Thoughts on a Thursday.

I have this uncanny knack to see people as human before anything else. Sometimes I meet people and wonder what their fears are, what they were like as a child, and how they were brought up. This is what makes them human. I don't wonder what they do for work, how much they've accomplished on paper, or how many awards they've gotten. I don't really care what type of cars you have, how much money you make, how artsy you are. I think everyone has a story. I wonder what they are like as a human.

Sometimes I can read straight through people, and I think they can sense it too. They meet me and they can tell that I can read straight through their facade of confidence and barriers and see who they truly are. They are scared that I can do this. What they don't know is that I won't judge them. People think that when they lay their vulnerabilities out there for people to see, they will be judged. Yet, that is probably the last thing on my mind when I meet someone. I see their beauty. I see their potential. I see the goodness that's always been inside them. The goodness that I believe all children are born with.

It's the goodness that allows a child to speak frankly. It's the goodness where jealously stems from. It's the goodness that tries to be validated. The fall of goodness however, is that it is easily trampled. The goodness that is inside us likes to retreat, likes to hide, because it is sensitive. Goodness that shines is a feat in itself.

I'm human too, I hide my goodness all the time. I hide it because I don't want to be hurt, and it's a huge huge mountain to get over, to let your goodness shine, yet when it does there's nothing that can trample it, there's nothing that can stop it.

The hush hems of her posture whisper.

They tell me that her dreams often swirl but never rise. They tell me that as she gets older her imagination will harden. I disagree. I sit on what would be considered the bed. It is made of stiff worn wood, with thin blankets, draped with a mosquito net and a hammock hanging in the corner. The sun peeks through the cracked crevices of the flailing walls. The paint chips beg for my attention except my mind is focused elsewhere. I tell her to sit next to me. She is a 13 year old girl who is about to be interviewed by me. I am considering her for a scholarship and I must assess whether she fits in our criteria. She stares at the familiar dirt floors rather than my outsider eyes. The loose threads of her shirt are suddenly worth noticing - my questions not so much. I see her eyes wander over my interview sheet, her eyes curious at my Viet - English scribbles.

 She tells me she will quit school. She's 13. She tells me she will quit school to take care of her two younger siblings. Silently her eyes tell me that she's falling apart inside. Her mom's dripping damp clothes and dirt crusted nails tell me so. She tells me she will quit school without it phasing her and I ask her, "How about you?" Perhaps her tears flood because they were never able to before. Her imagination hardens with each sacrifice.  I do not need to look in her eyes to know that she is falling apart inside.

Her mom with sun beaten skin is taken aback by her tears. She did not ask her daughter to drop out of school to work. Instead this 13 year old thought of it all by herself. Self sacrifice.

I once stepped into a hut that teetered on top of a river. It was built with barely space for the bed, a small kitchen, and you could not stand up straight in it. Mind you I am 4' 11" The mother of the young girl had passed away, and the father had amassed a large amount of debt, the same amount that I would of spent in a week on food in America. But the hut. The hut was seeped with memories. The little hut held together by fallen hopes and a father's love for his daughter.

Vietnam taught me how to be human. Vietnam and its people taught me how to live, taught me how to be giving, taught me how the world is so complex. These young girls who live in some of the poorest regions of Vietnam taught this college graduate how to feel and be compassionate. I am extremely humbled and privileged to have met the hundreds of young girls living in the Mekong Delta. Their resilience will live with me always. Their voices, their stories will always remain alive within me.

What will you do? How will you live? What do you choose to see? What do you choose to do? I ask myself this whenever I'm faced with the cemented air of suburb life. I'm sure all my life experiences is going to amass into one big celebration of some sorts,  but I can't wait for that. I have to be honest. I have to be myself because that is all I have, all I have is myself. All we have is ourselves.

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Changin' things up. Be creative!

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"Quiet as its kept"
Bluest Eye, Toni Morrison

This is one of the reasons why I am home.

I'm playing around with picasa and the look of photos on my blog. This is my grandpa. We found him gardening in the back of my aunts house - and no one knew he was there. He's a very loving and warm grandpa, always and constantly pushing us to be the best (ping pong champion included). He loves gardening so does my dad. I'm not sure if he knows how much we all love him. He's the driving force that kept the family together I feel like. He's the person that made the entire 7 children family hop on the greyhound from New York to here to be in California. There was sunshine all the time, how could he resist? Then my dad was waiting at that bus stop so low and behold I was born.*

*excuse my major grammatical errors.

Some inspiration and procrastination.

Oh how my worlds collide.

Photo shoot with my cousin @ HCMC Museum of Art

I shot these before I left Vietnam with my cousin My Hoang at Ho Chi Minh City's Museum of Fine Arts. It's a beautiful place and I had mucho fun doing it seeing that I've never done photo shoots really. Anyways enjoy.

Shot it with my Canon S90.

Useless pieces of information un-artistically written.

I think these type of posts are needed once and a while - I mean I don't sit around thinking about poetry, snap pictures of pretty sunsets and tap into my subconscious all the time (for the most part) - I'm shallow and American too. My friend Linh says she never reads these type of blog posts from me. Ha. Funny though my most popular blog post is a review I did of my favorite restaurant in Vietnam, cuc gach quan - which is now not really my favorite because hoards of people crowd it and there is no room anymore and service sucks.

The other day I was having a conversation with my friend Diane about ipods. She just told me about Apple's recall of ipod nano's - of which I was very excited about but at the same time saddened (I had grown a bit partial to my first generation nano. Plus, I like old things). There was a point in our conversation where I told her that I was going to have lots of ipods soon.

I'm going to have four ipod's now.
Lol, that makes sense, you love music.

I was a bit taken about this logic and at the same time I was like it does make sense. But the logic of this didn't even occur in my head at all what so ever - that I, a lover of music, would have lots of ipods. The reason why I have so much ipods is that I got one for free, I bought one while in college, and then my mom's friend just bought me an ipod touch. (Then I'm getting this new nano replacement deally soon). Interesting thought, useless story. Life.

I am anxiously awaiting for my new headphones that I bought purely on looks, color, price and the fact that they used the word "vintage."Modern headphone performance in a comfy vintage package. SOLD! I'm such a sucker. My old over the ear ones broke so I've been wanting this kind for a while:

I'm actually very loyal to these suckers for the last 6 years or so:

I love these headphones - they last about one year with frequent use, but damn they're light, sound great, and are good for people who have stupid ears where ear buds detest me and always fall out. Excited for the new ones though to get into the habit of listening to music again. Metric I love you, but I think I need new songs.

I've also been obsessed with make up lately, particularly dark spot correctors, acne treatments and perfume. Since dark spot correctors are really expensive I'm going to ask for samples at every department store that I go to, to stock up while I try out this product on some acne scars I have.

Alright mundane tmi materialistic tid bits of my life (Hi, America): done. I've been rather strangely satisfied by capitalism, almost "happy" when I do spend money, purchase things, find a bargain or look at products. I fear sometimes that I may be forgetting Vietnam. Forgetting what I learned there, forgetting what had happened to me but I know that I cannot. My experiences there have intrinsically changed me and I behave in a different way, subtly but very different. I don't take people's bullshit, I am much more at ease with life, and I enjoy the most simplest things ever, like driving on a freeway or listening to my cousins taunt each other through pop songs.

Sung to the tune of "Hey there Delia"
Hey there emily
Why are you so fat
you eat to much
you eat to muuuuuuuch.
Oh why are you so faaaaaaaaat.
OH why are you so fat, please lose weight.
OHHHHH...

It's also nice to finally be in one place, to just be at home and focusing (trying) on the job hunt. My skin is much clearer, and I'm drinking more water. Soon I will start jogging my 2 mile routine again and actively eat healthier, which I don't do unfortunately.

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Went grocery shopping with Dad and was delighted by Chinese people. I understand their culture! So cool. I think these things to myself sometimes.

For those of you that don't know, I am ethnically Chinese but my parents were born in Vietnam. This means I get the best of both cultures which I thoroughly enjoy. I understand both Mandarin and Vietnamese, too bad I don't understand Cantonese. I really want to.

In other news, I saw a car accident today right in front of my face. Those kinds of things always shock me and I gasped really loudly. Idiot decided to take a left turn in the right turn only lane and turned straight into a van on his left. I finally satisfied my craving for boba. Yum.

Weekends at home depress me.

And I feel it coming. When I am at home on a Friday or Saturday I get sad and anxious - hmmm, what should I do this weekend that doesn't require me to leave the house?

Decorate my walls + room.
Find my old tree paintings.
Find my art box in the garage (kill some spiders while I am at it)
Discover some music.
Organize my digital photos - put into best of categories.
Apply for jobs.
Sketch some stuff.
Write some stories.
Sew something.
Cook some good food - Fettucini, broccoli, and chicken?
Visit Michaels and 99 ranch.
Bake something.
Do some blog look updating.
Figure out twitter and make it look cool.