Tag: family

Not your usual holiday

It’s a Christmas that doesn’t feel much like one.

When I told Brandon I wasn’t going to put a Christmas tree up this year, he reached over to feel my forehead.

“Are you okay?” he asked, feigning concern.

Usually, my Christmas tree goes up the day after Thanksgiving.  Black Friday is spent putting up the tree and do online shopping.  Since we spent Thanksgiving in Thailand, and we didn’t even get back in the country until the 8th, I didn’ think it would be worth the time and energy to put up the tree for a mere 2 weeks.

Unless I want to leave the tree through Valentine’s day, I suggested.

Um, no. He said.

Instead, I wrapped the leis my friend made for me around the CD tower and topped it with a Santa hat.  Heck, I’ve been putting the Christmas presents right at the foot of it already anyway–just as well make it my Christmas “tree”.

I stopped short of wrapping the thing with Christmas lights though.

Also, we have a lot of stuff from Thailand for our friends.  Those things become the Christmas presents…without the wrapping.  And then some of the gifts I had shipped directly to my aunt and her family.  So I shouldn’t have been surprised when I sat down to wrap gifts the other day that I didn’t spend the entire afternoon doing that.

But I was.  I was done wrapping in half an hour.

That deflated me a bit.

Usually, I would sit down on a Sunday with one of the Lord of the Rings on DVD and wrap my gifts.  This time, I barely watched one TV show before I was done with all I had to wrap.  WTF.

Finally, I don’t have any “orphans” to feed this year.  Erik went and eloped with his girl so they are already off to Texas with her family.  Our K9 officer friend actually is not on patrol that evening, so we don’t have to prepare him a to-go box.

However, my aunt and the family are coming over for me to feed instead.  Usually, the family would be traveling this time of year and up until last year May would be off somewhere doing her badminton thing.  But this year, they’re all home.  And they’re coming over.

Of course, having guests coming over makes me want to pull up the Christmas tree.

See beginning argument.

I think CD Tower Tree will have to do.

I really should add the lights though…

Repost: Stuck in Bangkok – Best and Worst

Repost from my Thai-Blogs.com entry.

We finally are leaving Thailand tomorrow. Out of Suvarnabhumi, to my father’s relief. Getting up at 4 a.m. to go to Bitec check-in point for U-tapao would be torturous for the poor man.

My planned 2-week vacation was extended to 19 days of bliss laced with frustration, thanks to the airport closures. However, it’s always good to be home. Things are always changing around here in the Land of Smiles. For better or worse.

So here’s my best/worst list of my recent trip home.

Best: Extended vacation.

Worst: Brandon’s extra week of time off he actually didn’t really have…and therefore eating into the time I was to spend alone with my family and not having to worry about him. It was fun, nonetheless.

Best: Tony Jaa’s action and fight choreography in Ong-Bak 2.

Worst: Ong-Bak 2 as a movie. Seriously. It sucked as a movie but awesome action sequence clips. The story of the last heir, lost in the jungle, seeking revenge, had potential but it was not well developed nor well told. Oh, and digital blood? That was fun to spot too.

Best: Fusion massage at Angsana Spa at Sheraton Grand Laguna Phuket. The best massage I’ve ever gotten in my whole life. (Ask for the therapist named “Cherry”. She’s awesome!) I mean, I was a little jetlag still that afternoon, but I fell asleep so hard she tried to wake me up a few times to flip over.

Worst: The price. Let’s just say that for the amount I paid, I could’ve gotten 10 traditional Thai massage on the beach or 5-7 “oil massage” elsewhere. It was still worth it to me.

Best: Food. Oh my god the food. Not just Thai food but everything else too. I can’t possibly tell you of all the places we’ve eaten so, I’ll break it down gently here.

First, the two standards. We had Thai at my friend’s Kinnaree Gourmet Thai in Sukhumvit Soi 8–always an excellent place with creative and spectacular cocktails. We had to go back twice to Greyhound Cafe for the bacon and egg fried rice, prawns and soba salad, and their Pink Cooler blended juice blend, once at the Emporium and another at Central Chidlom.

We had Vietnamese at Thang Long at the end of Soi Langsuan–mediocre food with exception of a few items.

We had Italian at Torlente, also at the end of Langsuan–old staff and chef of now defunct Pan Pan, delicious but nothing to write home about.

We had a barrage of Japanese grilled goodness at Kuu at Central World–place was packed but the bitty skewers were really good with impressive sake list.

We had hand-cut, freshly made ramen at Crystal Jade La Mian Xiao Long Bao at the Erawan’s Urban Kitchen on the corner of Rajdamri and Ploenchit–yummy noodles, bleh service.

We had the best of Thai and Western food at Thai Airways Catering out by Don Muang Airport, close to Jay Leng outlet–this is what they serve first class passengers and all VIP at their lounges, wonderful food and desserts. Ladies, make your way here. The waiters are sooo gorgeous! (Word is their general manager picked the good looking ones…)

We had French fusion at Angelina at Central Chidlom–a bit pricey, hit-or-miss with the food, but oh so right and oh so French-tastic with dessert and pommes frites and garlic aioli.

We had German brats and sausages, pork legs, and saurkraut and potatoes at the Goethe Institute off of Sathorn Road. I must say the German style pork leg tossed in Thai “yum” spices was better than the original.

We had popcorn at the Central World movie theater. I was perplexed when the attendant asked “What flavor of popcorn would you like?” Apparently, you can get it in salty (plain + salt), sour cream, caramel, and barbecue. American popcorn is better despite the variety of flavors, I have to say.

Off the boats at the Damneun Saduak Floating Market, we had egg rolls, young coconut water, coconut pancakes, pork noodle soup, and Kanom Bueang aka Thai dessert tacos.

We also had food on the side of the road to Khao Yai National Park. Not sure exactly where we were, but the place is famous for their ham and ham steaks. They fry up their ribs + steak to crispy goodness and..a;lskjd;o; Sorry. I had to wipe the drool of the keyboard there for a second…

Worst: Our stomachs just aren’t big enough to eat everything.

Best: Hanging out with my mom’s best friends and served as my late mother’s proxy on a few of the essential trips. They missed her on their excursions and having me there seemed to fill a little bit of the void. The Aunties took us out for lunch at the aforementioned Goethe Institute. Then to do some shopping for silk at The Old Siam. And finally, they took us on a day trip to Khao Yai National Park.

Worst: Having to hold our tongues the whole time as the Aunties tell stories of joining the “mobs” and all other yellow-shirted tid bits. Endearing, but frustrating at times.

Best: Got to see Khao Yai National Park at its greenest. Gorgeous jungle covered mountains and valleys. Roads owned by monkeys. Braking for deer and screaming inside the van for the other car to stop for the deer. (Poor Brandon and our driver possibly lost their hearing for the next hour after that incident.)

Worst: Shelling out for Brandon’s entry fee of 400 baht, ten times of the local entry fee of 40. One of the aunties said we could’ve stuffed him in the back of the van, and nobody would’ve known.

Best: We were pulled over for allegedly speeding up to the tollway booth. As our driver discreetly offer him money, the officer said, “Thai police these days don’t take any bribe.” The van full of aunties exploded in applause.

Partly, our driver mentioned that he works for a “Madame Or”–which is the nickname of Thaksin’s now ex-wife–which is not really a lie as my aunty is also named Or. Haha! Partly, as the aunties believe, is because Brandon was up front with the driver and the cops don’t want to make bad impression. Obviously, none of us believe the officer was truly “honest”. It is sad how we’ve become so jaded.

Worst: Spotting more check points coming back from Khao Yai through Saraburi. Agricultural trucks were being pulled over. Our driver told us that the cops pulled those guys over, inspect the cargo, and ask for their produce instead of money, or sometimes in addition to.

And finally…

Best: My postponed return date allowed me spend Father’s Day and weekend with my dad. We went shopping, had dinner, and saw Ong-Bak 2, something he would probably wouldn’t have done on his own. Now THAT was the best part of the trip.

Worst: Because we were staying at my house, we didn’t get to enjoy the 2,000 baht a day stipend other stranded tourists get at their hotels. Oh well.

Last Weekend

The long weekend is winding down.  So much had happened in our two weeks here in Thailand, the entire country can use a little break.  Seriously, the political scenes seem to have quieted just enough to get through the weekend.

The tourists can certainly use the break.  Suvarnabhumi is open again.  Those of us who need to go/come home now can, and those who are coming/leaving here on holiday can too.

On Thursday, Brandon and I took a little bit of an early start on the long weekend by taking a day road trip with 4 of my mom’s best friends to Khao Yai National Park, 3-hour drive northeast of Bangkok.

The aunties wanted to do this for me, and I wanted to see Aunty Or’s new home being built at the foot of the glorious mountains.  Brandon would also appreciate getting out of town for a while and see the real jungle.

Above all, I was proxy for my mother.  Her friends miss her so dearly.  My mom used go on these trips with them all the time.  Even the house that is being built right now, Aunty Or has my mom in mind and designed it to include wheel chair ramps for future “old ladies expedition”.

I have chronicled all that we ate along the way here.  The part not mentioned will be explained later when I have the pictures.  Let’s just say, after we paid the ridiculous amount of “foreigner fee” for Brandon at 400 Baht while all of us paid 40 Baht each, we did get our money’s worth.  All the monkeys that came rushing to the car everytime we pulled over or slowed down, and all the other monkeys lounging around the highway as if they own the road (probably because they do!), some deer and fawns, and tons of butterflies.

Friday was the King’s Birthday and Father’s Day.  We let dad did his thing and when we was right and ready, we set out for a fun evening.  Dad got a hair cut and so did I.  I was going to make dinner but we were so hungry that we ended up eating at Angelina, a little French cafe in Central Chidlom.  (Review later.)

Dad and I left on our own later to go check out decorations over in Old Town Bangkok for the King’s Birthday.  Being a Friday night and no alcohol was sold (in honor of the King), everybody in town seemed to have the same idea.  We faught traffic out to catch just a little glimpse of it and came home.  But it was a fun father-daughter activity as dad kept pulling over illegally parked so I can run out for a shot, or slowed down in the middle of moving traffic so I could hung out the window for one.

Today was a lot like yesterday in a sense that we took it easy and just hung out with my dad.

We went to see Ong Bak 2 and let me tell you that martial arts and action buff should see this for the action AND THE ACTION ALONE.  Okay maybe for the costumes too.  The story is good but it just wasn’t told well.  Anyway, we came out laughing at the plot but did appreciate the fight choreography.

Dad took us to dinner, Japanese smorgasbord of yumminess.  Across the street was a Thai massage/foot massage place so I suggested we all get an hour of foot rub.  And we did.  And it was soooooo good.

Tomorrow is our last full day here.  We’ll be kicking it here at home and packing.  One final family meal at my brother’s condo.  And tomorrow, we’re off.

What an ordeal it has been!

It’s going

I woke up on my birthday morning to Bond, James Bond.  First thing on the agenda this morning, even before getting any food into our systems, Brandon and I headed out to the theater for Quantum of Solace.

My car, and everything else, was covered in ashes.  Norther sky is but orange brown smoke while it’s bright blue out South, toward the beaches.  As we headed up the 605 North, it felt like we were driving INTO the fire.

Its snowing ashes in oc Driving to cerritos its like the fire is right here! Sunny socal...kinda

We weren’t close to action, but we just got literally only a sniff of what folks are experiencing out there.

The afternoon went on with a little shopping, laundry, and more work on the Big Gala.  All while alternating humming the new James Bond them “Another Way to Die” (I must admit, it’s quite catchy. I hated it at first, coupled with the music video. But now that I’ve heard it a few more times, I actually like this song!) and the classic James Bond theme.  No martini here, however.  Too much to do and not a lot of time to do it.

I packed my bag and laid out things to pack for Thailand trip while Brandon went out chasing the sunset.  He came home empty handed as this time of year the sun doesn’t set where he thinks it was.

Topping off the evening, we went to dinner at Joe’s Sushi in Lakewood.  All you can eat, baby!  14 of us ate and ordered and ate and ordered and ate.  Beer and sake was flowing all around.  At some point we were so stuffed and food was still coming, we had to ask them to stop.  Also, the entire restaurant sang me happy birthday over complimentary fried green tea ice cream.  I shared the loot with my friends and went back to a few more bites of sushi and swigs of sake.

With belly full of food, blood nicely infused with alcohol, and a big, warm heart from good time spent with friends, I came home to a phone call from my dad and brother Onk to wish me a happy birthday.  Here I was, having gone all day thinking they’ve forgotten about me.

Even the small mountain of laundry waiting for me to put away couldn’t dampen my spirit.

The Oak-pocalypse it may be out there, but in here, it’s been a great day.

True Life

I had a dream a few nights ago that I was back in school at Mater Dei.  Having heard Aurora talked about burning her hand on chemistry set back in high school at dinner time, in the dream, I ended up back in a chemistry lab.  My lab partner is one of my school friends but she is for some reason in a wheel chair and for that I have to help her with her lab stuff.

We were supposed to be measuring water into this beaker.  She kept telling me I was doing it wrong, that was too much water, that wasn’t enough water, it wasn’t supposed to drip like that, etc.

Why don’t you just do it, I asked.  You can’t use your legs but your hands are free. I’ll hold the beaker for you, even.

I can’t, she said. I’m sick, can’t you see?  Now, try it again with the dropper.

So I did.  Once again, she said I was doing it wrong.

I grabbed the beaker and poured the water on her head.

Naturally, she started screaming.  What the hell is wrong with you?  Why would you do that?

The teacher came over.  What is going on here, she asked.  Oakley poured water all over me, my lab partner whined.  The teacher looked at me for an answer.

Because she’s being a little bitch, I pointed out.

The room fell silent.

I see America has changed you, the teacher said.  Now, get out of my lab and go pack your bag too. This school no longer welcomes you.  (Apparently, in this dream, my school becomes a boarding school.)

Fine, I said.  And I left.

A bit of foreshadowing perhaps of my trip to come?  Hell, I already got a request to take down my Princess Leia zombie picture on my Facebook because it was “embarassing.”

Just for that, I’m going to upload a whole bunch of pics to my Facebook gallery.

I am turning 32 tomorrow.  Given, I had a pretty good idea of who I was when I came to the U.S. at 16.  However, I have struggled to find my place in the world for years–and I’ve compromised plenty.  Now that I’ve finally embraced my weirdness and quirks and the shape of my body, I refuse to have someone take that away from me again.

Muck like my geek manifesto and declaration of war against “Normal”, I am declaring war against people who want me to be something else I am not.

The only person I would take that kind of criticism from is my mother, and she is no more.  I will no longer compromise when it comes to my identity.

I will not back down to keep the peace just because I make you uncomfortable.  I refuse to be an easy target for you to feel better about yourself.  I refuse to be the scapegoat for your own low self esteem.  I refuse to be responsible for your feelings because you can’t accept me for who I am.

If you need an excuse from me so I am acceptable enough to you, then clearly, you can’t stand me at all.

I am who I am.  Take it or leave it.

How you remind me

It says here in “Death Benefits”:

“The death of a parent — any parent — can set us free. It offers us our last, best chance to become our truest, deepest selves…”

Does it?

I woke up this morning thinking about my mom, or more like how I haven’t been thinking about my mom.

I was questioning myself as to why I don’t seem to be missing her as much as I should.

And then I was reminded of the reason why I wasn’t missing her.

First was a documentary on TLC called “The Woman with Giant Legs” about a woman with a condition so rare that doctors have no idea what caused her legs and feet to grow to more than 210 pounds.  Just her legs and feet.

The show brought back a memory of one point during my tween years.  A few years after I quit ballet, I started to have leg cramps in the middle of the night.  At the doctor’s office, after I was prescribed some calcium and potassium tablets, my mom asked the doctor, “Are her calves normal? I mean, they are so big I’m afraid she might have a disease or some kind of disorder.”

The answer was an obvious no, but the question seared into my brains.

My “giant calves” as it were, were once muscular from ballet.  At the awkward age of growth, apparently they were quite disproportionate to my build.  I was already aware of my not-typically-skinny-like-other-girls legs, but never thought I was disfigured or anything.

I acknowledged at that point that I don’t have supermodel long skinny legs. Not even a normal person skinny legs. I had bowling pins for calves.

My mom made sure I was VERY aware of that fact. With every outfit I picked out. With every picture that showed my legs.

My calves, and later on my hips which are also bigger than the typical butt-on-back-order Thai girls, were constant point of criticism with my mom.  I have since learned to live with them and embraced my shapes.  She wanted me to cover them up.

When I saw that TLC show, not only I thought of that day at the doctor’s office, but I wished she was still around so I can tell her, “See? Now THAT’s a disorder.  My calves are normal, thank you very much.”

Later on in the evening, something came up in a telephone conversation.

“I saw your Thrill the World video.  What an outfit you have on there! If your mom was around to see that, she would’ve had a heart attack.”

Definitely, she would have.  And I would still have done it with her alive and well, knowing she wouldn’t have approved.

It’s not her daughter dancing in front of people in a bikini and shorts but her “fat” daughter with a big ass and giant calves dancing in front of people in a bikini and shorts.

Oh yeah. At 5 ft. and 100 lbs., she told me I was fat.  Actually, one of my brothers had told me same thing not many years ago.

Now that I’m 105 lbs., I think someone is going to send me a hint that I should join WeightWatcher anyday now.

/checks her email box.

I just wasn’t built the way my mom would’ve liked.  I wasn’t built tall, fair, leggy and/or skinny.  I also wasn’t equipped with the girlishness she desired.  I wasn’t soft spoken, mild manner, obedient or prim.

I wasn’t a lot of thing she wanted in a daughter after I turned 12.

I found myself and my voice and I became a daughter from hell.  Somebody with big calves and an even bigger opinion.

I’m sure it has hurt her as much as it has pained me, the war between her ideal of me and who I really am.  I have accepted myself to be a failure in my mother’s eyes.  There is nothing I can do for her now.

Occasionally, I couldn’t help hearing her voice.

Every time I look in the mirror.

Every time I get on a scale.

Every time I choose to go on some offbeat adventure.

But I am going to live the rest of my days without regrets.  Without guilt? That, I can’t guarantee.