Days of My Life

The first time I ever felt empowered was the second day of sixth grade. On the first day, my mom had taken her morning off work to drive me to school, from Chinatown to Northridge, in order to give me my insulin injections for breakfast and lunch, and to make sure the school nurse knew everything she needed to about me. Nurse Sue was astonished that my mom had gone to such an extent to take care of me. "Astonished" might be too nice of a word--I think she was shocked, and perhaps even abhorred. I was in sixth grade now, and I had never given myself an injection, despite having had T1D for 10 years now?! Now that I think back on it, I myself am ashamed. The second day of school, my mom did the same thing--she took the morning off work and drove another almost 40 miles to school. Again, she waited in the nurse's office while I had my morning classes, and when lunch time rolled around, I entered the nurse's office wondering how we would ever resolve this major inconven

Last Friday, I found out during our team meeting that our office would be closed the following Monday and Tuesday (i.e. yesterday and today) for Rosh Hashana. My immediate reaction was panic mixed with a bit of pleasant-surprise-shock--because who wouldn't welcome a day--much less TWO days--off? But I was panicked because I didn't know what to do with myself. I had plans for Saturday until mid-afternoon, and then I had three blank days ahead. Three blank days! "What do I do with myself?!" I crazily asked myself aloud and silently on repeat. I spent the rest of Friday contemplating plans and trips that I could execute in solitude, half-settling on driving up to Norcal to visit some friends. Alas, Saturday rolled around, and I did everything I had planned to do, in addition to a mid-afternoon impromptu shopping trip with my mom. I also ended up staying in Lincoln Heights, given that I had no real reason (i.e. plan) to go back to my apartment, and had lunch and went groc

Before moving into our apartment in PDR in March, M and I had planned to split our time between our houses in OC and LA and commute to work from wherever we were any given day. But that never really happened, because right after that decision, we found this apartment. And frankly, I'm kind of glad it hadn't happened, because I do not enjoy any commute that involves the 405, the 110, or the 10. Weird, though, because in the past month, I have noticed how nomadic our lifestyle is, despite having "found our own place." Almost every Friday, we'd pack our duffle bags and get into the car early afternoon before rush hour or late evening after rush hour to go somewhere--his parents' house, my parents' house, Sacramento, Joshua Tree, somewhere random. And when we came back on Sunday night, we'd exhaustedly toss our duffle bags onto the living room floor, putting off unpacking for a couple of days--only to have to repack on that very Friday. At some point, we

Sunset after the first day of training The wonderful ladies that were by my side  Creative creations by the campers My first time "dabbing"... Ryan always wore a Superman cape, and made a Superman cupcake. So excited about mason jars! "So Pinterest, so Tumblr" "I love the mountains, I love the rolling hills..."  Rock n Roll Breakfast  Teamwork and focus in baking cupcake cones  Cabin 6 love on Cabin Night--we were "so Pinterest" with our mason jars!  A photo with the boys, sans "dab" The dance  Love these gals (and Trevor)  Making "spirit stones" in nature/ mindfulness  The little ones become such gentlemen Strong bonds and sisterhoods (and focus) in the older cabins  The boys patiently awaiting next instructions, so well-behaved!  Better together

This is a post that I had started in August/ September 2015, shortly after I returned from camp (see below). I had begun to summarize my Asia trip at the bottom of the post, and then closed out of the draft window, opting to sleep, telling myself that I'd continue and finish it the next time. It is now July 2016, and the only update to this piece are the added pictures. Everything else to come later, in a separate post... Before I start with what I've been wanting to write, let me tell you this: if you are considering broiling/ boiling vegetables with coconut oil, don't do it. Or if you really want to, use only a tiny bit of the oil, because it certainly is strong. The last few months have been a true blessing, for lack of a brief description. However, since I rarely lack a brief description, here's a skeleton of what I feel fortunate enough to deem a blessing. I'll start backwards chronologically: Camp Ronald McDonald . It's truly the best life decis

Frequently, it occurs to me how little immigrant parents know--and I don't mean that in any negative way. Knowing little of the English language and little about American culture, they assimilate how they can, and what they see is what they absorb and subsequently "know." For instance, until last year, my family had never had a dog--or any pet, for that matter, other than the occasional goldfish we scored from carnivals at Alpine Park. The only kind of dog that we ever "regularly" came in contact with was a distant (but not really, because she lives in El Sereno, which is adjacent to where we live) relative's guard dog, a German shepherd of whom I was stupidly afraid. A little over 1.5 years ago, my dad began contemplating getting a dog; then it became getting a guard dog; and then, of course, it became "getting the dog that 'mumu' [Cantonese translation for a non-blood related grandmother] has." At some point, he found out from mumu the na

Isn't it crazy? When I was younger, I couldn't wait to be twenty-something years old, because I knew these would be the prime years. I assumed I'd know everything there is to know about life by this strange, odd age of 24 (okay, more even than odd). Now here I am, a few weeks past my 24th birthday, without a clue about the adult things that I've been hearing about and should do or start doing, the adult things described with words and numbers I never thought to string together as a child: "Are utilities included in the rent?"  "Is 750 square feet big enough?" "401K." "Make a budget." While I'm getting more involved in the adult life I had long pined for, I admit that a part of me wants to stay at home, where I know I don't have to cook my own meals and can even make requests here and there, where I can assume that if the laundry hamper is overflowing, someone else (i.e. Mom) will likely take care of it, where I am