My outburst

Most, if not all, people don't understand me when I say I have a fight with my mom. "what do you mean, your mom is an angel, why would you ever need to fight with her?" Those who believe me tend to side with her. "I'm sure it was something that you could have done to fix the situation." FOR ONCE, I don't need anyone to side with her or argue that this argument didn't exist, but to simply see from my perspective (however twisted it may be) what it means to fight with someone you love and respect so much.

I've read about these kinds of fights. The typical mother-daughter seperation argument thats bound to occur sometime before the wedding. I guess in a way, I should be happy this argument took place before the wedding, and not, say, on the wedding day. These fights are typical because both sides are incredibly sad that they are leaving each other, and where fear, abandonment, and loss is what we're actually feeling, anger tends to rear its head.

She started out by telling me how everyone in the world has treated her badly in the last few months, especially me. How I was a horrible daughter. How she's embarassed that Myron's mom has three sons who are all excellent but she reared a rotten daughter who can't get her priorities straight. I tell her that I'm sorry if I've been sore or unpleasant the last few months. Its' not like I'm trying to be bad to her, I'm just going through a very difficult time with all the wedding planning, the school, the residency stuff, the board exam stuff. She says she knows I'm busy but she thinks that I should still be nicer to her and my dad, because in a matter of 2 months, I'll be leaving them. I agreed, said I'd try harder, but she needs to understand that I'm not purposefully trying to be mean to them, I'm, again, going through a hard time. Its not liek they're the only ones experiencing loss, I too, and "loosing them" in a sense, when I move away. She says she's a good person and she doesn't understand why I'm doing this to her. Doing what? I yelled, if I don't know what I'm even doing wrong, how can I possibly change? She goes on to tell me that I'm just a bad person and she didn't raise me right. She doesn't know how her and dad are going to survive if their only daughter is rotten and can't give a rats ass about her parents feelings now when she's still under her roof. Surely, this kind of person won't give a rats ass later, when she moves out of her parent's house. I told her (loudly) that if she's going to make up lies about me and believe them then whatever I do to "improve' my rotten behavior won't be apparent to her, if she's already pegged me for being a horrible person. After probably 5 minutes of shouting, that conversation ended there.

I know this was bound to happen. Not necessarily because I'm a rotten person (I've convinced myself thats not true, despite my mom having said it for more than 24 years now) but because seperation is hard for moms and daughters and without allowing the time to grieve the end of our time together, this outburst happened.

If there's one day that I'm hating the most out of the wedding planning ordeal, it's today.

Please, don't comment if you're gonna judge me for what I said. I really need a hug right now, and the closest person nearby is my mom, and she's too mad to talk to me.

My "mind-numbing paranoia and fear"

There's this website I like to look at, www.offbeatbride.com It's nice cause its a site for girls who can't stand the traditional wedding. But more importantly, it's very real and addresses a lot of issues that brides have that are not surrounded around the "which monogram?" or "what chair covers?" type of problems.

There was a recent advice piece that was based off of a reader's plea for advice for her wedding. She has been engaged for 2 years and all of the sudden, out of nowhere, she is experiencing a kind of mind-numbing paranoia and fear about her wedding day. Worried to death literally about things going wrong, guests not liking her ideas, food being burnt, forgetting to do certain things, etc. I think she's experiencing what a lot of brides eventually experience, especially for being engaged that long.

I'm not going to lie. A few people know that I've had recurrent dreams about how our wedding could go wrong. I've had a dream where everyone else is ready for the wedding, but I've been so busy setting everything up, I left my dress at home. Another dream where I was so busy looking for all the reception details that I forgot my dress, shoes, undergarments, rings, and...pretty much everything else. Yet another dream where we were on our way to the place, and took a bad turn into a neighborhood where the Russian mafia was having a shoot out. And we had to walk across the field where they were executing their prisoners. By the time I arrived at the site, all my mom could say was "I can't believe you're so messy. There's blood on your dress."

Anyhow, I was just thinking about it, and what all these dreams (mine and hers) have in common is, the failures and deficiencies that we dream of...are really of things that are kind of petty. In reality, if you think about it. How can a wedding "fail" if you get married at the end of the day? haha!

It's unlikely that I'll stop having those dreams about the wedding til it's over. But hey, I feel pretty good knowing that the wedding probably won't flop if in the end, the paperwork is signed at we walk out Mr. and Mrs. =)

My wolf debate

It's a rather boring night in Roseburg. So.... I decided to settle the "great wolf debate" once and for all.

For those of you who have absolutely NO idea what I'm talking about, here's a little background:

It's 2007 or so. Linda, Patrick, Jared, and I were studying at the library. Was Kathy there? Dunno. The details are kinda hazy. Troy walks by and sits down and proceeds to tell us about this adventure he had in Portland. He was driving along highway 26, going to Portland.

"I was driving.....and then I SEE THIS WOLF ON THE HIGHWAY" He says

Linda frowns. "no you didn't. you didn't see a wolf. Was probably a dog"

"NO IT WAS A WOLF. I know what a wolf looks like" he insists.

We all pause for a moment.

Someone asks, "How do you know what wolves look like? Are there wolves in Hawaii?"

And so, started the great wolf debate. Errr... kinda. In reality, the great wolf debate was really just something that gets brought up every once in a while by Myron and I. When we went to Hawaii in '08, we were sure we were gonna solve the mystery....but got distracted by how awesome Kauai was instead.

So, on this very boring night in Roseburg, I consulted my web sources about this very curious question.

No, there are not wolves in Hawaii since dogs are not native to Hawaii. For the record, there are also no bears.

There.

My measley 180 miles

All I could think about today is that it's day 8 in Roseburg and I miss Myron. For some reason, the 180 miles seems an impossible distance, and my favorite thing to do all day long is think about the 180 mile drive back to Portland on Thursday. I don't know how people do it (like you, Kathy).

Everywhere here, it seems like I'm reminded that long distance relationships work, but not because the paradigm works. Its because the people behind it work their asses off preserving it.

I live with a guy named Sam. I guess here in the Roseburg house, he's my surrogate brother. It's been interesting living with him. He works at the restaurant that my host family owns. It's not hard to tell, by talking and interacting with him, that he's immigrated here recently from China. Most notably, he is socially a tiny bit awkward. On the first day I met him, he asked for my car keys so he can talk on the phone in the car. We talked a little bit over the first couple of days.... and then he just went aloof...like stopped sitting at my table during dinner time and stuff. And yes, he still goes into the car to talk on the phone at night (not mine though). I kinda feel bad for this guy. He works 6 days a week and 10-12 hour shifts. Voluntarily though. And he doesn't have a car at the moment...so he spends his day off doing.....nothing?....around the house on Mondays. Awkward pretty much sums it up.

Anyhow, I'm real curious about this guy, and why he's gone aloof all of a sudden, and who he's always talking to at night in the car. I know his only relative in the states is his brother, who goes to school at UO. One night, I made a comment about how his brother looks like a teenager. And he offended, saying I must think he looks old. Which brings me to another weird point. This guy refuses to tell me how old he is. If I had to guess, I'd say he's about 22, by the way he talks, looks, and walks around.

I am probably wrong.

A couple nights ago, I had to drive him home because he injured his foot. I'm dreading the drive home because I don't know why he's stopped talking to me. Why is he so emo? What's making him blast HK pop every night behind his closed doors?

I'm brave so I decide to break the ice.

"So.....you ever think about moving to Eugene where your brother lives?" I ask

"Sometimes. But it all depends...." he breaks off.

"On...?"

"On....my wife. She's still in China. We got news recently that the US denied her visa application...and now we have to start over."

My heart sank. What was I supposed to say to that? So I find out that they'd been apart for nearly three years now. She still works and lives out of Guangzhou. And he works as much as he can to save up for their future, which is hopefully gonna be here. He smiles again when he talks about her and tells me that she's a very low key girl and she'd love it here in Oregon. That he's sure she'd get used to American food. He says he doesn't mind working his ass off right now, even if it means resting one day a week, because he's saving to hopefully buy a Chinese restaurant, so that when his wife comes over, the two of them can run the business and grow old and happy together.

So inspiring. Makes 180 measley miles feel....like a piece of cake.

My big fat grievances about the wedding industry part 1

http://offbeatbride.com/2009/05/authenticity-vs-attention

This is a nice primer to the problem I'm describing in this post.

We've been planning our wedding for about 11 months now. It started out pretty standard (OMG OMG I'm getting married), but somewhere along the line, I developed this absurbly long list of things that I absolutely abhor about the weddings/wedding planning/wedding industry.

My list of grievances:
most Chinese traditions
jumping pictures
anything monogrammed
color coordination
themed weddings
loaning money to pay for your wedding
honeymoons right after the wedding
people asking you why you're not honeymooning right after the wedding
first dance expectations
"picking up the bride"
"torturing the groom"
family photos
guest lists
gifts
etiquette
RSVP cards
Chinese invitation inserts
wedding day hair and makeup
people asking "how is wedding planning?"
people asking me when I'll have kids
DJs
wedding shoes
wedding "bling"
buffets
toasting flutes
toasting to people you don't know
charging to cut your cake

....and the list is endless.

Don't get me wrong. 20 years ago, I too, was one of those girls who dreamed of their fairytale wedding with their fairy tale dress and cinderella shoes. It's just, after eleven months of planning an elaborate dinner for 300 with a pricetag thats big enough to get me something fancy (like a brand new car!), I'm a little depressed by how much of what will happen on 8/21 is for shows....and not for us.

But I guess life is what it is. The sad reality is, even if I really wanted a small private getaway wedding, our family (and friends) would never let us get away with it. Which, I understand, it's a big event and everyone's excited and loves us. I appreciate that. But a girl can still vent right? Weeks ago, a friend asked me how wedding planning was going. I hate this question. Absolutely hate it- I mean what are you supposed to say? It sucks, I hate weddings? No, because then I'd be a demented bride. So to humor her, I talked a little about my "grievances" of the planning. I told her that planning an event for 300 is stressful, and our family and friends have set high expectations, so anything short of spectacular is simply unacceptable.

"Well you understand why, right? You guys are like the ultimate couple. God, your lives have been like perfect in every way. Of course your wedding has to be perfect."

.....wait, hold the phone. When were we given the chance to back out of being "the ultimate couple?" No, I don't think being "the ultimate couple" who "lives a perfect life" is an honor or a compliment. I think it's a distasteful lack of acknowledgment that we, like other couples, have grown through hardships in life (almost 9 years now) together to build a solid foundation of a lasting relationship. And THAT, is what I want our wedding to be about, not some fancy dinner celebrating the fact that we're perfect (cause that's simply not true.)

So if it seems like I'm rather detached about wedding planning, I apologize, I'm not trying to foil any "fun times" for anyone. And no, I'm not procrastinating at all. It's just....finding a way to plan things in a way that doesn't "distress" our guests while simultaneously finding meaningful ways to express our love to each other on our wedding day....is proving to be a lot more challenging than I expected.

To my friends who will marry after us: I definitely will NOT be offended if you guys plan an offbeat wedding. Please, do it.

My living breathing organism.

Day 4 at Mercy.

Started doing some more clinical stuff, but it's intensely hard to follow patients when you still don't have computer access. Oh well, my badge works so I can go check on them anyways.

Came in this morning with a bunch of pts on heparin drips to monitor. Preceptor and I passed through ICU and on the way to ICU-east, I overheard a conference between the intensivist, nurse, and OHSU transplant nurse. Organ harvesting happening today. Sounds exciting. Scanned through my mental list of patients- yes, this was one of my patients. I remembered him as 58 cause that's what his PTT was today- at goal for dx of ACS.

Hours later, I return to the ICU to bring down some IVs for this unfortunate patient- apparently a man who became brain-dead after suffering a heart attack. He was helping a neighbor with yardwork. The OHSU transplant nurse was busy at work, checking his labs, checking this and that, and ready to flag the OHSU transplant team to come down and retrieve his valuable organs. But wait- they were waiting on something. Something is telling us that he's perhaps not brain-dead. The patient's wife has already arrived and agreed that organ donation is what he would have wanted.

Another few hours later, while pt's family is present, they find that he's got some spontaneous respirations. Consequently, because of this finding, they can't carry out their normal organ harvest protocol. Essentially, this man is a living, breathing, organism. Though his heart no longer works on his own, his body still knows how to spontaneous breathe every once in a while.

"what's the protocol here?" I asked his ICU nurse.

"well, since he's technically still alive, we can't harvest, it's unethical. So, with the wife's consent, we will pull life support, then wait for the heart to stop beating on its own."

"....and how long does that take?" I asked

"dunno. Can be five minutes. Can be five hours."

I know, this sounds horrible. The nurse had the same conversation with the wife. And she was stoic throughout the decision-making process. But then, she had to say good-bye to him. And that's when she breaks down. The well-meaning nurse tries everything she can to console her and tell her that many members of our hospital community have personally benefited from organ transplantation; that her husband was gone, and only a body remains now.

"I know" she says, "but this is the body that I've slept next to for 34 years. 34 happy years. We're doing the right thing- what he would have wanted...but how can I not be sad?"

=( That did me in too.

My own Zumba

Zumba.

Honestly, I'd never heard of it until coming to Roseburg. Which makes me feel stupid, cause I'm like the only person who didn't know what the heck Zumba was. Anyhoo, for those of us who are curious, Zumba is an aerobic dance workout class that uses Latin-y dance moves to create a nice cardio workout. Yes, we chicks love such things.

I arrived at the Y today 5 minutes before the class begins. There's about 30-40 women and girls gathered around their gym area. They're all sitting by the skating rink prep area (yes, on certain days, the gym turns into a skating rink apparently). I'm apprehensive cause a) I'm the only asian girl there (more about about that another day) b) it looks like everyone else knows each other there, and c) I've never attended a Zumba class before. We all filed into the court area and the girls are all stretching and prepping for a workout. I ask a lady in the corner if the class is "intense" and she smiles warmly at me and tells me just to have fun and move around.

Before I know it, the music starts up. It's some Santana stuff. I can handle that, we did a lot of Santana in tap classes. I remember a pharmacist at work saying you gotta pay attention to their feet cause you can get seriously lost. So my eyes are glued onto their feet, watching what they're doing. It's like a modified version of hip hop. The first 10 minutes or so, I was seriously trying SOOO hard to mimic what they were doing (apparently, everyone else knows all the moves). I don't want to look like a loser (or worse, a fat lazy 20 something), so I push myself harder and harder to mimic what they're doing. After a few songs, I realize that I'm sweating unbelievably and I'm getting a better cardio workout than I would if I ran. And honestly, I was trying so hard to look like them, I forgot to have fun. So I guess that's when I kinda "gave up" and just started shakin my ass like it wasn't their business. I was standing in the back row anyway, why should I worry about looking right or whatever? And I guess I discovered for the first time, that dancing like no one is watching, is quite liberating. I had an awesome workout and I'm going back soon. Apple Bottom Jeans came on later, and all the girls (even the old ladies) knew how to rock that one. =)

So what's the moral of my story anyway?

A lot of you don't understand why I didn't want to take ballroom lessons. I've had some people tell me what a disgrace it'd be if I didn't "dance" with my husband our first dance the way all couples are meant to dance their first dance. Several well-meaning friends and family have insisted on teaching us fancy ballroom moves for our first dance. Maybe you dance enthusiasts don't see it this way, but for me, ballroom dancing is another thing I'd have to "worry" about. Living in a life where it seems like I'm judged for everything, I'm not sure I see why I want to be "judged" when I dance with my husband for the first time. If it was up to me, we'd stand in the back row with no one watching and do whatever tickles our fancy and dance to something upbeatish....but because we can't, all I want is just not to be "judged" on how "good" our dance moves are.

Because, you know, dancing can also just be a private moment between you and the one you love. I don't need applause or awws, but I certainly don't want any anxiety, worry, or stiff choreography to ruin a perfectly good first memory between us.


I apologize if this post offends anyone. To each his own.

3/24/10 2204