Conversations with strangers.

Over the last year, I have been stopped multiple times on campus by random people as I am walking. Everytime, without fail, these bold people ask, "Where do you come from?" Honestly? I'm rushing to class. This isn't the time nor place to be asking me about my ethnicity. Years of answering this question has allowed me to quickly, and clearly, state. "Imfromconnecticut, myfamilysfromhongkong."

"Oh, I just got back from a trip/mission to China/Korea/Japan," is usually their reply.

Blah blah blah. Don't get me wrong, I like talking about my heritage, but in a three minute conversation while I am trying not to be trampled by students, nothing profound can come from it.

The weirdest experience was when I was speed walking--because running makes you look like a fool--to work at the SWKT when I hear steps behind me quicken, each step sounding closer and closer. Suddenly, out of my peripheral, I noticed this guy matching my pace and stride. As I sped up, he sped up with me. I slowed down, he did the same. I finally looked at him and acknowledged him. I heard him ask, "Are you from Chinese?" and thinking he meant Chinese class, I said yes.

In retrospect, I think he either asked, "Are you Chinese?" or "Are you from China?"

"Well neat. Did you serve Chinese speaking?" expecting him to be yet another return missionary.
"Nope, I went to Peru."
"Oh."
"I work at Chinatown."
There it was. "Neat."
He then attempted to speak Chinese.
"Sorry, excuse me?"
"Woshimiegoren."
"Oh, ni shi mei guo ren," I said, correcting his tones.
"That's what I said, woshimiegoren."
"OK."
"You should come by Chinatown sometime."
"OK."
"Bye." Then he turned around and walked back the direction we were walking away from.
And there we go. We're probably going to be best friends forever.

The zipper.

I felt good. I felt really good. My job interviewing skills were getting better and better and I think I got this job. This is a dream--PR and secretarial work. No one likes organizing calendars and working with social media more than this girl.

The original shorteralls (overall shorts).

So I went back to my apartment, happy as clam, or mussel, or some short of shellfish (how did this idiom come about?). I shared my excitement with my friends and went on for a couple minutes about the company. I turned around and started heading back to my apartment to change. 

"Eden," Nicolle hesitated. "Has your zipper been down this whole time?"

I thought for a second. Did this skirt have a zipper? No...right?

Nicolle walked up behind me and ziiiiiiiip.

Oh crap. My mind started racing. Where have I been? Who had seen me? How did I miss the zipper? The room was rising in temperature. I remember rushing home from my final to grab Camille's car keys and changing very quickly. I remember fastening the clasps...but I couldn't recall zipping the zipper. My interviewers might have seen. "Eden?" I became unresponsive to my friends. I'm clawing at the recesses of my mind to find a place to hide. I kept thinking. The man was at least a billion feet tall, so maybe not him. The woman seemed exhausted from interviewing all day long. She was seated. She could have witnessed my plaid blue underwear (thank goodness it was appropriate). The man in the back booth of Kneaders. For sure, he saw. All those cars that passed me when I went to Illia's to say goodbye. All five of those cars, abundant with people.

And now my friends. (Oh, how I will miss them.)

As my flashbacks began to dim, I became more conscious of my physical surroundings. Laughter filled my ears, the room was hot and it was hard to breathe. I was so confident in my interview, and one simple mistake, one sign of weakness tore me down.

Predator.

There is a crazy cat infestation around my complex. Sometimes the meowing in the night keeps me up. It definitely is becoming a problem. And it doesn't help that the old mattress in the parking garage is housing a billion of those cats.

Over a month ago, there was a grey cat lying very soggy and very dead on the storm drain in front of my apartment, the same entrance to hell that the raccoon around here sulks into each morning.

Don't worry, I called animal control.

Nicolle wrote a nice eulogy for Banjo the cat.

Sometime last week, I was walking to grab a soda and fries for a night in with Camille. I strolled by some bushes next to my apartment complex when suddenly, the bushes rustled and started growling. I stood still for a half a second, stiffened when the snarling intensified and I heard the sound of flesh tearing. I quickened my pace and thought, "What the heck am I going to do if this animal pounced on me?" Two more steps and I was out of the devil's sight but not before hearing a rough bark--not of a dog--and gnashing of teeth. It must have been rabid as the sounds rising from the stirring bushes concocted images into my mind of a creature with froth and blood dripping from its open, hungry mouth.

To the victim of the vicious circle of life, although you didn't go in such a way, I hope you rest in peace.

Anyway, I hope finals are going well. Here's a clip from Bob's Burgers...one of my newfound television favorites.

It's a special brand of humor. It took me three or four episodes to get into it. And now I love it.

In other news this morning, the Associated Press' twitter was hacked. It tweeted falsely that there was an explosion at the White House and Obama was injured. The AP stock fell drastically then came back up. And now my primary source of news (AP tweets to my phone) has been suspended.

Have a good day, my friends.

The silence.

My best friends are the best out of those I have made in my life. They understand my quietness not (solely) as introverted awkwardness (because let's admit it, I am sometimes awkward when I converse), but as just thinking time for me, as time for me to just soak in what is going on around me and to just be with whoever I am with. Other people, even you, may misunderstand this quietness as a barrier between myself and the world, as extreme introverted-ness, or an unwillingness to get to know you. One of my high school Spanish teachers once described me as "nice, but not friendly." I am sorry if I come across to you that way. I promise, I am friendly once you get to know me (and that was high school...wasn't that a weird time for everyone?). And I can't really explain why I am so quiet. I did take a personality test for my class this semester and it said I am an ISFJ, which, I guess, kind of provides an answer to the why. Upon reading more about what psychology had to say about my personality, I came across a segment in the Wikipedia article saying that my "reluctance to open up to strangers can lead others to misread them [ISFJs] as standoffish." I apologize if I ever come off as standoffish. This is not me. So, as my remedy to any misconceptions you may have of me, I decided to periodically post about my thoughts and emotions as a way for you to get to know me without me having to really talk about my thoughts and emotions.

I always preferred writing to talking about my emotions.

So right now, I am feeling very anxious. The same best friends are leaving for their home, for their internships abroad or for their mission. I am very happy for them, don't get me wrong, and I am excited for this summer. But I am also scared of change. And although I have done many things by myself--I love the quiet of my room, of my apartment, of my world--there are moments when I am alone where I feel troubled and suffocated by the silence. And I am going to be alone soon.

But this will be good for me. And it'll only be for a little while in the grand scheme of things. That's what I keep saying to myself. That's what everyone keeps saying. I just need to stay focused on the good that will come from this and not let my mind go to a dark place. I have a new calling in church, I have neat classes that will keep me busy, I (may) have a job, I have more time to read books and take up new hobbies. I have you. I have future me. I have God.

Dear friends and readers, my closest of friends are leaving so please be patient with me if I seem even more overwhelmingly quiet in a couple weeks.  But I will come out to play soon.

An email from the future.

Monday evening, Eden sat at the table with her books scattered about. She was leaning heavily on her left arm, her hand clutching at the roots of her hair as her other hand restlessly shook her pen against her textbook. Too many characters to memorize before Saturday. 她要會去睡覺。

"This final will be the death of me," she muttered under her breath.

Amidst the mumbling and grumbling, Eden's phone started buzzing, startling her as it disrupted the silence. Apparently, AIM was still alive and well and now allowed texting. It simply stated that she "received a txt from an AOL/AIM user." 

The message?

"Check your junk and spam mail...your first task is waiting." 

Eden started freaking out. What the heck was going on. How did this person get her number and her email? Privacy is dead and pretty soon, she was going to die. That's how it was in the movies, right? Some form of privacy is breached and then the victim dies. She was going to die.

This didn't stop her though. No, not Eden. She delved into her spam folder and found an email from an Eden Wen. Same username, just different service...

Finals.

Ancestors
Hear my plea
Help me not to fail my finals please
And to not pollute my grades with C's
Help me to survive this week...

Oh goodness. Ohhhhh goodness. Finals are nigh and my motivation to study is nonexistent. Each time I open a textbook, I end up shutting it within five minutes, tears pooling in my eyes, overwhelmed with the amount of concepts and characters and craziness I have to store back into my brain.

I just can't wait to be done with finals. I am ready to to celebrate the end of this semester. I am ready to shed the woes of this past semester and start anew. And although I am quite wary of change, I am ready for spring and summer and for the new adventures that it'll bring.

One of those days.

Sometimes I think too much about my future, my past, my friends, my family and I get uneasy about everything that is happening all around me.

Today is one of those days.

In these times, I like to surround myself with people to keep myself from feeling alone. And I just listen and listen and listen. If I am alone, I like to surround myself with music to keep my mind in check. And I just listen and listen and listen.

And although today is one of those days, I've surrounded myself with good friends and good music and I'm feeling that in the end, everything's going to be just fine.

I hope you have a good day and enjoy the rooster.

Neverland isn't as special.

Dear Friends,

Today I would like to just let my thoughts wander and chat a little about growing up. This month I am turning 25 (which just so happens to also be my golden birthday), an age that I have forever thought of as the turning point from young adult to adult’s adult. Like responsible adult. Get your own phone plan adult. Be independent adult. I no longer need to talk to my parents every week kind of adult. Well, I think you get the idea. And as I am getting closer to this age, day by day I realize that I am by no means ready to be an adult’s adult. And I think that it’s okay… to a point…to still be contingent on your own childlike tendency’s to depend on your parent’s love.

Last month my Grandpa was admitted to the hospital for a handful of different reasons. Now let me tell you a bit about my Grandpa. He is just so special to me. His birthday is just 3 days before mine and out of the 24 (going on 25) years I have lived on this Earth, we have celebrated our birthdays together 23 times. It is a tradition that I hold dear to my heart as we age together, though separate.

This year he turns 81. And as of right now it looks like he is going to make it to yet another birthday. But while he was in the hospital our family experienced an emotional awakening, something that we have not experienced before. The possible loss of a person we all love so sincerely. Now I am sure that most of you have experiences death in your own families, and yes I have too, but this was a little different, this was the first familiarity of death in regards to someone who has truly changed my life. Through many prayers from myself and others and through the expertise of the doctors who worked with him, he is home resting. But none the less, this was close, and it was a very real emotional drain on my heart.

A little while after he was released to go home, I went to go visit my dad at his house about 40 minutes from where I live. As we were sitting on the couch silently watching some t.v. he says to me, “I know that he is only getting older, and that we have been expecting this for a while, but it still is a strange feeling to know that the man who raised me is going to be leaving soon.”