"I love your daughter very much. We want to get married, and we would like to do it with your blessing."
My parents were finally ready for THE TALK. It had been almost four months since my move from San Francisco to DC. I was calling often, both out of obligation as a dutiful daughter and also because I missed them. Mostly because I missed them. A lot.
Taer and I made sure that his parents were fully prepared to embrace me whole-heartedly into their family, just as my dad requested. He reported that our mission had been accomplished.
"Jenn has spent time with my parents, and they like her. They, like you, had a difficult time in the beginning, but they are happy to welcome her as their daughter-in-law."
My mom was ready to accept Taer; it was my dad who was stubbornly holding his ground. I get my stubborn streak from my father. At this point, however, I felt like even he had softened up a lot since I'd left. Before our visit, he told me in a sad voice, "I miss my ddal (daughter)." He didn't want to lose his little girl.
Taer didn't think they would give in without still more of a fight. He was sure they'd "grab him by the nuts" for a while first. (Those were his own words.)
"Jenn has been an ideal daughter. [Not too much nut grabbing there.] To us, she is lacking in nothing, and she could be with anyone she wants. She has made it clear that she has chosen you, and we think you are lucky. [Balls are ever so slightly squeezed.]
"You are both grown adults, and you could have just gone and gotten married without caring what we thought. This whole time, however, you have been asking for our blessing. We appreciate that.
"Jenn has told us that she wants to be with you. All that we ever asked her to do for us was to become a lawyer. She has done that, and so now we have to give her what she wants in return. Welcome to the family."
I'm not so sure that suffering though three years of grueling law school and enduring the pain-inducing California bar exam is exactly Even Steven with my parents' blessing to marry the man I love. But whatev's - the wedding is on!
Monday, July 31
Friday, July 28
How humid is it?
I've never worn deodorant or anti-perspirant before. (Well, unless you count that one time I bought a stick of Secret in my early teens because I thought was supposed to be using it. I realized that I never needed it.)
NOW... I want to rub the stuff all over my body. Do they make anti-perspirant for the face? I've found myself just standing around with the Whitney Houstin upper lip drops. And how 'bout the FRONT of my knees - I didn't even know I had sweat glands there! Ew.
Aren't I painting a pretty picture of myself?
NOW... I want to rub the stuff all over my body. Do they make anti-perspirant for the face? I've found myself just standing around with the Whitney Houstin upper lip drops. And how 'bout the FRONT of my knees - I didn't even know I had sweat glands there! Ew.
Aren't I painting a pretty picture of myself?
Tuesday, July 25
I have boob envy
... except when I see this. I wear a sports bra when I run, even though I'm not sure how much I actually need it. Some of these girls REALLY need it! (Did you know about bra sizes beyond DD? Have you heard of FF or even G?!??)
http://www.shockabsorber.co.uk/bounceometer/shock.html
Sorry I've been so MIA. It's been BUSY! I'll update soon - promise.
http://www.shockabsorber.co.uk/bounceometer/shock.html
Sorry I've been so MIA. It's been BUSY! I'll update soon - promise.
Thursday, July 13
Ice cream cake makes the world a better place
I made this cake for Taer's birthday - my first attempt at cake and frosting from scratch! It was a hit, so I'm sharing. Ice cream and cake make this world a better place. Ice cream cake makes me forget that I'm sweating away into pools of grossness in the humid heat of the east coast. (Actually, it just makes me realize that I have to eat it faster here because it melts too fast... but that's a good excuse to eat TWO helpings!)
RED VELVET ICE CREAM CAKE
Cake Ingredients:
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter or margarine, softened
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs
1 (1 ounce) bottle red food coloring
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup buttermilk
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 tablespoon white vinegar
1/2 gallon vanilla ice cream (I like using vanilla bean or French)
Buttercream frosting ingredients:
1/2 cup solid vegetable shortening
1/2 cup butter or margarine
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (clear, if available)
4 cups sifted confectioners' sugar (approximately a 1-pound box); sift before measuring
2 tablespoons milk
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease and flour (or dust with extra cocoa) two 9-inch round baking pans.
In large mixer bowl beat butter, sugar and vanilla extract until creamy. Add eggs and food coloring; blend well.
Stir together flour, cocoa and salt; add alternately with buttermilk to batter mixture, beating until well blended.
In a small bowl, stir baking soda into vinegar; fold carefully into batter (do not beat). Pour batter into prepared pans. Bake 30-35 minutes or until wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean.
Cool 10 minutes; remove from pans to wire racks. Cool completely.
Thaw ice cream until soft, but not melted (about 15 minutes at room temperature). Place in bowl and stir until smooth. Line a 9-inch cake pan with plastic wrap and fill with ice cream, packing down and smoothing top. Place in freezer until firm.
To make the frosting: Cream butter and shortening with electric mixer. Add vanilla extract. Gradually add sugar, 1 cup at a time, beating well on medium speed. Scrape sides and bottom of bowl often. When all sugar has been mixed in, icing will appear dry. Add milk and beat at medium speed until light and fluffy.
Use immediately, or keep icing covered with a damp cloth until ready to use.
To assemble cake: Place one cake layer on serving plate. Remove and unwrap ice cream layer; place on cake, place remaining cake layer on top. Frost top and sides with buttercream frosting.
Makes 10-12 servings.
NOTE: Cake can be assembled and frozen up to 24 hours before serving.
RED VELVET ICE CREAM CAKE
Cake Ingredients:
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter or margarine, softened
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs
1 (1 ounce) bottle red food coloring
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup buttermilk
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 tablespoon white vinegar
1/2 gallon vanilla ice cream (I like using vanilla bean or French)
Buttercream frosting ingredients:
1/2 cup solid vegetable shortening
1/2 cup butter or margarine
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (clear, if available)
4 cups sifted confectioners' sugar (approximately a 1-pound box); sift before measuring
2 tablespoons milk
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease and flour (or dust with extra cocoa) two 9-inch round baking pans.
In large mixer bowl beat butter, sugar and vanilla extract until creamy. Add eggs and food coloring; blend well.
Stir together flour, cocoa and salt; add alternately with buttermilk to batter mixture, beating until well blended.
In a small bowl, stir baking soda into vinegar; fold carefully into batter (do not beat). Pour batter into prepared pans. Bake 30-35 minutes or until wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean.
Cool 10 minutes; remove from pans to wire racks. Cool completely.
Thaw ice cream until soft, but not melted (about 15 minutes at room temperature). Place in bowl and stir until smooth. Line a 9-inch cake pan with plastic wrap and fill with ice cream, packing down and smoothing top. Place in freezer until firm.
To make the frosting: Cream butter and shortening with electric mixer. Add vanilla extract. Gradually add sugar, 1 cup at a time, beating well on medium speed. Scrape sides and bottom of bowl often. When all sugar has been mixed in, icing will appear dry. Add milk and beat at medium speed until light and fluffy.
Use immediately, or keep icing covered with a damp cloth until ready to use.
To assemble cake: Place one cake layer on serving plate. Remove and unwrap ice cream layer; place on cake, place remaining cake layer on top. Frost top and sides with buttercream frosting.
Makes 10-12 servings.
NOTE: Cake can be assembled and frozen up to 24 hours before serving.
Monday, July 10
Born Into Brothels
Time. I needed time to just shut down for a little while, by myself, for myself. I didn't go anywhere or take time off work, but outside of my daily life, I let myself be purely selfish. And it was good.
I wanted to be lazy and not do laundry, so the pile grew. For once, keeping my thoughts and feelings to myself felt right, so I didn't write. I didn't work out when I didn't want to, guilt-free. I bought shoes.
I am now fat and broke and stupid, and I'm living in a big ole mess - ha!
Alright, it's not really all that bad. But I did need a mental and emotional vacation, so I took it. And I'm feeling better. I've got a good life, but I needed to remind myself of that.
I also gained some perspective over the last couple weeks when I watched Born Into Brothels. These children are born to mothers who work as prostitutes in the red light district of Calcutta. It's heartbreaking to see what their lives entail, but they do find hope through the art of photography. Whenever I vacation abroad, I always come home and become more keenly aware of how rich my life is, in so many respects. I've come back from my mental vacation with a similar mindset.
I wanted to be lazy and not do laundry, so the pile grew. For once, keeping my thoughts and feelings to myself felt right, so I didn't write. I didn't work out when I didn't want to, guilt-free. I bought shoes.
I am now fat and broke and stupid, and I'm living in a big ole mess - ha!
Alright, it's not really all that bad. But I did need a mental and emotional vacation, so I took it. And I'm feeling better. I've got a good life, but I needed to remind myself of that.
I also gained some perspective over the last couple weeks when I watched Born Into Brothels. These children are born to mothers who work as prostitutes in the red light district of Calcutta. It's heartbreaking to see what their lives entail, but they do find hope through the art of photography. Whenever I vacation abroad, I always come home and become more keenly aware of how rich my life is, in so many respects. I've come back from my mental vacation with a similar mindset.
Tuesday, June 27
I'll take earthquakes over THIS
Non-Californians often ask me, "What does an earthquake feel like?"
I tell them that if I'm walking or driving when a smaller tremor hits, I don't feel it. If I'm sitting still, it's similar to having a large train pass by and shake the building. I was at school during the biggie of '89, and even that one wasn't terribly scary for me.
When the crazy thunder and lightning started a few nights ago, followed by news of a flood watch and our flickering lights threatening their failure, THAT was scary.
What does this storm feel like? If all of my worst enemies were hanging out in the clouds and aiming at me with firefighter hoses on full blast... that would leave me feeling relatively safe and dry.
I tell them that if I'm walking or driving when a smaller tremor hits, I don't feel it. If I'm sitting still, it's similar to having a large train pass by and shake the building. I was at school during the biggie of '89, and even that one wasn't terribly scary for me.
When the crazy thunder and lightning started a few nights ago, followed by news of a flood watch and our flickering lights threatening their failure, THAT was scary.
What does this storm feel like? If all of my worst enemies were hanging out in the clouds and aiming at me with firefighter hoses on full blast... that would leave me feeling relatively safe and dry.
Friday, June 23
Why I shouldn't hold it in
I've been feeling kinda eh for a little while now. I couldn't decide exactly why, but I was getting frustrated with unpromising house hunting, I was really missing my family and friends, work was taking a lot of getting used to, blah, blah, blah... As I thought about those things, I felt like an undeserved complainer. Overall, I was still happy. Things with ever-sweet Taer were wonderful, the friends I had made here were all really nice, my job was still better than a lot of others I'd had in the past, and I did like it. I just had to get used to things being different.
Nothing was wrong exactly... but it wasn't completely right either. I guess I'll always miss home, at least a little.
Maybe it had to do with the fact that, for the first time, I had to wish my family a Happy Mother's Day and Happy Father's Day all the way from the other side of the country. Maybe it's because I missed getting together for dinner with the girls; and I have oddly only been able to talk to some of my closest friends once or twice in all these months (and most of them, sadly, not even once). These are people I used to talk to almost every day, and often multiple times a day - damn the time difference! Maybe it's because I thought we'd be going back for a visit next week, but we had to postpone the trip I was anticipating with so much excitement. Maybe I shouldn't have tried to hold in the fact that I was feeling a little down.
All I know is, I found myself with tears welling up in my eyes up a few nights ago. The more I tried to hold it in, the worse it got, so I finally decided to just let myself burst. All of a sudden, I wasn't just crying, I was BAWLING. My eyes got so puffy I could barely see. I was hyperventilating, which strangely made my lose feeling in my earlobes. Taer asked if I could breathe, and I nodded yes. It felt good to let it out. It hurt, but it felt good.
Whatever the situation is, I normally try to stay positive and optimistic. There was actually one day in college when I was particularly tired - I think I had pulled an all-nighter to finish a paper - so I wasn't my usual peppy self. All day, people kept asking me what was wrong. One of my friends even asked if I was mad at him. I guess no one was used to seeing me without a big smile on my face.
Another good friend, who was a psychology major, pulled me aside earlier in the year to say, "You know, there are some people who show a happy face to the world all the time... and then they go home and cry by themselves. You know you can always talk to me, right?"
I just laughed. With me, what you see is what you get; I'm quite transparent. I can't hide it when I'm upset; I'm usually as happy as I seem. But right now, I miss things about my old life terribly. I miss my people. And a good cry every once in a while is needed.
Nothing was wrong exactly... but it wasn't completely right either. I guess I'll always miss home, at least a little.
Maybe it had to do with the fact that, for the first time, I had to wish my family a Happy Mother's Day and Happy Father's Day all the way from the other side of the country. Maybe it's because I missed getting together for dinner with the girls; and I have oddly only been able to talk to some of my closest friends once or twice in all these months (and most of them, sadly, not even once). These are people I used to talk to almost every day, and often multiple times a day - damn the time difference! Maybe it's because I thought we'd be going back for a visit next week, but we had to postpone the trip I was anticipating with so much excitement. Maybe I shouldn't have tried to hold in the fact that I was feeling a little down.
All I know is, I found myself with tears welling up in my eyes up a few nights ago. The more I tried to hold it in, the worse it got, so I finally decided to just let myself burst. All of a sudden, I wasn't just crying, I was BAWLING. My eyes got so puffy I could barely see. I was hyperventilating, which strangely made my lose feeling in my earlobes. Taer asked if I could breathe, and I nodded yes. It felt good to let it out. It hurt, but it felt good.
Whatever the situation is, I normally try to stay positive and optimistic. There was actually one day in college when I was particularly tired - I think I had pulled an all-nighter to finish a paper - so I wasn't my usual peppy self. All day, people kept asking me what was wrong. One of my friends even asked if I was mad at him. I guess no one was used to seeing me without a big smile on my face.
Another good friend, who was a psychology major, pulled me aside earlier in the year to say, "You know, there are some people who show a happy face to the world all the time... and then they go home and cry by themselves. You know you can always talk to me, right?"
I just laughed. With me, what you see is what you get; I'm quite transparent. I can't hide it when I'm upset; I'm usually as happy as I seem. But right now, I miss things about my old life terribly. I miss my people. And a good cry every once in a while is needed.
Monday, June 19
WTF?
Taer took me on a "date" Friday night. (He opened my doors and everything!) We had dinner at Addie's, which is a cute, neighborhood-y restaurant in a little, yellow house down the street. It's not mindblowingly innovative cuisine, but it's definitely yummy; and you can't go wrong with the outdoor seating on a nice night. Or so I thought.
I smiled across the table as I savored my ribeye and Rosenblum zinfandel. I noticed Taer was ready for a little more wine, so I re-filled his glass; and when I was done, he took the bottle from me to fill my glass.
This is when the man to my right, white as Wonder bread, leaned over his table and "knowingly" informed his date that Taer and I were obviously following, "... an Asian tradition."
HUH? What the heck did this ethnically challenged man know about our traditions, Asian or not? When we're eating family style, Taer also puts food on my plate before serving himself. Is that considered Asian tradition too? I call it being courteous and thoughtful. Silly me. Every time we're nice to each other, will people around us think it's simply because we're Asian?
I had gotten used to living in my San Francisco bubble, where it didn't really matter if you were white, black, yellow, or purple. People were themselves. Everyone was different, so no one was different. I'm not saying that I've never experienced racism, nor am I calling this man's comment blatantly racist. But it's ignorant. And it's stupid. I hate ignorant stupidity.
I considered saying something to him. Maybe I could've played the role and announced, "Confucius say, You are an idiot!" But I decided to enjoy our dinner and speak loudly in my American born, law school trained, perfect English. There I go again, being all submissive and Asian.
Being fair, I should note that D.C. is pretty diverse. However, it is very conservative, and people are very set in their narrow ways. This is the first time I've met so many people who don't eat sushi. And this is also the first time I've met so many Republicans. I have a feeling I'll be going through a lot of firsts here. I just hope I'll know how to best deal with them in the future.
I smiled across the table as I savored my ribeye and Rosenblum zinfandel. I noticed Taer was ready for a little more wine, so I re-filled his glass; and when I was done, he took the bottle from me to fill my glass.
This is when the man to my right, white as Wonder bread, leaned over his table and "knowingly" informed his date that Taer and I were obviously following, "... an Asian tradition."
HUH? What the heck did this ethnically challenged man know about our traditions, Asian or not? When we're eating family style, Taer also puts food on my plate before serving himself. Is that considered Asian tradition too? I call it being courteous and thoughtful. Silly me. Every time we're nice to each other, will people around us think it's simply because we're Asian?
I had gotten used to living in my San Francisco bubble, where it didn't really matter if you were white, black, yellow, or purple. People were themselves. Everyone was different, so no one was different. I'm not saying that I've never experienced racism, nor am I calling this man's comment blatantly racist. But it's ignorant. And it's stupid. I hate ignorant stupidity.
I considered saying something to him. Maybe I could've played the role and announced, "Confucius say, You are an idiot!" But I decided to enjoy our dinner and speak loudly in my American born, law school trained, perfect English. There I go again, being all submissive and Asian.
Being fair, I should note that D.C. is pretty diverse. However, it is very conservative, and people are very set in their narrow ways. This is the first time I've met so many people who don't eat sushi. And this is also the first time I've met so many Republicans. I have a feeling I'll be going through a lot of firsts here. I just hope I'll know how to best deal with them in the future.
Thursday, June 15
My Ping golf commercials
Hey, so remember when I filmed those commercials for Ping golf a few months ago? Well, they're available online now.Go to http://www.pinggolf.com/drive_across_america.html and click on both "Bay Area" and "San Francisco." I'm just an extra; so don't blink, or you might miss me. But that is really me swinging in the San Francisco one!
Wednesday, June 14
Eye contact and a smile
When I read this article, it reminded me of the one and only time that I gave out my number at a bar.
I was at the Up and Down club, the now-closed, two-level SOMA bar with some ownership involvement by gorgeous model Christie Turlington. Luckily, Christie wasn't around that night to threaten my A-game with her beauty, because let me tell you - I was single, and I was ready to mingle! In fact, I may even be bold enough to say that Christie was the lucky one to not be threatened by me that night!
I kid.. a little. OK, so I wasn't exactly one of those boy-crazy girls who was constantly on the prowl, but I'll admit that I couldn't help but notice a tall cutie hanging around near the corner of my eye all night. I decided that I wanted to meet him. I believed in a bit of old-fashioned chivalry however, so I didn't want to fly across the room to hunt him down and aggressively attack with my man-eating claws bared. So, rather than making the first move, I decided that I would try to get him to approach me instead.
I told Tina about my plan: "What I'm going to do is make eye contact and then smile. If he thinks I'm cute, he'll come talk to me." Tina simply laughed at me - something she's enjoyed doing as my best friend all these years - but she agreed to be my wingwoman.
We "went to the bathroom" together, but I wasn't able to catch his attention on the way there or when we returned. On our third or fourth ladies' room visit, the target finally looked at me. For all I knew, he might have just been wondering why we seemed to have the smallest bladders on the planet. Whatever the case was, our eyes were locked. Phase one of my master plan was complete.
There wasn't a lot of time for phase two. I mustered up my best twinkly-eyed, nose-crinkled smile, and I flashed it his way. Quick. Not too intense or crazy or stalker-like. As I was getting ready to look away (also part of the plan), I found him making his way though the crowd toward me. He introduced himself and offered to buy me a drink.
Mission accomplished!
We chatted, and I learned that he was going to Harvard Business School. Ah, so I snagged an HBS boy. My dating radar must have been as selective as Harvard's admissions office. They should hire me.
Anyway, HBS boy got my number, and we went on a date that week. Out talk over dinner was... like a business interview of sorts. It was fine, and conversation flowed, but that was about it. No sparks, no second date, no nuthin. I don't know if "Earning That Harvard M.B.A." was "Worth It" or not for this HBS guy, but I didn't stick around long enough to find out.
I was at the Up and Down club, the now-closed, two-level SOMA bar with some ownership involvement by gorgeous model Christie Turlington. Luckily, Christie wasn't around that night to threaten my A-game with her beauty, because let me tell you - I was single, and I was ready to mingle! In fact, I may even be bold enough to say that Christie was the lucky one to not be threatened by me that night!
I kid.. a little. OK, so I wasn't exactly one of those boy-crazy girls who was constantly on the prowl, but I'll admit that I couldn't help but notice a tall cutie hanging around near the corner of my eye all night. I decided that I wanted to meet him. I believed in a bit of old-fashioned chivalry however, so I didn't want to fly across the room to hunt him down and aggressively attack with my man-eating claws bared. So, rather than making the first move, I decided that I would try to get him to approach me instead.
I told Tina about my plan: "What I'm going to do is make eye contact and then smile. If he thinks I'm cute, he'll come talk to me." Tina simply laughed at me - something she's enjoyed doing as my best friend all these years - but she agreed to be my wingwoman.
We "went to the bathroom" together, but I wasn't able to catch his attention on the way there or when we returned. On our third or fourth ladies' room visit, the target finally looked at me. For all I knew, he might have just been wondering why we seemed to have the smallest bladders on the planet. Whatever the case was, our eyes were locked. Phase one of my master plan was complete.
There wasn't a lot of time for phase two. I mustered up my best twinkly-eyed, nose-crinkled smile, and I flashed it his way. Quick. Not too intense or crazy or stalker-like. As I was getting ready to look away (also part of the plan), I found him making his way though the crowd toward me. He introduced himself and offered to buy me a drink.
Mission accomplished!
We chatted, and I learned that he was going to Harvard Business School. Ah, so I snagged an HBS boy. My dating radar must have been as selective as Harvard's admissions office. They should hire me.
Anyway, HBS boy got my number, and we went on a date that week. Out talk over dinner was... like a business interview of sorts. It was fine, and conversation flowed, but that was about it. No sparks, no second date, no nuthin. I don't know if "Earning That Harvard M.B.A." was "Worth It" or not for this HBS guy, but I didn't stick around long enough to find out.
Tuesday, June 13
Going to town
I'm lucky because my job allows me to work from home when I'm not meeting with clients. Now instead of asking if I'm on tour, Taer asks if I'm "going into town?" (Doesn't that sound like we're country bumpkins?) I've gotta say, there's nothing like rolling out of bed and then sending emails and making phone calls in my pajamas.
Taer just called and asked, "You're not going into town today? Well, you can eat those noodles in the 'fridge for lunch. Go ahead and go to town on the noodles. Oh, and there's some chicken left from last night too."
Whether or not I go into town and/or go to town on those noodles, I just think it's cute that my man worries about me and tries to take care of me. Is it just me, or does that seem like a bit of a role reversal?
Taer just called and asked, "You're not going into town today? Well, you can eat those noodles in the 'fridge for lunch. Go ahead and go to town on the noodles. Oh, and there's some chicken left from last night too."
Whether or not I go into town and/or go to town on those noodles, I just think it's cute that my man worries about me and tries to take care of me. Is it just me, or does that seem like a bit of a role reversal?
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