Kiera.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Graphic Conversations
She also compared her fetus to rice cooking in a rice cooker.
On a more PG note, one of the Spanish TAs is recounting the story of his first kiss with his wife.
I'm surprised that she married him at all.
Thank goodness for eternal progression.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Back on the Hunt
I snapped out of my post-graduation-planning lethargy today and applied for a job on a whim. I put on my black pencil skirt and best smile and handed over my fresh-off-the-printer resume.
Somehow, after sullenly despairing about it for months, I have find something that I will really like to do. For a year. In China. While being paid an expat salary (kind of). With housing allowance. And traveling subsidies. And medical insurance. And a moving budget. And free meals every day.
I will definitely trade my new creme brulee torch for this job (Sorry Chelsea).
Somehow, after sullenly despairing about it for months, I have find something that I will really like to do. For a year. In China. While being paid an expat salary (kind of). With housing allowance. And traveling subsidies. And medical insurance. And a moving budget. And free meals every day.
I will definitely trade my new creme brulee torch for this job (Sorry Chelsea).
Friday, January 21, 2011
Dear Provo
Dear Provo,
I think I've figured it out. You're schizophrenic.
In Katy Perry's words, "you're hot and you're cold; you're yes and you're no . . . "
It's ok. We're all confused about our identity at different points in our lives (exhibit A: me).
Can I recommend you a counselor? My cousin, Tiffany, is a fantastic social worker.
Maybe I can even pretend to get you a discount code.
love,
Sisi
I think I've figured it out. You're schizophrenic.
In Katy Perry's words, "you're hot and you're cold; you're yes and you're no . . . "
It's ok. We're all confused about our identity at different points in our lives (exhibit A: me).
Can I recommend you a counselor? My cousin, Tiffany, is a fantastic social worker.
Maybe I can even pretend to get you a discount code.
love,
Sisi
Friday, January 14, 2011
Line by Line, Heartbreak by Heartbreak
People tend to write about what they know best. And in the case of my Chinese 202 class, my fresh-off-the-mish students apparently know all about frustrated love and DTRs.
They turned in their first homework the other day, where they were asked to write sentences using certain grammar principles.
Some classics:
"I turned to her and asked, 'do you even love me?'"
"The reason why I like beef is because I just like beef."
"When I bumped into my girlfriend talking with a boy I didn't know, they made a face at me."
"It is very difficult to find a wife here at BYU."
"The reason why I don't leave the house is because I'm afraid somebody will hurt me."
"Together, we will make it to the Celestial Kingdom."
-----
Oh, the joys of being a TA.
They turned in their first homework the other day, where they were asked to write sentences using certain grammar principles.
Some classics:
"I turned to her and asked, 'do you even love me?'"
"The reason why I like beef is because I just like beef."
"When I bumped into my girlfriend talking with a boy I didn't know, they made a face at me."
"It is very difficult to find a wife here at BYU."
"The reason why I don't leave the house is because I'm afraid somebody will hurt me."
"Together, we will make it to the Celestial Kingdom."
-----
Oh, the joys of being a TA.
Labels:
Just for fun,
Quotes,
Too cool for school,
Work
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
A Wanderer
Tap. Tap. Tap. Five. Seven. Five.
I've never liked haikus. Perhaps all those seventh grade composition assignments just drained it out of me. But recently in my creative writing class, our professor asked us to keep a haiku journal. And so I did. And I fell in love.
With Basho.
The magic is you have to cover it up and read it slowly, savoring every last delicious imagery. Let it surprise you.
Here are a few of my favorites:
I've never liked haikus. Perhaps all those seventh grade composition assignments just drained it out of me. But recently in my creative writing class, our professor asked us to keep a haiku journal. And so I did. And I fell in love.
With Basho.
The magic is you have to cover it up and read it slowly, savoring every last delicious imagery. Let it surprise you.
Here are a few of my favorites:
Don't Imitate Me
Don't imitate me;
It's as boring
as the two halves of a melon.
I'm a Wanderer
I'm a wanderer
so let that be my name -
the first winter rain.
Ungraciously
Ungraciously, under
a great soldier's empty helmet,
a cricket sings.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
My Chinese Mother
Kanas River, Xinjiang.
I just read an article today titled "Why Chinese mothers are superior," which describes the main differences between Western and Chinese mothers' viewpoints on parenting.
While I do think my mom is superior (as every child does), she does not at all fit the Chinese-mother mold of being scheming, pushy, and demanding supervisors who will not accept anything less than perfection from their children in academics.
In fact, it is the opposite.
My mom has never helped me with homework before. She is definitely more interested in my dating life than in my GPA. She constantly builds up my self-confidence and heaven help you if you speak negatively about any of her children.
Case in point:
I started kindergarten when I was three. In my first year, I landed a key role holding a section of the scaly dragon body in the school play. Somehow, on the day of the play - without prior notice - the teachers switched me into a harmless blade of grass by taping suspicious green stuff on my forehead.
My mom was not amused. She talked to the teachers. Then she arranged for me to transfer to another kindergarten, because, as she explained to me afterward, my teachers simply did not recognize "my potential." She even had a Chinese proverb to back up her decision: "The dragon that swims in a little pond gets teased by the shrimps." That simply would not do. Her daughter was destined to be a dragon.
-----
Who knows, if I had stayed at that kindergarten, perhaps I could have launched an acting career specializing as prairie grass.
Friday, January 7, 2011
A Voicemail
I just left a voice mail for a random boy in my class telling him to come over for dinner tonight.
And to go to a concert with me.
All in the glorious name of "more bonding time".
Even finished it up with a "love ya!"
I thought I was talking to my brother.
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