When to Call It Quits?

I'm thinking of retiring or seriously revamping this blog. Not because of the lack of things to write about. I have plenty of that. Rather, I'm thinking about quitting because I'm looking back on my last several months of posts and realizing that I'm doing none of my subjects justice. I think up a lot of topics while I'm driving to and from class (1.5 hours each way) or when I'm in meetings (hours and hours of my life GONE!) The thoughts are usually quite elegant and well formed; sometimes even profound, but these thoughts invariably end up being truncated into something short and trite that only my most loyal bloggy friends would care to peruse. (Thanks for that loyal bloggy friends, and new ones, hi So Yun and H. in Portland! H, what a small internet world that you know my real life buddy Wayland and I had no idea you even existed till he said his friend H. in Portland reads my blog religiously even though HE didn't know I had a blog and only found out that I did because he had mentioned to you that he was heading over to see his buddy J who happens to be married with two little ones called Evie and JT. Small small world, I never even knew you were a reader until he told me about you. Thanks for reading! Where was I??) Never mind balancing full time work, school, kids and marriage; what about my parents? Siblings? Cousins? Friends?

In the past few months, we've done a number of things I haven't had time to really write about. We've been to our good friends' wedding where J was the officiant (he was sworn in, over the phone for one day only as associate deputy of marriages of Alameda County or something like that) and Evie was a flower girl who had her two boy friends from babyhood fighting over her at the reception. We've hosted a few dinner parties where we had a crab and pho feast. (I only cook when there's a lot to be cooked.) Signed Evie up for hip hop classes (she starts in May) because she loved the JabbaWockeez but didn't think that girls could dance like that till I showed her Kaba Modern. Worried and worried about my poor sweet JT who has zero friends his age and who spends his days playing by himself or with great grandma. Celebrated the start of baseball season by heading to two games with two different sets of friends and because we just haven't seen them in months. Worried and worried about my good friend who only retired a few years ago but found out a little over a year ago that he has a debilitating disease. Realized that all I can do is enjoy our time together and our team (Go A's!) didn't win that day but we still shared resigned sighs and spurious hope of "maybe next time" (BOO Red Sox!) and he could still smile and make my little boy laugh even though he can't speak much anymore. (He doesn't read anymore I don't think, but my blog used to have a black background with white text. I changed my design for this particular friend.)

I have so much to write about but I have a lot to worry about too. Blogging has been bumped down the list of activities that I want to maintain. But then, this blog is my main journal for where I keep some things I want to remember and not only that, there are so so many people whom I've learned to care about in this blogosphere that I'm not sure I really want to completely let this go. How else would we keep in touch? I feel so bad for not commenting or having the chance to catch up on your blogs (you know who you are).

I wish so many of you were nearby so that we could just hang out. Some of you ARE nearby and I've had the opportunity to meet some of you. I'm so thankful for the new friendships that I've made from this little blog. I'm also thankful for this little outlet where I've occasionally felt free enough to let out some very personal matters. SO...what to do? What to do...?

Just a Dream

Lien (yelling to J from the bedroom to the office): You know what? Next year I'm going to learn how to sew and just make everyone gifts.
J (yelling back in a bemused sort of way): Oh yeah? And when are you going to find the time to do this?
Lien (in depressed realization mode): In my dreams?
J (because he thought so): yeah

***

A girl can dream that she can do cool things can't she? Hell, I dreamt I could write a blog post every single day for a month. I almost did it! I didn't do it, but damn if I didn't try. I dunno, sleep and time with my kids seemed so much more valuable. This month not only did I write a blog post every day (almost) I also took my kids to museums, movies, the park, birthday parties, out to dinner, to bookstores (down the street up, up the hill, and through the woods...) AND I managed to get the vast majority of my work done and still managed to make it to class (most of the time) with A's and B+'s for most of my papers. I think I did pretty good with NaBloPoMo all things considering. Of course, Yoda is admonishing me in my brain, "No, try not, do or do not...there is no try." Ahh! Shut up Yoda! You're making me too nerdy.

Proof of Life

As a human being, there's a physical proof that my mind sometimes needs. I have to touch something before it makes any sense to me that this thing had a life of its own outside of what I see on my monitor. Sometimes when I read blogs, it doesn't always feel real. I know, mentally, that people who read my blog and vice versa are real, but it's all so...virtual. Despite all my history with the internet and despite all our technological and particularly telecommunications progress, I still need to touch and/or see something in front of me to make my brain believe it truly exists.

So this weekend, I got my proof of Daddy In A Strange Land and his lovely ladies La Dra and Pumpkin; the Super Has, Twizzle and Honeybee, ThisIsLarry and family, and Susan behind ReadingWritingLiving. I still had a headache, muscle aches, and sore throat but the drugs were working (for the most part) and no way I was going to miss out on getting out of the house. (I don't do sick in bed very well. My kids don't let me anyway. It's either get up and go or get jumped on.) Somehow, I got over my aversion of meeting new people. There were quite a few moments where I didn't know if I should go (not least because I didn't want to get anyone else sick and I wasn't sure if the Sweet Pea would be able to handle yet another trip out considering the week of flu he's had). But I'm happy to report that I did end up going, we all felt...ok, and that yes, they're all real and they were all just as nice as I thought they'd be.

The kids seemed to get along well. Although Sweet Pea was rather cranky from being sick this past week I think he did end up enjoying himself. Evie made fast friends with Larry's daughter (who kept asking if Evie could come over for a playdate. Unfortunately the Bay Area is a big place and while we live on the East side, they live in the South.) Evie got over being shy as soon as Larry and Co. arrived. It was cute to see them having so much fun. All the little girls including Ashley and the Pumpkin played a bit of ring around the rosies while the Sweet Pea hunted pigeons (or "quack quack" as he called them). Honeybee was incredibly cute in person. The adults all got along and it was a beautiful day in the city by the bay. I'm glad I went, it was...I have no other word right now, nice. =)

I'll probably post more pics later, but here's Sweet Pea chasing after DISL's Pumpkin chasing after Ben Ha with DISL himself taking a picture. Superha has a much better picture (I swear I wasn't trying to hide behind Sweet Pea).

Blogging Bloggers!

My husband and I just had a short discussion about blogging. He being the clueless insensitive unsentimental stoic guy that he is, generally considers blogging to be too much of an emotional exercise to risk his manhood on. I've always encouraged him to write more about how he feels about things but he always counters that the posts would be extremely short as he doesn't think too deeply about issues beyond his control. He definitely feels that if he were to write more it would be an endless series of rants. (Which I don't have any problems with, it's good to have an outlet I say.)

Anyway, it came as a bit of a surprise for him that I don't necessarily consider myself a blogger. Or rather, I think I have a different definition. (Yeah, 9 months of writing a blog generally = blogger right?...Well, not to me.) No offense dear readers, but I don't write for you. This online journal, or blog, is written about me, with topics for me, by me, at this moment. It's easier to write to an audience and so I do. Think "Dear Diary" or "Dear Kitty". Yes, I do censor myself a bit simply because, well it is the internet and who knows who'll drop by on occasion; but let's be honest here. I see my stats, I know who visits and I read your entries too. There aren't that many strangers who pass by and since they're generally looking for some sick porn, I doubt my writings titillate them much, and true to my predictions, they don't generally stay long.

For me, blogging implies writing about topics which are bigger than oneself such as politics or social causes or parenting with the goal of acquiring more readership or changing perceptions. I'm just writing about little ol' me to keep in the practice of writing (it has really helped writing term papers easier, let me tell you), keeping a record of me for my kids if they're ever interested, and just for the hell of it because I enjoy writing on a whim. I'm not sure I care or want very many readers. I'm glad I have a great bunch who come and leave flattering, ego boosting, lovely messages. (You guys are awesome!) I'm even more glad that the number is small and I can visit your blogs in return and get to know some of you. I like really knowing who's reading. =)

Is this really blogging? Is this really what all the news outlets are talking about in terms of that big unknown that could change the nature of the internet and political landscape? I don't know. This seems so much more intimate and personal. It just seems so small and who am I really to the rest of the world and to do all that the headlines scream? I can only change me and my little world. That's all and it's good enough, but is it what people really think is blogging?

Dearest Doss: Rewrite!

This is a rewrite of an earlier post that I've since taken down. The old post was just...well, not well written (not that this one is much better) and didn't really do much justice to either Doss, Rob, or my thoughts at the time. The points I was trying to make were simply this: 1) I'm honored and happy my words were included in Rob's eulogy for Doss. 2) I'm amazed at this blogging thing. I'm amazed at the empathy I can feel for total strangers. 3) Despite all the shit; life is worth living, especially if you make it so. I don't think I got all that in my post...but I've been playing IT engineer and project manager a lot lately. More lighthearted posts tomorrow maybe...

Rob Barron over at How About Two quoted my email to him in his eulogy for his son Doss; an act for which I am deeply honored. Rob had been expecting twins and had been blogging during the pregnancy which I had been reading about for months. In my original email to Rob, I wrote, "Birth and parenting has become so routine to all of us, we were SO sure that he would make it. It breaks our hearts too that we were wrong but it makes us appreciate a little more the miracles that we have in front of us." My heart still breaks for Rob and his family. I really was pulling for the little guy and I was checking Rob’s blog everyday for updates. Each day I checked, my Sweet Pea would come and give me hugs and (if I was extremely lucky) a few kisses. Always he would give me these brilliant dimply smiles. I dreamt of my baby boy before he was born, I saw him in my mind because we had planned and hoped for him before we even knew we were going to have him. By the time he was born, there was instant recognition; this was the boy of my dreams. I know what Rob is missing. I can't imagine what he and his family are going through. Yet I mourn his loss. When I wrote my email to Rob, I didn’t quite know what to say. I only knew what I felt and what I imagined brave little Doss had tried to do. I wanted to wish Rob and his family, the best of everything. I don’t think I got “everything” in, but I’m glad Rob liked my email. I’m happy to have provided…something.

I live my real life in a nearly complete bubble. I wake up, go to work (or work from home), go home, spend a bit of time with my little family, go to bed; brush, rinse, repeat. I have my family, my friends, and my co-workers. It’s a very small world inhabited by a relatively small population. Before I began my blog, I was pretty sure the only people I would get to know or would get to know more of me were friends and family. I know, everyone who blogs says it at one point or another, but really, little did I know that I would find true interest in an online community of parents and people. Little did I know that I would take a day off from work in honor of a child I’d never met but whose passing filled me with…sorrow? Empathy? Heartache? All of it. I hugged my son tighter that day, knowing a little more how blessed I am.

********

I’ve been writing about a lot of serious things lately. I surprise myself in how much I’ve softened. I’m a cynic through and through; or so I thought. There’s something about parenting maybe, or growing older, or just the idea of being a part of a community that’s softened my ideas about life and society at large. Or maybe, it’s just that I’ve experienced a lot of pain and I wished that others didn’t have to feel the same. I’m not sure what I’m trying to say here, which is probably why my last post on the subject failed miserably. I just know that, I GET what Longfellow was saying when he wrote in the first two stanzas of A Psalm of Life:

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
and things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art; to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Just for Rick

For a friend, by special request, I'm now experimenting with new design for my blog so that it will be easier to read. Sorry for the mess. Update Aug. 19, 2006: For some reason Firefox and Internet Explorer are showing two different views of the blog. I really really don't want to have to put a "Best Viewed with Firefox" disclaimer somewhere so I'm going to have to figure out what's going on. Also, blogger's preview and what actually gets published are different. Stay tuned. At least the graphics don't look too bad and are in the right place. =)

We Interrupt This Program...

...to bring you a note on style. I've received a comment that if I want more readers, I should be more "introspective" and "subject oriented". Here is my answer to that: "Sorry, no." I had considered writing more detailed posts, but 1) I really don't have the time, 2) I'm actually really a simple girl with a simple writing style and 3) I don't know if I really want to articulate what I really feel right now. In terms of being subject oriented, I thought long and hard (ok, not that long) on what I should be writing about. I mean, I really did wonder what the theme of this blog should be. Of course, then I realized I could write whatever the heck I wanted because there is no theme to me. I thought about writing a mommy blog, or a student blog, or a Vietnamese blog, or a food blog and I couldn't make up my mind so I just write whatever strikes my fancy. Isn't that subject oriented enough? Right now I feel like writing about how I came to be here. I know it's short on details, but I really think that I should just state the facts or what my parents tell me for now and then maybe discuss how I actually feel about those events later. Besides, much of this story, I'm learning for the first time too.

Do over!

Writing this blog in some ways is like writing my college essay. In the sense that there are so many interesting things about me and what I think about that I should write about; and yet I write about none of them. I mean, one would think that a former scrappy Vietnamese refugee who grew up with the classic repressive Asian upbrining and is now a chubby mother of two and primary bread-winner; who may be quitting her job to go back to school for a degree that has nothing to do with her job and thereby possibly put her family in the gutter; would have TONS of things to write about! Two words my friends, writer's block. Yeah, I should just write the way I talk. I SHOULD just put down whatever the hell I want, but the fact that I have to formulate sentences or some other clear and concise post that clearly defines what I'm thinking about...is a lot harder than I thought. For example, here are some things that I have been thinking about in the last few weeks (primarily on my commute to or from work): I AM NOT A DEEP THINKER I am a person who wants to think or appear as though I am a deep thinker. You know that movie "What Women Want" where Mel Gibson can hear women's thoughts and notices that women never stop thinking or worrying...yeah, that ain't me. Most of the time, I am mindlessly doing things and going through the motions of life; everything on automatic. I WISH I were always thinking. That said, when I do hear myself think, it's usually about something I like and then because I am so indecisive, I end up debating with myself on why I like what I think I like. Sunshine filtering through roadside lilac bushes onto sprinklers with water droplets that sparkle in the rays is NOT beautiful people. It is just a sign that your life is so devoid of beauty that you are willing to find it any random place and total ignore the idiosyncrasies such as the dirt on the lilac leaves, the general droopiness of the blossoms and the stunted growth due to the all the traffic; not to mention the general waste of water as the sprinklers are half watering the passing cars. You see? Why I can't I just enjoy it and let it be? It's not that I'm critical of the view, I'm critical of my own opinion of the view. Slap me. I AM EVERYTHING I am self absorbed. I know it and realise it and most times, I feel really guilty about it. Whenever I write about something, I always realize the numerous places where I have the word "I". It bugs the hell out of me that I can't keep myself out of things that I'm talking about. After I talk to people, I can't help but rewind the conversation in my head and realize how much I talked about myself and what I am doing or how things are going for me. Even my family comes after me. I am going back to school and putting my family second after my own goals. How selfish is that? I already work 50 or so hours a week. I mean, I go to work, after seeing the kids for less than 15 minutes and then I come home and work some more, many times till after they are sleeping. And now I want to not only work but also take classes. Poor kids, I'm just hoping that they're too young to remember that I am abandoning them for my own wants. In the last two paragraphs, I used "I" or "I'm" over 20 times. :sigh: THERE IS NOTHING AFTER DEATH BUT BLACKNESS AND NOTHING No, I don't really believe that. It's a debate I have with myself a lot in the mornings which in turn lead me to question the point of it all. So much depends on mood. I notice that I mainly think about this on the way to work but hardly ever after unless it was a bad day and I'd been working late thereby having fewer hours between work and more work. Gives you and idea on why I want to quit doesn't it? AND... I'll continue this after I do some work this morning...

On your mark...

So why blog? Why put yourself out there for other people to scrutinize? Why let the voyeurs in? Growing up asian, it was all about saving face. About making sure that everyone saw only what you let them see and about making sure you don't humiliate or embarass anyone. When I was a little girl I was told to be silent and to be seen perhaps but not heard. Which is ironic, because now as a grown up, I'm often asked why I don't speak up or stand up for myself. I guess a blog is one way that I'm speaking out. The people whom I want to hear what I have to say will never read this. In real life, I would never dare to speak against them, or let them know how I really feel about the world, about my life, about the situations I am placed in and why. So why not keep a journal instead? I could write in a journal and keep these things to myself and yet write to someone who doesn't exist, but then, part of me wants commentary. I want to know if people agree or disagree or maybe find out if I'm a complete nutcase. Group therapy is good...