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Movin’ groovin

I am in the midst of moving my blog elsewhere because WordPress is a bit limiting sometimes, in that I can’t personalize my layout much and I have to pay to use my own domain that I also have to pay for (?!?!). Don’t worry, I’m trying to make it look as similar as possible and I’ve already imported all my posts onto that blog so there won’t really be anything you’d get from here that you can’t see on there. So keep checking my domain http://jennio.net and you shall one day realize, Hey, I’m not looking at a WordPress anymore because I can’t find that random tiny happy face (If you look closely at the top right of my blog, it’s there) and it doesn’t seem like there was as much struggle to embed a video!

At that, I shall leave you with this bluesy gospel song I learned in class just now by Beverly Crawford:

Now being recalled: your safety!

I’ve been following the Toyota recalls for quite some time now, since around the time the floormat problem was uncovered, which was a long time before the accelerator problem became apparent. I’m sure you’re tired of hearing about it, but every time I step into my ticking time bomb, I can’t help but think about it, mostly because I listen to KCRW and if they’re not talking about the recalls, they’re talking to some representative of Toyota or a transit safety rep. When this whole thing first blew up, I was so confused because I kept hearing that my car was a part of the recall and then that it wasn’t and then there was a new recall and it was. I’ve been feeling the need to keep up with this news because basically everyone in my family drives a Toyota. SO, if you want to know if your car is affected, you should check the Toyota Recall website for the facts, because all the other sites are just confusing to look at.

As dangerous as the media has been making it seem, I haven’t really been that scared. I have felt the problem before but it’s so minute that I didn’t think much of it. I feel like it’s only a problem if you’re a crazy tailgater. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take your car in to get fixed! I’m going to take my car in soon to fix my brakes (the prob with the 2010 Prius) and hopefully my speakers too because those weren’t working from the start. Sigh.

On that note, I shall leave you with a picture of me and Perry the day he came home with me. I wasn’t actually allowed to drive him home, though. My sister had to. She insisted that I take this photo with my new gold car.

Semi-recent happenings

Happy birthdays to my roomies last month. We celebrated with snowboarding at Bear Mountain, California Adventure (especially the Toy Story ride!), Pee Wee Herman, and lots of drinking, all of which was fantastical. Chinese New Year is coming up and I really need to clean but school comes first this week with a midterm and quiz to deal with. Ughhho. So this time after I’m done with school (a little over a month left!), I am definitely going to go crazy with freedom and finally start updating this blogalog. I promises.

By the way, I am quite the bus taker, if I may say so myself, and I always noticed those orange and black “Who is John Scott?” stickers but forgot about looking it up when I got home, as my bus rides are quite long. They are pretty much on every bus I’ve been on and one time, I even saw one on the back of a homeless guy’s pants. I finally thought to look it up yesterday while taking the 720 and I am actually quite impressed with Mr. Scott. He has been deemed the oldest tagger by LA’s sheriff department at the age of 73, caught mid-stick at the 7th and Metro station a couple months ago. Aside from his ability to tag in hard-to-reach places, I am most impressed with the fact that he maintains webspace and sells gear. My dad is quite a bit younger than him and still says “load down” instead of “download.” It makes me wonder whether he has an accomplice or he’s just very tech savvy, though I am hoping for the latter. I also wonder how he got the sticker on that homeless man’s butt.

Rain inspired

The rain, as well as my dying umbreller that I have temporarily fixed with a paperclip (call me MacGyver), reminded me that this really tickles my fancy. Oh to protect my Beehive from the furies of wind and rain. This umbrella would allow me to see from the inside, all while protecting my wondrous ‘do. Okay, so I don’t have a Beehive, but if I did, this would make it all the better. I just hate when my umbrella flips out because of the wind and there is rarely rain without some wind. Debating on which color I should get. It’s between green to go with my rainboots or colorful polka dots to go with my everything!

Another quarter

I won’t go into it, but long story short, I have one more quarter at UCLA and then I am done. I know, I already walked and stuff. Surprise! I am still in school. Not a whole lot of posting going on, because I am super busy with school and work and commuting. I don’t know how to balance time very well. Still looking for that secret formula. Egh. So if you really want to know what I am up to, check out my Twitter on the side. You don’t have to sign up to look at it, if that’s what you’re wondering. I won’t judge you for looking at it either if you are totally against tweets.

Life.

My cousin sang at his own funeral. It’s a little morbid but it was something he loved to do so I guess it was appropriate. I didn’t even know it was him at first until my mom pointed it out. I then recognized his voice and I just started breaking down. I was probably the first person to start crying and my mom tried to tell me to quit it because I was making her do it too, and the service hadn’t even started yet. My sister tried to make me stop too by jokingly gesturing that she would punch me if I did not desist.

It was really different from the traditional Chinese funeral I went to almost exactly nine years ago for my grandpa. That one was a little shorter, less talk more ritual, more about paying our respect than sharing memories but I guess in both types it is our way of coping and trying to keep the person with us for just a little bit longer.

But I felt like this one was so geared towards removing every drop of tear you have in your body because the moment I walked in my heart sank. Up on screen were images of my cousin during happy times before he got really sick. On loop was a very professional sounding recording his brother found in his car of him singing that I guess he did not share with anyone. What can you do but cry knowing that you will never see or hear him in this lifetime again? My parents were a little upset about this because it obviously hurt them, especially my dad, to have to see/hear it, but I feel like it was a really beautiful tribute from his big bro.

It’s so weird to see everyone in your family, even the most stoic, show so much pain. I hugged several relatives in my family for the first time in my life and my parents for the first time since I was little. Strange how death urges us to let down our guards a little.

I kept wondering where my aunt and uncle were until I realized they didn’t come, couldn’t come actually. In Chinese culture, parents aren’t supposed to bury their children. I don’t think any parent should have to do that. I don’t know if his mom would have been able to bear it anyway.

Being there I began to feel really bad about my relationship with him. There was so much I didn’t know about him. I had no idea, first of all, that he was such a good singer! I thought his song was sung by a professional. I also had no idea that he was such a devout Christian. When I learned of this, everything about the way he treated the situation began to make a little more sense to me. We may have been close to siblings in terms of Chinese family relations (our dads are brothers) but as I looked around the room at all the strangers across the aisle, I felt like his real family (outside of his immediate family and family he grew up with, of course) may have been his church family. They sent him off I guess the way he would have wanted to go.

I was a little upset before because the way I saw it, he gave up. He refused to take any of the medicines my dad was trying to get him to take. But as I listened to the service, I realized I was thinking selfishly. To wish for him to live longer may have meant more pain, more chemo, more meds, and endless pain. Who knows if he would’ve been able to lead a normal life again? He isn’t suffering anymore and he is in a better place now. I’m sure he knows that he left behind a lot of people who loved him.

Rest in peace, Patrick.

Perspective

We, especially young people, seem to think that we are immortal, but it can all be taken away just like that. It’s like a piece of our family is missing. I can tell my dad is really upset because he felt like he was the only one who was trying but he is one of those people who can’t really express it and instead gets upset about other lesser things. I am just having a difficult time understanding how all this happened. I can’t even begin to understand how his parents must feel.. Sigh.

RIP P.W.

Check out what my mister made

here. :] They failed to mention that the eyes light up too! He’s been working really hard on it for months and he made our apartment smell gross from all the stuff he was doing on it but it definitely paid off because it looks super awesome and I haven’t come across any comments from pissed off Star Wars fans as of yet. It’s to be auctioned off to benefit the Make A Wish Foundation. Very exciting stuff.

P.S. Happy holidaze, friends.

shafted

My dad’s all stressed because of his filial duties. I wonder why both my parents always get stuck with the family duties. Even though most of our conversations consist of them scolding me or making fun of me, I think maybe they’re too nice and their sibs pick on them because they’re middle children. I guess I can see what lies in my future.

In case you’re wondering we are driving to Rose Hills to bury the grandma I never met, who he retrieved the ashes of from China and paid to keep in his storage unit because Chinese people don’t keep loved ones in the house and no one else seemed too eager to help him with it.

I think both my parents were raised in a situation where they had to take on grown-up responsibilities at a really young age whereas their older bros got first pick of everything the ‘rents were rationed.