Tag Archives: Happy New Year for real!

Make it up on volume with the island of misfit toys

New Year’s Resolution: Make it up on volume

Make it up on volume with the island of misfit toys

Happy New Year! We couldn’t wait for 2016 to end even though 2017, let’s be honest, is not going to fare better.

To say that 2016 sucked is a gross understatement. My father passed away on April 10 while I was 7,447 miles away. I still haven’t processed this. I am working up to it while being slowly eaten empty by guilt and regret.

I am not one to make New Year’s resolutions. I mean, I am very good at making them, I am just horrible at keeping them. My best record I believe was one week for keeping a journal. Journals are in general a bad idea: the thing about secrets is that as soon as they leave your mind, they stop being secrets. I did make one resolution for 2017 however: Read more real books instead of trying to read every single article saved to Pocket.

I’ve reached a, what should I call it other than a cliche, crossroad in my professional (and personal, though I am in deep denial on this one) life. So for the first time, I picked up one of the 10,372,763 recommended “this year’s best business books to teach you how not to jump in front of a moving train on your commute home every evening”, called Originals: How Non-Conformists Move the World, chosen out of, yes, self-aggrandizement. Adam Grant made an interesting point on quantity vs. quality:

It’s widely assumed that there’s a tradeoff between quantity and quality—if you want to do better work, you have to do less of it—but this turns out to be false. In fact, when it comes to idea generation, quantity is the most predictable path to quality… On average, creative geniuses weren’t qualitatively better in their fields than their peers. They simply produced a greater volume of work, which gave them more variation and a higher chance of originality.

I’m taking this as a permission to crank out as many streams of consciousness as my mind can dictate.

“…the most important possible thing you could do,” says Ira Glass, the producer of This American Life and the podcast Serial, “is do a lot of work. Do a huge volume of work.”

Make it up on volume. Sorry Internet. Blame it on Ira.

Happy 2013!!!!

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I’m sitting on the plane waiting for takeoff so I can go home to the 22-degree paradise. It figures that on the last day of my vacation the temperate finally got to Florida normal and I stopped throwing up. Hurray 2013! So as my husband and my youngest went off to see the Outback Bowl and I stayed behind at the hotel before our flight that United decided to move earlier, I figured I had two hours to have a nice vacation. So I did. I am glad I decided to start reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower. It was a joy reading it while lounging by the pool facing the beach with a tropical drink in my hand and some nice mahi mahi fish taco that I will actually keep down.

Sorry for whoring the unedited pictures. They are closing the gate now. Love. Bye. See you on the other side!

This is how we will end 2012.

So the world didn’t end in 2012.

Sorry Mayans. You have been wrongfully blamed for incorrect prophesy when in fact people simply misinterpreted your calendar system. But no worries, we will probably bring an end to ourselves soon with all the sinners and the sinful things we commit on a daily basis.

In total honesty though, I have been on vacation for five days, and it’s been a long five days because I forgot to pack my hairbrush so this head of long hair hasn’t been brushed since we left home for Florida on December 27… I digress. I’ve been away with no computer, no TV, no wifi most of the time, so I haven’t been up on the news. This morning I thought, let me check to see what’s up with the world on the last day of 2012.

Kim Kardashians is pregnant with Kanye West’s baby. And people can’t seem to shut up about it. (Yah, I get the irony that I’m talking about it too. Touche.)

That’s the headline news I got when I queried the Interwebs for “Hey, it’s new year’s eve, tell me something significant and meaningful.” This speaks to why we still need print newspapers, if you ask me. So be it, world. Or, more accurately, so be it, USA. (Pretty sure the Chinese are obsessed with something more meaningful on this day… I have no idea actually so drop me a line if you have the answer.)

Anyway, I’m blogging from my Android, and this is a roundabout way to wish you a happy new year.

Think of it this way: there is no other way for us to go but up in 2013.

Love from a sick blogger on a cold St. Pete Beach in Florida.

Yes, next year is looking better already!

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(Pictures taken on Fort Desoto Beach, named Best Beach in the USA in 2005. Still gorgeous, still worth a trip here if you could ever swing it. Love always, Lin)

My 3 words? Surprisingly not W. T. F.

Chris Brogan is at it again. Chris Brogan, who I really have no idea of, is apparently a very famous person on the Internet and the social media scene. Dude apparently is an inspiration to many, esp. with his annual New Year post “My 3 Words for 20XX”.

In 2011, his 3 words were: Reinvest. Package. Flow.

For 2012, his 3 words are (or will be?): Temple. Untangle. Practice.

Well, Mr. Brogan, I guess I have to thank you for inspiring the head honcho of my company to ask all of us to come up with 3 words to laser-focus our energy/ambition/breathing towards. Unfortunately, the fist thing that jumped into my mind was:

Move. That. Bus. 

And then I was stuck. I shook my fists at your well-defined cheek bones, Ty Pennington! The rest of my ideas were more like a plea for help from an insane asylum:

I do everything.
Like your mom.
Kill me now.
Let me out.
Set me free.
HELP ME PLEASE!

 

So I put out a call for help to some of my ladies and they, like Jimmy John’s, delivered, in more ways than one.

From Elly @ Bugginword:

Evangelize.  Inform.  Seduce.  Innovate.  Inspire.  Support is for bras, dudes.

Distract.  Disarm.  Destroy.

[Can we just describe you instead?]  Pure, undiluted possibility.  <— Seriously, with friends like this, who needs bras?!

How about “Social Media Whore,” Lin?  I mean whore in the nicest possible way.  Obviously.   <— She gets me. She really really gets me. 

 

From Wicked Shawn @ WIcked Girls Think It, Do You?

Wrangler of assholes.

Excite. Conquer. Devour.

Taker of souls.

Giver of (helping) Hand (jobs) “your choice”

 

From Kelly @ Dufmanno’s Blog:

Fight, win, destroy. [that would be mine]  —> Yes, Kelly, nobody would dare to doubt it. 

Astound, problem flatten, monarch in training.

Create, confound, excite. [I’m getting a great visual of you with flames shooting out of your eyes but you probably don’t do that at work. Can you pretend you are a prehistoric warrior goddess with a battle axe because that just adds pages of job titles to your resume.]  —> Srly, I have the best ladies in the world ever. No bras! Woohoo!

Destroyer of enemies.

Thwarter of evil.

Creator of animal pelts…

 

From Sue @ Lagunatic:

Instigate. Resonate. Fascinate.

Can you submit “I like boobies” just to see what they say?  —> So. Fucking. Tempting. Unfortunately my family’s health insurance depends on my employment… 

 

From Vapid @ A Vapid Blonde:

Divide. Conquer. Unite. (or Untie, if they are hot)

Solver. Slayer. Soother.Rockstar Fire Fucker… (not sure they would like that one)

Personally my mission statement would be Cocktail Maker, ShakHER.

 

From Amanda @ Brilliant Sulk:

How about a fun, interesting seminar: Noose making 101

 

From Patty @ Patty Punker:

drop kick this (motherfucker)

my shit rips!

veritable meth lab

old like deniro (or pacino, you pick)

 

Then Elly (aka Ms. Bugginword) followed up with this email:

 Is anyone else craving INXS now?  Can you deliver your three words with a boom box, some posterboard, and a giant black marker?

 

Yes. Yes. Yes!  Remember these and the awesome music video?

Hallucinate
Desegregate
Mediate
Alleviate
Try not to hate

 

 

With my ladyfriends’ encouragement, support and blind faith, right now, sitting in my official corporate profile is my 3 word mission that says:

Desegregate. Mediate. Alleviate.

 

Red Envelopes

For Chinese New Year, instead of wrapped-up presents, children are given cold hard cash inside red envelopes for good luck.

We are a practical people.

I still remember the excitement on Chinese New Year’s eve: after the big dinner, my parents would call me to their bedroom and hand me a red envelope. My parents never bought me any presents partly because birthday celebrations for children had not been a popular concept although people do celebrate the elder’s significant birthdays such as when Grandma finally hits 80 and hasn’t kicked the bucket yet, and partly because we were not poor but not wealthy either.

That New Year’s Eve red envelope was IT.

Of course, every other adult that you see during the 15 days of Chinese New Year is expected to give you a red envelope. The more relatives and friends your family have, the more red envelopes you get. The more red envelopes you get, the higher your net worth becomes, that is, until your mother takes them all away, “I will save it for you!”

Of course, you never see that money again.

I am embarrassed to admit that, at least during Chinese New Year, you DO have a favorite aunt or uncle, the one who’s known to give out generous amount in their red envelopes. As soon as you wake up on the first day of Chinese New Year, you try to figure out WHEN you will be visiting them by asking your parents indirect questions such as,

“When are we going to visit this or that uncle/aunt?”

And then deny vehemently when your mother accuses you of wanting to visit them simply for the big, fat red envelope you know you’ll be getting.

You also will try and hide your disappointment when your mother strikes some stupid deal with an aunt of yours to NOT give red envelopes to each other’s children.

I don’t remember much from my childhood but I do remember counting the money vividly. It was a ritual in itself.

It was of course never polite to count the money right then and there and therefore I would stash the red envelopes away, in the pocket of my jacket, in my fuzzy poodle purse, in my oversized Japanese-style wallet, in my closet. (It has happened more than once, I believe, that I lost my red envelopes. The memory is fuzzy now because it was rather traumatic and I am pretty sure I have blocked it off…) The whole day the thought of those envelopes and HOW MUCH MONEY in each of them lingered, the way the burnt smell of exploded fireworks did, and those envelopes surely felt like they were burning a hole inside my pocket. I waited till the end of day to spread out all the red envelopes on the bed and counted out my loot. I took my time to take all the bills out, feel each one of them, take in the intoxicating smell of crisp new bills. I then return the money into the red envelopes, careful not to crease the bills. I remembered who gave me which red envelope by looking at the different design on each of them. This was important because later my mother needed to know who gave how much so that she could make sure to reciprocate next year. It’s amazing how she would remember the next year even though she did not take any notes when she was going through my red envelopes after Chinese New Year.

It was like a tacit agreement between us: She would grant me the pleasure of keeping the red envelopes and counting the money every night, and I would turn them all over when this was over.

Once I tried to stash away one of the red envelopes, and my mother asked coolly, “Aunt So-And-So did not give you a red envelope this year?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged with the studied casualness of a method actor, “I probably put it somewhere… Oh, yes, here it is.”

I never tried to fool her again.

Now in hindsight, as in right at this moment, I could have stashed away a hundred-dollar bill (40:1 Currency exchange rate, people, don’t get too excited) from at least some of the red envelopes. She would probably have never sensed anything wrong.

Nah. She would probably have caught me anyway.

Good times.

Being here by myself, I don’t really do anything special for Chinese New Year with my own kids. Although part of me felt guilty for sucking at bringing Chinese New Year magic to my children, some part of me felt this was merely nostalgiz playing an unfair trick. After all, according to everybody back home, Chinese New Year is not the way it was any more. Nowadays people take advantage of the 5-day holiday and travel abroad so you can hardly find anybody to visit during that week. Many overseas Chinese would also tell you that going back to Taiwan during Chinese New Year is the worst timing: your relatives and friends are probably out of the country, and most of the stores and restaurants are closed.

Perhaps because of its convenience, the tradition of giving children red envelopes remains, and it is the only Chinese New Year tradition I am consciously keeping. It was satisfying watching Mr. Monk’s eyes light up.

“You mean, you are just giving us this money?”

“Yup. This is Hong Bao. Red Envelope. It is for good luck.”

“Wow! You mean I get to keep the money inside?”

I wanted to say,  “And I am not taking it away from you when Chinese New Year is over.”

But it was late at night and this would entail a long story.

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Nostalgia is like a grammar lesson:  you find the present tense, but the past perfect!

— Owens Lee Pomeroy

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What do you know? Someone managed to kill my nostalgia for The Most Awesome Chinese Tradition aka Red Envelopes…

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The Chinese caption accompanying this picture says, "Kids, don't litter the envelopes otherwise the Monster, Year, will come after you!"

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Way to go rabid environmentalists for killing the happiness that comes with getting free money from every adult in your life!

The Obligatory New Year’s Day Post

Only 3 days late.

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I spent time agonizing over NOT working on my posts rather than actually working on my posts

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(Cue music: “I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?” Even more a loser because I am partying like it is 1993 to this song sitting at my desk…)

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This should make it clear my opinion on new year resolutions...

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Now that we got the obligatory discussion of New Year’s resolutions out of the way, I can now move on to talk about what’s been bothering me… But you’ll have to wait because I realized, after the effect, that 1/1/2011 is a big day for my home country, and I need to give it some sort of shoutout:

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100 years ago, Dr. Sun Yet-sen led the revolutionaries to finally overthrow the Qing dynasty. So this is the beginning of the 100th year for the Republic of China (not to be confused with the current China CHINA…)  There was a spectacular firework display from within Taipei 101 (which was the tallest building in the world up until not too long ago), and thanks to YouTube, I could honestly say I felt like I was there.

So…

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO and FROM TAIWAN.

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From the ever witty Gawker:

This is a fireworks portrait of (non-communist) Chinese revolutionary Sun Yat-sen (from the New Year’s celebration in Taipei, Taiwan), but really, it could be anyone, so send this picture your friends and tell them that it’s you.

Here’s my footnote:

But remember that 1 out of 4 people on earth will recognize this face since even China CHINA recognizes Dr. Sun Yat-sen as “the Father of the Nation”.

New Year’s Resolutions? Bah Humbug!

I don’t understand why people complain about the frenzy over Christmas yet fail to be annoyed by the hype around New year’s Day. Ok, yeah, I understand why. But I am taking some “poetic license” here…

It is probably just me: No will power. No desire to improve myself. Disillusioned by year after year of failed plan to exercise and diet three days into the new year. Cynical of the belief about New Year = New Beginning. It was just another same old clock ticking. Arbitrary!

I woke up on January 1, 2010 to yell at the kids for yelling at each other on New Year’s Day.

“IS THIS HOW YOU WANT TO SPEND THE FIRST DAY OF THE NEW YEAR?”

I know. My 2010 has already started with a big irony. I can see that this is going to be a great year.

Perhaps it was a wrong move for me to step on the scale at all this morning… Everything just went downhill after that…

I have learned, rather than set myself up to fail, to set individual, realistic goals for each day: Today I vow to do the dishes, wash the bedsheets, finish unpacking, put away the stuff on the floor and vacuum the carpet. Not sure about making the bed with the laundered sheets. That can probably wait until January 2nd.

Years ago when Mr. Monk was still a toddler and I was a happy content definitely NOT-restless SAHM, I learned a few things from some online cleaning guru lady that still apply to this day. It makes the times when I switch my role to that of a housewife “a life full of purpose”:

1. When you wake up, get dressed, and put on a pair of sneakers even if you are not going anywhere. Sneakers help transform all the household chores into “exercise-like” items. You will feel yourself more energetic, and more purposeful. They also keep your feet from getting tired: you know you have a lot to do around the house!

2. Wear an apron with pockets when you pick up the house: you can stash the knick knacks along the way in the pockets and put them back where they belong on route.

3. Put on some music and move to the beat. My favorite is ABBA’s album, starting with Dancing Queen.*

4. My own tip: Have a drink. Add more rum.

Have a wonderful New Year’s Day, Soren Lorensen!

* Our friends FORMER friends put both Dancing and YMCA on the DO NOT PLAY list at their wedding. And those two songs only. I knew then that this friendship would not last… Turns out she belongs to a fundamentalist church and does not believe in dinosaurs. ’nuff said. (The real kicker is? He is a biologist. After so many years, I still wonder how that has worked out for them?)