And You May Quote Me 64

You know you have a dieting issue if, at any given point in time, you own many pairs of jeans, but only one fits.

Snippet 208

V:
[Referring to Alley the German Shepherd]
You know, I'm really starting to resent her surveillance.

RJ:
Just now?

Quote 254

It's like the Loch Ness Monster. There may be something there. There may be not. But it's fun creeping yourself out just thinking about it.*

- Leonard on Sheldon's relationship with Amy, The Big Bang Theory


*I may be misquoting

Lost and Found 2

My relationship with food has changed.

I've been reading this book Food: the Good Girl's Drug by Sunny Sea Gold. As soon as I read an article about it I knew I had to read it. The rest of the title is How to Stop Using Food to Control Your Feelings.

Bottom line: it's about Emotional Eating. It's the most neglected eating disorder in existence. I identify right away.

Food has been a friend and a foe for so long and yet I've never really thought I could do anything about how it affects me. When I go through what I call a phase (I yo-yo but differently than most binge eaters), I just ride, knowing that it won't be forever.

In my adulthood, between my all-time high and all-time low in weight, there is just a hair short of 40 pounds. I've been close to a size 8 and a size 0.

Now, i know, a white woman would be like, "Oh, shut up, you tiny Asian!"

But it is the equivalent of struggling between a size 16 and a size 8. It is not insignificant. Same spectrum.

And all the while I was wearing the same size bra. It's been as loose as floating on me and as snug as flattening with spillage. Now that's denial.

The book has allowed me to see food in a different light. A concept as simple as not labeling food as "good" or "bad" has been a miracle.

Now, i've known i turn to food for comfort since about age 9. That's like a no-brainer. But to address it, and not fearing addressing it. Wow.

It's been a short journey yet, but already i'm hopeful. This morning, for no apparent reason (or so i thought), i was craving dim sum. These days, a craving can turn into anxiety. Should i go get this fix? Where? When? Better start planning NOW! And often one craving generates another and i'm just frazzled and immobilized by a plethora of desires and left with the irony of indecisiveness and powerlessness.

For it's not about the food. It's NEVER about the food.

But not this morning. I asked myself why dim sum. Images popped in my head. Sitting with family around a table. Chili sauce. Good times. I thought of my mother and my brother, neither of whom i see much of given our situation. Dare i say it? I miss them. I felt sad.

As soon as i felt sad, the craving was gone.

My old sarcastic self would've finished with, "Yeah, sadness. That's so much better!"

But really it is better to feel than drown.

The sadness remains. And there is nothing i can do about it. Not in my power. Not without entering a parallel universe. Not that i want to. And it's okay.

Serendipity

I hop on Dictionary.com and the word of the day happens to be:

anomie: a sense of loneliness and anxiety

Touché, Dictionary.com. Touché.

Authentication

I am not the same person I was two years ago.

Even though I'm a far cry from my mother who cannot boil water for her life ("How will i know when it comes to a boil?" She has said. Seriously. My mother is an intelligent woman, graduated top of her class. But one of the most sheltered persons you'll ever meet), I'm realistic - i'm no domestic goddess. I just recently shamelessly confessed to RJ that i don't avoid cleaning the tub out of laziness; i simply don't know how. Cooking is a hobby because it's just a nightmare for someone with OCD - i'm constantly wiping counters down, washing my hands and generally being counter-productive. The idea of entertaining paralyzes me, i don't dream of motherhood. Heck, a few years back i concluded that, even though i considered myself a dog person, i was pretty sure the trouble wasn't worth it.

The most free-spirited thing i ever did was to have walked on grass barefoot in my freshman year in college. I don't think i've done it since. I appreciate nature in a National Geographic way, from a distance. I don't like getting wet and i don't enjoy sweating. I think Amelia may have been on to something when she, in her early days of frustration and ambivalence coping with RJ's relationship with me, once called me his "Taiwanese princess". It's my favorite inside joke with RJ. I'm not Taiwanese. But maybe i'm a little against getting down and dirty.

This afternoon, in my second gardening attempt (my first was Thai basil, possibly my favorite herb of all time. Well, a close tie with cilantro. It's a toughie), i planted three herbs all at once in the new pot that RJ had purchased and prepped with a soil mix for me. I touched the dirt this time while i loosed the roots. I smelled the scent of the earth. I took in the sensations and didn't want to stop until it was all done, patted down, watered. My legs had fallen asleep then. The cockles of my heart were filled with satisfaction.

I thought, Wow, i like playing with dirt. Who knew? AND i've been feeding and walking Alley, picking up after her. Maybe i'm not such a princess after all.

Snippet 207

V:
[Referring to being able to drive on freeways and cook "something real" again, after an approximate 10-month hiatus]
I've got my mojo back!

RJ:
You do! You're back!

V:
Why did i go away?

Stripped 3

You know, the internet has come a long way. And the things you can do with a website these days to capture your audience: graphics, interactive interface, catchy phases and promos... The ideas are endless.

But this has happened to me more than once: i happily hop on a page, eager to learn more. And i'm left with the question:

Where?

Seriously. Location? That's kinda important, don't you think? Oh, yeah, ease of navigation and common sense. Think about it.

Provocation

Just finished reading The Help. When the movie came out, i was intrigued. I knew i had to read the book. I didn't want any imagery laid out for me. My mind makes the best pictures.

The premise of the story resonates with me on several levels. Humanitarianism has been dear to my heart for years. Life is not fair and nobody ever said it was. The only fair thing we can do is to look at a situation from all angles. It's easy to hate. It's quick to hate. But to walk in someone's shoes, to try to understand. To me this enriches the human experience.

Not long ago, a friend on FB updated his status:

Just watched The Help. Now I want to beat up white people.

Man, was he missing the point. Of the entire book.

Then there's the childrearing aspect that rattles me viscerally. The fact that my mother was not my primary caretaker, either. She made the bucks. She provided. But a child remembers the person who tended to her needs when she was hungry; when she was sick. When she needed a maternal figure.

I remember when i was in grade school i used to wish that my father would divorce my mother and marry my Aunt Teresa so we could be a real family.

Now, i have struggled with that very simplified notion. The feminist in me keeps arguing if a woman is not good enough a mother unless she stays at home full-time, outside of the work force. I can't reconcile that.

My Aunt Teresa, under-educated and far from insightful, who happened to also have worked as a maid before she married my schizophrenic uncle she'd been caring for, did nothing inspiring like teach me self-respect or human intrinsic values. But the selflessness and the dedication i witnessed. And remember. And am grateful for.

I know it takes a village, but to this day i wonder what it would be like if all those good qualities could be one embodiment. Does this just mean i'm not very enlightened?

Speaking of feminism, I sure am delighted by the idea of a female character in that era who does not necessarily worry over being single in her early twenties when she is surrounded by friends with babies. Especially when the man she fell in love with does not get the importance of what she's doing, the greatness of it all. He does not get her. NEVER marry someone who does not get you.

While The Help is set in Jackson, Mississippi in the '60's, I am reminded, with disgust and sadness, that the subservient culture is still alive and well today in many parts of Asia (that I know of). Women from the Philippines and Indonesia, among other nations that chronically suffer a shortage in jobs, are exported into more well-to-do parts of the continent to work as live-in maids. College-educated women. Can you imagine the humiliation? And yes they are still expected to act meek, Yes-ma'am this, Yes-sir that. Miles and miles from home, they don't get a lot of days off. Their only family in a strange land are other maids. And the wealthy societies go and mock these women in so-called comedy, reinforcing stereotypes on what these women look and sound like. It's all a joke to them, as if they've chosen this.

Right now i have friends on FB, people i went to school with, who have posted statuses like, "I can't wait till my maid is back from vacation!" Seriously? That's your biggest problem? Makes me cringe.

Heck, i also recall, back in the '90's, when i was still living in the L.A. area and hanging out with Persian "friends". There was this particular family that had done well for themselves. They had this Hispanic woman who came in to help a couple of times a week. They called her Mexican then, cuz, you know, it was L.A. Now i'm not even sure that was her heritage. I will never forget the way she'd look around the house, tiptoeing, speaking softly, if speaking at all, rarely speaking unless spoken to. The family acted civil with her when they had company. But i swear there was fear in her eyes. When i would smile at her, thank her, etc. she could barely look me in the eye. She'd turn away, as if even smiling back would get her accused of slacking or something. I wondered time and again, what might someone have said to her in the past? To have broken her spirit? The last straw was when the matriach was the family would stress, in the presence of company, "We don't treat her like help." Really? From where i sat, that was all they'd ever done. At any rate, if you didn't see someone different than you, is there a need to mention the nonexistence of that difference?

I know the classes and the deep-seated mentality of "we're better than them" are not going away any time soon. I'm just glad, every now and then, someone writes a book to shake us up a little so some of us don't forget how ridiculous we can be and still are.