许旭 1932 - 08.13.2010
My grandfather is a great man.
He was the district manager of every single Tsing Hua book store in the Shang Dong district。 and a great scholar.
Over a hundred people from all over China attended his cremation.
He is loved and respected by even more.
He self-studied everything he's ever known.
And he loves fried fish and dried pork.
And he fathered my mother, who is the most amazing woman I know.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
We Won't Miss You, Because You've Never Left
I've never been close to my grandfather, but death, like life, is a mysterious and magical thing.
I can't explain it, but there's a sudden knot inside me and it hurts.
Maybe the situation hasn't completely hit me yet, but I don't miss him. But the more I think about it, the more I realize: I'll never see him again.
Never hear his husky voice or loud laugh.
Never see his toothy smile.
Never laugh at his ShanDong accent.
Never walk with him to a bookstore.
Never hold his elbow as we go grocery shopping.
Never see his angry face when I throw away his cigarettes.
Never cry at his harsh scoldings.
Never feel his calloused hands on my head or shoulder.
Never hear him call my name.
When was the last time I saw him?
When was the last time I spent a day with him?
And when I see my mother cry wailing sobs while muttering, "Daddy!" over and over, my tears can't stop.
Grandpa's gone.
Fuck.
I can't explain it, but there's a sudden knot inside me and it hurts.
Maybe the situation hasn't completely hit me yet, but I don't miss him. But the more I think about it, the more I realize: I'll never see him again.
Never hear his husky voice or loud laugh.
Never see his toothy smile.
Never laugh at his ShanDong accent.
Never walk with him to a bookstore.
Never hold his elbow as we go grocery shopping.
Never see his angry face when I throw away his cigarettes.
Never cry at his harsh scoldings.
Never feel his calloused hands on my head or shoulder.
Never hear him call my name.
When was the last time I saw him?
When was the last time I spent a day with him?
And when I see my mother cry wailing sobs while muttering, "Daddy!" over and over, my tears can't stop.
Grandpa's gone.
Fuck.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Puke All Your Troubles Away
Note: This post is not an over-dramatic confession about my secret bulimia addiction. Sorry. But at least there's grunge music.
Not that I enjoy beginning blog posts in FML format (or, as some would prefer it, MLIA format) and imagining pretentious anti-trolls (who are actually as annoying as trolls) wince at the reference, the antecedent "today" applies perfectly in this anecdote. In fact, "a minute ago" works much better.
Although, since I take ages to write a blog post, by the time this is dated and published, the event will be far more than sixty seconds past.
Anyway.
Today, as I was studying for my math SATs (yeah, I know, I finally told myself to shut the hell up and start studying), I made myself some microwavable Kettle Korn as a snack. Once upon a time, I loved the fat bastards. But now, they just taste bland, greasy, cheap, and leave a terrible after-taste.
However, despite all of my mental notes to never buy or eat this popcorn again, I had three bags sitting in my pantry that just had to be devoured. As I sat trying to figure out how to solve for the fucking limit, one entire bag disappeared into the oil that lined my fingers. After a moment of stunned silence, self-loath, and slight indigestion, I decided it was definitely not worth it.
So, as I stood up, stretched, and felt another wave of indigestion, I began to think how wonderful it would be if I could rewind my life, even for just five minutes, and tell myself not to make that stupid decision I definitely will regret five minutes later. Although, knowing me, I'd make the decision anyway.
But I digress.
Laughing inwardly at the impossibility of such a feat, I began to ponder an invention that can physically remove regrettably consumed food out of stomachs, and how amazingly well it would sell.
Not that I enjoy beginning blog posts in FML format (or, as some would prefer it, MLIA format) and imagining pretentious anti-trolls (who are actually as annoying as trolls) wince at the reference, the antecedent "today" applies perfectly in this anecdote. In fact, "a minute ago" works much better.
Although, since I take ages to write a blog post, by the time this is dated and published, the event will be far more than sixty seconds past.
Anyway.
Today, as I was studying for my math SATs (yeah, I know, I finally told myself to shut the hell up and start studying), I made myself some microwavable Kettle Korn as a snack. Once upon a time, I loved the fat bastards. But now, they just taste bland, greasy, cheap, and leave a terrible after-taste.
However, despite all of my mental notes to never buy or eat this popcorn again, I had three bags sitting in my pantry that just had to be devoured. As I sat trying to figure out how to solve for the fucking limit, one entire bag disappeared into the oil that lined my fingers. After a moment of stunned silence, self-loath, and slight indigestion, I decided it was definitely not worth it.
So, as I stood up, stretched, and felt another wave of indigestion, I began to think how wonderful it would be if I could rewind my life, even for just five minutes, and tell myself not to make that stupid decision I definitely will regret five minutes later. Although, knowing me, I'd make the decision anyway.
But I digress.
Laughing inwardly at the impossibility of such a feat, I began to ponder an invention that can physically remove regrettably consumed food out of stomachs, and how amazingly well it would sell.
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