mood: pleased
music: I’ve Got the World on a String – Michael Buble

Some people need crazy parties, expensive gifts, and lots of attention to feel like they had a great birthday. Not me! I had a fantastic birthday, and I didn’t even do much out of the ordinary.

Last night (as in the 12th, the night before my actual birthday), I went to Todai, an uber seafood buffet, with my parents and sister to commemorate the occasion. The food was great, but what was also really nice was that I had a great time. Seriously. My mom and sister and I had some great conversations on the long drive there, and then we all talked a lot about interesting topics over dinner. I even got to ramble about the Daily Cal for a while, which is always fun. And when I told my dad how I’d been selected to fill that single copy editor spot, he told me that he was really amazed and really proud of me. That was nice to hear.

When I got home, I went to the gym with Mark for a while. Then, he brought me to Cha for Tea and treated me to one of my favorite drinks ever! And tofu. Heh. Then, he drove me back to my house to give me my presents at midnight — only to realize that he’d left the gifts at home! I laughed so freaking hard. So we went back to his place, and he surprised me with three freaking bags of chocolates (white chocolate truffles and mini Toblerones!). And a totally badass talking Optimus Prime card. It was actually like the first real card he’d given me, haha. It’s about time! He of all people knows how much I love cards (lord knows if you totaled up all the words I’ve ever written in my cards to him you’d probably end up with a novella). In it, he wrote about how this time, he doesn’t have to write something to try to inspire me or remind me that he has faith in me; instead, he is just so proud of me. He says it a lot to me now, but it never gets old. I never stop feeling that swelling of pride for making someone I admire so much proud of me.

I got a bunch of midnight birthday wishes, then, which are always awesome. Some were awfully random, but they all made me happy. Anyway, so Mark dropped me off, and then I wrote a little reflection entry.

Then, I sat my ass down (not that I wasn’t sitting already, in all honesty) to watch Batman: Under the Red Hood. Which was fucking amazing, by the way. Like, I don’t even know how to express how awesome it was, except to say that it took me around three hours to watch the 75-minute movie because I kept going back and watching practically every scene like at least three times. The script was well-done (action, character development/exploration, and humor were skillfully balanced), the actors did a great job (Neil Patrick Harris, one of my favorite celebrities, voicing Nightwing was a real treat), the art and animation were superb, and the soundtrack was perfect. (Er, spoiler alert?) I love how easy but complicated it was to sympathize with Jason; his ideas made so much sense but you had to keep reminding yourself that murdering people is wrong and that the ends don’t justify the means. I absolutely loved seeing Bruce all emotionally affected by knowing that Jason was under that hood, and oh my god, that scene with them and the Joker at the end — I never wanted it to end, because all three characters were so dynamically different but so spot-on, and their interaction was so fucking intense that I swear I was holding my breath in time. And of course, I loved seeing Nightwing on-screen and squealed to myself a little after every one of his little perfect lines.

Bruce: Alfred, take him home.
Dick: Bruce, I can still help.
Bruce: You already have. Thank you. Go rest up.
Dick: Okay. But you know where to find me if you need me. He did just thank me, right?
Alfred: Indeed he did, sir.
Dick: Weird.

They did a really good job of making Bruce Bruce-like without making him a jerk. I loved Dick’s playful annoyance every time Bruce did something Bat-like, too. It was very clear that he was used to putting up with it. So fun. Batman and Nightwing were beautiful fighting together, too. They hardly said a word to each other but worked so fluidly as a team. That’s why I’ve always loved when Batman and Nightwing get to work together in the comics and in the cartoons. The only person I like Batman working with more is Superman, but the reason they work so well together is because they balance each other out so nicely. With Nightwing, it’s more about how well they complement each other. They read each other’s moves without verbal exchanges because they are so used to working with each other. I just always find it beautiful that even though Dick left the mantle of Robin behind, he will always be the Robin inside — Batman’s optimism, inspiration, and perfect combat partner. No matter what comes between the two guys, they will always make a very formidable fighting team. Also, I absolutely adored all the little details that the animators perfected. For example, the ways in which Batman, Nightwing, and the Red Hood’s fighting styles all differed despite going through the same training regimen. And I mean, this is coming from someone who is a total whore for Dick Grayson, but seriously? Nightwing’s acrobatics were absolutely breathtaking. Reading his comics, I always mourn that his fighting panels (and hell, even the scenes in which he jumps from building to building) aren’t animated — that acrobatic fighting style is meant to be animated. Another detail that made me super gleeful was the difference in the whooshy landing/flying sounds of the three Batguys. So fantastic. I bought the soundtrack right after the movie ended, and Mark is getting me the special-edition DVD for my birthday! Yaaaaaay.

ANYWAY. After the movie, I randomly decided to make a Dick Grayson wallpaper, which turned out pretty neat. Then I went to bed and worked on my latest Clark/Bruce story before going to sleep. Eight hours later, I woke up and made myself lunch, which I ate while watching Teen Titans. Then, I went to give Mark a ride to the pharmacy, and he treated me to Starbucks, woo! Then, Jess and I went to Jamba Juice, where we got the BOGO deal, yum. Afterward, we went to the bookstore and just chilled there for a long time. I grabbed a few trade paperbacks and read their first chapters to see what I should order (and I almost bought Blackest Night, which came out today, but the online price was way cheaper) and also picked up two more books to add to my ever-growing to-read book collection (Her Perfect Symmetry and The Book Thief). I’ve also been following the Fables comics, which I find really creative and awesome. Maybe I’ll subscribe to it?

I got a stomachache randomly while reading but tried my best to ignore it, since I had more food to collect! Went to Marie Callender’s with my mom and sister to get $5 off an entree plus a free slice of pie! I would’ve gone to Cold Stone afterward to grab my free ice cream, but my stomach really wasn’t feeling so great at the time. It’s mostly better now, at least. It’s a good thing, too, because I still have Maggiano’s and Benihana’s to collect. Also CVS, heh.

I didn’t really get to see my friends today, but I’m going to celebrate with them when more of them are in town. And so many people wished me a happy birthday. My phone decided to randomly delete half of their texts, but what’s important is that they remembered (or were reminded by Facebook, anyway) and went out of their way to wish me a happy birthday. It’s a small gesture, and it’s easy to scoff ones from random people I haven’t talked to in like months or even years as meaningless, but the truth is, just because they see my name on their Facebook birthday lists doesn’t mean that they have to do anything about it. So it really means a lot to me.

My day wasn’t crazy, and it wasn’t even perfect due to that annoying stomachache (which I must point out, only ever happens to me like once a year), but it was still wonderful! And hey, what matters the most is that I finished my teenage years totally happy, yeah? So here’s to the next decade! May it bring happiness, success, and PURE AWESOMENESS.

(Oh, and a job. That would be nice, too. )

mood: delighted
music: Stop and Stare – OneRepublic

I’m officially twenty now! Oh dayum. Nineteen scared me, but I’m pretty excited about twenty.

Since my birthday is like in the smackdab middle of the year, I usually see birthdays as like, a checkpoint for the resolutions I made for the new year. I’m proud to say that I’ve done a pretty good job so far!

I’ve cut back on the swearing, I’ve been exercising, I’ve written more than one story, I’ve been more accepting of being Asian, I’ve gotten shots, I’ve cut back on being frustrated about stuff by giving myself a time limit to be annoyed, I’ve been more open-minded about my family, I’ve been trying new foods, I’ve read three books outside of school, and I’ve been getting B’s and higher. And I’ve been working on the other stuff, too.

If I could sum up how I feel about the past twenty years in one word, it would have to be “proud.” I don’t care how arrogant it sounds; I am so damned proud of how far I’ve come in all these years. I haven’t been perfect, and there are a lot of things I could have done differently and better — but the person I am today is someone that I am proud to be. Someone who will constantly persevere through the hard times (no matter how difficult it is!) and continue to grow and to learn from her mistakes. Someone that I believe is worth your time.

I’m ditzy, I suck at math, I’m timid about my work, I laugh a little too much and talk a little too loudly, I’m a flake, I apologize too much and do too little, I have a ridiculous sleeping schedule, I’m too dependent on technology, I spend too much time on fandom, I’m too paranoid, I’m too picky — I could go on forever.

But despite all that, I keep striving to better myself. I see every day as a new opportunity to be better. I try to grow a little every day, for both myself and the people around me.

And in this crazy, chaotic, unpredictable world, that is what matters the most to me.

mood: contemplative
music: Let’s Call It Off – Drake

I just watched Up in the Air, and wow, it blew me away. George Clooney was amazing as usual, and the script and premise were just so good. I was charmed by all the characters and found a way to relate to each and every one of them. That’s art. And of course, it really got me thinking.

Natalie: Never?
Ryan: No.
Natalie: Ever?
Ryan: No.
Natalie: You never wanna get married?
Ryan: Nope.
Natalie: Never want kids?
Ryan: Not a chance.
Natalie: Ever?
Ryan: Never. Is that so bizarre?
Natalie: Yes. Yes, it is.
Ryan: I just don’t see the value in it. All right, sell it to me.
Natalie: What?
Ryan: Sell me marriage.
Natalie: Okay. How about love?
Ryan: [scoffs] Okay.
Natalie: Stability. Just somebody you can count on.
Ryan: How many stable marriages do you know?
Natalie: Somebody to talk to, someone to spend your life with.

The other day, I asked Di whether it would be better for me to get married or to raise a child, if I were to pick just one of the two evils. She said that I should raise a child, since I didn’t have to be married to be in a relationship with someone. And we talked about how if I remained single and childless for the rest of my life, then there would always be that kind of…gap between my friends and me.

When I told Mark about this, he found the idea that I was thinking about having kids just so I could have conversational topics with my friends very incredulous. But I don’t think it is. It’s like…that next step that everyone expects you to take. And yeah, part of me is just like… Well, I don’t want to take it, and I’m not going to let society dictate that lifestyle for me, so why bother? But then I think about staying like this essentially, while my friends go on to raise families and all that jazz, and I honestly do have to reconsider. It’s like how there’s always the conversational gap between my friends who didn’t dorm for college or didn’t go to college for a while and me. It’s not because I’m condescending them or anything — it’s just that there’s an entire other part of my life that they cannot understand. I can still talk to them about it, of course, but not in the same way that my friends who did leave home for college and I can trade stories and discuss similarities and differences. Yeah, there’s plenty of other things I can talk about. But it’s different. Because we will always lack that element of connection that accompanies similar living styles, similar environments, similar types of people we’re meeting.

So when I think about it that way, I feel that it is almost imperative to live that life with the marriage-doomed-to-fail and the really annoying kids.

Which is so weird to me.

I dunno. I used to say, “If I ever somehow ended up having kids, then…”

And now it’s shifted to “If I have kids, …”

I wonder if it’ll ever end up being “When I have kids,” like everyone seems to say.

Domestic life — seems comfortable and yet incredibly, incredibly confining. Hmm.

Welp. We’ll see. If I meet somebody that I can really see being worth the trouble, then all right. I’ll be game. If not, then that’s cool, too, I’ll stick with the original plan.

P.S. Last night, I got to make my first birthday wish of the year (my first wish of the year, I just realized… Oh dreamer Elaine, you truly are dead, aren’t you?), and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t even think of making it about someone I was romantically invested in. It was so refreshing.

I’m going to be twenty. I’m officially going to cast off the shadow of my relationship with Mark that haunted me for more of the time I was nineteen than not. But it’s a new world.

I’m so fucking ready.

mood: contemplative
music: Push (Acoustic) – Matchbox Twenty

I was talking to Amanda today when I realized — really realized — that I’m turning twenty in less than a fortnight.

Twenty.

The big 2-0.

Two freaking decades.

It blows my mind. Luckily, I’m not having another quarter-life crisis, as I did last year when my birthday came around. I think I’m past that now, and I accept my age, but that doesn’t mean I like growing up any more than I did when last year.

It sounds so cliche, but I’m really a kid at heart. C’mon, I honestly prefer cartoons to live-action television shows and movies. I still sleep with a different stuffed animal every night. I still get really excited over little things like a new book or a new episode or hell, a pack of Starbursts. I still love adventure stories with kid protagonists and video games that don’t involve gore or too many guns. Hell, I still can’t handle scary movies.

But there’s no escaping Time, and there’s nothing I can do other than continue to be grateful for everything this life’s given me.

This past year has been…hellish. A heartbreak unlike any other I have ever felt, a degenerated friendship that quickly became unbearable, a friend lost in the seas of our busy lives, and enough drama to make someone want to abandon their life and go live on an island in solitude (that is, an island with electricity and Wi-Fi, of course)… Yet it was wonderful, in its own way. A friend recently asked me how to be strong and make the right decision for themselves, even if it hurt unbearably. But there isn’t any “how.” You just do it. You just tell yourself, “Hey, self, this is getting kind of ridiculous. Let’s bounce and go somewhere we’re truly appreciated and treated well. I don’t need to put up with this crap.” When you fall, and you know you need to get up, you don’t wait around asking how. You do your best to get back on your own two feet. Because life’s too short to waste being stuck in some situation that makes you unhappy perpetually. So I stood up. Faced my demons. Said “fuck you” to anyone trying to hold me back or give me more pain.

And here I am today. Not just standing up by myself, but full-on dancing, leaping, twirling. Reading. Writing. Watching cartoons. Designing. Learning. Cooking. Joking. Laughing. Thinking. Trying new things. Bonding with old friends and new. Soaring free. Loving life.

Also, I think this is the longest I’ve gone without chasing after someone. I like it. I like it a lot. I like not being affected by what the person of my affections thinks of me. I like not wanting to be in a relationship with anyone. I like being single. I like not having to deal with anyone’s baggage. I like not having bend to any obligations. I like not having anybody thinking that they have the right to tell me what to do, where to go. I like not having to bend to anyone’s whim. I especially like not having to deal with anyone’s crazy parents!

It’s been a tough year. It’s been a great year. It’s been, well. It’s been what it always is. This is what I see in my life thus far: the tougher things get, the more I get out of it in the end.

So bring it on.

I know I lose myself, sometimes — hell, I’m only human — but let the good times roll, yeah?

“Expect nothing. Blame no one. Do something.”

On a completely unrelated note, I’m craving Cheeseboard, hardcore.

mood: thoughtful
music: Dynamite – Taio Cruz

Today is Father’s Day. I woke up to a household of people angry at me because I’d gone to bed late.

They were mad because I hadn’t woken up in the morning. But I’d told them to wake me up. But they didn’t want to disrupt my sleep. But they were still mad.

Why does my mother not understand that when I ask to be woken up at a certain hour, I want her to at least TRY to wake me up, no matter what time I went to sleep? If I were concerned about being tired, obviously I would just sleep more and not ask to be woken up!

But that’s not the point. After I showered, I went downstairs, where my parents were watching TV. I asked my mom why she didn’t wake me up, I fixed myself some cereal and milk, and then I told my dad “Happy Father’s Day.”

You know what he said?

“Huh?”

My mom had to remind him that today was Father’s Day. He still didn’t say anything.

My relationship with my father is difficult to put in words. I know I’ve made him proud in my life, even though that’s really only regarding how I’ve done in academics. (I think my mother is a lot more proud of the person that I am (or what she knows of her, anyway), which is actually kind of interesting.) I suppose it’s not like he really knows much else about me. Not sure if he doesn’t care or doesn’t have time to care or some combination of both. He was a really good dad when I was younger. I remember he really adored me when I was little. We used to read together all the time. My mom taught me how to read, my dad taught me how to write. I remember he taught me how to write in cursive when I was five years old. I thought I was the shit, haha. He used to teach me Chinese and Taiwanese children’s songs while my mom would teach me English ones.

They always said that I was going to turn out like him.

That used to just mean that I’d be studious, scholarly, hard-working, and successful. Now, I ponder the way that I can have hermit-ish tendencies like him, the way I get things done in a stubbornly honest manner and hate the unfairness of cheaters triumphing over me, the way I always want to help people who don’t necessarily deserve it (and who certainly would not do the same back), the way I sometimes prefer a good story more than company, the way I’m a perfectionist about my work. And I worry that I’ll also inherit his tendency to be aloof, his workaholicism, his insensitivity. Who knows?

Anyone who knows me knows that my dad isn’t home very often. A few weeks a year, maybe. And when he is home, he’s not exactly here. He keeps ridiculous hours, for no reason. (Another inherited tendency?) His job is one that could be the 9 to 5 kind, but instead he makes it more of a 10 a.m. to 2 a.m. one. The only reason I ever run into him during the weekday is because I keep some pretty bizarre hours myself. So what’s our relationship like? I don’t honestly know, because it’s so…miniscule. I love the guy, I do. He does a lot for us. I definitely have him to thank for this lifestyle that we’re fortunate enough to have.

But there’s always the other side to the coin there — because the question is, how much of how hard he works is to provide for his family, and how much of it is just because it’s all he knows how to do anymore?

I could talk about how he was absent for a lot of my childhood after he became a businessman. I could talk about how he never came to my concerts, never was here for my birthdays, never was around for emotional support or even just some meaningful conversation. Never was around for freaking anything. I could talk about how upset I felt whenever he came back from his constant business trips with expensive gifts and seemed so proud when we were delighted by them. I could talk about how those gifts were nothing compared to the gift that his presence in my life would have been.

But I’m too old for that now.

As you age, you realize how little a lot of things matter. Life is the wind that tears at the unblemished stone that is the young human spirit. After enough time, everyone starts to feel jaded. When you’re young, you believe in everything.

As you grow older, each one of your beliefs will slowly escape from your grasp. Disproven. Torn away.

For me, one of those beliefs is the one that making a fuss and being upset about my father’s absence in my life would actually make a difference in anything.

All I can do now is be proud that he is such a successful man and be grateful that because of him, I don’t have to take out loans, or do work-study, or deal with financial aid. All I can do now is thank him profusely and exaggerate my awe and glee when he brings gifts home. All I can do now is find it darling that he brings me ducks and currency of all kinds from all around the world to add to my rubber ducky and foreign money collections. All I can do now is imagine how he must tell his colleagues with pride that his oldest daughter goes to Berkeley.

My relationship with my father is not a strong one, or a rocky one, or a nonexistent one. It’s not filled with love, or loyalty, or disappointment, or bitterness, or anger. It’s colored more by some mix of resignation, gratefulness, and…well, acceptance.

I’m resigned that we’re never going to have that Daddy-Daughter relationship ever again. (Sometimes I tear up when we talk on the phone, because the distance between us is wide and gaping and irreparable, and way beyond physical distance.) I’m grateful for everything he has given us. I’ve accepted that even if he wasn’t the parent that I wanted him to be… Well, I didn’t turn out too badly, so I can’t really blame him for much, can I?

So. Happy Father’s Day, Dad. You’ve done a lot of things right in my life, a lot of things wrong, and a lot of things that can’t be put in such black-and-white categories. But despite all that, and despite the way that I think unconditional familial love is so illogical… Well. I can’t really put my finger on why, but I love you.

And I hope that’s enough. It’s just gonna have to be.