What is Love?

I’m currently sitting at the beach, stomach full of supermarket sushi, a tall nonfat caramel macchiato sitting to my left, surfers in the cold water in front of me, and a view of the planes taking off from the airport to my right. I’m here looking for inspiration, all in pursuit of trying to answer one question: What is love?

Today marks the one month anniversary of the break-up. The hurt still remains but slowly fading away. The main reason why it all ended was that he didn’t fall in love with me in the three weeks that we were together. (There is a back story to this, but that's another story for another time.)

So, how does one fall in love? Does the “falling in love” part have a time line? I know every person is different, but isn’t there some kind of universal formula or sequence that happens?

Merriam-Webster defines love as:

1a (1) : strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties love for a child (2) : attraction based on sexual desire : affection and tenderness felt by lovers (3) : affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests love for his old schoolmates b: an assurance of affection love

2: warm attachment enthusiasm, or devotion (love of the sea)

(M-W gave seven more definitions of love, but we'll just keep it simple so everyone can read it..)

Ok, so the concept of love varies from person to person. How do you know you love someone? Does love happen when you touch someone and there’s a feeling that there’s nothing else in the world but you and that other person? If you constantly think about this person every day (and not in a stalker kind of way), does that mean you’re in love?

Then, when you think you’re in love, how do you know if that person is “the one”? I have a friend: very handsome, a professor, a chronic dater. He’s been chasing this idea of “the one” for 35 years. In his head, “the one” is someone he has some magical connection, something like you would see in the movies. I asked him if he ever came close to finding “the one.” He gave me this thinking look, then said that he probably did but never gave it chance because that magical connection wasn’t instantaneous. I then asked what if he never finds this magic. He got quiet again, then responded that he’ll accept the consequences. (A very politically correct answer.)

On the other side of the spectrum, if we find this love but you’re not 100% sure, do you settle? Do you give up on this right person and pick the person who isn’t so bad. Maybe there’s not that magic spark or he/she doesn’t challenge you, but at the end, this person makes you feel good. Do you settle because there’s that greater fear that you’ll end up alone in a house full of cats? (Ok, bad stereotype.)

I’ve decided that I’m in the middle. I want someone who will challenge me and there is that special connection. Will it always be magical? Maybe, maybe not. But at the end, I want someone who is good to me and makes me comfortable about myself. Is that too much to ask?!?!?!

Now, going back to this anniversary. I’ve accepted it. I can’t force a square peg to go through a round hole. Now, it’s time to move on and hope for the best. I can be like one of those “Sex in the City” girls who just dates half the city, thus increasing my chances. Or I’ll just start looking for a dog. (I’m allergic to cats.)

Ethnic Studies 1A

Story time!

I was sitting on the Spanish Steps in Rome on a sunny March afternoon people watching. I was writing in my journal when an older Italian man sat down next to me. I looked up and gave him a polite "buon giorno." He nodded then proceeded to stare at me. Then, the following conversation ensued:

Old man: Excuse me, where are you from?

Me: [smiling politely] America.

Old man: Huh? Where are you from?

Me: A-mer-i-ca.

Old man: No, no, no. WHERE ARE YOU FROM?

Me: China?

Old man: Ahhh. Your English is very good!

Me: [slightly confused] Thank you.

(And yes, I had to take a picture with this guy. His name was Giuseppe. We tried talking for an hour. He also wanted to take me out to dinner and promised me a place to stay somewhere along the Almalfi coast. I didn't take either offers.)

So, you're probably wondering now why I'm telling you this story. Here goes... I have had the chance to travel around the world. And where ever I went and get asked where I'm from, I would say about 95% of the time would look at me in disbelief after they hear my response.

While working in Japan, I received a complaint from a student saying that I wasn't a native English speaker because I didn't have blonde hair and blue eyes. So, if my black hair and small dark brown eyes don't make me an American, then what am I?

A few weeks ago, my latest adventure took me back to the motherland, a.k.a. mainland China. I honestly didn't know what to expect. I thought it would be somewhat familiar having grown up in what I thought was a traditional Chinese family within a Chinese community.

I would have to say that of all the places I've traveled to, this was the first time I ever really experienced 'culture shock.' I felt confusion, sadness, helplessness, with a sprinkling of negative stereotyping. I know, weird concept, huh? A Chinese girl shocked by the Chinese culture?! Granted, my first port of entry into the middle kingdom was Shanghai, not exactly known as the friendliest city in the world. A majority of them were rude, unwelcoming, and looked at me in disgust after they found out I couldn't speak Mandarin. Within a few days into the journey, I had already made a joke to a friend saying that after meeting the Shanghainese, I no longer wanted to be Chinese.

As I made my way around the country, the shock slowly eased, but that feeling of not belonging was always still there.

The friend I was traveling with made a comment while we were waiting for a boat to arrive. We noticed about 5-6 guys squatting (as if they were on a squatty-potty) and talking to each other. He laughed in disbelief that they were sitting like so and said they looked like monkeys. At that time, I laughed with him in agreement, mainly because I was frustrated with my cultural identity crisis. But later on, the more I thought about it, that joke he made was really an insult to the men (and to me). It's just how they sit and it's normal! I know he didn't mean it as such and I didn't tell him that I was offended (but wish I did). It just put more questions into my head as to who I really am.

And now, here I am, confused as ever. My travels around the world has opened up my eyes to all the different kinds of people that are out there, and yet, the one culture I thought I could identify the most turned out to be the most complicated of all.

So, to answer the question, who am I? I am who I am. I have black hair, brown eyes, a bit squishy in between. I am Chinese on the outside, American with some Chinese in the inside. But at the end, I'm still the same as everyone else, a human being.

The Young and the Restless

Ferris is a brilliant man. (Ok, I'll give some credit to John Hughes too.) In a nutshell, he's telling us that life's short, so enjoy it the best you can.

I'm at a crossroads now and I have no idea what to do next. Every now and again, thoughts about life, work, love, relationships, and other random things just inundates my head (and hence the little specks of white starting to sprout). My point is that there is so much I want to see and do and I only have one life time to do so. How I will accomplish my bucket list remains to be seen... Although, every morning when I wake up, I hope to find a big bag of money sitting next to my bed. Hasn't happened yet, but it will.

Lost and Found

Thanks K for helping me find a little something I had forgotten.

Night view of Los Angeles from the Griffith Observatory.

Déjà vu

I went back to my old job after repatriating to say hi to my ex-boss and to drop off some Brasilian chocolate I had promised to bring back. Two weeks later, she emailed me asking if I was interested in going back to my old job. With a grim job market, I eagerly said yes. (Yes, bribery does work!)

It has been a little over 2 weeks since returning to the rat race. I'm still on the fence if I'm really enjoying what I'm doing. Working overseas is definitely more enjoyable. In the States, I have more bureaucracy to deal with. I thought I was able to run away from all of it when I left for Brasil. But in a matter of weeks, it all came back in a big hurry. It feels as if South America never really happened now except I now speak to my Brasilian boss only in Portuguese and I spend a ridiculous amount of time talking to my computer. (The computer part is the highlight of my day... I'm not crazy!)

I have no great epiphanies or even a decent conclusion to this post. All I got is a quote from Richard Iannelli, a clinical psychologist: Spontaneity is the quality of being able to do something just because you feel like it at the moment, of trusting your instincts, of taking yourself by surprise and snatching from the clutches of your well-organized routine a bit of unscheduled pleasure.

I think I need another trip to South America. =)

Confessions of a Nomad

Yes, I've been seriously slacking with the blogging... but with good reason. Since my last entry in November, things had happened. A LOT of things had happened. And with the urging of my very good friend, Glenn, here I go:

My wonderful job at CNA came to an end. While I was hired to write and give a minimum of 5 workshops, I ended up giving only one thanks to bad scheduling and broken air conditioners. I'm still waiting for my writing credit in their yet-to-be-published textbook. (I wrote about being an ESL teacher. I know, a stretch.)
	I spent December and January with a backpack smelling like old socks. I started off flying to Uruguay and parking myself on the beach, taking a boat to Argentina to tango, crossing through the Andes by bus to Chile, and sailed through the Chilean fjords on a ferry remembering how much I really disliked boats. But, the goal was to make to 'el fin de mundo'. And I would like to say to Mrs. Gonzalez, my 6th grade teacher who made me travel my imaginary road to Tierra del Fuego, I made it to the end of the world. Woohoo!
While on my little adventure, in a little city called Córdoba, I did manage to pick up something (or someone) from the Netherlands. Let's just say I definitely wasn't planning on that happening. The things you do after being kicked out of the hostel so the workers can attend Christmas mass and being slightly inebriated by fermented wheat.
	My last month in Brasil was bittersweet. I didn't get to travel as much as I was hoping due to financial constraints. (Patagonia got a bit pricey at the end!) However, I was left with a lot of time to ponder about life, the future, and how to make the perfect caipirinha.
I also managed not to go to Carnival in Rio de Janiero. Why? I couldn't justify spending $1,000 on a 4 day party/drunk-fest. Instead, I hopped on a bus with C and A some 10 hours away with only the clothes on my back and $50 BRL to my name. (It was more of bad planning on my part. Good thing C had clothes and A had money.)
	I said 'abraços e beijos' (hugs and kisses in Portuguese) to Brasil with a bit of a whimper. For the most part, I did enjoy my time in the land of rice and beans. My only regret was the failure of the ring. Sei lá...
Home is where the heart is, I guess. There's nothing like sleeping on my own feather bed wearing clothes that doesn't have holes where holes shouldn't be. And the best part, I got to drive my car. No more buses with random weird guys wiping their sweat on me!!!
	And so, only after 10 days of being in the US, I jumped on a plane to Amsterdam to see what I had picked up in Córdoba. My objectives in Holland were to see a windmill, try on wooden shoes, and eat brownies. (And for all those who are curious: Yes, I saw one from the plane and one up close. No, but saw some middle-aged guy click-clacking around in very fashionable yellow clogs. No, I didn't, but I did the next best thing. It's legal, so it was ok!) As for my big reason for me cashing in all my frequent flier miles to Europe, the future for us is definitely foggy. 9,000km of land and water doesn't help us any. Only time will tell... Or maybe a trip to China...
Now, I'm back to a semi-quasi reality in California. Mother Nature was nice enough to remind me I was back by waking me up with a 4.4 earthquake at 4:04am centered 22km away from my bed. (Sarcastic 'yay!') I'm on day 2 of job-hunting/jury duty waiting/graduate school essay writing/exercising/photo-editing.

And with that, you have now been updated. Congratulations!