Entry 43: Becoming Older… and Apparently More Parent-y

Every Sunday for me and my family is Football Sunday. And when it’s not football season, it’s Walking Dead Sunday, and then Game of Thrones Sunday. And if neither of those shows are on, me and husband look at each and are like, none of the shows we like are on… what do you want to do? At which point, we filter through HBO, Prime, or Netflix, and if nothing on those services appeal to our interest, we watch Big Bang Theory.

Luckily, we have not faced that roadblock since it is football season. This past Sunday night football, we had a few friends over, and extended the invitation to a few friends of a friend.

At the end of the night, one of the extended friends, who is 23 years old, was like you guys don’t have any kids? (A : Uhm, I think you would’ve seen them if we did) ..oh… cuz you guys are like.. parent-y.

I don’t think he meant it in a negative way, or at least I certainly didn’t take it that way. The only reasons I can think of why he said it was maybe because a. we’re a whole decade older than him or b. we’re good hosts and fed him.

Whatever the reason, in my head – I was like, parent-y? when did that happen? Especially since I myself don’t think I have the maturity of a parent, let alone an adult. Maybe if I showed him my adult coloring book collection, or the hello kitty socks that I have in my drawer, he would think otherwise.

Or not.

Earlier that evening, a commercial came on for The Voice.

23 year old :  I don’t even know who the black chick is.

Me: That’s Jennifer Hudson… she was on American Idle

::Blank stare::

I have accepted that this will happen more and more the older that I get: having to explain pop culture and events of yesteryear that will be met with blank stares. I am anticipating that the day when I have to explain who NSync and the BackStreet Boys are will come fairly soon. It will be a day that will hurt my heart, but one which I will gladly take the time to explain the cultural phenom that was.

It makes me think about how my teachers in high school tried to explain world events that they lived through – like the Berlin Wall coming down. Or how my mom’s face would light up whenever she saw Donny Osmond on tv , and how I myself met them with stares of yea, I know you’ve lived through this, and I can see you feel a certain way, but I can’t exactly share your emotion. 

Ehh, it is what it is. It’s all a part of getting older… and becoming parent-y .. I suppose.

Until next time…

 

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Entry 43: Becoming Older… and Apparently More Parent-y

Entry 42: Rice is Rice

I was at the local grocery store buying the weeks groceries. As I was checking out, the cashier commented on the bag of rice I was purchasing.

“Is that brand good?” she asked

I gave her a look of confusion

“Is that what Asians eat?”

“I don’t know,” I responded. “It’s fine?”

I found it funny that she thought that in some way I was qualified to speak on behalf of all Asians, or that all Asians are alike. I mean, I am Asian, I look Asian, but if one is also basing their definition of “Asian” on existing stereotypes, I don’t think I meet all the check boxes:  I’m not good at math, I’m not a child musical prodigy, and if you ask me cultural questions or what Asians do to celebrate what.. I wouldn’t know how to explain a lot it.

But in regards to this rice-buying, I think if I was more Asian, I would’ve gone out of my way to travel 40 minutes to the only Asian market in town comparable to the ones back in Seattle, to grab a bag of rice. That’s what my dad would’ve have done. He’s one of those who’s hardcore about where and what brand of rice he buys.  If he saw me buying a bag from a grocery store whose “Asian section” consists of a few shelves filled fortune cookies, Top Ramen, and soy sauce, he would probably look at me with shame, wondering what he did wrong.

And then he would probably make me put it back and drive that 40 minutes to get proper rice.

But alas, He’s not here and I was lazy, and ultimately I was okay with buying rice from the regular grocery store. This did, however, make me think how there’s so much of a cultural gap between me and my dad. As much as he tried to raise me and my brother “In the Asian/Filipino way” ,  a lot of the culture and traditions he had grown up with ultimately became lost in us as we became infused with becoming “Americanized”  Not all of it, but enough.  As friends start having kids, it makes me think about how much of the “culture” that was passed on from our parents that we ended up keeping, will be valued and kept by our children?

I don’t know if I’m making sense, but I guess what I’m trying say is – what if my kid not only doesn’t care about where or what brand of rice to buy, but doesn’t like rice at all and is like, gross mom – I’m going to eat this quinoa bowl instead.  or what if they don’t Filipino food in general? I have a cousin who’s half Filipino and he doesn’t like Filipino food, and all I can think of is – how did that happen? And…What if they don’t like to Karaoke?!?!  That would mean that there would be days where I would be the only one in my house, munching on Filipino food, with a karaoke mike in my hand, the other mike sitting on the stand… waiting to have someone pick it up so they could duet with me.

Ehh… I know it’s not the it’s the end of the world if my kids end up different from me.  The more important thing is that they’re healthy, happy, and not a dick. But with regards to passing on culture, I guess the only thing you can really do is try to infuse them with the values and traditions you find important, and hope that they grow to value it as well.

Some other random thoughts I have :

  1. Remember that website AsianAvenue?
  2. In Seattle, remember when you’d go out on Friday/Saturday and there’d be people taking your picture so you’d end up on that Sea-Spot website or whatever? Is that still a thing?

Anyways…Until next time.

 

Entry 42: Rice is Rice

Entry 36: Now that Lent is Over….

Easter is over, and so is my fast from social media. I’m sure you all were wondering why I hadn’t been posting constant status updates or instagram posts on the happenings of my life (Because my life is so interesting), but rest assured – I am alive and everything is okay.  I had just given up social media for Lent.

I know what you’re probably thinking, social media? really? Jesus died on a cross and you chose to give up facebook for 40 days? Geez,  well,  now that I say it in my head, it sounds really lame because the two could never equate in suffering, but at the time I thought it was a great idea… and before I get judged – its my Lenten journey ! I do what I want!

At first it was pretty hard. My daily instinct was to usually go on social media, see what so-and-so was up to, or see where so-and-so went (because everyone leads such interesting lives)  To not have the ability to go on social media created a sense of anxiety that needed to be distracted by other stimulation.

A few weeks into Lent, I watched this Anderson Pooper 60 minutes piece on the effects of being on mobile devices for too long. He interestingly goes into the science of how you become anxious when not on the mobile device and how ‘checking-in’ releases this chemical in your brain to ease anxiety.

Holy shit, I said while I watched this episode. Luckily I hadn’t given up swearing. This is me!

Towards the end of Lent, I definitely felt less of a need to check my phone on a constant basis, less of a need to see that so-and-so checked in on Facebook to let everyone know they had to take shit in the bathroom of their own house, less of a need to let other people know what was going on with me, and less a need to figure right then and there the answer to whatever obscure question popped up in my head. Like, How tall is Jake Gyllenhaal. There was a time where we would ask these questions, and just be like…. huh, I don’t know.  and that would be that.

Sidetrack : If you really want to know the answer to this question of tall Jake Gyllenhaal is, there’s this awesome podcast called Mystery Show where the hosts investigates random questions, including this one. It’s super funny, and from what I remember she ends up actally talking to Jake Gyllenhaal (Jake Gyllenhaal is like “why does everyone keep asking me this!?!) and finding out how tall he is.

I definitely more focused on the here and now. And now that Lent is over, I’m trying to be more careful about not letting myself become as consumed as I once was and  I’m much more cynical over what I post. I mean, I think it’s great to share things about the cool stuff one experiences in life, but for me – my life isn’t really that cool. I’m not curing cancer or saving babies in Africa. I’m just in bed, with my glasses on, crusty’s in the eyes.  I don’t have deodorant on (yet). I plan to like meal plan today…. and then..yeah,  not that interesting or relevant.

But anyways… Until next time…

Entry 36: Now that Lent is Over….

Entry 33: Putting Effort to look like a Lady

I swore when I became a full-time housewife that I would never let myself go: I would workout, do household chores, do my make-up and curl my hair, so that my husband would come home to a hot and sexy wife.

Now I’ve been a housewife for close to a year, my husband comes home and with one look is like did you even comb your hair? 

No, I did not.

I’ve become the woman I swore I would never become: wearing sweats all day, a loose fitted shirt, and hair tied up in a messy bun. While I do feel like I have gotten in better shape with so much time to workout, I’ve realized that it’s too much effort to “get done up” if you will, when after the gym I have to clean the house and do all these chores. Besides which , the question I always find myself asking when thinking about putting some makeup on is Who’s going to see me?  Am I really putting on make-up just to go to Target? 

The other week I went to jury duty, and as I walked up the steps to the courthouse, I saw a woman, dressed in a pencil skirt, fashionable 3 inch stilletoes, and a Luis Vuitton bag around her shoulder. Her make up was done to perfection, and you could tell she had taken the time to blowdry and straighten her hair out. She reminded me of my younger self (minus the Luis bag because I can’t afford that shit), back when I had a 9 to 5, and suddenly I became self-conscious of what I was wearing, how my hair was in a quick bun, and how minimal my make-up was. Had I forgotten what it was like to be a confident woman?

Since then, I’ve been putting a little more effort in my appearance, actually showering daily, not waiting for my hair to knot up before brushing it, and putting makeup on in an effort to not lose my sense of feminity. I’m not going all out with my apearance, because – like I said before – who’s going to see me when I’m sweeping, but I don’t want to be that person that wears sweats every day out of laziness.

That’s all for now. Until next time…

 

Entry 33: Putting Effort to look like a Lady