new age religion

the church at the corner is having a service to bless the animals. i imagine that old marmaduke will trot up the aisle as the humans sing a verse from all things bright and beautiful.

this is somewhat similar to the modern day apostles that some churches have appointed, or perhaps prayer marches - strange blips on the radar that hover at the border of doctrinal acceptability and beguile us into unmurmuring assent.

these might be good issues to pose to a disinterested man of the cloth. the answers will sift out the theologians from the empaths.

the torment of intimacy

i gingerly give the new hairdresser a try because my regular lady has upped and decamped to korea. i am called honey and subjected to some touchey feeley pawing, which makes me squirm secretly. at the end of the haircut, i squirm some more. i hope helen comes back soon.

my pet peeves:

1. cab drivers who attempt conversation.

2. hairdressers who attempt congeniality.

agony

there's chinese water torture, and there is the college application process.

the other side

to be fair, loving a whinebag is not easy either.
to love and speak kindly to a whinebag must be a test.

he has done his part.
i would follow to the ends of the earth.
if only the ends were not ithaca.

submission

to honor and to obey.
how difficult when every instinct would rebel.
to honor and to obey without whining is most difficult.

yet not my will, but thine be done.

journey to ithaca 2

ithaca calls at me. i am being inexorably sucked into a bottomless morass of tribal enthusiasm and cultural chauvinism.

i find myself asking, is it reprehensible to be happy with my lot and to be not curious about my beginnings? is it shallow to be satisfied with stories without yearning for the experience? is it immoral to be reprehensible and shallow?

at forty-four, i don't feel like professing heartiness for projects that do not thrill me.

halloween

our neighbor has built a graveyard on his front lawn, complete with tombstones. HOM is unable to believe his eyes. these people, he says, have obviously never met an oriental ghost, of the vindictive korean or thai variety, or the pontianak, or our regular hungry ghost.

back east, half-wits would not consider grave markers a kind of home accessory.

the meaning of cool

i turn up at school to volunteer at the vision test for the year.

J1 sees me in the corridor and accosts me in horror. what am i doing in school? it's so palpably not cool to have your mother where your buddies are.

J2 hears about my session and goes, ooooo can you be there tomorrow when i have my test? that would be so cool!

a time to embrace

today i think, what have i gained professionally in twenty odd years apart from strong opinions and a clutch of qualifications? my friends are the movers and shakers. i stay home and wonder if it is worth the effort to begin again in a new place at my age.

then i recount my gains:

my family, which trumps any professional achievement.

the privilege of quantity with the children, without which quality is a dream.

the great privilege of being able to inform my children's worldview.

the partnership, friendship, comfort, of my lover.

the exhilaration of frivolously, confidently, living, because i know this is non-accidental.

there is a time... my times will change. but i am grateful for these years of building and planting and uprooting and weeping and dancing and loving.

the art of the epistle

people of a certain age remember having to end their letters, yours faithfully, or less rigidly, yours sincerely.

these days emails end with, blessings. or, emmanuel. this seems to be a new, affirming, trend. i favor, regards, which i find un-maudlin and helpfully non-emotional. J1's coach is always energetically, go saxons! some people do not sign off at all, and lately, some have a final line, sent from my iphone.

's okay. st paul's closings are yards longer than emmanuel.

dinner tonight

the building cans of tonight's chili, in addition to the pack of ground meat. dump, then add sriracha sauce, garlic powder, black coffee. this is shaping up to be the most embarrasingly idiot proof of my collection of idiot-proof one-pot high-mileage meals.

ethical inefficiency

where we live seems to repel discounters, so today i make my semi-annual pilgrimage to the nearest walmart, which is like a day trip away.

but the rewards!

1. cheaper even without coupons.

2. i don't have to buy ten of everything.

3. there's (immigrant) eye contact.

4. and marginally sturdier bags.

you can say what you want about low pay and unpleasant working conditions and unfair competition, but i say, if they can sell at these prices it surely does some good too. it's hard to talk ethics when you are hungry.

i'm so glad

it looks like they finally ran out of rain. now perhaps we'll have fall again instead of winter.

stockpiling

tech stuff that we keep in bulk at home:

-batteries, all sizes, but they are pretty old-economy.

-printer ink, thanks as we all know to scrooge sized cartridges.

-norton anti-virus, to feed multiple sequentially expiring units.

norton makes plenty out of us, on account of a steady growth in the p.c./laptop population that has sneakily outstripped the number of live occupants at home.

bathroom shenanigans

on a rainy, near icy night, Dog ventures out to perform his ablutions.

at the end of the path he turns back to the first, largest, most water-logged, bush, burrows under the shower, lifts one leg, then lifts the other.

on a cold, wet night, an indecisive Dog is a dripping, smelly Dog.

american english

i go on a drive to timbuktu today and am reminded anew how beautiful this season is. for all its cold dreariness there is an ineffable, effortless aplomb to the newly changing colors that i know in time will become an festively audacious riot.

this part should never be called fall. it is unapologetically autumn.

martha stewart 2

mmmmm oishi... i contribute the pastry cutter, rolling pin, marble slab for working the pastry, a little sweat equity, and heartfelt appreciation.

martha stewart

me (in euphoric enthusiasm): shall i bake a cake for supper?
J1 (genuine surprise): you can bake?
J2 (superior tone): it's cake mix. (rolls eyes)
J1 (accusingly): it is?
me (with hauteur): a thankless child etc.,
which is wasted on them, because they only know romeo and juliet.

my tribute - andre crouch

the voices of a million angels

could not express my gratitude

all that i am and ever hope to be

i owe it all to thee

just let me live my life

let it be pleasing lord to thee

and if i gain any praise

let it go to calvary

with his blood he has saved me

with his pow'r he has raised me

to God be the glory

for the things he has done

the words, once just impressively poetic, have become personal over the years. as the choir sings it on sunday i will weave my life into the music i play for them. this song should be renamed, my offering.

whoooooo hoooooo

You have met all of the requirements for ECFMG certification.

step 1, step 2 ck, step 2 cs. yessssss. besides, i couldn't go through the agony of revisiting krebs and friends. thank God.

racism

i am chinese and therefore i'm:
1. comfortable with most overseas chinese, as dislocated as i am.
2. fascinated by the sophisticated intricacies of the language.
3. happy to parlay the asian exotica to my advantage.

although it's tough identifying with:
1. the encrusted weight of our confucian philosophy.
2. our modern overweening pragmatism.
3. and nonexistent privacy.

annual d&d

if you follow sgp news, it's time of the year for the annual psle* parents' song and dance about how unreasonable the exam was. every year, end november, these will happen:

1. clever kids weep after sitting certain papers, and

2. their parents indignantly write to the press.

my reflections:

1. the culprits are almost always math or science . never english. but it's the english that is cringeworthy!

2. haven't they heard about the curve?

3. five years on, they'll have forgotten the score. it's really not that big a deal.

4. the real deal is learning to move on when you are stumped - better learnt at the lower end of the food chain.

*primary school leaving exam.

a mother's prayer

but his mother treasured all these things in her heart.

a mother sees, and is amazed, and dreams, and remembers, in the quiet places of her heart, and hopes, like that mother long ago, that her children will grow in wisdom, and learn to live, and walk faithfully with their God.

brrrrrrrr

today's high is going to be 69 degrees, and that's the high for the week. it looks like i'll be nursing chilbains scales cracked lips fissured cuticles and red nose for the rest of the year.

at the back of my mind is this ominous thought - if this is fall and we haven't even adjusted the clocks and the trees haven't shed yet, what more am i going to be able to extract from my closet when winter pops by?

cold weather is unquestionably best appreciated on a postcard.

my song

amazing grace shall always be my song of praise

for it was grace that bought my liberty

i do not know just why he came to love me so

he looked beyond my fault and saw my need

...how marvelous that grace that caught my falling soul...
- dottie rambo

i am thankful that there was one day when grace met the brokennness and, unasked, paid the price for my peace. this is the song i want sung at my memorial service. it is the story of my life.

nobel peace prize

albert schweitzer

martin luther king jr

andrei sakharov

mother teresa

lech walesa

desmond tutu

arafat/rabin/peres

barack obama??

not to belittle anyone, but this guy first appears two years ago as presidential candidate and has yet to show much beyond rhetoric for his less than a year in office. perhaps we should rename it the nobel potential prize and allow the man to go on to an illustrious rest of his career.

stuff i want to have

1. a warmer for the bathing soap. brrrr.
2. a mute button for Dog, to use when he announces HOM's return from work.
3. a magic device that will de-static-ize me painlessly.
4. a vacuum cleaner that will work on animals.
5. a heating system for the toilet seat would help too.

little red dot

what we have is an uninformed beast held in thrall to fear. long before napoleon and squealer and co., there was jeroboam and his two calves, which pretty much summarizes it all.

the elements:

1. a bastardized creed. not jerusalem, but dan and bethel. not YHWH, but his new representatives. not demos, but aristos or pluto.

2. an over-arching fear of retribution. withdrawal of privilege. unholy scrutiny. loss of happiness.

3. a herd of well schooled peoplelettes who believe, all good, some better, study hard, don't rock the boat.

4. and some fringe elements who are idealistic, or courageous, or realistic, or cynical, or have given up.

dedication

to the little japanese cook.

last year, for thanksgiving dinner, we had an iron chef-esque face off between HOM and J2. today i discover the cranberry sauce from the meal at the back of our refrigerator. there are two colors on the sauce which are not native. fungus niger et ravum.

the essence of design

good: ipod touch.
poor: the berry. just a tad too. thick.

good: japanese temple.
fearsome: chinese temple. garish, dreadful ostentation.

so-so: arial.
worse: times new roman. familiarity etc.?

good: the old vw beetle.
forgettable: the new beetle. just a tad too. leetle.

almost okay: fishnet on dark skin.
pure sleaze: fishnet on fair skin. like an overfilled ice-cream cone.

good: the national cathedral.
ghastly: many modern slabs. the chinese temples of today.

my i.t. journey

1. the little black book. literally.
2. palm pda. 3 generations. mff*.
3. ipod touch. sleek, sexy, un-sssssyncable.

*most faithful friend, abandoned only after progressive failure of jacket, stylus contact, hotsync cable and loss of the other cable.

modernism

J2 is rewriting the three little pigs for creative writing into the three mousedeer. instead of pigs going out into the world the mousedeer are fostered by a benevolent tigress who tries to protect them from a forest fire for which she is unfairly blamed. she eventually perishes at her charges' paws/pads. like beowulf, remember?

all i say is, yikes. if you don't watch out, J2, you will become one of those writers i avoid for being incomprehensibly intellectual and existentially depressing.

pssst. she is rewriting the ending. the tigress narrowly avoids a contretemps; everybody has a round table discussion to improve communication. i still say, yikes. give me a full-blooded, escapist, moral-free, happily ever after fairy tale anytime.

psssst. coup de grace - the tigress turns vegetarian. ugh.

rituals

are important to HOM and me.

they gather many threads, spare us from lusty curiosity, coach actions that direct our thoughts, and free us to worship. ironic to think i remember when rituals were unwelcome intrusive presumptions!

and yet rituals are only as useful as they are understood, and i hope that the youth will in time be consciously grateful for the rituals that the older church tries to preserve.

christmas cantata 2

in the natural course of things, J2 declines to return to choir practice following her first, admittedly captive, attendance.

i return to alto, because, naturally, it's one thing to know the note or even to hear it in your head but to hit it is another matter altogether.

the two youth tenors, J1 and W, get to sing the tenor solos, which they do with great enthusiasm.

poooffff

the one time the moon is blue and i give a dinner party and plan a stress-free restaurant-based no-cook menu and the restaurant goes and closes for renovation.

decisioned

amazon.com, my favorite shopping destination.

click the order. sit back and relax. by middle age, the joys of physically shopping have worn thin.

decisions

should i buy a book online (it's out of stock in the store) using my borders gift card to pay for book and shipping, or get it from amazon for cheaper, with free shipping, using HOM's credit card?

or should i just read the many orphan books i already own and have not read or could reread?

or i could get a new read for a fraction from the thrift store, but it would be subject to the tastes of those who donate (mostly popular fiction in disgusting condition, from which i am experiencing a temporary withdrawal).

or i could get off my butt and go for a walk then come back to prepare dinner and get ready for the weekend. or go have a nap.

perhaps a nap.

mushy thoughts

HOM asks me to the in-his-honor company sponsored anniversary lunch, which is quite sweet because he generally doesn't mix business with family beyond the annual picnic. i end up the only piece of froth among nineteen suits.

lovely lunch, seeing as i will love most food that gets served to me. and he makes a touching speech that says one reason he's lasted twenty years is because i have sacrificed so much so uncomplainingly. very blush-inducing.

dolt, i want to say. it's not been a sacrifice. it's been my privileged journey.

eph 5:25a. i'm grateful.

journey to ithaca

the adult vacation trend is to make a pilgrimage to the ancestral village in china and fraternize with one's hitherto unknown kin.

the idea is admirable. what are we if we do not know the reticulated culture that begets us, if we do not preserve the personal humanity of our history? what legacy will we leave, if it starts two generations ago in the new country?

my response is painfully unadmirable. modern city girl who needs her amenities is not going to do well traipsing to the village with wooden houses well water chickens and dust. reserved modern city girl cringes at having to feel the love continuously at unwelcome decibels. sweepingly and totally unfairly, overseas chinese diaspora girl does not feel enthusiastic about the middle kingdom and its inhabitants.

this is uncaring and selfish. but try as i may i cannot feel much beyond instinctive revulsion when i look at people's family reunion photos. sigh.