Asian-English teatime with the bff sister

This evening, by a wonderful unfolding of events, I ended up having tea with my best friend’s little sister.  As my best friend’s little sister, she holds a sweet spot in my heart.  What’s more, the fact that she’s the first person I’ve seen go from little kid, singing nursery-rhyme-type songs, to a mature young adult (and soon full-blown adult), makes that spot even sweeter.

As we sat in the tapioca teahouse, drinking our warm (Taiwanese style, I think – at least, that’s what a friend of mine saw constantly while in Taiwan, and which we haven’t seen much elsewhere) bubble tea, our attention somehow turned to the menu on the wall.  Naturally, we hadn’t thought anything special of it when we actually were looking at the menu to order earlier on, but it was suddenly relevant to our conversation, so our attention turned to it.  She is studying Mandarin this year (since August), and I’ve just moved here from Japan.  So, we have some common ground on understanding Chinese characters.  (For those who don’t know, Japanese kind of stole the characters from Chinese, and adapted them a bit, so loads of them look exactly or almost exactly the same and have the same or very similar meanings.)

We joyfully pointed out that “ice” was on the end of each name in the ‘Snowy Drink’ category, and that “little” was next to one other character on the “Snacks” sections – likely ‘little meal’ or ‘little food’.  Something like that.  And then we discussed how we were scouring the menu, picking out little pieces that we understood.  It was like a fun little puzzle that we were putting together, piece by piece… one that we know will take months, even years, but the timing of which doesn’t seem to bother us in the slightest.  We’re just excited that we’re able to make the little sense of it all that we already can.  And we aren’t even using the same language to do it, technically, making it simultaneously that much sillier and that much more awesome.

So, we got to enjoy one another’s company and be nerdy language-lovers together, while sipping warm asian versions of English tea (Earl Grey) on a cold, cold night (for Houston, anyway).  Blessings abound when open our minds and schedules to them, it seems.  And I am grateful for this one in particular.  🙂

Post-a-day 2017

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Singing, Showering, and liking you better…

Today, I sent a message to my best friend that read, “For some reason, I regularly think about messaging you when I go to the bathroom”

Her response was prompt and simple.  “Lol,” followed by, “You like me so much better when youre naked”

“Duh,” was my casual response.

You see, the whole thing started back in college.  Freshman year, I was Skype-ing with Christine one day, probably early morning.  I had gone into the common room to chat with her, but, since we were in an all-girls dormitory, and it was too early for visitors to be around, I wasn’t fully dressed (probably just a t-shirt and underwear).  When we started the call, she let me know that a friend of hers was with her, and that it was a guy (because it was already afternoon in Cambridge, England, so it was normal to be hanging out with people already there). So, I had to go put on some more clothing before we turned on the camera.  (At least, I think that was the case… she might have just checked to make sure I was properly clothed, because I regularly would be not fully clothed.  Either way, the next part did happen.)  When I commented about this, the guy friend of hers made a comment about liking someone so much better naked (I forget if it was about Christine liking me, or what, but it was totally silly, and seemed such an odd comment.)  We both were lacking in understanding at first, but he explained that there was an actual song (by Ida Maria), and that that was the line the girl used in it.  (See, it made sense and wasn’t actually weird at all.)

The chorus goes like this:

But I won’t mind
If you take me home
Come on, take me home
I won’t mind
if you take off all your clothes
Come on, take them off
‘Cause I like you so much better when you’re naked
I like me so much better when you’re naked
I like you so much better when you’re naked
I like me so much better when you’re naked

We found it hilarious.  We found the actual song and music video, and fell in a sort of this is silly and utterly ridiculous, but I still love it kind of love with the song.

I shared it with my hallway neighbor, who played guitar, and we tried playing it a bit on the guitar.  I eventually played it for Christine one day on Skype.  My greatest, proudest achievement with the song, however, was the time I snuck into the bathrooms (they were shared, and had loads of stalls and multiple showers) one day, just after Jessie, the neighbor, had gone in to shower.  Once I knew she was actually in the shower, showering, I walked into the showering area (mind you, not into her stall, just in the showering section of the bathroom), and began playing the song on guitar, and singing it to her.  I could hear her snorting, gurgling, guffawing laugher emitting from the shower stall as I sang and played.  It was spectacular for the both of us.  I shared the story with my best friend, too, and she loved it.*

So, the song has always held a special little place in our hearts, minds, and lives, all three of us.  Everyone else probably just thinks we’re crazy, whenever they overhear us mentioning or quoting or singing it.  😛

Here’s a link to the music video.

 

*This reminds me… I sang to a friend of mine in Japan while she showered one night.  We were chatting on the phone, just hanging out one night, after we’d both gotten internet, and so didn’t have to hang up after every five minutes anymore, and she really needed to shower, but we weren’t ready to end our conversation/hanging out.  So, she set the phone to the side on speakerphone, and I sang to her while she showered.  I had been humming and singing quietly already anyway, so what was the difference if I just did it a little louder, right?  It was spectacular, of course.  Then a night or few later, when I mentioned to another friend that this had happened, he complained that I didn’t sing for him and that that certainly wasn’t fair.  And so I sang to him over the phone… and he fell asleep.  😛  Spectacular in a different sort of way, I guess, but still spectacular.  🙂

Post-a-day 2017

 

Granny at heart?

I’ve never really been one for people my own age.  I’m not sure what it is about me or about them, but I just have never much meshed with people my own age.  A recent party was no exception in proving this.

See, I was attending this party, and there were people of various ages.  The handful around my own age all got on really well with one another, in a few groups that all would mix and mingle off and on with one another.  I was not part of any of them, really, at any point, though various individuals greeted me briefly throughout the evening.  Near the end of the party, they all started going on about whether everyone else was going to the afterparty.  They weren’t really asking the older folks; just the youngish people, the ones around my own age.

Except, in all of the inviting and discussing, no one ever mentioned the after party to me. And it wasn’t as though it had been announced or anything, and so I had heard all about it, and everyone was invited.  No.  Someone commented publicly the day before that there would be an afterparty, almost in a joking manner, yes.  But, at the actual party, it was a one-on-one or one-on-two topic of discussion.  And I was never included in any of those small groups.  I only heard the, “Are you going to the afterparty?” questions posed among friends as I passed by them.  Multiple times.

And it’s not like I really wanted to go to the afterparty, anyway.  They were going to some bar, it sounded like, and in the opposite direction of my home (which was already half an hour away).  Neither of those ideas appealed to me.  Plus, throw in the factor that I’m not exactly wanted there, and I definitely am less than thrilled at the idea of the afterparty.

The thing is, I wanted to be invited.  It hurt ever so slightly that I wasn’t even invited.  That I never expected them to invite me made it hurt that much more.  I spent most of the party chatting with people quite older than I am (at least a decade or two), and I loved that.  It felt almost like I actually belonged in that group.  But I still am a tiny bit disappointed that the my-age people seem not to like me.  I’m not sure if they dislike me, or if they think I dislike them or something.  I am, at the very least, unimportant to them. And, while I don’t really like them all too much, anyway, – I don’t dislike them, let’s be clear – I would invite them along to something, if I were doing something tied to that group of people.  I wouldn’t exclude them.  I don’t wish the feeling of exclusion on anyone.

Anyway, the bottom line is: I really just don’t get on easily with people my own age most of the time.  This party the other night emphasized the fact that this has not changed as I have aged.

Post-a-day 2017

Writing, math in life…

I’ve been on the phone with my college flatmate tonight, talking about writing.  Apparently, I actually do have some fun and crazy ideas that would be really interesting for people to read – she didn’t even understand how I got to the sorts of ideas that regularly come to mind, simply as the normal order of thinking in my head.  So, I guess that’s not so normal as I’d thought it to be, having such ideas so casually and regularly.

The thing is, I haven’t set up sitting down to do it.  Not yet, anyway, and not for long enough.  I’ve noticed that writing at night is not the way to go for me.  For other things, sure – I can do loads of physical movement at night.  For writing, however, I’m next to hopeless, it feels.  I don’t feel much like writing anything in the first place at night, and so I struggle to find something to write, and then I make loads of errors in what I do finally write.  It just isn’t a good combination.

Speaking of combinations, I was talking with students in my geometry class today about how math can be useful in life in cool ways.  One example was from a show my stepdad watches about the TV show “The Walking Dead”.  It’s sort of a behind-the-scenes sort of show, and this particular bit that I saw was talking about everything they had to do in order to set up a car crash.  It was really cool, seeing everything broken down, all of the things they had to organize to make it work.  The best part, perhaps, was seeing how it was pure geometry and physics that made the crash work flawlessly.

The other example was in a little photo shoot I was witnessing (and had to abandon for distress), in which the photographer said that they were supposed to be sitting in a Christmas tree formation.  But she didn’t do anything to make this happen.  She didn’t even seem to know what needed to be done for this shape to happen.  (The people in charge definitely seemed to be lacking in general crowd control and effective instructions arenas, too.)  It occurred to me that she never considered just getting the number of people – I’d have done it ahead of time, but on the sport would have worked just finely, too – expected in the photo, and dividing them up into the necessary number of people per row, based on the exact shape desired and the number of rows available.  I was about to begin the calculations as I watched, but then realized that no one was going to listen to me anyway, so it was better if I just left the stressful situation, since that was the only thing I actually could do in the situation.  So, I left.  But it proved to be a good example to the kids in class at how math is present in life in ways that people don’t even consider.  Had the photographer thought about math, – and it is likely that she didn’t, because she wasn’t very confident in or in love with math while in school – the whole photo shoot could have gone loads better than it did.  And they could have had the Christmas tree, and even decorated with “lights” or an outline, using the different shirt and jacket colors present and available.  But she didn’t, so none of that happened.

 

Post-a-day 2017

A letter to Santa and a new perspective

I wrote a letter to Santa today.  Well, I typed it.  I 21st Century wrote a letter to Santa.  I felt a bit odd at first, realizing how long it had been since I had written him, as well as the fact that I always just asked for things from him, but never offered him much, and never really got to know him.  I realize that this is Santa, but it calls to mind how I might relate to others in my life.  Have I taken the time I normally would want to take to get to know someone, or have I learned just to ask for things, because of that someone’s understood role in my life?  How can I turn my unintentional and unnoticed selfish into selfless in my relationships with others?

 

Post-a-day 2017

My well-worn boots

Tomorrow, I am to wear boots.  They are cowboy boots.  I got them in Vienna, while I lived there a few years ago.  For my best friend’s wedding, the bridal party all wore cowboy boots.  The night before the wedding, we had a fire outside in the cool, January first air.  I had my foot resting on the edge of the ring around the fire pit, not realizing that it was a metal pit (as opposed to a ring around a dirt pit), and the edge was connected to the part holding the fire.  I felt a stickiness when I adjusted my footing, and checked my boot to see what its cause was.  No, it was not tree sap, but rather the melting of the sole of my boot.

To this day, I recall the incident every time I think of the boots, and I smile goofily (or so it feels to me, anyway) when I see the deep line going across the forward sole of my one boot.  I am also grateful that I noticed it when I had, and that the sole still remains entirely functional, despite the sort of gash – I could have burned my foot if it’d gone through the sole much farther!

Just an interesting story about my boots, I suppose.  🙂  Oh, and they’re from a store called something like “New York”.

 

Post-a-day 2017

Song chat

When we were kids, my cousins and I occasionally would speak song lyrics to one another, as though they were lines in our conversation.  There wasn’t much of a goal, besides turning songs into a conversation, but it was way fun.  “Copacabana” and “Baby Got Back” are two notable songs we used for the game/pastime.  I miss it, actually…

Just give it a try, using a song whose lyrics you and a friend or friends know well.  As silly and simple as it may sound, it can be way fun.

Post-a-day 2017