Don’t just nod along and then reply with, “Hey, do these jeans look better cuffed?” My hope is that this will help you to be a better friend and communicator.

3. Appreciate and enjoy: Don’t dwell on sadness. Sometimes life can be frustrating or boring and that’s okay. Make the most out of every day, appreciate even the smallest things. Don’t make excuses for why you can’t have fun today, just go out and find it.

4. Take care: You only have one body, one mind, one planet. Do your best to care of them.

5. Think before you speak: Mom is especially fond of this one. As much as I wish it weren’t true, how you say something impacts what you are saying.

6. Relax, no one cares: A while ago I didn’t order a drink I wanted because it was called “The Shangri-La,” and I was afraid of mispronouncing it and sounding stupid. The point is, don’t skip out on opportunities for fear of embarrassment. Most of the time, nobody is going to care, let alone notice, if you say something incorrectly. And even if you do mess up, just laugh it off – it’s what you do best.

7. Be yourself: Now I know this one is quite a cliché, but I think it’s important to remember. One aspect of this comes from my experiences with random strangers. Sometimes I find myself putting up a shy front when in public or talking with people I don’t know (E.g.  the barista who could have made “The Shangri-La”). You are a social, people-person! Don’t be afraid to be friendly! You should be proud of that. This point is particularly important to keep in mind as you move through your teenage years, where so much pressure is placed on everything involving your personality, appearance, etc. No one ever got anywhere by being the same as everyone else. If certain people don’t like you for exactly who you are, you don’t need those people in your life. You will attract everyone you need for a supportive and fulfilling life by simply being you.

For now, this is all I have. Surely with time this list will continue to grow and improve – and hopefully I will, too.

 

Photo Credit: Pinterest

Fire walk with me

jimmiedimmick1994Leave a comment
Photo Credit: Wikimedia

During the summer there was only one question on my mind: “who killed Laura Palmer?” The answer to that question can be found in episode 7 of the second season of my favorite TV show of all time, which is the surreal, mesmerizing and fever nightmare “Twin Peaks”. For those unfamiliar with the show -“Twin Peaks” is the brainchild of Mark Frost and David Lynch and it is possibly one of the best mystery drama series on television, and to prove that point, “Twin Peaks” received fourteen nominations at the 42nd Emmy Awards. When it first came out it dared to challenge boundaries of standard television, it had the eeriness of the “Twilight Zone”, the stylishness of “Miami Vice” and “Santa Barbara” relationship drama. The premise of the show is simple: an FBI investigation lead by Agent Dale Cooper is trying to unravel the mystery behind Twin Peaks’ homecoming queen Laura Palmer’s murder. The show isn’t solely one genre, it has elements of crime drama, supernatural elements and is also very campy. Drawing parallels from other works of Lynch, “Twin Peaks” is famous for surreal imagery, offbeat humor, and has a constant feel of violence that swallows you.

I can’t recommend this show enough, so if you have any free time on your hands please do yourself a favor and dive into the minds of Lynch and Frost and the haunting world of Twin Peaks.

Fire walk with me.

Twin Peaks IMDB

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summer loving

mariethearistocatLeave a comment
Photo Credit: tumblr.com

Summer, I’m going to miss you.

More than the ocean misses the shore.

I’m going to miss

Your eternally messed up sandy hair

Falling on your imperfect face.

The way your eyes remind me of waves,

Dark, deep blue and full of life.

The way your tan, calloused hand fits mine,

While we stroll on the beach,

Getting the insides of our feet scratched up

By the sand.

Our long bike rides on the PCH,

Filled with me falling over and getting scratched up.

Our midnight conversations

Of love, loss, and tacos,

Hidden in fluffy pillows and blanket forts.

The eternal battle of cuddling

Or not sweating for the rest of the night.

The polaroid sessions that will soon

Become only pictures on my wall,

Instead of hours of laughter and music.

The hours of reading poetry by your side,

Breathing in the rhymes and feeling.

The car rides to Safeway and Trader Joe’s

To pick up sunscreen and cheap wine.

The bonfires on the beach, in the backyard,

And by the stove.

The books filled with stories

Just like ours,

But they just don’t capture

The way we loved.

The Netflix movies that

Showed a coffee lover falling for tea drinker

Or a bunch of rebellious teenagers

Falling in love for the first time,

Just like us.

The mornings filled with iced coffee,

But don’t forget the creamer, love.

The study sessions featuring

Paper, paper, and more paper

Waiting to be filled with endless scrawls of notes.

But, most of all, summer,

I’m going to miss the way you made me feel,

The way I was your season of fun,

When we loved like

The ocean loves the shore.

homeless

mariethearistocatLeave a comment

i don’t get how everything i’ve built could be so fragile. just when you think your foundation’s set, an earthquake comes and shakes it. next a huge rainstorm. then a forest fire. or a tsunami. each disaster shakes the very thing you thought was solid. now my house is starting to crumble on contact. the walls a little less sturdy. the ground with a few cracks. but that’s why they call them natural disasters, because they have to happen. except they shouldn’t have to. you were a fire that didn’t naturally arise. you sparked something in me. i thought you were the soft ember in the fire-place, warming the whole house in a crisp, cold night. but you crept and crawled out, until the polished hardwood floor became singed beyond belief.

Photo Credit: chriscrespo.com

you burned everything. engulfed the second floor, filled with broken-down cribs and pictures lining the walls.  you exploded in the kitchen, where everything was black and it wasn’t bad cooking. you burnt the living room, even all the memories made there, the many late nights, turned to dust. you left the backyard, full of brand-new spring blooms, dead. except it wasn’t all you. my house wasn’t fireproof. my foundation wasn’t concrete, it was loose pebbles. my walls were made of rotting wood. you barely made a scratch on my already damaged surface. so, while you sleep in your warm sheets in your warm bed, I’ll be shivering under my army blanket in a foreign homeless shelter, because you destroyed my only home.