It's the Presence that Counts...Happy Holidays!

Hello!

It has been a while since I've ranted, but regardless, I hope you're having a great holiday season so far. I hope you're celebrating with family, loved ones, and, of course, lots and lots of food. At least, that is for me.

But the thing that I wanted to discuss today is the issue of gift-giving and gift-receiving. For me, I don't usually mind receiving trinkets, clothes, food, or whatever. As long as you had considered and took the time to get or make the present, I'll appreciate it. But what really irritates me is when people, especially those who are pretty close to me and can gauge my likes and interests, give me something cheap. I'm not saying that they should be giving me a Ferrari or anything- some, like me, are broke-ass college students with a budget. It's understandable. "Cheap" is when you 1) shopped last minute for the item (even right before we meet up!), or 2) give away a gift that you yourself received and did not like (and I can tell).

In the past, I've received such gifts. Story time: once, a friend gave me a hat that was for toddlers. Freaking toddlers. And I have a fat head, so there was no way in heck that that thing was going to fit my head. Nor was there a way in heck that I was going to wear it on a regular basis. I swear, she probably got it last minute at the infant/toddler section of a department store or something. And fyi, I gave it away, hopefully to a child who might actually want it (and actually fit his/her head!).

Another friend once gave me a box of chocolates. Now usually, chocolates are an easy present to give to people, but still...it disappointed me. And this particular box of chocolates is an example of cheap- literally. It wasn't even See's Candies, which I think is cheap enough! Maybe it was the fact that I took the time to make (yes, make!) her present and that she gave me a box of (cheap) chocolates just did not reciprocate.

I just feel like...if you honestly do not know what to give me, then save your money and don't buy me anything at all. Just give me card or something, but even a mushy Hallmark one pisses me off.

Maybe I'm just being picky and bratty for expecting too much from my friends and family. They are wonderful people, but maybe it's because... again, I make my gifts (not buy), so their gifts may not reflect the time and effort that I put into theirs. If that makes sense. But then again, I do wonder if some of my friends really put care into buying their gifts. Since they've known me long enough and know what I like and dislike, I would assume that they would buy or make things pertaining to those interests. Alas, I cannot be helped...

It's complicated, this holiday season-giving exchange. But I shouldn't put gifts as a priority. Because Christmas is not just about receiving new things, but appreciating the old friends, family, and loved ones who have made the whole year a novel and enriching experience. Sounds cliché, but overall, it's the presence that counts. Pun intended.

So Happy Holidays, everyone, and enjoy the festivities!

Why I Rather Not on Halloween

It's the last day of October, and what better way to celebrate the beginning of the cold, autumn-winter season with Halloween?

Not me.

As a child, I did not particularly enjoy Halloween. It wasn't that I hated it; I just never understood why people would put all of that effort into costumes, decorating houses, and trick-or-treating. Specifically, I did not understand why people would go through all of that money for a single night of the year.

I remember during elementary school we were obligated to dress up and parade around the school grounds with our teachers and classmates. Instead of being fun, it was stressful: not only I did not have ideas for who I wanted to be, but also the trouble of buying the costume, which was probably going to be too small for me to wear for the next Halloween. My Tigger costume at age six definitely did not fit me at age seven. I was a growing kid, all right?!

Also, trick-or-treating has got to be one of the most inane things that I did as a kid. I like candy, but the fact that I had to go out at night to some stranger's house to demand candy seemed like extortion. Weird as it sounds, I felt uncomfortable announcing "trick-or-treat" at the doorstep. Afterwards, I would come home and end up wasting 90 percent of the candy, because I didn't even like most of them. I remember that I would only save the Reese's cups, Kit-Kats, Twix, and Crunch bars, and throw away the rest (after, like, a month of being in the cabinet. Gross.).

One neighbor in particular once gave me a bag of popcorn. Unopened, not popped. I was, like, WTF?! Talk about laaame.

On the flip side, as I grew older and stopped trick-or-treating, I detested answering the door for trick-or-treaters. The worst part was that some came in packs, droves of tiny five-year-olds in princess and Batman costumes. It took forever to get them off the porch. Some were even rude, saying things like, "I don't like that candy," implying that I should give them some other brand. Sweetie, I spent 20 bucks on this generic, mass-produced junk. The fact that I used my own money to please your princess ass should mean something. So take the goddamn candy! Maybe this is why I am so bitter today...

I also remember some high schoolers "trick-or-treating." They didn't even dress up and demanded candy! Their smug, laughing faces as I tossed a Hershey square or candy corn into their school backpacks pissed me off so much. God, I hate children. By the 10th grade, I had locked the gates of my house and turned off all the lights to show that no one was welcomed. Too bad, kids.

Granted, one could see Halloween as a day for the community to come together and get acquainted with each other. One could see Halloween as a day for self-expression, donning fabulous and extravagant costumes to show off one's artistic flair. One could view Halloween as a day for "free" candy, as well as a boon to our economy.

Yet, one could see Halloween as a fetishization of death, instilling the concept of murder and fear in people's minds, as blatantly depicted in the numerous slasher-horror films that come out on this day. One could see Halloween as an opportunity to get drunk and vandalize the neighborhood, which is ironic considering that October is "Safety Awareness Month." One could also view Halloween as a huge waste of money, for a single night of carousing in the dark.

Happy Halloween, or not.

Racial Implications and Other Issues Addressed in Alison Gold's "Chinese Food"

Here's the link to the video: http://youtu.be/wWLhrHVySgA

I never thought that I would be this insulted, especially from the music video of a twelve-year-old. 

Well, I have. 

"Chinese Food," which premiered on Youtube on October 15, 2013, stars newcomer Alison Gold singing a song about, who would've thunk, Chinese food. It is produced by Ark Music Factory, the same company who produced the infamous "Friday" back in 2011.

Trust me. If you think that Rebecca Black's music video was bad, you ain't seen nothing yet. 

At least "Friday" kept it universal, celebrating the juvenile antics of the end of the school week by "partyin' partyin'" in a mosh pit with a bunch of other hyperactive preteens and a grown man. It was all "fun fun fun fun." No instances of race. No, not bad at all...

But "Chinese Food...", oh man, where to start...?

Shall we start with the fact that this is a Caucasian girl singing a song about Chinese food? Honestly, is she that obsessed with Asian cuisine? I don't think I've met anyone, even an Asian, who loved it so much that they would write and record a song about it. Unless it was a parody. If you want to see a worthwhile music video, check on Jimmy Wong's "Chinese Food." Link is here: http://youtu.be/NUDsXdgw9Dw

I almost feel bad for this Alison Gold girl; I don't think she even wanted to sing a song about Chinese food. Maybe she would have preferred something much more relevant to her life experiences, like frolicking in the meadows or partying with the "cool kids." Even sing about "Saturday," for Heaven's sake.

Furthermore, what the hell is with the subtitles?! Chinese, French, Spanish, Japanese, Russian, just to name a few. This is about Chinese food, so I can probably understand Chinese subtitles, but what is the purpose of the rest of them? Are you trying to promote racial diversity, Ark Factory? 'Cause mixing subtitles is completely impertinent. IRRELEVANT.

Let's open up with the actual music video: here's Alison, entering a Chinese restaurant, run by an Asian girl who looks no older than she is. Isn't the legal age to work in America sixteen? Talk about child-labor laws.

She sits at the table, with all of the food. She got her "bro-cco-li," her "chic-ken wings" (which look more like regular, American-styled ones), and her "wonton soup" (which she stirs with chopsticks. I would think that it would be easier to eat it with a spoon, but to each their own).

Fortune cookies are not Chinese! They're American. But that's not the main point. Although fortune cookie fortunes are often nonsensical, this particular one, "You will find a new friend," is horrible, because she does find a new friend. And it turns out to be a large pedo-panda bear sitting right behind her, with the fortune "You will find a new friend too." This is prophetical, guys. A frightening one.

And so Alison plays. With her large, pedo-panda bear friend, who unmasks himself as no other than Patrice Wilson, the same guy who rapped in Rebecca Black's "Friday." Now in "Friday," I could be convinced that Wilson was a chauffeur, maybe even a bouncer, for Rebecca's "fun fun fun fun" party, but this time, he pretty much transformed into a pedophile. His sweet-and-sour sauce-stained smile, the fact that he plays tickle with Alison in the meadows, and his presence at a preteen slumber party, just scared the bejeezus out of me.

"Panda Express." No. Just no.

Finally, the conflation between Chinese and Japanese culture manifests itself in the final dance number (which is so pathetically choreographed that I facepalmed). Not only are Alison and the dancers wearing kimonos, which are from Japan, but some of them are in white face and makeup, resembling that of geishas. Also Japanese. Get your cultures straight!

I really hope that this is a joke. This is just too surreal and insulting to even exist. What was Ark Music Factory thinking when they put this out? With all of the horrible music videos produced after the "Friday" fiasco (i.e. "Mass Text," "Asian Girlz"), perhaps the company was trying to piggyback on the success by generating a crappy video that they know is crappy, hoping to rake in the cash. Shame on you.

My Fear

If you think that this entry is a list of quirky or bizarre personal fears, then I politely ask you to go find some other blog to entertain you. Because this is not it.

This idea of expressing an issue that I have been struggling with recently occurred to me Friday night, while alone in my dorm room. In my opinion, the combination of silence and the aesthetics of a single lamp illuminating the pitch-black room works wonders for one's introspection. Add it with some ambient jungle EDM tracks and you got yourself some thinking juice.

I had always been (and still am) that person who does not mind being alone for long periods of time. In fact, I do not mind silence, the fact that I had the room all to myself when my roommates were away. I work well alone, on projects, papers, any schoolwork that I was given. I work out alone, I (often) eat alone.

Alone.

A-lone.

A loner.

To me, these words connote other words. Negative ones. Dark. Bleak. Isolated. Hopeless. Pathetic. As humans, we are suppose to be sociable beings, thriving and developing in the midst of throngs and throngs of people. We are suppose to crave each other's company: love, instead of ambivalence, cuddle, instead of push away.

However, is this biology or sociology speaking? Is there something innate in us or is it a social construct that drives us to seek relationships? Perhaps both? I am not going to answer this, because one, this is not an English class, and two, I don't know.

I see it everywhere, especially as a college student: the first-week-of-school rush to make new friends, dining hall bonding sessions, work-out buddies. Things that, as a returning student, I do not give much of a shit about. Three years at this institution, and I am already jaded and cynical. And I ask myself: why am I like this? Am I suppose to be like this?

For most of my youth, I found it difficult to make new friends. I am a follower, not a leader. I never want my words to be the last  in conversations. In primary school, friendships were so easy to obtain, effortless. Self-consciousness didn't even exist back then; when you see your peers playing in the sandbox, you just join them. No questions asked. They accepted the fact that you joined them. 

Now, instead of having friendships handed to you on a neat, clean platter, you actually have to work for them. Meaning, staying in touch via text, Facebook, instant messaging, and other social media outlets. Making the effort to create events and socials. Actually trying, for a change. Because if you don't, you risk letting go.

It's hypocritical, that I desire these relationships, but that I don't want to try to hold on to them. No, that's a lie. Rephrase: it's hypocritical that I desire these relationships, but that I censor myself from ascertaining them.

WHY?

Well, that's my fear.

I fear rejection. I fear odd looks and things spoken behind my back. "Ooh, she's weird," or "I think I'll avoid her." Yet, I also fear my friendships dying off. From a matter of aspects: time, distance, miscommunication, loss of interests and commonalities. Or the lack thereof.

That is why I felt the need to protect myself. From rejection, from friendships dying off. I act nonchalant, because I don't want to show you that I care. About you, about our relationship. I avoid socials and going out, because I know that they eventually have to end. I think and I imagine and I cry about the possible consequences of my actions. I hold on to my friendships by not appearing to hold on at all.

It's a dead end. I must realize that. I'm still looking and discovering myself in relation to others. Eventually, I may find it, or maybe I won't, ever. But this fear is not going to define me. At least, not forever. As I continue to navigate my twenties and perspectives on college culture, I aspire to overcome it.

My Childhood, Day Seven: The Thrill of "Kaizokou" Life in "One Piece"

*I have decided to dedicate this week (one blog entry a day) to a revisiting of my favorite and most memorable aspects from childhood. Whether they were manifested in cartoons, films, or television shows, their memories have continued to stay with me, even long after I got older and abandoned them for other "mature" forms of entertainment. This is not to say that they have shaped or changed my life in dramatic ways, but they have served as feel-good reminders for the simple, good ol' days. It's not bad to reminisce, not at all, and I think that it is important to do so. Nostalgia, I believe, is like meditation: simplifying complicated matters in adulthood into a single breath of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

I remember getting hooked on One Piece when I was around 11 or 12 years old. I was going through this crazy manga phase where I would just consume Japanese graphic novels like soda. Day after day, night after night. I read the mangas, I watched the animes. No dubs- I made sure that it was kept as organically as possible.

Although One Piece is shonen (geared towards males), I didn't care. Personally, I felt that it appealed universally, with its themes of camaraderie, hakuna matata outlook, and adventure on the high seas. There may have been some blood and violence involved, but no gore. There might also have been swearing and bare skin shed, but not excessively. For all I cared, it was PG-13. And that was completely fine in my preteen eyes.

For those who are not familiar with the story, One Piece is about a group of pirates (known as kaizokou in Japanese) who embarks on a perpetual, timeless adventure through the Grand Line (an area considered dangerous, but adventurous all the while) to obtain the much-coveted "One Piece," a treasure unbeknownst to mankind. Along the way, the pirates encounter fellow pirates, new lands and enemies, and lots and lots of action. The group is led by Monkey D. Luffy, who as a child ate a Devil's Fruit (the Gum-Gum Fruit) which causes him to develop super-elastic powers, but as a consequence is unable to swim. Ironies aside, Luffy sets out to become the greatest pirate of them all.

Monkey D. Luffy.

I first read the manga, then watched the anime. Both were wonderful. The manga was chock-full of vivid illustrations and actions. The characters may not have looked "pretty" (compared to shojo art), but the caricature aspects made the graphic novel as a whole facetiously entertaining. It didn't matter that Sanji had a curly eyebrow and Usopp looked like an overgrown monkey; each character had their quirks, which paired perfectly with the easygoing and fun nature of the story. That, as well as Luffy's happy-go-lucky demeanor, taught me not to take life too seriously. I would marathon the anime series with my sister over the weekends and during the summer, watching the episodes back to back, even eating breakfast and lunch in front of the computer screen (the episodes were burned onto a CD. Legally or illegally, I don't know). The viewing sessions got so intense, that we once watched a total of 11 episodes in one sitting! Considering that each episode was 23 minutes, that's over four hours! Imagine what could one do with all of that time.

By far, my favorite character was Zoro. Roronoa Zoro. He was the epitome of cool, with his muscular physique, three swords, and I-don't-give-a-crap attitude towards life. Even his green hair was pretty rad. Everyone wanted to be like him, wielding his three weapons like a bamf and cutting through anything in his path, including rocks and steel. I think I sort of fell in love with him.

Zoro... <3

Sadly, my affair with One Piece eventually came to a stop. As I hit my mid-teens, I gradually lost track of the series and filled my day with other sources of entertainment, including cooking shows, world news, and other, more "adult" programs. The last arc that I recall watching from the series was the one on Skypeia, where the Going Merry, Luffy's ship, gets propelled to the sky and the crew gets acquainted with the inhabitants up there. That must have been so long ago by now. And because it has been years since I last watched One Piece, I am discouraged from returning to it. Even if I dedicated myself to watching it everyday, it would take months, maybe a year, to catch up. Additionally, with my "responsibilities" of being an adult (i.e. college, work, etc.), I simply do not have time. It's very unfortunate. Yet, the experience has left me with valuable memories and lessons. One Piece has taught me fearlessness, to push yourself amid the pain and for that goal, however unattainable it may seem. It has given me the concept of camaraderie, with friends new and old- having their backs through good and bad times and making every experience with them quality. These lessons may sound cheesy and clichéd, but their optimistic energy is infectious. We should try to strive for this mentality, in order to live a fruitful life.

That sums up my week of childhood nostalgia. I hope that the blogs have inspired you to recall your favorite memories and pick up the lessons that you may have learned. Thank you for reading!

My Childhood, Day Six: '90s Nickelodeon Cartoons

*I have decided to dedicate this week (one blog entry a day) to a revisiting of my favorite and most memorable aspects from childhood. Whether they were manifested in cartoons, films, or television shows, their memories have continued to stay with me, even long after I got older and abandoned them for other "mature" forms of entertainment. This is not to say that they have shaped or changed my life in dramatic ways, but they have served as feel-good reminders for the simple, good ol' days. It's not bad to reminisce, not at all, and I think that it is important to do so. Nostalgia, I believe, is like meditation: simplifying complicated matters in adulthood into a single breath of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

I am a '90s kid. Yes, I am a product of Atari, Beanie Babies, Sock 'em Boppers, and Tamagotchis (although I had never played with one before). I remember when baggy pants were in style and belts were worn on almost everything. That Backstreet Boys and N'SYNC took the whole world by storm, long before One Direction did. That floppy discs were required to back up information and that shows had to be recorded on VHS. Sayings like "loser, loser double loser" and "that's so cool...NOT!" were used ubiquitously by youth everywhere. Good times.

Fashion was so cool back then.

Yet, one particular aspect that I remember clearly were the '90s cartoons on Nickelodeon. This was when Nickelodeon was the number one most-watched channel among children and teenagers. Nickelodeon reigned supreme. Nickelodeon was king.

From the ridiculous to the great, these cartoons filled up a large portion of my childhood days. Back before the laptop replaced the television, I sat in front of the boob tube, every afternoon and evening, and watched the latest episodes from my favorite shows.

"You dumb babies!" 

Rugrats was one of the many that I watched. It is amazing to think that these infants, these toddlers, have such wacky adventures, all from the confines of their imagination. I still remember the ingenious way that Tommy Pickles would unlatch the playpen's lock with his trusty screwdriver, thus opening up the possibilities of fun to the whole world. I would get angry at Angelica Pickles for being such a brat, trying to spoil the fun and taking advantage of both the children and adults. It's funny, because I associated the name "Angelica" with negative thoughts (although it is not the case with all of the "Angelicas" in the world). Yet, in a way, she kind of grows on you, with her eccentricities and love for her doll Cynthia (which was pretty damn ugly). 

"Football head!"

Another show that has had a significant impact on my childhood memories was Hey Arnold! Just like Rugrats, Hey Arnold! featured a large group of kids, each with their own weird characteristics and traits. Besides the fact that Arnold, the titular character, had a football-shaped head, it wasn't until I was older that I realized Arnold's plaid "skirt" was not actually a skirt at all. It is just a jacket tied around his waist. Whoops. But it was Helga who was bad-ass. Hate her or love her, she made fun of "football head" because she was in love with him. Her shrine to Arnold both irritated and amused me. Yet, unlike Rugrats, the show had a darker tone to it. It was evident in the streets, the neighborhood where Arnold grows up in. It is very urban, with high buildings and concrete streets, as well as the ominous streetlights at night. Arnold lives in a small apartment with his grandparents, as well as with his neighbors, who come from a diversity of backgrounds, including Oskar from an unnamed Eastern European country and Mr. Hyunh from Vietnam. This pays homage to the melting pot culture in many large cities, including New York and Los Angeles. Despite the dark, more mature feel to the show, Hey Arnold! addressed significant issues about growing up, fitting in, and family.

Aside from those two shows, the other programs that I watched on Nickelodeon either were not as enjoyable or I just did not watch them on a regular basis. The quality of these shows were not bad, though. I acknowledge The Wild Thornberries for trying to interest children in wildlife, and found it very clever that the creators named Eliza's chimpanzee Darwin. Rocket Power was kind of cool, in its chillaxing and sports-centered concept. But I found it implausible that nine and ten-year-olds could perform triple 360-flips on their skateboard, bike, and so forth. Ah, well. One can only dream. I also vaguely recall watching several episodes of CatDog, which was just annoying, and Doug, which I can't remember being about.

As we venture into the 2000s, 2010s, and onwards, the '90s are becoming a distant memory. Reruns are seldom aired on television anymore. I have replaced my daily dose of cartoons with live-action programs online. Growing up is bittersweet, but with the immensity of websites and fandoms dedicated to the '90s, we have plenty of opportunities to revisit our childhood from time to time, even if it is only figuratively.

My Childhood, Day Five: The Power of Choice Represented in Disney's "Mulan"

*I have decided to dedicate this week (one blog entry a day) to a revisiting of my favorite and most memorable aspects from childhood. Whether they were manifested in cartoons, films, or television shows, their memories have continued to stay with me, even long after I got older and abandoned them for other "mature" forms of entertainment. This is not to say that they have shaped or changed my life in dramatic ways, but they have served as feel-good reminders for the simple, good ol' days. It's not bad to reminisce, not at all, and I think that it is important to do so. Nostalgia, I believe, is like meditation: simplifying complicated matters in adulthood into a single breath of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

I think it is common knowledge that Disney=childhood. We are brought up with the classics, including "Snow White," "Aladdin," and "The Lion King," as well as with Disney Channel shows and merchandise. Most importantly, we are raised on Disneyland, the so-called "Happiest Place on Earth." I have yet to know someone who has not been to Disneyland before. But because of Disney, we are taught to believe that any dream is possible, that any obstacle is surmountable through perseverance, originality, and audacity. They are not bad aspects (not at all!), but I feel that Disney contradicts itself in some cases, particularly with its princesses.

Don't get me wrong. I adore Princess Aurora from "Sleeping Beauty." Although she was naive and a bit ditsy, her careful nature is reminiscent of our own simple childhood, devoid of responsibility and all about enjoying life. However, I felt that the story, in addition to those of Snow White's, Belle's, Ariel's, Jasmine's, and Pocahontas's were passive affairs. Basically, these princesses waited for their princes to come and save them from the rut routine of their lives. They do not choose to take charge. Definitely not one for the feminists. 

Also, if you want to get into racial politics, the Disney princesses has been predominately Caucasian. It was not until the introduction of Jasmine in 1992's "Aladdin" that the company started to diversify with its characters. Yet, some race critics have slammed the images of these characters. Some have blasted the portrayal of Jasmine, who was deemed too "sexualized" as a role model for young girls. Pocahontas has also been criticized for exoticizing Native Americans, with the character wearing so-called "traditional Native American" (but revealing) clothing and doing all of these spirit-calling rituals in the film.

However, with Mulan, you find something different. Although she has not been considered an official Disney princess, her actions and heroism earns her a level of respect, in my book. The film never planned to tell the actual story of Hua Mulan, the legend in the Chinese poem "The Ballad of Mulan." Like the case with "Pocahontas," Disney meant to bring light to these different cultures, giving the audiences a glimpse, but certainly not a historical lesson.

Reception for the character of Mulan has been majorly positive, praising her character as independent and heroic. Instead of waiting for the prince to save her, she saves him, along with their entire kingdom. Simply put, Mulan kicks ass.

I remember first watching the movie in theaters, but I didn't stay for the whole thing, because I was crying for my mom to take us home. I don't know whether it was the loud, bombastic score or the fighting scenes, but I felt afraid. I was a weird kid.

But as I got older, I watched it again, and in its entirety. The more times that I watched, the more that I appreciated it. My appreciation with "Mulan" evolved in several stages: I appreciated the entertainment value at age eight. I appreciated the cultural aesthetics at age eleven. Finally, I appreciated the feminism/women empowerment issue that the film hoped to portray, at age fourteen. I learned something new from each viewing. It made me question my status as a young, Asian-American female: should I choose to pursue my passion, even if it involves risks and defies tradition? Or should I honor the wishes of my family, who wish nothing but the best for me? There is a cultural clash between these two, and there are nuances to both sides of the debate. What "Mulan" presents to the female audience is choice, which had not been seen in previous works.

All seriousness aside, I enjoyed the entertainment value of the film as well. As a child, you don't watch a movie for the sake of critiquing it. You watch it because it is fun. Comic reliefs, including Mushu and Mulan's grandma, are worth a laugh, and the songs are ridiculously catchy ("Someday I'll/make a man/out of you..."). I have the soundtrack on my iPod. Sometimes I'll imagine that I'm Lea Salonga and (attempt to) belt out "Reflection" like a bamf. But never successfully.