Where are you *really* from?

I was in the fourth or fifth grade when I realized I was different. Being quite the homebody has sheltered me within the predominantly white community I grew up in.

I just remember that one day, some of my classmates suddenly didn't want to play with me at recess. It was as if they woke up that morning and thought, "Eden's weird. Let's not play with her." So I played alone. As we got into our orderly lines to go back into class, one of the girls came up to me and asked, "Why is your face so flat?" I stood there, shocked, blushing furiously. What did that mean? Do I have a flat face? I looked around. I guess the only people with flat faces were people who looked like...looked like me.

"Why is your face so flat?"

I still think about that when I look at myself in the mirror.

(This video includes racial slurs and vulgarities.)

 

#thisis2016: Asian-Americans Respond to Racist Remarks
An editor for The New York Times wrote an open letter to a woman who told him to "go back to China." Asian-Americans responded by sharing their own racist moments using #thisis2016. Here are some of those moments. Warning: This video includes racial slurs and vulgarities.
Posted by The New York Times on Thursday, October 13, 2016

Fortunately, I have never been called a racial slur. In fact, it wasn't till I was a freshman in college when I had to have a friend tell me what the slur was. I'm grateful for that. But, as this video shows and accounts from my Asian American friends, people are still calling us by these vulgarities. People are still ignorant and insensitive, pulling Mickey Rooneys when they impersonate us, using white actors to portray us, using us as the butt of the joke at the Oscars. Because, in the end, I guess we don't belong. I guess my 19 years growing up here doesn't matter. Here's a sampling of what I've heard in my adult life.

Acquaintance at a school gathering: "Ge ga goo blah — hey, it's like I'm speaking Chinese. Eden, what am I saying?" 

Guy in Sunday school, right before he asked me out on a date: "Have you ever had mooncake? I don't speak Chinese, so I haven't." 

Stranger who followed me as I was speed walking to class: "Are you Chinese? You should eat at Chinatown. You'd like it." 

After an interfaith choir concert: "Oh, you grew up here? I was about to say, you don't have an accent." 

Stranger on the train: "Hey, can you help me with my Chinese homework?" 

"Where are you really from?"

This is 2016.

It's a new year.

Do you remember when this blog used to be clever and fun, and not saturated with depressing issues I have?

Yeah, I almost forgot too.

Here's to a new year.

I hope you're ready. I'm bringing back my blog.

Heavenly.

I hope there are ton of mahjong tables for you up in heaven. Save a match for me, Po Po.

And I hope heaven is, well, Heavenly.

 

Time to run.

I had this whole thing written about how this was the year I was going to hit the ground running and how I was going to figure out my life and everything. I quickly erased it because, let's be honest, I have no idea what I am doing.

I hope I can figure things out soon.

It's December.

It's December.

Thank goodness.

This was perhaps one of the busiest semesters in my entire college career thus far. And to be honest, I've burnt out. Perhaps going to school spring and summer was not a good idea because everything has been rather bland to me. School, work, people, music--they all were routine. And it wasn't until these last couple weeks of this semester that I started feeling like myself again.

We were planning on going to Colorado two weekends ago to see Trevor Hall and Nahko and Medicine for the People and I thought that that would lift my mood. But the snow put an end to our plan very quick, and I was a bit bummed, but somewhat relieved because I had too much to do.

That same Saturday we were going to see Trevor and Nahko, I went to see Isaac Russell at the Velour. I think he is a brilliant artist and although it wasn't the best concert I've been too, "Heaven" had me feeling again. That, and Isaac's guitarist who looks like a bearded Ben Wyatt/Adam Scott. And I love Ben.

(This was from the same concert I attended. Thank you to n8hankins for recording this.)

Tame.

"What does that mean--'tame'?"
"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. "It means to establish ties."
"'To establish ties'?"
"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world..."
"I am beginning to understand," said the little prince. "There is a flower...I think that she has tamed me..."

--Antoine de Saint-Exupery, "The Little Prince"

The Little Prince

I hate saying goodbye. Sometimes my fear of saying goodbye is so overpowering, it prevents me from getting to know people. Because once I get to know someone, we would create that bond and we would be unique in all the world to one another in some way. But the only thing constant in the world is change and with change comes goodbyes, both temporary and not.

Last Friday afternoon, I said goodbye to my boss who is leaving to work with the homeless in Salt Lake. In mid-December, I will commemorate the beautiful lives America said goodbye to in Newtown. In the new year, I will say goodbye to friends graduating. Years (hopefully lots of them) down the road, people will say goodbye to me, and not after saying goodbye to friends along the way.

Goodbyes make life daunting.

Someone told me they believe that in heaven, every person we ever tamed in our lives, who tamed us as well, will reunite with us and it would be as if we never said goodbye at all.

I choose to believe that as well.

Why did I post this on Thanksgiving day? Good question. I'm not sure. (Also, fyi, I'm writing this at two in the morning so if none of this is making sense...that is why.) I guess I wanted to thank you for your friendship to me through my 21 years. Wherever you are (and I am sure we know each other if you are reading my personal blog ha), I hope you are well. I am sorry if our goodbye came abruptly and I ask for forgiveness if I am to blame for that.

But I am glad that our bond did happen and for how I've grown through it. I am thankful for the kinships I have right now and for the love and support they give me. Most of all, I am ever grateful for the relationship I have with my Savior Jesus Christ and for all that He has done for me. He lives.

Happy Thanksgiving, my friends. I truly love you all.

Last weeks of summer.

As the summer is coming to a close, I've been more and more exhausted. So this post will be more photo-heavy than usual for my blog. In fact, more peculiar for my blog.

Anyway it's been a while since I've posted. Over a month, to be, um, exact...ish.

In that time, I've traveled to San Francisco and got lost in a sea of Asian tourists.

Crooked/Lombard Street.

And Sacramento, which was way boring. With the exception of this Nile River-esque, pyramid scene.

I was stranded in Elko, Nevada due to a flat tire on a Sunday.

Photo cred: Michelle

I finished the summer term.

[Insert photo here.]

Not too bad.

After this post, I had myself and some of you worried about me living alone this summer. And I guess it didn't help that I haven't posted on my blog in a while. But, as the title suggests, living by myself is not too bad. In fact, I love it. Don't get me wrong. I love people and I cannot wait till my darling roommates come back from Africa. But I have a feeling that when I think back on the summer of 2013, I will remember it as the summer of greatness and of growing up.

School and work have kept and still keeps me busy in the mornings and afternoons. But I have to admit, I didn't know what to do with myself those first, quiet May nights. So I cleaned. A lot. And it wasn't because the apartment needed cleaning, but because I had nothing better to do. I remember making a midnight run to Smiths solely for the purpose of purchasing Lime-A-Way. But hey, the water fixtures have never been shinier.

And on the especially quiet days/afternoons/nights, I decided to not only fill it with music, but with loud music. My sincerest apologies, neighbors.

Suddenly, I realized the greatest thing about living alone.

Those of you who know me in such a setting know how much I love to dance. But dancing in an empty apartment? That's a whole new realm of awesomeness. There's just something absolutely freeing about dancing off of everything--couches, chairs, stools, counters--in anything I want and without the fear of being stomped on or accidentally touching the bare, sweaty arms and exposed pectorals of grunting bros in tank tops (ugh, *shudder*). And when I'm too lazy to go to the gym? What an entertaining form of cardio.

Conversations with strangers.

Over the last year, I have been stopped multiple times on campus by random people as I am walking. Everytime, without fail, these bold people ask, "Where do you come from?" Honestly? I'm rushing to class. This isn't the time nor place to be asking me about my ethnicity. Years of answering this question has allowed me to quickly, and clearly, state. "Imfromconnecticut, myfamilysfromhongkong."

"Oh, I just got back from a trip/mission to China/Korea/Japan," is usually their reply.

Blah blah blah. Don't get me wrong, I like talking about my heritage, but in a three minute conversation while I am trying not to be trampled by students, nothing profound can come from it.

The weirdest experience was when I was speed walking--because running makes you look like a fool--to work at the SWKT when I hear steps behind me quicken, each step sounding closer and closer. Suddenly, out of my peripheral, I noticed this guy matching my pace and stride. As I sped up, he sped up with me. I slowed down, he did the same. I finally looked at him and acknowledged him. I heard him ask, "Are you from Chinese?" and thinking he meant Chinese class, I said yes.

In retrospect, I think he either asked, "Are you Chinese?" or "Are you from China?"

"Well neat. Did you serve Chinese speaking?" expecting him to be yet another return missionary.
"Nope, I went to Peru."
"Oh."
"I work at Chinatown."
There it was. "Neat."
He then attempted to speak Chinese.
"Sorry, excuse me?"
"Woshimiegoren."
"Oh, ni shi mei guo ren," I said, correcting his tones.
"That's what I said, woshimiegoren."
"OK."
"You should come by Chinatown sometime."
"OK."
"Bye." Then he turned around and walked back the direction we were walking away from.
And there we go. We're probably going to be best friends forever.

The zipper.

I felt good. I felt really good. My job interviewing skills were getting better and better and I think I got this job. This is a dream--PR and secretarial work. No one likes organizing calendars and working with social media more than this girl.

The original shorteralls (overall shorts).

So I went back to my apartment, happy as clam, or mussel, or some short of shellfish (how did this idiom come about?). I shared my excitement with my friends and went on for a couple minutes about the company. I turned around and started heading back to my apartment to change. 

"Eden," Nicolle hesitated. "Has your zipper been down this whole time?"

I thought for a second. Did this skirt have a zipper? No...right?

Nicolle walked up behind me and ziiiiiiiip.

Oh crap. My mind started racing. Where have I been? Who had seen me? How did I miss the zipper? The room was rising in temperature. I remember rushing home from my final to grab Camille's car keys and changing very quickly. I remember fastening the clasps...but I couldn't recall zipping the zipper. My interviewers might have seen. "Eden?" I became unresponsive to my friends. I'm clawing at the recesses of my mind to find a place to hide. I kept thinking. The man was at least a billion feet tall, so maybe not him. The woman seemed exhausted from interviewing all day long. She was seated. She could have witnessed my plaid blue underwear (thank goodness it was appropriate). The man in the back booth of Kneaders. For sure, he saw. All those cars that passed me when I went to Illia's to say goodbye. All five of those cars, abundant with people.

And now my friends. (Oh, how I will miss them.)

As my flashbacks began to dim, I became more conscious of my physical surroundings. Laughter filled my ears, the room was hot and it was hard to breathe. I was so confident in my interview, and one simple mistake, one sign of weakness tore me down.

Predator.

There is a crazy cat infestation around my complex. Sometimes the meowing in the night keeps me up. It definitely is becoming a problem. And it doesn't help that the old mattress in the parking garage is housing a billion of those cats.

Over a month ago, there was a grey cat lying very soggy and very dead on the storm drain in front of my apartment, the same entrance to hell that the raccoon around here sulks into each morning.

Don't worry, I called animal control.

Nicolle wrote a nice eulogy for Banjo the cat.

Sometime last week, I was walking to grab a soda and fries for a night in with Camille. I strolled by some bushes next to my apartment complex when suddenly, the bushes rustled and started growling. I stood still for a half a second, stiffened when the snarling intensified and I heard the sound of flesh tearing. I quickened my pace and thought, "What the heck am I going to do if this animal pounced on me?" Two more steps and I was out of the devil's sight but not before hearing a rough bark--not of a dog--and gnashing of teeth. It must have been rabid as the sounds rising from the stirring bushes concocted images into my mind of a creature with froth and blood dripping from its open, hungry mouth.

To the victim of the vicious circle of life, although you didn't go in such a way, I hope you rest in peace.

Anyway, I hope finals are going well. Here's a clip from Bob's Burgers...one of my newfound television favorites.

It's a special brand of humor. It took me three or four episodes to get into it. And now I love it.

In other news this morning, the Associated Press' twitter was hacked. It tweeted falsely that there was an explosion at the White House and Obama was injured. The AP stock fell drastically then came back up. And now my primary source of news (AP tweets to my phone) has been suspended.

Have a good day, my friends.

The silence.

My best friends are the best out of those I have made in my life. They understand my quietness not (solely) as introverted awkwardness (because let's admit it, I am sometimes awkward when I converse), but as just thinking time for me, as time for me to just soak in what is going on around me and to just be with whoever I am with. Other people, even you, may misunderstand this quietness as a barrier between myself and the world, as extreme introverted-ness, or an unwillingness to get to know you. One of my high school Spanish teachers once described me as "nice, but not friendly." I am sorry if I come across to you that way. I promise, I am friendly once you get to know me (and that was high school...wasn't that a weird time for everyone?). And I can't really explain why I am so quiet. I did take a personality test for my class this semester and it said I am an ISFJ, which, I guess, kind of provides an answer to the why. Upon reading more about what psychology had to say about my personality, I came across a segment in the Wikipedia article saying that my "reluctance to open up to strangers can lead others to misread them [ISFJs] as standoffish." I apologize if I ever come off as standoffish. This is not me. So, as my remedy to any misconceptions you may have of me, I decided to periodically post about my thoughts and emotions as a way for you to get to know me without me having to really talk about my thoughts and emotions.

I have always preferred writing to talking about my emotions.

So right now, I am feeling very anxious. The same best friends are leaving for their home, for their internships abroad or for their mission. I am very happy for them, don't get me wrong, and I am excited for this summer. But I am also scared of change. And although I have done many things by myself--I love the quiet of my room, of my apartment, of my world--there are moments when I am alone where I feel troubled and suffocated by the silence. And I am going to be alone soon.

But this will be good for me. And it'll only be for a little while in the grand scheme of things. That's what I keep saying to myself. That's what everyone keeps saying. I just need to stay focused on the good that will come from this and not let my mind go to a dark place. I have a new calling in church, I have neat classes that will keep me busy, I (may) have a job, I have more time to read books and take up new hobbies. I have you. I have future me. I have God.

Dear friends and readers, my closest of friends are leaving so please be patient with me if I seem even more overwhelmingly quiet in a couple weeks.  But I will come out to play soon.

An email from the future.

Monday evening, Eden sat at the table with her books scattered about. She was leaning heavily on her left arm, her hand clutching at the roots of her hair as her other hand restlessly shook her pen against her textbook. Too many characters to memorize before Saturday. 她要會去睡覺。

"This final will be the death of me," she muttered under her breath.

Amidst the mumbling and grumbling, Eden's phone started buzzing, startling her as it disrupted the silence. Apparently, AIM was still alive and well and now allowed texting. It simply stated that she "received a txt from an AOL/AIM user." 

The message?

"Check your junk and spam mail...your first task is waiting." 

Eden started freaking out. What the heck was going on. How did this person get her number and her email? Privacy is dead and pretty soon, she was going to die. That's how it was in the movies, right? Some form of privacy is breached and then the victim dies. She was going to die.

This didn't stop her though. No, not Eden. She delved into her spam folder and found an email from an Eden Wen. Same username, just different service...

Finals.

Ancestors
Hear my plea
Help me not to fail my finals please
And to not pollute my grades with C's
Help me to survive this week...

Oh goodness. Ohhhhh goodness. Finals are nigh and my motivation to study is nonexistent. Each time I open a textbook, I end up shutting it within five minutes, tears pooling in my eyes, overwhelmed with the amount of concepts and characters and craziness I have to store back into my brain.

I just can't wait to be done with finals. I am ready to to celebrate the end of this semester. I am ready to shed the woes of this past semester and start anew. And although I am quite wary of change, I am ready for spring and summer and for the new adventures that it'll bring.

Wednesdays.

The fluorescent lights flickered above me as I laid sprawled on the floor. My chest was rising, falling, gasping for air as I thought to myself, My innards are about to rip...I can't go on.

I shut my eyes for a second and I felt my breathing slowly return to normal. An odd rendition of that one "Harlem Shake" song was playing in the background. I was feeling lightheaded and the music began to fade. Was it the end of the song? Or am I losing consciousness?

Suddenly, a voice.

"Alright, if it hurts to go on, go to your happy place."

My happy place? My mind immediately began to trace an image of...of...of the most delicious chocolate cake I have ever seen. I began to taste the gooeyness of the chocolate chip cookies, fresh out the oven. Betty Crocker appeared in my kitchen and handed me a spatula and a bowl of brownie mix. Her eyes twinkled and spoke to me, saying, "Here, eat."

I closed my eyes...the corners of my mouth twitched into a smile. The chocolate was numbing my pain.

"Eden! Did you really just fall asleep?" My eyes flipped open, I lifted my head and looked to the left. My sister, legs propped up on an exercise ball and in a shaky V-position, was staring in disbelief.

"Hold for one more set, ladies!" The voice at the front of the room enveloped the "Harlem Shake."

"3, 2, 1 and alright! You're done!" Sighs of relief filled the room and finally, the Wednesday morning abs class was over. I closed my eyes again.

Betty Crocker reappeared.

--------
Let's give a round of applause for my first three guest bloggers, Nicolle, Sam and Michelle. Absolutely brilliant. They made this past month incredible with their words. (More guests coming in the near future!)

And now the reason for this blog: my life. I thought school was my biggest obstacle in this past month with the most time-consuming midterm project of my life (honestly...we ended it with an all-nighter that taught me Red Bull causes me to stutter...).

Wheeeeeee.

I couldn't think of a better title...

Before I begin, I found this on the Interweb and I laughed.

Preach on, sister.

Moving on.

Hello friends. It's been a while since I've posted anything. I'm in Hong Kong now for Christmas and New Years. While it's nice to be in a new place for the holidays, I think I would have wanted to be in my own home with my family for Christmas and Christmas. But no matter. I'm plenty busy with the fun hoodrat activities my extended families plans.

Also, I think I've gained at least ten pounds because I've been eating lots of dim sum. (My posts can be educational...)

Merrrrrrg.

Tonight, I'll be spending New Years Eve the same way I do every New Years Eve: mahjong marathon in front of the TV while watching the city countdown.

I love it.

At first, I really wanted to see the fireworks and light shows, but I decided that a four-hour wait to watch an eight-minute show and the four-hour trek back to my grandma's was not worth it. Even if it was going to be really cool...

But also, it's cold. A wet cold, a lingering cold that chills you to your bones. A cold that doesn't care that you have fifty layers on, it will get to you.

So I'm staying in tonight.

My life...Whaaattt!!!

I feel somewhat obligated to talk about what's been up the last couple weeks before I rant on again about music (oh no...insecurity coming up...um...do you like my music posts?) and people I will never meet or write something that I actually put effort into.

Here's a little update on my life, in a very unorganized manner.

Reading: "Eugene Onegin" by Alexander Pushkin. Whaaattt!!! Love it thus far. Those Russians are so romantic.

I burned my body at Coopers Beach a couple weeks ago. Whaaattt!!! I did not enjoy getting my first sunburn of this scale. It was a nice beach though. Waves were a little big, so I practically died (not really). I turned a shade of red I have never seen on myself. And it hurt, man. It hurt.

I flew a plane. Whaaattt!!! I got a little motion sick in the tiny cockpit, but it was fun and invigorating, and a lot less scarier than I thought it would be...my instructor was sitting right next to me.

This was the plane.

This is me in the plane.

I went to Boston to visit Mel at Berklee. Whaaattt!!! I wish I played an instrument better so I could transfer there. Also, I thought I liked Boston more than New York City for a couple minutes, but then I slapped myself when I went back to the city that same week with a dear friend of mine. Boston is cool, but not as cool as NYC. Also, Boston's homeless people are scarier...they grasp onto you. (It didn't happen to me, but to the man in front of me.) And it was darker at night. (Random aside: I've also decided that I will probably live on a coast when I graduate. East or West, in the United States or in Asia. Somewhere by the water.)

Happy Easter!--Celebrating it the American way.

Really quick: my blog is one-year-old as of yesterday! Moving on. Last year, I finished finals and was home to celebrate Easter. This year, I'm still in school. But no worries.

It finally hit me the other day that my family never really "celebrated" Easter. Yes, we talked about the religious aspect of it, but besides that, I only remember one year we hid eggs in the front yard, but because I was terrified of nature due to lyme-disease-ridden ticks, that was the end of that.

Oh, and I also remember from my childhood the high school field was filled with the little chocolate eggs and at the blow of a whistle, all the little kids ran the field and fought each other to gather the most eggs. Then we stopped going. I think someone was trampled? I could have dreamt that. But it was the Hunger Games. We shamelessly used our baskets as clubs as we clawed at each others' fists to grab their chocolates.

I was over at Crystal's for dinner last night and everyone at the table, with the exception of me and Crystal, receives gifts on Easter. It's like Christmas and Halloween combined! I mean, even Pope Benedict XVI got a 550 pound, 7.2 feet tall chocolate Easter egg.

As I learned yesterday (Nicolle described it to me), Easter is a very Catholic religion, in that sense. And seeing as how Southeast Asia was exposed to Christianity at a later century, we Asians don't have Easter gifts and such.

But today, I found this.

Mm. So good...and I may or may not have made this for myself.

My own Easter basket! Full of deliciousness, but alas, no new iPod (someone I spoke to yesterday got tech stuff like that for Easter).

Look out Provo, here comes Eden.

My friends. The time has come.

My training wheels have...arrived.

So yes, I have blogged many times about my new bike and how one day I will ride it once I've gotten over my fear.

That one day is one day closer.

Pretty soon I'll be zooming around Provo on my bike. And I will not be afraid. I have found comfort and inspiration from the words of this little boy.

Even with an orchestra and bagpipes and such, why is it that background music makes anything that much more exciting?

Though, confession: I think the bagpipes can be very beautiful. Also, they remind me of "Braveheart."

Anyway, I'm stoked about riding my bike finally. I've teased Utah enough with even the mere thought of riding my bike. There's no snow, so there's little chance I will slip. And pretty much, I will never fall, since I have wheels on both sides to protect me. 

Now, I know that by having such bicycle accessories may bring about three different reactions:

1. "Aw, Eden! Good for you! You can do it!" (Complete with back pats.)
2. "Really Eden? Really?" (With eyebrows raised.)
3. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" (Finger pointing included.)

I know this because when I have told people about my training wheels, these were the only reactions I got.

Finger pointing wasn't necessary, friends. But I still love you.

Have a good day, everyone. Here is a song for you.

p.s. Check out The Calendar Owl.

Study, studyy, studyyy.....FACEBOOK

I'm sorry I haven't posted. I've decided not to have a set a day for blogging as that will get your hopes up and then I will let you all down yet again...because I know you all refresh my blog every Tuesday just for a new post. Admit it. It's what you do.

From my favorite blog, besides my own (I kid), Hyperbole and a Half.

I think I'm going to just stop apologizing for neglecting you guys. So this will be the last time.
Wait, I'll apologize now for not being consistent in the future.

Okay, now no more apologizing.

Finals. I only have two left. Score. Thank goodness for in class finals and essays. Hated doing them, but now they're over before finals week. And now I can take my sweet, sweet time taking my New Testament final and writing my anthropology essay.

I've been pretty bad at studying and writing essays though. A couple nights ago, I went to Nicol's house to study and we were planning on studying 6 pm - 12 am straight. Around 9 pm, we both got ADD and decided we wanted to watch a movie. So we called up Estelle and Jesse and we watched "He's Just Not That Into You." Ugh, Scarlett Johansson made me sick. (Christmas break UPDATE: just watched the Biography Channel's segment on Scarlett. I kept on gaining and losing and gaining respect for her again and again throughout the whole thing. Love the Biography Channel.)

Romantic comedies will be the death of me.

And Facebook. Facebook has been so entertaining lately. Thank you friends for posting awesome things.

I've tried occupying the library. There are literally no seats available. Every corner, every hallway, every elevator is inhabited by students and their books. 

But the Tanner building is completely empty. Seriously guys, study there. Or study with me. I watch movies and then pull all-nighters. It's fun.

Good luck, my friends, with your finals. If I can help you guys with anything, let me know. I am good company. And now I have a bike so I can come to you. (I'll get the brakes assembled and the tires pumped first...then I can come to you.)

Have a beautiful week, my friends. Work hard.