So Today

But getting is another. It’s been so long since I’ve written about anything, about the parties I’ve been to, the classes I’ve been taking, late night adventures and late starts on cold mornings, the brothers of the 401 and the brothers of Phi Delta Theta. You would think, with all these things that have been going on undocumented, I would have so much to say about…everything! But tonight, all I want to talk about is the weather.

The weather here in Cincinnati is sporadic. My friends back in California can say the same thing about Arcadia weather, that it may rain, hail and hit 90 degrees in the same day. But Cincinnati can go from hot days to blizzards to tornado warnings in the same amount of time. Sporadic is almost an understatement.

Similarly, life has been pretty up and down. There are moments like getting carried home wasted by the ones I trust with my life, or teaching the winter pledge class of Phi Delta Theta the values of brotherhood, or handing out pamphlets and dancing the night away in front of a shady art gallery with my best friends.

And then there are moments like when I pulled two all-nighters in a row to get B’s, when that job that I was so sure was mine suddenly has its position filled, when I poured my heart out on the pavement and it amounts to nothing because I’m forever a child in everyone’s eyes. Sometimes I can’t find the cheer that I vowed to share with those around me. Sometimes I feel regret,  frustration, disappointment. How do you cope with these feelings? I look to the weather.

I can gripe about heavy snow and blistering winds, but I should remember the times that I rejoice sunshine and cool breezes. In the mean time, I put on an extra layer and step into the cold.

I guess the best way to cope with the downs is to remember the ups, like remembering what the sun looks like on cloudless mornings and the ground without the salt. In times when I feel alone, I should remember the bold laughter. When I feel empty, I should remember the times we danced the cold away. When I feel overwhelmed, I should remember the taste of victory and achievement. Needing is one thing. Getting is another. I don’t want to be in a constant state of wanting and waiting, but in a perpetual state of chasing and reaching. Of course life has its rainfall and its blizzards, but these are just times that let us appreciate the sunshine and warm breeze.

Am I disappointed? Well, there arrrre some really cute girls XD Honor’s Retreat was extremely exciting, full of laughs and energy, brilliant and beautiful people. Tim the suitemate was on the retreat too, so it was a good way to get to know at least one of the 7 in this room. The food was pretty good, the retreat leaders were peppy and funny and honest, the college freshmen were friendly and hospitable, everyone was spiritful, and the girls… there are some pretty girls, in all honesty. This could be good =]

Honor’s Retreat is very much like going to Music Camp in AHS, except there is no orchestra playing, there’s enough room for ultimate frisbee, the handshaking is all up to you, and there is no over-serious bonding seminar that, and I know all of you Arcadia people think this too, is terribly awkward. Everybody is there to make friends, not cliques— there really is a feeling of maturity amongst everyone. When you are willing to open up to everyone, everyone is willing to do the same for you. It is impossible to go on about how amazing the retreat was, but believe me it was a lot of fun.

Meeting with the people in the same program was nice, though I’d met 5 of them at the retreat. Making good relationships with smart people: check.

In general, there is too much happening that can’t be put into words. It really is a “had to be there” experience. But this is what I missed in high school— meeting people before school actually started.  

The history of Turner being a very antisocial dorm… I can easily say we’ve broken that preconceived notion. People are coming in all the time, new faces with strong handshakes and great personalities constantly filling in the enormous common room. It’s almost like we are a common room for all of our friends, acquaintances, neighbors and strangers. And it hasn’t been a bad thing at all. This is definitely the best group of people I’ve met collectively.

When you party, people take good care of you. It’s reassuring to know that you’ll have someone with you watching for cars as you cross the street or making sure you don’t do anything stupid when you’re not wrapped so tight. I’m starting to feel like this is where I’m meant to be. And that is not at all any exaggeration. It’s interesting when one can find a great experience when they expect the mediocre or disappointing. College is good…

Seeing as I’ve been counting down for this day for a while, I think it would only be appropriate to dub today, starting from approximately 3AM, Day Zero. Day Zero is the day that my summer officially resigns and my college experience begins. I’m beginning this while I wait to board Flight DL 2154 departing at 6AM for Atlanta, Georgia, where I will have about an hour and a half to spend on getting to my second flight to Cincinnati, Ohio. If everything works out just fine, I’ll be moved in by the afternoon and attending a meeting for Honors Retreat students, meeting people who I will be seeing on campus in the years to come.

My flight to Atlanta was one of the most uncomfortable in the fact that I knew I had another one following it right after, I was extremely tired and I was seated next to this enormously buff Russian man with an intimidating tattoo of two men with mustaches wrestling on his left arm. His arm was deemed far more superior than mine, and therefore that frighteningly hairy appendage dominated the puny armrest between us. But I felt really sorry for him because he was such a tall person, his legs just wouldn’t fit in the space in front of him.  Then again, I felt sorry for myself, because whatever musculature didn’t fit in his own space spilled immediately over into mine. I was forced into the aisle to make room for this Russian giant, and every time I did manage to sleep, a cart or some ridiculously obese person would pass through and swipe my arm off the remaining armrest I was leaning on.

Just as a general rule, when you put suitcases into the overhead, instead of trying to shove it in when it clearly won’t fit, try storing the suitcase with the wheels facing out. Trust me, I fly a lot, it will fit. Don’t be a douchebag and just turn your suitcase sideways to take up two spaces. Ever parked your car sideways across two spaces? People hate you for that.

Georgia is interesting, as far as airports go. They really do have a southern accent here, and I think it’s great that even though I don’t step outside of the airport, I still get to see a little bit of the people of the places I transfer flights from. Once it was Washington, D.C., another time it was Pittsburgh, yet another time it was Albany, and again here in Atlanta, you can say I’m not really experiencing the different cultures if I’m just sitting here in the terminal. But I do get to watch the people here, even if it’s just for a little bit, and you do learn a little bit more by just sitting and watching.

The second flight from Atlanta to Cincinnati was uneventful, and therefore not worth talking about.

What was significant was all the fun I already had the second I got here. Scavenger hunt with the Honors people (the game itself wasn’t fun, but the people were), Ultimate Frisbee (I am terrible), meeting tons of people and moving into this baller room son, this is no joke, this room has so much damn space. Pictures to come later.

This is Bobby. Bobby is hilarious. Hello Bobby.

This is Tim. Tim is tall. Hello Tim.

Two down,

Since September 13th was my last day of summer in Arcadia, we decided to go watch a movie. By we, I mean my aunt Sherry and my sister Karen. On her way to the aunt’s house, the sis bought me a milk green tea with boba from Tapioca Express, which was very nice because it may very well be the last time I get any milk green tea, let alone boba, for a long while. I saved my drink for the movie.

Of course, since all of us are interested in human health, we decided to watch Contagion, which I must say was jam-packed with movie stars (the movie, not the theater. But there were a ton of people in the Edwards Cinema for a Tuesday afternoon). Overall, I think the movie was pretty good.

It might have seemed a little hastily thrown together in some parts, but it brought up some things that were worth thinking about. Contagion showed how the creation and distribution of a vaccine for an epidemic is not as easy as it seems, and we as the civilian population take it for granted how hard epidemic specialists work to keep us all healthy. It showed the sacrifice of people who work in health and showed us that even doctors can get sick. Mass fear does not help the cause, nor does it speed up the process of worldwide vaccination. I think it was a fine movie—it wasn’t the best, but it was honest. 

Oh and Gwyneth Paltrow is in it. Sigh.

For dinner, my grandma made chicken noodle soup. And it’s none of that stuff from a can—all of it comes from scratch. I have to say that this is the only chicken noodle soup I will eat because you really can tell there is a monumental difference between pre-made and home-made. There is a kind of custom my grandma has that involves this chicken noodle soup. Before she and my aunt moved here in February, whenever we went to Taiwan to visit them and stay at their place, or whenever we left after our stay, my grandma would prepare her chicken noodle soup, always from scratch. It’s become kind of a gesture of well-wishing. We call it “Ping An Ji Tang Mien”. In Chinese, the saying “Yi Lu Ping An” means “be safe on the road”, so “Ping An Ji Tang Mien” means “safe chicken noodle soup”. My grandma and aunt are great chefs, so I’ve been raised preferring home-cooked meals over anything else. It was nice to have that chicken noodle soup; it’s probably my favorite dish.

If you don’t have the opportunity to enjoy Ping An Ji Tang Mien, well, for all of you leaving home for college, don’t forget about family, they’ll always be waiting for the next time you see each other again. To all of you, I wish you the best of luck and wish for your safety. Yi Lu Ping An!

For all you Taiwanese, Chinese, Vietnamese, or culturally aware people, hope you had a good Zhongqiu Day. Traditionally, the Harvest Moon Festival is a day that occurs sometime in September or early October close to the autumnal equinox during which the moon is at its fullest and brightest. Even the flowers in my aunt’s yard are joining in the festivities.

On the list of customs that take place on Zhongqiu Day, the first is definitely to eat moon cakes, a variety of which are shown here, taken straight out of the box.

The ones in this particular box I got have red bean, or lotus, or pineapple, or chestnut. They are all fantastic, a moist very hearty outer pastry-like shell with a thick paste of one of the listed fillings on the inside. Eating one of these is like eating that weird bread that the elves in Lord of the Rings have— a single small bite will fill the belly of a grown man. Except for the fact that these are damn delicious and you would be missing out if you stopped at just one.

Aside from the delicious moon cakes, another custom of the Harvest Moon Festival is to get together with family. It’s not a listed tradition, but it’s a great excuse to get your family together and have a nice meal and laugh about the year and catch up on time spent away. And I’m very fortunate that this year’s Moon Festival came just before my big move to college because it was a great way to spend a special day, with family eating fresh home-cooked food, just having a good time squeezing around the table. And I think family is very much like a Moon Cake, and I’m not just trying to make a poorly formulated simile here. Like the filling of a Moon Cake, we’re tightly packed and very hearty, close and comforting. Maybe this did make more sense in my head, but I do feel a special closeness when I break not into bread, but into Moon Cakes, with family. And when I was driving home and  staring at the majestic full moon, I feel slightly reassured that no matter where I go, no matter how far from home I will be, I will be watching the same moon that my friends and family will see. Like the moon, family is consistent and trustworthy and reliable. It’s nice knowing that some things really will be the same.

The sis and I went hunting for the Kogi Truck for some late night snacks with some heft to them. Kogi happened to be parked in the Home Depot parking lot tonight, and seeings as I’ve never had food truck food, let alone Kogi Truck food, before, the sis decided it was about time I get a little introduction to some good meals on wheels. 

We pull up alongside the parking lot and to our disappointment we see nothing, but we decide to pull into the lot, it wouldn’t hurt to check. We spot a clump of people on the corner of the lot under a couple of the lights and we get closer and closer, and the line gets bigger and bigger and bigger and oh my lord this is the infamous Kogi Truck -cue choir, doves and celestial lights-.

And while we waited in line, I spot a Nick Lai look-alike and it turns out to be none other than the very funny very cute Nick Lazinoch Lai himself. Good laughs with this kid, we chatted for a little bit, and he left with his food and his homies. Nice to see him again, and I wish him the best of luck.

On to the Kogi. The sis got tacos with short rib, I got the burrito with spicy pork. Delicious. This is what street food is all about, very messy, crazy textures, bold and brave flavors, a nice kick behind the spice, a perfect blend of Korean and Mexican flavor. If there is no such thing as a Cincinnati food truck, I will be sad panda.

But there is such a beautiful culture revolving it and such innovation and an amazing following and fan-base and just goodness of food that only food truck foods can achieve. Props to Kogi Rojo, you made this an awesome night.

I have plenty of suitcases, plenty. I’d say I have enough suitcases to move my family if need be, but my dad insists that I will need storage crates because I’m going to college and of course that means I’ll need cardboard boxes to put stuff in. That is some of the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard. It makes the moving and packing process several hundred times more complicated and difficult. Now I have four boxes, taped and strapped together in pairs, and one bigger brown box, similarly taped shut. I think this is a terrible way to start the college experience, struggling with these boxes with no wheels or handholds. Fuckin’ Hell, that’s what this is going to be.

I hope this doesn’t turn out to be the perfect college metaphor— college is lugging 3 fifty pound boxes with no wheels or handholds across the United States.