Grow Up March 16, 2009

     So two Saturdays ago, I got a phone call from home with news that my already slim family has again lost more members. My uncle’s been working away from home in Dubai for a long time so my aunt and cousin decided to go visit him recently. The three of them got into a car accident as they were touring the UAE. My uncle and cousin died on the spot. My aunt was in a coma until the following Sunday night. Currently, she recognizes sensation in her fingers and toes but is immobile because her jaw and most of her left-side body is broken. She’s been moved yesterday to a hospital near home in Korea, but she’s asking to instead go home to England, in which she lived for a bit 15 years ago.

     Written out like that in one paragraph… I’m amazed at how dry it all sounds. There has been articles on it in several Korean newspapers – all just as dry – but even as I read titles like, “Korean Family Dies in UAE Car Crash,” I’m not feeling it. This is the kind of shit that happens in second class Korean drama series. My cousin was only 25. She was one of the few cousins I had who I could talk to without feeling awkward. I didn’t know how to respond when I first got the phone call. For some reason, I felt guilty and ashamed. Guilty for having neglected family and old friends lately under the excuse of being busy then ashamed for always having complained about how difficult college-life could be. Always whining, complaining, and asking for attention and comfort. Always just about me, me, me. I wasn’t even sure if I was sad, or regretful, or just pretending to be both so that I could feel sympathetic for myself. Sure, I cried. A dormmate found me and gave me a hug. Then I folded laundry, went to the mall with some friends, went to a dinner with some people from church, stood blankly in my room for a bit, then went over to a friend’s room and asked if he had anything short and funny to watch. All he had was an old episode of that 70’s show. I said it was fine and proceeded to watch and laugh whenever the laughing sound clip played.

     I got through the rest of the week the same way, keeping myself busy and bubbly but pausing every now and then so as to not be drained by my own optimism. Whenever I’m on the phone with my dad, I’m struggling to crack jokes and keep my voice chipper. I just feel like it’s not my part to be the depressed one. He’s probably taking it the hardest since my aunt’s been more like a mother to him than a sister. I could tell he’s lost his usual calm. He’s losing almost everyone around him; my mom and I are all he’s got left. It’s strange when you hear your dad admit that he is “sad and scared” for the first time. He’s asked me to stay in Ithaca during spring break while he’s in Korea helping to settle everything down – it’s at least one less thing for him to worry about. Another dormmate asked how I can seem so unaffected by what’s happened… unaffected… am I? Maybe I’ve gotten immune to feeling sad for other people now. Or maybe I’m just not hit by the reality of it yet. In part, I’m dreading this isolated week of spring break but in part, I’m relieved that I can just take this time to cocoon and organize my thoughts. Daniella has also suggested naps. I’ve taken my first one today (I never nap during the school year). It helped.

     I need to learn to write fun posts and not just downers like this. I will find something funny to write about. I promise… I think.

A confession maybe? January 18, 2009

   Coming back this winter made me realize how I’m starting to change in my time away from home, whether I want to or not.  I find myself  enjoying things that I’d frown upon while I was in McRoberts or growing out of some of my older fetishes.  I’m finding parts of my character that I want to fix, some for better and some for worse, yet I’m finding endless comfort in staying the way I used to be.  As I wait for the start of another semester, I’m split between trying to grow into something better suited to life at Cornell or holding on to what I’ve always been in Richmond.  Ideally, I’d want to do both but I’m finding it hard not to sacrifice a bit of one to achieve the other. 

   I’ve learned how to act chipper and give hugs out of mannerism but in the back of my mind, I know that I’m still so socially awkward and conscious of people seeing through the mask that doesn’t fit.  I could try justifying myself by saying that the loneliness that comes with living alone makes it inevitable to seek attention and embrace like this.  But then I’ll pause to look at myself and see that going out to places and attempting to  act like a social butterfly simply drains me.  I still cringe at artificial affection but seek and practice it more and more often.  Tracks by Akon and Rihanna are infitrating my playlists and taking over what used to be my digital shrine of Radiohead and Feist.  My goal to not drink until legal on campus fell apart last summer and I’m no longer excited by  good restaurants and coffee shops like before.  I keep asking myself, “Well, as long as I’m having a good time, it doesn’t matter… right?”  Long story put short: I’m starting to lose track of who I am and what even defines fun for me.  Half of me feels bored sick of the Audrey Chun that I’ve been for the past 20 years and wants to radically change into someone new.  Half of me feels ungrounded and ashamed of being so easily molded by my surroundings as if I were jello. 

Glop.

homebound, once again. August 5, 2008

thanks suzie for the reminder to post and the ideas, they were exactly what i needed.  so here i am, with one last summer night in ithaca and as much as it seemed like a drag at first, i’m pretty glad i chose to come. (although that still doesn’t change how i’m mad excited to be headed back tomorrow.)  

i think it helped to get my head straight coming here for a bit.  visiting korea’s great but i tend to suffer from a post-korea-effect whenever i go.  all those family dinners and the nice things that relatives say over the table start to weave their ways into my brain, eventually boosting my self-confidence level further than it should go.  the small amounts of “allowance” money collected and spent guiltlessly on shopping transform me temporarily from being the frugal audrey who used to fight mike for the least sip of tea in my thermos into a greedbag for shirts, lipglosses, and the other million pieces of shit that’ll eventually just end up rotting in the closet. finally, the late night outings to clubs, live bands, and karaokes shake my premed determination and makes me ask those questions like “wtf am i doing here… this… what do you call it… studying…? for what? why bother? when i can just enjoy my youth?” and so forth.  honestly, before coming here in june i literally broke down before my mom and said the words, “but mom, i feel like once i turn 25, i won’t be young enough to have fun anymore.” … oh lordy. 

but then i caged myself up in colossal mount ithaca and took intro physics (shudders) and worked in a lab full of women ranging in ages from 24 to mid-forties. i spent a lot of my spare time in the lab talking to them and i realized that we still have such a long way to go. here i was, complaining about not having anywhere to go out at night, while these women were dealing with things like what to do after grad/med school and 27K wedding budgets (eek..! definitely not getting married until i’m 30.)

it seems like whenever i choose to write, it just becomes a personal rant rather than a post. i envy those of you who manage to post with wit and wisdom on a regular basis. even when i don’t find time (or motivation) to write, i’m always reading and adoring all of your words so please, don’t stop.

fireworks nostalgia July 2, 2008

in the midst of an awkward thirty minute gap left until work, i realized that i hadn’t posted for… a while.  so here’s a break to my wordpress hiatus.  the summer here in ithaca has been slow… the class that i’m taking is autotutorial physics which involves a study center open daily from 9-12am, and me studying on my own and going in for help/unit testing.  i’m usually there in the mornings, then i grab lunch and head off to work.  i’m working in this biomedical lab up in our school’s vet college and it’s what usually puts the smiles into my otherwise boring life up here.  the professor i work for and the people i work with are pretty awesome.  i’ve been set up in particular with a postdoc called amy who is mainly responsible for teaching me how to do things and what to do when i do things wrong.  she’s an interesting one… her appearance and laugh reminds me of daniella but her speech reminds me of irene.  asides from her there are two lovely chinese ladies (i say ladies because they’re like… in their mid-thirties), a girl named patty who always bakes us cakes/cookies, a girl named alison who owns the most spectacular pair of hot pink jeans (the rest of her is just as delightful too… the pants just really won me over) and finally there’s a guy named ootsoov who is from qatar.

tonight is supposed to be the night when they have the july 4th fireworks downtown.  alison and i spent a while ranting about how… if a holiday’s name specifies a certain date, fireworks celebrating that day should NOT be on a different day, especially if it means moving it from a friday night to a wednesday night.  so far i am having little luck in finding someone who a) does not have work b) does not have class or c) does not give a shit.  i really miss fireworks and i am genuinely heartbroken that i’m missing the english bay ones this summer by being here…  as slim as my chances are as of now, wish me luck on the rest of my day’s search in finding a fireworks buddy.  much love to you all. 

Analyze me… please (since I can’t seem to do it myself) April 12, 2008

I went to church today.  Well, actually it was at night, so I went to church tonight.  During the beginning of the semester, EVERYONE tried to get me to go to church with them.  They would tell me that a lot of people go just to make friends even if they’re not that passionate about the religion but to me, that just seemed wrong.  What good would it be to go to sit through a sermon that I don’t believe in just to socialize with people afterwards?  Constantly, I refused and they all eventually gave up.  Lately though, especially after visiting my relatives in Toronto, I started to take on a different perspective.  I felt like experimenting.  Sometime before spring break, I discussed this with a friend from my writing seminar and he told me to call him up whenever I felt ready to try it out.  So today, I did.  And yeah… I had a good time to my own surprise. 

Because of my grandmother (my mom’s mom), I had always been more familiar with Buddhist traditions.  Through her, I learned to feel at ease inside a temple and love the bitter yet sweet fragrance of incense sticks.  On the other hand, my dad’s side of the family, especially Jessica’s parents, are hardcore Christians and I’ve always had a huge respect for their level of devotion.  I did even go to a church once when I was little but it was a really oppressive – near manic – one and the experience scared me enough to never attempt it again.  My dad used to go to church in university (quote: “mainly to find girls”) but he too didn’t like the atmosphere of it and soon stopped going/believing.  Nevertheless, my parents have always left the option open for me when it came to choosing a religion.  And all along, I chose not to choose.

I mean, I never thought thought of myself as being religionless.  With two options within my hands, I felt like I had access to and capacity for both religions yet I could never decide which one to really practice.  I always felt that believing in faith – in general – should be good enough.  I hated how people would tell me with a shade of confusion within their voices, “But… Audrey… you can’t do both.  You have to choose one.”  I told my aunt this when I visited her this March and she told me straight up that I wouldn’t have to sacrifice my Buddhist traditions to go to a church and that I should just try it out - even if it becomes a one time thing. 

I feared lots before going but it turned out that I had nothing to be afraid of at all.  Nobody was like, “After all those months of refusing… wtf are you doing here now?”  Rather, it felt more like this huge reunion with all of the people I used to hang out with early in the school year that I had drifted apart from during these past few months.  Plus, the church itself seemed really… chill?  The priest was young and the sermon was just like this little casual lecture/discussion. 

There is this one point of wonder though…  It’s that during odd parts of the sermon, even ones that weren’t supposed to be touching really, I started thinking of Jess and tears started welling up.  I stil can’t decide whether this was a fake act on my part or something real.  The friend who brought me along was taken aback and asked if and why I was crying.  I told him that I wasn’t too sure.  I mean, I really don’t think I’m convinced by the religion at all.  I didn’t even pray with the other people in the end.  I just… didn’t want to… (or maybe couldn’t)?  Plus I was scared that I’d randomly break out into sobs the moment I closed my eyes.  I wasn’t ready for that so I just kept my eyes open and kept blinking the red out of my eyes and nose instead. 

That said, I think I might go again next week.  And maybe I’ll start making some more sense to myself.  Maybe some of you guys can see some clarity in this mess of a post…

New Experiences March 22, 2008

  I was wondering how I’d manage to fit my entire Toronto trip into one post then I read Suzie’s post and I couldn’t have put it better myself.  So I’ll jump straight into the rest of my trip. 

  After parting with Suzie, I met up with my uncle, my aunt, and my cousins Jessica and Naomi.  Later, we all met up with my dad (he managed to arrange a business trip to Toronto to match my schedule) and my cousin Will (the one I’d never really gotten to know and whose father died in December).  We all went out to a Korean restaurant for dinner and it was nice.  Not great.  Slightly awkward.  Yet cozy. 

  The next day, I took Naomi out for shopping downtown.  I was surprised when she told me that she had never been on a subway before.  Her parents have always been busy caring for Jessica that they never had time to take her out.  I also spoke with my aunt about Jessica and found out that she wasn’t just a quadreplegic but an epileptic.  I still don’t really get the difference.  Actually, even the doctors aren’t quite sure of what disability she has because they’re constantly being proven wrong by it.  In some ways this is a good thing.  If they knew exactly what was wrong, chances are, it’d just make it certain that her disability was incurable.  But not knowing the exact cause leaves room for the possibility of her getting better.  For example, they said that if she couldn’t sit up on her own by the age of 3, she never would.  She did at the age of 10. 

  I took the bus back down to Ithaca on Wednesday night.  The real grand finale of my trip I think was my 7 hour layover at the Rochester NY Bus Station.  From 12:30am to 7:45am, I spent the night huddled on a metal bench with my backpack and dufflebag watching the place morph into different worlds by the hour.  When I first got there, it was simply empty.  Perfect for reading.  Then around 2am came some action.  A mother and daughter came in and suddenly started yelling and swearing at each other.  The mother takes the daugher’s suitcase and starts pulling out her clothes and throwing them on the ground screaming, “Bitch this isn’t yours! This is mine!” To which her daughter screams, “What the fuck! Stop! It’s mine!” Bras and thongs start coming out of the suitcase and the daughter starts crying violently saying, “I can’t believe you’re fucking doing this in a fucking greyhound bus station! What the fuck! Go fuck yourself!”  The daughter storms into the washroom as she rants to someone on her cellphone and the mother mumbles distractedly to herself for a bit then leaves the station (she seemed like some sort of addict).  After a while the daughter came back out and started cleaning up after the mess as she continued to talk on her cell.  I couldn’t not eavesdrop in this situation so as I was pretending to read, I found out through her conversation that this kind of thing happened frequently to her and that she was headed to Cleveland on her own to get away from the mother.  It was like something you’d see in ”8-mile”… except real.

  Things fell silent again and I finished my book at around 3am.  That’s about when the homeless started filing in.  None of them were troublesome since they all knew it’d only get them kicked out into the lethal cold weather.  Occasionally they’d ask for some spare change or a cigarette.  They’d mumble to themselves or break out sobbing in their sleep at random moments but with time I got used to it.  One of them suddenly woke up to tell me that “the governor” was going to visit the bus station at 1pm.  I didn’t know what to say so I simply nodded and smiled.  The response satisfied him (I think?) and he went back to sleep. 

  By 4am I found myself surrounded by about 4-5 of them and being able to comfortably write up a Bio prelab at the same time.  By 6am, a couple travelers from other buses started coming into the station and the station supervisor-ish man made a PA announcement along the lines of, “Wake up fellas, those of you without tickets know what to do”, and the homeless quietly took their things and left.  By daybreak (around 7am), everything went back to normal and the station became crowded with people who may never in their lives find out what this seemingly dull bus station was like before they came in. 

  I was back at Cornell at around 10am Thursday.  Took a shower and slept until 6pm, ordered some Chinese food, then slept for another 12 hours.  I’m glad this trip happened.  It was the ultimate succession of “first”s that I needed to break the monotony of what was my January and February. 

mini perks February 13, 2008

so after ranting about utter lifelessness in my previous post, i figured it’d be worthwhile to list some bits of life that i’ve managed to find afterwards:

1) in contrast to the depressing saturday i spent when i posted “ella ella ey ey”, i went out at night on the next saturday and had a pretty good time. bunch of us went to the mall, then came back to someone’s place to play playstation2 karaoke and watch “once”. it was odd that i was the only asian there. two of em were black and one’s from ecuador but man… it was one of the best karaoke nights i’ve ever encountered. “once” was a cute movie but i slept through parts of it.

2) the espresso guy i posted about in september sent me a text msg the other day. apparantly his friend googled his name and our blog showed up as the second search hit. he didn’t seem creeped but rather…. chill.. flattered perhaps? hopefully. iuno. after a couple more msgs it turned out that he’s away for the semester. so yes, i’m “on” for espresso again if he makes it back here in the fall but until then, i guess it’s a question mark. all in all, it was pretty exciting.

 3) meghan’s owl toque is a hit here. i’ve been stopped countlessly by people on the streets telling me “…. i love your hat… it’s an… OWL!” (yea they say hat here, not toque) so far i’ve made two people laugh heartily, one person “smile in awe”, and two people’s days just by wearing the hat. gracias meghan. i love it.

4) i’m going to be volunteering this weekend for this east coast asian american conference. it goes around the country and cornell hosts it every 10 years. i didn’t know about it until after the deadline but i signed up for it anyways… there seems to be a lot of interesting speakers coming so i’m hoping to catch a glimpse for free. among them is the korean guy who won survivor (name was yul i think?) so yea… haha hopefully i’ll run into him and have a story for my survivor-fan parents, or at least my yul-fan mother. (ok ok… i’m a yul fan too.)

 so there it is… a relatively eventful week that i might not come across for another long while. asides from that, it’s snowing here. no more news.

ella, ella, ey, ey, ey… February 3, 2008

  I’ve finally hit two weeks of being back in Cornell and everything seems to be back in place… kind of… well not really.  It’s strange.  I’m more comfortable physically and timewise.  I’ve adapted to a routine.  But my mind’s elsewhere and I feel unmotivated.  Last semester was hard but nevertheless motivating and I was too busy to be unhappy.  Lately, I’m just not in the mood to do anything.

  I should be feeling better about myself and I know this.  My chemistry class is a bitch but my writing seminar’s a phenomenal one based on graphic novels.  I am going to the gym regularly now and I even signed up for a weekly swing dance class.   I have more people that I know… and and and… a lot more but really NONE of this seems to mean anything.

  For some reason, I keep asking myself what I’m doing here.  I feel like I chose to run a hard track for no reason.  I keep missing richmond.  I miss having a home to come back to and whine about how shitty my day’s been.  I miss being out with you guys and really not do much yet still have fun.  I keep thinking of watching korean drams with my parents.  I keep thinking of singing Rihanna with the tea collective.  I keep trying to do work but I just end up tearing up in the eyes and going off to waste time on youtube instead.

  It’s worse because it’s not just me who’s having a hard time.  People around me are starting to break down and I shake my head at them now but I really don’t know when I’ll become one of them.  I feel like I need a distraction.  I need a new hobby or a new man or just… anything… anyone to smarten me back up again.

Why am I so akward? December 4, 2007

So on Sunday afternoon I get an email from my cousin sister in Toronto that one of our uncles has passed away. I’m still worried about what you guys will think about me spilling out junk about family crap like this… but I think – hope, know, wtv – that you’re the only ones right now to whom I can show the bones in my closet (and PLEASE suggest a line I can use to replace that cliche).

Anyways. Background info on my dad’s side of the family is as follows:

My dad has 3 brothers and a sister. They are somewhat kind of close… not really. His oldest brother died 10 years ago but has a son (Paul) who’s like 20 something and lives either in North/East/West Van. I meet him at family dinners but we never talk. He gave me his email address before I left home but I never emailed him because it just felt so akward.

His second brother in Toronto (the one who died) got divorced so his two sons (Will and Brian) live with his ex-wife. Hence, I’ve never talked to them either. I’ve had one of them on my msn list for years now, but again, it felt too akward talking to each other so we just didn’t.

His third brother in Toronto has two daughters. One (Jess) is a year older than me but she’s a quadreplegic and the the younger one (Naomi), I found out only recently is in grade 9. I’m sorry for her because she’s the baby in our family and deserves to be spoiled by all of us older cousins… but she isn’t. She’s growing up so nicely though… she’s the one who told me the news about my uncle and I try talk to her every now and then but it still feels akward talking to her too.

Last night I get a message from Will (for the first time.. well… ever) asking if I’m gonna be up in Toronto for the funeral. I can’t. Then he starts talking about how his dad’s death is hitting him and he really wants to get to know all of us better. He asked me about Paul, Jess, and Naomi and I realized that I knew jackshit about them. It’s not like our parents never wanted us to get to know each other… it was like a mix of our own fears and laziness that we just never stood up to break the akwardness. I gave him Paul’s email to talk together… since Paul went through what he did 10 years ago already. Will and I promised to keep in touch and meet up sometime. I got up the guts to send Paul an email for once. And you guessed it, the email was mega akward.

I feel sick. Like I’m taking advantage of my uncle’s death to rediscover my cousins. Why does it have to be this way? Why am I finding this all so hard? I’m their cousin for fuck’s sake and I’m scared of them. I’m worried that the conversation with Will is gonna be a one time thing. I’m scared that Paul’s gonna let me down by not replying to my email. I’m sad that Naomi’s not getting all the attention from us that she deserves. I’m frustrated that there’s nothing I can do to help Jess in any way shape or form. And I’m pissed that I still have no idea who the hell Brian is.

Yet I’m glad. And excited. That finally, after 18 years of this static ignorance towards my dad’s side of the family… it feels like something is starting to unravel. I just don’t know whether it’s for better or for worse. Plus I’m confused why I’m not as sad as I should be about my uncle’s death. I barely knew him but he was a cool guy. It’s just that my excitedness over finding other Chuns is way stronger… could this be what he wanted? Or am I just trying to make myself feel better… I don’t know. I should really be studying for finals… hah. Yeah… right.

Yuck.

scribbles (it’s about time) November 25, 2007

to all, i’m sorry i haven’t posted on this thing for so long. i’ve been reading the entries nightly but whenever i opened up the window to post or comment, i couldn’t find the right things to write about nor the right ways to word it. in the end, i’d always just tire out and press “logout”.

for the past few weeks before thanksgiving break, it has been hell. yet i loved every minute of it. i’ve been struggling miserably in everything i do lately but… there’s also this strange lack of boredom that makes it all feel worth the effort. i have no idea what it is… i don’t want to call it masochism because it just… isn’t. is it?

i can’t think of a smooth transition so i’ll just jump ahead. the other day, i found a friend from when i was in san francisco for grade 3. i unexpectedly got in touch with some friends from back then (i don’t even know how i did so without a facebook) who told me about her so we met up. we weren’t that great of friends but it still felt amazing rediscovering a friend from 10 years ago like that. i wonder if that’ll be the way for mcroberts people 10 years later? could i run into someone from the foyer group or smoke pit and be just as glad to see them again? it’s a scary thought at the moment… but this event just made me think that i’ll just never know until it happens.

yesterday i bused to NYC with a friend. (again, no transition, sorry.) we took the 4am bus and got there at 10am. after brunch, we spent 6 hours at MoMA. it was breathtaking. it was more modern art than i could digest and the entire time i was looking around, i kept saying “my friends from back home would love this place” over and over again. seurat, picasso, calder, van gogh, warhol,… it just felt so wrong because i was the one kid in lunch group who WASN’T in art. i felt incomplete being without all of you seeing all of the stuff i learned and gained interest in through you guys. then after lunch at 4pm we tackled NYC black friday shopping. it surely lived up to its hectic reputation. had dinner. took the 11pm bus back. got home at 4am. and today all i did was sleep, order chinese (damn… i miss richmond chinese food), and post.

i’m getting exponentially homesick and i’m counting days until dec 15th. i’m doing fine here but I just i can’t help but to yearn for home, my parents and all of you. i’ve had a couple occasions when i’d just start crying silently for no reason with nothing specific to trigger it. the loneliness and longing for home just comes at random times at random places (in my room, in the shower, on the bus) and i just wish i had a way of controlling them. oftentimes i won’t even be that sad. it just comes. luckily it doesn’t happen too much in public. one of the things that keep me smiling is this site though. the posts and videos you guys put up have made me laugh out loud in my room (possibly worrying my suitemates) and remember that it’s all good. i love you all to bits. i think daniella put it best in one of her emails by saying that her organs want to self donate whenever she thinks of us… or something along those lines. my memory fails me.