Robin Hood

You were our Robin Hood,

Taking back the emotions he had deprived from us
and reinstalling it into our lives.

We escaped that summer, like we had for many years.
This year, we had a brown wagon;
our valiant horse.

You asked,
"Where should we go?"
In your unusually cheerful voice.

I replied "Nottingham."

Every year, you put up with the words,
the strikes, the sudden violent storms.
but when it came to summer

the sun came out, and you courageously
took things in your control again.

You realized this would be the time to take us away
give us the childhood we lacked.

When we headed toward Nottingham
using an old AA map, tattered from previous trips

I thought,
this had to be it.

This would be the year we would stay free,
gain back all the love taken from us.

It had to be,
Robin Hood did it
and he found his love

Couldn’t we?

Edging Toward 30

I’m sure for those closer toward a different number the three or the zero probably means nothing, and for me I’m somewhat ambivalent toward the figures, too.

In the core of my heart, I could be any age and still do what I’m doing now. In my world, there are no limits to what a person can or cannot do at a certain time in their life.

But for many around me, those two numbers represent time to find a partner, time to make babies, time to find the perfect job, time to do things that may or may not be what they are ready for. So I’m ambivalent. Why should anyone be tied to a schedule arbitrarily created by, well, we don’t even know who.

Sure, 30 means women’s biological clocks tick in, but if you can fall in love with a person enough to want to spend the rest of your life with them, shouldn’t you be able to fall in love with a baby that may not be your own and want to spend the rest of your life with them, too?

I don’t understand the pressure to get married. Shouldn’t it be enough just to enjoy life your own way, whether it’s with a partner or not. I know coming from a married woman this all sounds ironic, but I truly feel that even if I did not have a partner I will enjoy my life.

I don’t understand how some people with fertility troubles refuse to adopt. If it is such a challenge, isn’t it time to find a different solution and accept it? I feel sad for people with partners unwilling to have children unless it’s their own. That is so selfish, especially when some women have strong maternal desires.

I don’t understand the rush to find the perfect job. Perhaps there isn’t even the perfect job that provides stability, happiness, excitement and whatever you define as perfect. Everything has a give or take. Right now, I have a great job, and that’s good enough for me. It pays decent and I get to do what I enjoy. It’s not perfect, but it allows me to grow and meet people.

I know I’m blessed, I have a mother who supports me no matter what my crazy decisions are, a husband who lets me simply be me, and friends who remind me to stay true to my personal believes. So that is why I especially dislike arbitrary numbers that dictate what a person should be.

Everyone should be allowed to find themselves, at their own speed, in their own way, and when they are ready.

For my dearest friends who may feel pressure from random numbers, lovers, family members, or something that I can’t even predict, I wish you the best and just want to say stay true to yourself and I am always here to cheer you on your journey to you.

For My Friend Christie

Today's rain looks like the miniature shadows
of passerby at Shibuya's ant's intersection.
Another glance and they look like street vendors
setting stalls,
or busy running away
from the police in front of Taipei's Eslite bookstore.

Yesterday the rain would have only fallen down
but now I see them bouncing off the concrete in joy.
They chest bump each other
leaping from point A to point B
like factory workers they run to assemble
my thoughts. A vowel to the left
a constant to the right.
No, no, no, they say.
You need a metaphor somewhere.
Yes, yes, yes, they agree:
add an alliteration on top.

Either standing up or sitting down
each drop feels its calling and
moves to the pitter patter from the sky.
They are busy prepping because

today She has arrived.

This is who I am

The girl turned woman who once said

I want to be

a writer,

now writes.

And this is who she isn't afraid

to be.

She journeys the world in search of

knowledge

equality

freedom

people

stories

lives

and now

she has gained the ability

to share with a small section of the world.

Yes, she is afraid

because on her quest

she has gain some and lost some

but no matter what

when she gains

her heart rejoices and thanks

whatever angels that exists

for the words that are printed

and for the chances that flies by.

No, she will not stop

because her quest

is not yet over

there are more

figures

characters

ideas

that she has yet to learn.

Sure, she has lost one important character

but perhaps through losing one

she can gain a handful.

She is not sure.

But as always

she trudges on

in uncertainty

and delights in the surprises that

shapes who she is.

(Written in February, 2008)

Untitled

Limbs akimbo, floundering

she swims standing still.

All she needs is to see movement

life progressing before her.

Yet, in that confined space

she sees windows

of opportunity

shut before her.

So instead, she chooses

to close her eyes

where a mere thought

creates movement

and infinite possibilities

blossom.

The L-World

It’s a strange beast, this thing of mine.

I don’t seem to observe it in others.

In me, it engulfs and debilitates me from life.

Gone are desires of action, here are thoughts of achievement,

but without one, there is not the other.

Gone are desires to converse, here are thoughts of inspiration,

but without one there is not the other.

Gone are desires to socialize, here are thoughts of relationships,

but without one, there is not the other.

So I stay, accompanied by my beast.

Home

Nothing happens between these walls and I.

Standing in the middle, I attempt
to be a furnace, to provide warmth
but I offer nothing but a cold shoulder

I try to decorate the place with my imagination
to shut out reality, yet am left
with nothing but the gravity of the situation

I am housed in safely, in convention, in tradition
yet, home, remains an elusive mystery
that I remember from some time ago

I try to decorate the place with my emotions
with the amore, the flames, the passion
that should be never ending

Yet, has managed to cease.

Toronto

Santi and I took a mini vacation to Toronto from Sept. 11-15. I had no expectations of what Toronto would be like and so it was easy to get more than I expected.

First off, Toronto seems a lot like Chicago. We have Lake Shore Drive, they have Lake Shore Blvd. We have Wicker Park, they have their Queen West, except I have to say, their West Queen West beats anything I've seen so far. So what is West Queen West? For me, it's a street filled with beauty, beautiful interior designs, beautiful clothes, beautiful art, beautiful people.

Santi and I first stopped by at West Queen West to attend an after party for a film, but when that turned out to be a drag, we took a night stroll around the neighborhood. I love how the interior of the stores are all visible from the sidewalk. Most stores were long rectangle shaped and you could look all the way in and decided whether it was you or not. We oggled over many bars and restaurants but did not feel the urge to stop by for a drink in any of them. We then ventured a little farther away from the happening area and stumbled upon a neighborhood bar. It was so local, that none of the hip people were present, unless you count those who were probably really hip back in the 70s.

We entered into a grease-filled dive bar full of eclectic people mostly above their 50s. A couple, the man in tight black jeans and the woman in tight red jeans were dancing to the jukebox. I was very impressed by the way they moved in sync with each other and grooved, better than Santi and I!

The moment we stepped in, Santi and I wanted to leave because it was very greasy smelling. But because it was such a small bar we decided to be polite and buy a beer at least. The $4 beer came in a huge mug, which meant Santi and I had to sit for quite a while to finish it. We enjoyed watching the locals interact. The bar had a long center table, where it seemed like a community meeting was taking place.

We were almost done with our drink when suddenly, the man in tight black jeans bought Santi and I another round. We felt flattered by his hospitality (he was not the owner), yet at the same time we were ready to leave. We weren't drunk enough to dance or not smell the oil. But the man's hospitality made the night all that much more fun! He invited us to the center table, where it wasn't actually a meeting, but just a group of locals meeting up for a drink.

I liked the communal feeling at the bar, the sharing of daily life and chatting about sweet nothings. It was probably something we would not have gotten at a more hip bar.

Taiwan Came to Chicago

Taiwan visited Chicago today, bringing with it a luggage full of wet suits, damp towels, soggy biscuits and also blasts of sauna sunshine.

I waited for the bus with my visitor. It traveled at 45 mph trying to seduce me. Luckily, the bus driver dashingly guarded off its moves and opened its doors in an air-con-filled embrace.

My visitor traveled with me in the most glamorous way; hollering out, pointing, and more often than not--spitting. Everyone acknowledged my visitor, some were happy; others not.

My visitor was powerful, for it made people start sharing and prompted strangers to pass knowing smiles of disbelief. It made women squeal like giddy children, and today these women could be sexy without trying--revealing (appropriately) the rainbows of their expensive underwear. While, men (except for the few) were not as lucky and did not have an array of colorful joys to share with the world.

I strolled around owning my visitor, not yet familiar with its presence in my current environment, yet very familiar with it. I held my umbrella to ward off its passion, but it would not let me be, for it had traveled thousands of miles and wanted to wrap itself around me in a loving soppy embrace.

Warm Loving Birthday

Who says you can't have a great first married birthday without your husband?

I had an awesome birthday without Santi.

But I couldn't have had this lovely birthday without Santi;

I spent it with his wonderful family.

Santi was out in Philadelphia for work so his family celebrated with me over tapas in Wicker Park. We ate at a nice long wooden bench and chatted about nothing in general just like families do. I love being able to spend time with Santi's family and being loved by them.

If I was asked what the best thing about marriage is (apart from marrying Santi), without hesitation I would say it's getting an extended family!