HAPPY EASTER

A Blessed Easter to you and your family.
The photo above shows a bakset of various Easter eggs we have purchased over the years or were given to us from my husband parents. I think the one on the top right (with the painting of the Nativity) was from a Polish gift shop in Hamtramck, Michigan.

This year we decided to color and decorate the eggs. It was a tradition we used to do when we first got married. You could tell the Chinese character (Love) and the lousy drawing of the arch was done by me. My husband tried to draw a Polish eagle but gave up after 2 tries as the hot melting wax would not cooperate. My husband gave me the little sheep (below) to add to my beannies collection.

The snow started coming down around 8:30 a.m. as we were getting ready for 9:00 a.m. Mass. The church already full by the time we got there. The snow stopped when we came out of church. We saw the lines of people waiting to attend 10:30 a.m. Mass. My husband did a good job getting out of the parking lot with cars coming and leaving. The sun came out around 2:00 p.m. but the snow came down again around 3:30 p.m. You could tell from the photo below that the snowflakes were very large but there was no accumulation because the weather was in the upper 40s. What an interesting day with the snow falling and stopping every other hour!

A RIVER RUNS THRU IT

The flooding from the Meramec River has made national news this week. I drove to 141 and I-44 to take a few photos and to let my adoring fans know that I am ok. Our area was not affected by the flood even though we are only 15 minute drive from Valley Park and Fenton, the towns along the Meramec River. The above photo shows the road (141) being closed to traffic. This is the route my husband usually takes to work, staying on 141 all the way to Arnold, Missouri. On Friday, he had to turn around and took another route to get to I-44 instead. On the way home, traffic was so back-up on 44 that he had to take Highway 270, then tried to get around by going thru the outer roads.

Looking at the above photo, you could not tell where the road was supposed to be or where the soccer field was. The photo below showed how high the water was. Thankfully the levee held up and from the latest news, the water has started to recede. When we were getting to move to St. Louis in 1994, a co-worker questioned our move, "Why would you move to St. Louis? The town just got flooded last year (1993)", he commented.

From the photo below, you could see where part of the road was and the part where the road completely under water. My Mom called because she was concern for our safety. Even though she has visited us twice, she would not remember or understand the distance from our home to where the flooding takes place. Most of the time the media report events occurred in St. Louis, those who don't know the area well would assume that the entire area is affected.

THE WALDORF

When you're at the Waldorf have a "smile" and charge it up to me;
Mention my name ev'ry place you go, as 'round the town you roam'
Wish you'd call on my gal, now remember, old pal, when you get back home ...

Last Christmas, my husband wanted to stay one night at the famous Waldorf-Astoria Hotel during our visit to New York City. In 1993, my former boss (RJS) in Michigan sent me on a business trip attending a conference sponsored by the New York Times on developing new ventures in Viet Nam. The company paid for an overnight accomodation at the Waldorf-Astoria where the conference was held. So this would be my second time and the first time for my husband staying at the Waldorf. We checked into the hotel in the afternoon of Christmas Eve, then walked over to Radio City for a wonderful performance of the Rockettes Christmas Spectacular and after the show, slowly moved thru the sea of people at Rockefeller Center to get back to the Waldorf. We enjoyed a nice dinner at Oscar's. The next morning we again had breakfast (a very expensive meal) at Oscar's. Good thing we had reservation as there was a long line of people willing to pay $20 for an omelet! After Mass at St. Patrick's Catheral, we went back to Bensonhurst, Brooklyn to celebrate Christmas with the family.

This is the Waldorf Towers, the other side where we would never be able to afford a suite, where most rooms are bigger than most New York City apartments (information from a book I read about New York City Landmarks). The Towers include butler service, kitchenette and your every needs would be fulfilled at a touch of a button. This is where kings and queens and presidents stay and where poor people like us could only dream of a taste of a very tiny drop of life of the wealthy class.

This is the view from hotel windows in our room. Actually the windows were very dirty that we could not take good clear photos. The above photo was taken after we were able to open one of the windows. The other window was stuck. We wondered how often the hotel clean these windows.

Guests of the Waldorf Astoria, beware! The cabinet (above) shows the television on the left side and a small refrigerator (below) on the right side. When checking in, guests are given a key to open the mini-bar. Above the refrigerator is a row of four packages of nuts and cookies. Unless you are starving or dying of thirst, you should not consume these items as the small packages are $15-20 each and the drinks (even a can of soda) would cost you $5-15. A 75 cents candy bar from a newspaper stand around the corner will be $3.00 on your bill. Of course, if you are the rich and famous people, please feel free to ignore the pricing as you have plenty of money to spend.

Here I was sleeping in this supposedly fancy comfortable linens and bed, even for just one night, thinking about the hut where my family lived in for a few months in the refugee camp. My brother, Qaptain Qwerty wrote about the bed in Berhala Hut where we did not even have pillows, just some luggage bags stuffed with clothes for use as pillows. There was only one bed, probablly the size of a twin bed. Actually the bed was made of pieces of plywood on sturdy tree logs, very primitive but practical. I remembered differently from what QQ wrote. I remembered Mom, my sister CH, QQ and I shared the bed. Dad, an Uncle and the other brother TL slept on some tarp on the hard dirt floor.

I also thought of the time when we arrived in Singapore by bus from the last refugee location in Indonesia. It was midnight when we finally found an unoccupied place, in front of someone's house. We were trying to arrange for sleeping space in such tight area. A person from the top floor got upset at us for making too much noise, he/she decided to throw a bucket of water down. The water hit the ground and made a splash at us. I never forgot the looks in my Dad's eyes. I saw the pains, I saw my own sorrow drowning in hopelessness. It was as if we began to doubt what we gave up and the horrid journey we encountered to be homeless and endured the humiliation. The ironic thing was it was New Year Eve when people were celebrating and there we were, people without country, without a home. All we had was a piece of paper telling us that we would be in America soon. We were too tired and knew that the best thing was to try to get some sleep. We dreamed of being in America where life would be so much better.

There was already a shower stall with door when Grandma Luck gave us the hut in Berhala Island. The water was stored in a metal drum inside the stall with a scooper to use for getting the water. I don't remember how the water was drained or where the water ran off to, probably a ditch in the back of the hut as QQ stated in his blog. I do remember the well which was very convenient. Later the people in the hut next to us became careless when washing clothes near the well that we had to have a discussion with them.

Below photo shows the spacious marble bathroom with all the normal amenities, soaps, hand lotions, shoe shine kit and some Q-tips! It sure was a long way from the little shower stall in Berhala!

RING RING RINGTONES

Whenever I can't come up with a title or something to write about, I would follow what my brother wrote in his blog. I don't care much for features such as calendar alarm, text message alert on my cell phone and I don't have too many friends, so setting up the ringtones would be just for calls from family members. If I wish to identify the callers by the ringtones, I would organize the ringtones as follows:

Calls from my husband - Do Wah Diddy Diddy (performed by Manfred Mann) because it was the song my husband kept singing on our first date walking around NYC. He said the lyrics "There she was just a-walkin' down the street .... She looked good (looked good), she looked fine (looked fine). Whoa-oh, I knew we was falling in love. I'm hers, she's mine, wedding bells are gonna chime" - was perfect for the story of how we met as I walked into the cafeteria at the United Nations while he and his father were there on their way to Poland, and then how we fell in love and got married.

When we have a disagreement and don't talk to each other, the ringtone would be "Bridge Over Troubled Water" by Simon and Garfunkel!

We like most of Neil Diamond's songs such as Solitary Man, I'm a Believer, Red Red Wine. My husband likes Neil Diamond also because Diamond came from a Polish/Russian family from Brooklyn. My husband said he particularly likes the song America more after he met me because of how my family came to the country. When we went to the concert, a drunken woman in the row behind us kept singing all the songs. We had to politely tell her that we did not pay good money to hear her lousy, off-key singing.
Calls from home, most likely my husband too, would be Homeward Bound by Simon & Garfunkel. We went to their concert and had a great time. I particularly like the song The Sound of Silence. I read that Paul and Art grew up in Forest Hills, Queens, where I lived for about 7 months, renting a basement converted to living space with kitchen and bathroom, for $500 a month. All I had was a small fold-out bed, a desk and a chair to study, a bookcase and a small drawer. I kept most of my clothes in two suitcases the whole time I was living there.


Calls from work - She works hard for her money by Donna Summer or Take this Job and Shove It by Johnny Paycheck (Not his real name but appropriate for this song).

Calls from my brother VL - John Lennon's Beautiful Boys for now. I could switch over to my favorite nephew JL and then I would change to the Peanuts tune for my brother. Or when JL is old enough to have his own phone, the ringtone will be I Love You by Louis Armstrong.

Calls from my Mom would be Love me Tender or any songs from Elvis Presley because he was her heartthrob when she was a young lady in Viet Nam. Elvis was an international well known performer that language, race or cultures was not an issue stopping young women to fall in love with such a handsome and charming man.

For my late father, the song would be Hello from Leonard Richie. The same thing with Dad, although he did not understand much English but the songs by Richie were mellow and the melody was pleasing to the listeners. Also Dad commented that Richie was a well-dressed man and that was important. Dad did not care much for torn shirts, messy hair or colorful clothing on male performers. Dad shoke his head, laughing when my sister and I used to go crazy over Boy George.

Calls from my sister, CH, would be Back to the USA or any songs from the Beatles as CH is very fond of the group and she would pack her bags, move to England if an opportunity comes along at a moment of notice. We had fun at Sir McCartney concert when the tour included St. Louis in the 2002 World Tour. I particularly liked the guitar he used with the Red Wings logo on it. St. Louis Blues hockey fans shouted "boo" when the guitar was shown on the jumbotron.

SOMEBODY IS WATCHING ME

I always feel that somebody's watchin' me
And I have no privacy
I always feel that somebody's watchin' me
Is it just a dream?
Have you ever noticed the cameras outside the building where you work, shop or a government office you just happen to be walking by? The next time you are at the post office, look up and find out how many cameras there are. A local post office I visit regularly has seven cameras and it was only about 1,000 square feet. The above photo shows the two cameras outside the building where I work. I don't know exactly the purpose for these cameras. If a worker from one of the offices in the building was attacked as the person was leaving work, the parking lot was almost empty and it was dark, what would these cameras be good for? Was there someone who monitored the cameras and came out to help stop the attack? Are these cameras real or only to serve as warnings to deter the would-be vandals? Do the workers feel safer or just a false sense of security?

I have shopped at this Wal-Mart many times but I never noticed the sign (above) with the warning "Security Camera In Use". I could see why there is a need for camera in the parking lot in addition to those inside the store to catch shoplifters. The photo below shows a cart (left) that was damaged compared to the one on the right. I asked a worker who was collecting the carts from the corrals but he did not know what caused the damage. It could be that a snow removal operator accidently piled the heavy snow on top of the cart during the snow storm a few weeks ago. Perhaps it was a careless driver that ran into the cart. Or the damage was caused by a woman I saw earlier when she was about two steps from the corral, instead of gently pushing the carts inside the corral, she pushed the cart so hard that it almost fell over, barely gotten inside the corral. Two more steps and the woman would not make the efforts to put the cart inside the corral as a civilized person would have done.

I am sure you have witnessed rage in different forms, road rage, shopping rage, and so many other displays of rage from people who seem to be angry at the whole world. Like the time when I left enough space for two vehicles to merge over to my lane as I saw the traffic lights already turned red. The woman behind me blew her horn to let me know that she did not approve my action. Later, she sped up after moving to the other lane, then slow down enough for me to see the display of her "finger" and with her angry contorted face mouthing the F word! I wish she saw the smile on my face and heard what I said, "Peace be with you".

GIVE MY REGARDS TO BROADWAY

Give my regards to Broadway,
remember me to Herald Square,
Tell all the gang at Forty-Second Street,
that I will soon be there;

Over the years my husband and I have attended most of the well-known Boardway shows such as Phantom of the Opera, Cats, 42nd Street, Miss Saigon and many others. One side of the wall in our basement are displays of the playbills and ticket stubs from the shows we saw in New York, Chicago, St. Louis and London, England. The first time when my husband came to New York to visit me in 1988, we saw an off-Broadway show called "Nunsense". Either we did not have any money to pay for tickets to a Broadway show or we could not get tickets since we did not plan in advance. Subsequently we managed to see at least one show each time we came to New York. We remember fondly the time when we just walked up to the window at the Imperial Theatre and asked if there were any tickets for Les Miserables that afternoon. We were surprised that not only there were tickets available but at reasonable price. We were more surprised when we were shown to the box seats next to the stage. What a pleasant treat!

The same happened when we purchased tickets to see Miss Saigon at the Auditorium Theatre in Chicago. Again, it was a suprised treat when we were led by the usher to the second box seats to the right of the stage. It was extra special watching the scene when the helicopter landed on the roof of the U.S. Embassy to provide airlift to all the poor Vietnamese before the Fall of Saigon in April 1975. (Of course, there were no candy thrown down to the audience - hah - please see the entry "First Love" for this inside joke.) Miss Saigon was a typical love story of an European man and an Asian woman whose sole purpose in life was waiting to be rescued by the white knight and in the end willingly give up her life as proof of her undying love. After the show, as we were leaving the theater, my husband said something that was so funny causing me to laugh outloud. It was comical that I, an Asian woman laughing, unmoved by the sad love story while a couple of Caucasian women wiping away their tears.

Did you ever see two Yankees part upon a foreign shore
When the good ship is just about to start for Old New York once more?

We were the two Yankees on foreign shore when we attended the show "Whistle Down the Wind" at the Aldwych Theatre in London, England. It was interesting to listen to British actors trying to speak English with a southern accent since the characters were based on a story in Louisiana. The mask below (left corner) was purchased after we saw the Lion King at Fox Theatre in St. Louis. We also saw the show Chicago in St. Louis. I said to my husband that our next trip to Chicago in addition to a hockey game between the Chicago Blackhawks and the other Original Six, we should also see the show Chicago as it is only fitting to see Chicago in Chicago!
Most of the shows we saw were at Fox Theatre in midtown St. Louis. It is a beautiful theater and a lot of efforts were put into the renovation. Somehow it does not create the same feeling for me compared to the theaters in New York City. We paid $75 per ticket for The Producers and our seats were second row from the back. I was so upset and my husband still teased me about my reaction and comment to the usher, "These are lousy seats for the amount of money we paid for the tickets". We almost got thrown out for disrupting the performance - just kidding!

Whisper of how I'm yearning to mingle with the old time throng;

Give my regards to old Broadway and say that I'll be there ere long.

Even though my husband questioned why I kept taking photos at every turn when we were in New York last December, I am glad I captured the snapshot of the Yellow M&M in a kind of dancing mode and the street sign "Broadway" as the photo is perfect for this entry. The photo below show the Winter Garden current performances of Mamma Mia! We saw the show "Cats" before the last curtain at Winter Garden. Taking photos and writing about what I saw have helped me be more aware of the world around me and give new meanings to the phrase "live each moment at its fullest".

I LOVE LUCY

Without saying, my readers know that this entry is not about the popular American television comedy starring Lucille Ball aka Lucy Ricardo and her Cuban-American husband Ricky (Desi Arnaz). This is about Lucy van Pelt, a bossy, crabby little girl in the comic strip Peanuts. The drawing below reminds me of the time when my little brother VL forgot to bring chalk to class. It was in Viet Nam and all first graders practiced writing using white chalk on a small black board. VL had to rush out of his classroom to get to the 2nd floor where my classroom was. The policy was that students were not allowed outside the classroom once the classes started. Some kids gave VL a hard time when he got to my classroom and that was too much for VL. He was so upset and terrified. I gave VL the chalk and watched to make sure he got back to his classroom.

Like Lucy, I was good at making up stories when I was a child. I often told other kids outrageous misinformation and beat up those who dared to say otherwise. My favorite strip is when Lucy pointed at something on the sidewalk and informed Linus that it was a butterfly from Brazil. After Linus pointed out it was just a potato chip, Lucy still insisted that it was a potato chip from Brazil. Now and then my husband and I would point at something on the ground and claimed that it was from Brazil, like last Christmas when I took photo of a piece of gum from Brazil on the street of New York (hah).

I remember the time when I was riding my bicycle around the neighborhood and ran into a little girl who came out of nowhere as I turned around the corner. I decided to take the little girl back to her house and told her father that some kids knocked her down and ran away. Since the little girl could not yet speak, my story was completely unchallenged. The father was so grateful that he thanked me and also gave me a bag of sweeten dried fruit for being a Samaritan.

I read a few self-help books about relationships and how men and women are different when it comes to being happy in their marriages. The books are written by both male and female authors but I also read in a magazine article that the majority of people who purchase these books are women. Men don't run to the bookstores or library to read books so they could understand why the woman got so upset because her husband forgot what she just said five minutes ago. Men don't read books so they could understand what works or not working in their relationships or how to fulfill emotion needs of their wives. Men don't read books such as "Smart Women Foolish Choice" or "Too Good to Leave, Too Bad to Stay - How to Know When is the End of Your Marriage" or something like that!

I over-analyzed too many little things or delved into the details of the person behavior instead of chalking it up as mindless or ignorance. Another favorite strip was when Charlie Brown told Lucy that he felt life was just passing him by and that he did not fit in with the rest of the world. Lucy started with her lecture about how big the world is with all the people living in it and it is the only known world, then Charlie Brown flipped over when Lucy yelled out "WELL, LIVE IN IT, THEN" and demanded "Five cents, please" for her service.

In Vietnamese/Chinese culture, a party is held at the completion of the baby one-month old. It is the time to introduce the baby to the entire family and in America, to announce the child's Chinese name. Red-dyed hard-boiled eggs, symbolize fertility and good fortune, are distributed to the guests. To foretell future of the child, the parents would place about five to ten objects, allowing the child to select two to three items from the selections. Of course, parents would not include a broom (sanitary worker) or items that would not be symbols of highly respected occupations. Based on whichever the items picked by the child, the adults would interprete the child's future occupation. The usual items include a book, a pen (a teacher, writer or educator) money (banker or gambler), toys such as hammer, knife, (trade person) musical instruments, ruler, mirror (beautician or vain) or medical device as most Asian parents have high hopes and ambitious desires that their children would become doctors.

According to Mother, I picked a book, a pen and a mirror (that is the reason for posting a drawing of Lucy holding the mirror). There you have it, I am a vain person who loves to read and write.

Generally I am a happy person and somewhat content with my current condition. I don't remember if I ever was so happy that I would dance like Lucy. Actually I don't know how to dance. I did a few steps now and then when I slowed dance with my husband. I was pretty good at the Duck Dance at weddings. I don't watch the show "Dancing with the Stars" but I do admire people who really know how to dance, especially the classic elegance ballroom dance. There were a few times at social/business functions, male acquaintances asked me to dance and I always responded that I would only dance with my husband. Of course, I expected the same that my husband not dancing with another woman. I know other people don't mind and think it is harmless when the spouse dances with someone else, as long as dancing does not lead to something else. As they say, different folks different strokes!

The drawing of Lucy on top of the football is how content I am when watching my beloved New England Patriots played on Sunday or Monday Night Football. There are so many things that I read differently now compared to when I first read the Peanuts more than 25 years ago. For example, I now appreciate the strip when Schroeder corrected Lucy that it was Johann, not Johnny Sebastian Bach. Lucy then decided that she would write about Bobby Orr. Of course, I did not know back then about Bobby Orr, a defenseman of the Boston Bruins, and one of the greatest hockey players. The drawing below is Lucy's famous excuse for not catching the ball because the sun got into her eyes. Often people make up execuses, blaming someone or circumstances, and not willing to accept responsiblities for the mistakes. It is the government, society, the school system, the company, the co-workers, not our own incompetence or attitude that contribute to the failures.

THESE ARE A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS

When the dog bites, when the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad,
I simply remember my favorite things
and then I don't feel so bad!

Borrowing from the song "My Favorite Things", a show tune from the 1959 Rodgers and Hammerstein musical The Sound of Music, when Maria sang with the von Trapp children during a thunderstorm, these are a few of my favorite things when I had to stay in door because of the freezing temperature and slippery roads.

My husband loves to tell the story how he saw an old locker about to be discarded, thrown into the dumpster at work and asked if he could have it. He took it home, fixed the broken lock, painted it and it became our Red Wings locker. We keep ticket stubs, game notes and sports related items in the locker. The plastic boxes on top of the locker contain my husband's hats. CP has over a hundred hats as he always adds more to the collection from places we travel to. The hat on the side of the locker was from Alaska, appropriate look of the wilderness. Next to the locker are the ticket holders which are to be used with appropriate sports, Hockey Hall of Fame or Detroit Red Wings when we go to the hockey games, Superbowl XL when we go to football games and World Series when we go to baseball games.

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes

Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eye lashes

Silver white winters that melt into spring

These are a few of my favorite things!

There were no girls in white dresses but plenty of snowflakes and freezing temperature when we waited outside Ford Field Stadium in Detroit for Superbowl XL. We were so excited because it was our first Superbowl and for poor people like us, it would be once in a lifetime experience. We still laugh about a man in the seat next to us that he looked like "Tony the Fist" from the Godfather.

The above Yao Ming jersey was an attendance prize from a conference I attended in Chicago with my sister back in 2005. When the raffle number was called for a prize of Yao Ming's shirt, I did not pay much attention. Then my sister CH looked at the ticket and told me that it was my number. Thinking that it was just a lousy t-shirt, I was pleasantly surprised that the prize was actually an autographed jersey, with certificate of authentication of Yao Ming signature. A person at the next table tried to offer me $150 to which I responded, "Bidding starts at $1,000". The next day I checked Ebay and found that similar item was sold for $350. I had a photo of me wearing the jersey but it was so long that it looked as if I was wearing a dress!

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens

Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens

Brown paper packages tied up with strings

These are a few of my favorite things!

Here is another example of my husband's handiwork. We purchased the reproduction of the new Busch Stadium for only $15 (original price was $75) because the right bottom corner was a bit dogeared. CP found the frame for $20 at an estate sale. We had to purchase the two small frames for the tickets, the first World Series game in the new Busch Stadium. Added the two pitcher's helmets, blue from the Detroit Tigers and red from St. Louis Cardinals, the total cost was just a little over a hundred dollars.

Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels

Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles

Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings

These are a few of my favorite things!

Well, I don't have anything that has flying wild geese on it. The elephant below was a gift from my brother VL when he went to India on a business trip. Look closely inside this elephant, you will see a smaller elephant and another smaller elephant. All three elephants were carved from one stone. I would love to see how it was done. It is sad that people who have such talents could only peddle their art works to tourists for a few dollars while a handbag with the name of a famous designer printed all over (no artistry there) would sell for hundred of dollars.

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

Last weekend we finally put away all the Christmas decorations. We also tried to re-arrange the storage space in our basement. We gathered two full boxes of items to donate to Goodwill Thrift Shop. While going through the containers, I found these old pairs of prescription glasses that I used to wear before contact lenses. I put the glasses into the collection box sponsored by the Lions Club. I think the donations would be given to people, mostly in underdeveloped countries, where prescription glasses are considered luxury items.

I still remember an incident that haunts me to this day. It was during one of the stages in our refugee life in Indonesia when we moved from Berhala Island to Kuku Island, as we were getting off the boat, my Dad handed me his jacket as he had to carry someone who needed help. I accidently turned the front pocket of his jacket upside down and there went his reading glasses into the water. I don't remember if we tried looking for the glasses or the water was too deep to attempt such task. Dad did not yell at me or express any anger over my carelessness. I tried writing to Uncle Ping who was going to sponsor our family to America. I don't remember what I wrote that caused Uncle Ping to respond with a nasty letter. Uncle wrote that how dared I asked him to send my Dad a pair of reading glasses while Uncle already had many expenses as part of the sponsorship. Uncle then went on with his ranting that the family was never kind to his parents and that my family only contacted him now as we needed his help but did not care that he even existed when we were in Viet Nam.

When we finally came to America, my parents pretended that we never received that letter. I think Uncle realized he shouldn't have written that letter and had tried to make amend.

I read somewhere that majority of Asians as an ethnic group are nearsighted. That is true in my family as all four of us (my three siblings and I) are. Last year I learned that my 6-year old nephew would also need glasses. My sister CH commented that she was angry at the adults who did not tell her not to sit too close to the television. I did not say anything at the time, but I thought even if someone told CH not to, would she listen? As children, we often rebeled and ignored warnings from adults. Only when we grow up or something terrible happened, then we regret why we did not obey.

In addition to the glasses, I also found this ancient cleansing and disinfecting system. When I first obtained contact lenses in 1985, it did not work out too good. I experienced irritations, uncomfortable, and my eyes were red most of the time when wearing the contacts. Once a week, usually on Saturday night, I would go through the routine of disinfecting the lenses. First, I put a tablet into the tube filled with solution. Once the tablet dissolved, I would place the lenses in the holder (catalyzing disk), on both sides. I had to make sure to place the lenses in the correct side, the left marked with the letter L, as my left eye had higher prescription. The lenses would remain in the tube overnight. I must remember to take the lenses out of the tube, rinsed thoroughly. The best way would be to place the lenses in the case for a few hours before putting them in your eyes. Otherwise, the chemical in the tablet would cause a burning sensation to the eyes. The first pair of contacts lasted only about six months. When I found the lenses a year later, they looked like pieces of dry skins. I finally gave contact lenses another try in late 1986 and it has been working out pretty good since. Currently I am wearing extended wear soft lenses but I take them out at night. I feel it is unhealthy to keep the lenses in while sleeping. I have thought of lasik surgery as in the last few years, the procedure has proven effective, safe and affordable. Personally, I am unsure of the potential risks and at my age, it might not be worth it.

I have thought of donating this ancient cleansing and disinfecting devise to Bausch and Lomb for their museum. Is there such thing as Museum of Glasses and Contact Lenses? Thanks to the wonderful world of Internet, I found information on Medical Museum at University of Iowa. Under the title "In the Eye of the Beholder: Sight, Illusion, and Disorder", the website provided history and display of items such as trial lenses and frames in 1890, a Chinese version of folding spectacles with case around 1800, and the most important statement "Spectacles have been valued as a mark of intelligence, social status and style since their invention in 13th-century Europe." I feel so much better about wearing reading glasses (or older people glasses) in addition to contact lenses.

FIRST LOVE

I do remember being a bully when I was a little girl growing up in Viet Nam. I would punch and pound the kids in the neighborhood who used to tease me that my eyes were "as big as the bowls" (Mat bu nhu cai to). I specially remembered beating up my cousin, let's call him Harmony who was the 3rd child of my 2nd uncle, a brother of my mother. Harmony was the same age but for some reasons he never fought back. There were two most memorable incidents of how I mistreated Harmony and tried to cover up my crimes.

The first incident was when Harmony cried after I slugged him, I ran to the corner in front of the store. My grandfather (Che Cung) saw me crying and asked what happened. I told Che Cung that my Dad was going on a business trip with his young brother, Uncle Strength who was a gambler and a womanizer. I was terrified that my Dad would follow Uncle Strength and neglected Mother and us kids. "What happened when Dad lost all the money gambling and had to sell the house, we will be hungry and have no place to live", I continued while Che Cung tried to comfort me that such thing would never happen as Dad was a good man. Harmony never had a chance to report my crime and I was off to the market to buy candy with the coins Che Cung just gave me.

The second incident was a favorite story Mother still loves to tell. Che Cung asked me why Harmony was crying as we were playing in the backyard. I told Che Cung that an American helicopter just flew by and threw down some candy specifically just for me. Harmony cried because the Americans did not give him any candy. Che Cung laughed so hard at my unlikely story. That time I did not get away. Later Che Cung told Mother but I don't remember how I was punished for the crime.

Fast forward to the year when I turned 14 years old when I spent the summer in Cai Tau Ha (Ship Bottom). Harmony and his parents live in a nearby village called An Huu (Peaceful Retirement). That summer, for about three weeks, Harmony was sent to Cai Tau Ha to help Che Pho with her planting and farming. In addition to the fruit garden, Che Pho also raised chickens, ducks and a few pigs. Whether it was caused by teenager hormone or the summer heat, I was stung by the love bug the minute I saw Harmony. The little skinny boy that I used to beat up had turned into a tall, muscular handsome young man. Unaware of my thoughts, Harmony would squeeze my shoulder while laughing and commenting that the last time we saw each other we were little kids. Harmony continued to tease me whether I would beat him up again. Harmony did not realize that my red face was not caused by the sun but it was the beginning of my infatuation.

The next three weeks I would follow Harmony wherever he went and spent much of my time bringing drinks, food and doing whatever Harmony asked while pretending that I was just being helpful. No one included Harmony suspected that I had fallen in love with my first cousin, except Che Pho (a woman's instinct). There were a few times when Che Pho would assign different tasks to keep me from being around Harmony. As in most cultures, first cousins were considered brothers and sisters of the same parents. In Vietnamese culture, my infatuation without any physical actions was already considered incestuous. My first love and I had committed incest without even having been kissed!

Before we separated, Harmony and I promised to write letters to keep in touch. We did. The following summer, I begged my parents to let me spend the summer with Che Pho again, hoping that Harmony would be there. Three long weeks after I arrived in Cai Tau Ha, Harmony came but only for a few days. I wrote in my diary how I wished we could be together everyday and how I could find the way to tell Harmony that I loved him. I dreamed of being told that I was adopted so that I could marry Harmony as we had no relations. I did not get a chance to be with Harmony as Che Pho kept him busy with many tasks. Then Mother found my diary. Mother explained while crying that she could not believe that I have committed such terrible act. I still remembered Mother was shaking so badly that Che Pho had to hold her while also crying. She asked how I could even have such thoughts towards Harmony who was like my own brother. Mother ordered me to stop writing or having any contact with Harmony. I cried, apologized to Che Pho and Mother for dishonoring the family and promised to forget about Harmony.

I often wonder what could have taken place if Mother never found my diary. Would Harmony and I commit the terrible crime of incestuous of marrying a closely-consanguinious blood relative? Or would my infatuation for Harmony go away? It did as at the start of the following year, a nice young man offered me a ride to and from school. We went to a few movies with a group of friends and usually played ping-pong after school. I was told later by my cousin, Rose that she was assigned the task to keep an eye on me to make sure that I would not make any attempt to contact Harmony. Rose told me that she also guarded me in case I tried to commit suicide (to redeem myself for dishonored the family) or run away.


Just like Charlie Brown's love for the little red-headed girl, Harmony never knew about my unrequited, unknown and unreturned love for him.
Looking back I am so glad and thankful that Mother found my diary and put a stop to what could have been a shameful situation for the family.
This entry is about that happy summer and the sad ending of my first love.

ALL I REALLY NEED TO KNOW

The title of this entry is the same title recently posted by my brother, Qaptain Qwerty where QQ wrote about a few new things he learned while playing Yahoo!Games Daily Crosswords. QQ also referenced a book by Robert Fulghum's "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten" which is also one of my favorite books.

This entry is about the Peanuts Comic Books and some of my favorite characters. I am sure I am not the only reader who share many traits with the characters in the Peanuts gang. When my family was completing U.S. Citizenship applications, we discussed adding an American first name as well as keeping our Vietnamese first name as middle name. My parents and brother TL decided to keep their given Vietnamese names. My sister CH chose a name of a British queen. I made a sign that read "Welcome to St. Louis, Your Majesty" as I greeted CH at the airport when she visited St. Louis a few years ago.

My brother VL selected an American name from a character in the Peanuts. The name fits VL perfectedly as in real life, VL is smart, reserve, fun-loving with gentle manners and a kind heart yet at times stood up for himself when necessary, just like Linus often defuses his older sister, Lucy's temper with clever logical comments or genuine affections. VL also suggested that I should take the name Lucy as I was also such a crabby and bossy person! No, I did not slug VL for his outrageous suggestion.

Like Lucy Van Pelt, I was the first born. While Lucy wanted a little sister, generally treats her younger brother Linus like dirt and made no secret that she would rather be an only child, I have always wished that I had an older brother. I never had much thought of being the only child or whether I should have a sister or a brother. In future entries, I will provide details about as a baby I was also a fuss-budget and one time sent the entire family into a panic trying to figure out why I was crying hysterically. Like Lucy, I was a bully. From the stories told by my mother, I used to beat up other kids, mostly boys, specifically a cousin whom I later fell madly in love with. (More about this in the next entry entitled First Love). I had only one doll but I broke the neck of the doll after playing with it, probably setting up a wrestling or boxing match. I had no interest whenever my female cousins tried to get me to play house, cooking or setting up doll houses.

Unlike Lucy, I adored my little brother VL. I had fond memories of driving around the neighborhood in a tricycle with VL sitting in the back seat. I still remembered the time when I felt so rejected because I wanted to hold VL but he would not let me. My Dad told me to wait until VL was tired of walking, then he would need me to carry him. I don't remember we ever fought or exchanged verbal arguments. I never stole the crayons from my little brother. Actually it was the other way around. One time I came home from school with a bag of cookies. I put it down on the kitchen table. After I washed my hands, as I came back for my cookies, VL took the liberty and already distributed the cookies to others in the house. No, I did not slug VL for his generosity with my cookies.

Another time was when Mother left VL alone in front of the house with a large tin can full of cookies. A group of older kids came by, started taking the cookies while VL looked on without making a sound or protesting. Talk about sharing spirits in such young age!

The drawing of Sally Brown crying reminded me of the stories Mother is still telling even to this day about how difficult I was as a child. Mother said that I was such a pain that the barber and the dentist asked Mother not to take me there. Mother said that I used to scream from the top of my lung as the barber raised his scissors ready to cut my hair. One time after a bloody scream, I kicked the dentist so hard, causing him to almost knock down the tray of instruments. There was a male neighbor two doors down from our first home in Cau Nhi Thien Duong (Double Paradise Bridge) who always hugging and kissing my female cousins who also lived next door to us. The first time this neighbor put out his arms about to hug me, I let out a loud scream that he never tried again. The man had the nerve to complain to Mother that I was such an unlikable (kho ua) child. I wonder how many people would recognize that this kind of behavior by an adult male towards little girls could have been child molestation.

The Peanuts were the first American comic books we saw at Jackson Heights Branch library and immediately fell in love with Charlie Brown, Snoopy, Linus, Lucy, Sally and the gang. (My brother VL corrected me as I previously wrote that we went to Elmhurst library which is way over on the other side of Broadway. This is the reason why I love blogging, more than just recording what took place but helping us stay connected.) We enjoyed so much that we took all the copies and the librarian had to tell us that each person could only check out ten copies at one time. So we divided the books and checked out as many copies as we were allowed for that day. We started to use words such as Blockhead, Good Grief!, Sweet Babboo, and excuse such as The sun got into my eyes or when being challenged, "I give you five reasons" trying to threaten the other with a fist like Lucy. My brother VL gave me a copy of Peanuts A Golden Celebration - The Art and the Story of the World's Best-Loved Comic Strip. Over the years I also acquired a dozen or more different copies. No matter how many times I read the strip Peanuts, I still giggle or have a good laugh when looking at the drawings. All I Really Need to Know I learned from the Peanuts to be like Charlie Brown and his endless determination and hope that one day his team will win a baseball game with him pitching, that Lucy will not pull the football away to allow Charlie to kick the football and to remember that he is a lovable person no matter what others said.