Tuesday, April 16, 2013

a year ago

I miss you Grandma. I miss you everyday.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

General Hospital and not the one on TV

Grandma had a stroke yesterday. It was really lucky that it was caught early. My brother was visiting Grandma that day to bring her some things. He saw that she was weak, couldn't keep her eyes open and her face on the left side was droopy and drooling. He had the nurses call an ambulance. They got her to the hospital quickly and treated her immediately. Mom says she was talking clearly that night. Grandma kept asking for fishball noodle soup. Apparently, my uncle makes it for her when she visited on the weekends. It was good to know that she was alert and hungry.

I spent most of the day with her today with my brother. She slept most of the day but she was talking and eating. She looked extra frail in that hospital bed. I know she bruises easily but those bruises left from IVs, shots and blood draws were worrisome. My aunt had my grandma's teeth, scared that the ER might lose them, so Grandma couldn't eat solid food until my aunt came back. It was sad but kinda funny. The MRI and contrast CT showed that the stroke happened on the right side of the brain. The damage is very minimal considering the area that lost blood flow during the stroke. The left side of her face still shows some facial weakness so time will tell on the actual extent of the damage.

I knew this year didn't involve enough crap yet.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Finding the answer

I say I'm frustrated at work but more and more I think I'm frustrated at life. Work just happens to be a part of life. I have more work than I have time in the day. But I can't really complain 'cause the boss goes home and does more work anyway. Granted, most of my work can't be taken home. I feel underpaid for my job. I'm sure most people feel underpaid for their job but I'm seriously making less than I used to. I can prove that. That supposed promotion didn't make me feel valued at all. I feel like no one listens to anything I say so what's the real point of my position? I'm a gopher with a veneer of credibility. Sometimes I feel like a secretary.

I'm stuck in this house under my mother's roof. She won't let me out. She needs me to help out. She's trapped me, the same way she's trapped me my entire life. I don't think I'll ever get out. There are grandiose talks of making things different but it'll never happen and never make it different. I want out and I can't.

I replaced school with work but nothing else has changed.

Monday, March 07, 2011

This doesn't help


I came across this article a few days ago. I have mixed feelings about this article and mostly negative ones. I like that the article looks at legitimate (i think, haven't checked) studies to support his claim. I fear that this book does help the women's movement in anyway. If anything, it's more like justification for the male population to take back/neglect some women's rights that were so hard fought. "Women handle pain better then they don't need all that maternity leave." Alright, that's a bit exaggerated but not unfounded. The article makes it seem like women have made huge strides in equality in the work force such as reaching the top levels of power. Although that is a noteworthy statistic, it doesn't overshadow the fact that women still hold a very small percentage of the positions of power within corporations or government.

I'm overthinking this....

Tuesday, January 04, 2011

Something on the side

I made a new blog to capture all the stories my mother has told me all these year. It's mostly just for me.


Thursday, August 26, 2010

Lost Memories I Didn't Know I Had

My mom just told me that someone stole from us while we were moving. She's missing some jewelry, money, and picture. She said it was packed into a box with some other stuff and a jade buddha. My aunt has the buddha now saying she found it on the floor during the last sweep of the apartment and thought it was really nice (and it is) and should be kept so she took it home. Mom suspects that the thief was non-Asian, took out the buddha not knowing its worth, and took the box. I don't even remember such a thing when I was around the place but then again, there was such a big mess I might have just glazed over the whole scene.

The worst thing isn't the money or the jewelry. Sure, it took years to earn the money to purchase all those baubles and each one holds its own memories and sentimental values. I will miss those rings I used to put on my tiny fingers as a child wishing I was big enough to wear them. I will miss those necklaces and earrings I would mix and match as I played dress up. But those things can be replaced. Sure, it was part of my inheritance but I have a house now. If anything, those were outdated styles anyway.

The worst thing is the pictures. We lost all the pictures of my mom and dad's childhood. Most if not all of the photos were old portrait-type photos. Still-lives of a family to be printed and shown-off. Those kinds of pictures don't tell much of a story on their own but they were memories of a past untold.

My mother always told stories of how poor they were but those photos proved that the family had some money and I always used that in countering my mother's lessons of "we were so poor". I liked how my mom and her older sister looked so similar, then and now. I liked how grandma looked the same for so many years; it gave me comfort for my old age. I looked at those pictures and still wondered "who do I look like?".

My father was never much of a talker. He never told stories of his past. Everything I know came from my mother and her stories came from his sisters and his mother. With those stories and the look in his eyes of those photos, I could imagine what kind of child my father was. And how that child became the teenager in the convertible. And how that teenager became the man in bellbottoms. I still wonder how much of him I inherited.

All I can hope for now is that the thief was kind enough to give the pictures back and it's still in a box.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Next Step

I've officially taken the next step in my career. And I've never been so unsure. If someone presented me with this job when I first started college, I won't have even thought about it. It's not a lab job, why would I care? It might not be where I thought I would be but if this job works out the way I hope it would, then I would still end up where I want to be. As a coworker said, "It's your first adult job." It's definitely a step away from the job I got hired for. Here's to new futures.