And the Livin is Easy

Today being the equinox, the longest day of the year, (and the anniversary of my sister's birth), it marks the official beginning of summer. Which seems to be an arbitrary distinction since New York has already seen half a dozen days in the 90 degree range, but whatever.

And since that means I'll be spending more time by the pool and out of town (and later in the summer in Europe for a few glorious weeks), it means that I will have less time with my computer. So, unfortunately, I will be taking a summer hiatus from blogging weekly, but worry not because if anything blogworthy comes along, I will definitely be throwing it up.

In the meantime, happy equinox and summer to everyone! And a very happy 23rd birthday to the little one out west!

It's A Girl!

In honor of Father's Day, I am going to tell the story of how the men in my family became fathers, particularly my own dad and my grandparents.

Now, my parents were immigrants from Taiwan and my sister and I are the first generation of Taiwanese-Americans in our family. So a lot of the customs that my parents grew up with have been lost with us. But one them has been particularly pervasive in our lives.

Patriarchy, aka girls are worthless.

My grandfather on my mother's side is a very successful tycoon in Taiwan, so after he reached a level of success in business, all he wanted was a son to pass his name, legacy, and business onto. Unfortunately for him the first offspring was a daughter (my mother) as were the subsequent four girls. At the fifth girl, my youngest aunt, when the nurse told my grandmother, "It's a girl!" my grandmother literally burst into tears at the prospect of having another child.

Because there really was no other option. My grandfather was (and still is) he patriarch of the family so if he wanted a son, a son was what he was getting. Eleven years after giving birth to my mom, with four other daughters in between, they finally had a son, the son who would carry on the family name and who would be the proud offspring that would care for them in their old age and bring the family pride. It's almost like the story of Henry VIII, except with fewer beheadings.

Except...my uncle JoJo was so spoiled throughout his life that he is now 41 and unemployed, never having had a job in his life, and his wife and three children all live on a stipend from my grandfather. I'm not still not sure what the kids say when their friends ask what their parents do for a living. "Grandpa sends Daddy checks every month because he was born a boy?"

Not that I don't love JoJo. He is far and away my favorite uncle, partly because he lived with us when we were growing up and since he was only 13 years older than me, he always seemed more like an older brother than an uncle to me. Just as now, I feel much more like an aunt to his three children than their cousin, especially given that I am 24 years older than the youngest.

My aunts were not given any of this special treatment and have all turned out to be successful women with families of their own. I think it's pretty awesome that they have all become successful in their own right with minimal help from my grandfather, whereas JoJo is a homemaker for his kids and doesn't have to work since he was born with a penis.

No, I find this whole patriarchy nonsense kind of hilarious, because if you look at it any other way it really is just tragic. So I just listen to this kind of stuff and laugh. But my sister E, oh my crusader the sister E, thinks this is the most unfair thing ever and gets heated up when we discuss JoJo's situation. She wants to sit down our grandfather (once again, the patriarch of our clan), wag her finger in his face, and say, "Well, I hope you have learned your lesson that spoiling your son does not amount to anything good."

I'm sure he'll be quite receptive when she gives him that piece of her mind. I just can't wait to watch.

So the next reasonable assumption is that my parents were hoping for at least one boy in their family. My paternal side was hoping for a male to carry on our family name and my maternal side just wanted a boy because boys are better than girls. (Duh.) They got pregnant only about a year after getting married and even though my parents were struggling immigrant graduate school students, they were ecstatic to have a baby and never considered any other options but keeping it.

Since they hadn't lived in the country long enough to even have health insurance, my mother skipped any sonograms that were available at the time and they opted to wait to find out the sex of the baby. Her mother (my grandmother) and my uncle JoJo flew out a week before her due date to be there when the baby was born. After all, it was to be the firstborn of the new generation, the eldest child of the eldest daughter.

So, on this momentous occasion, they were all crossing their fingers that a healthy boy would be born. And out pops, well, me. It was the first in a long series of woes I would bring to my parents.

My grandmother wasn't allowed in the delivery room, so through the glass window of the waiting area my father had to convey to my grandmother what sex the baby was. So he chose a thumbs down. And my grandma's face fell.

That's right. All those hopes, all those dreams, all that time out the birthing canal, and all I got at the end of that long ride was a thumbs down because I didn't have a penis.

Eventually, they all came to terms with the fact that I was a girl (kind of) and found other things to criticize instead, like the fact that I had naturally dark skin (like the farmers' kids do), and that I was extraordinarily fussy as a child, so much so that I wouldn't let anyone but my mother or JoJo carry me. And later I would start hitting, biting, and throwing fits, but that's a story for another time.

Four years later, my little sister was born, putting an end to my parents' attempts at continuing the family name. Unfortunately, my father's only brother had three girls, so my paternal grandfather is devastated that we are the end of the line.

My mother claims that my father is happy that he had two daughters, but I find it highly suspect that there isn't an ounce of disappointment that he didn't have a son to pass his genes and name onto. I'm pretty sure that this is why my parents chopped all my hair off when I was six and I was mistaken for a boy for the entirety of first grade.

So, sorry Dad, on this Father's Day, I apologize again for being born female (and for being so adamant that I only wanted a little sister, not a brother, which obviously had an impact on the outcome). But I leave you with this tidbit of wisdom, which I am hoping my sister will also impart to our grandfathers:

Girls rule.
Boys Drool.

Oh, So Awkward

So last weekend at S's birthday party, I had another run-in with the most awkward man alive.

Just to recap, I met this awkward specimen a few months ago, when he stunned me with his new levels of awkward conversation. Then he attended my birthday party and suggested we get together while we were both in California.

We texted back and forth while we were both in San Francisco, but never ended up meeting up since I was busy finding a giant donut with my sister. Strangely enough, he even called me one Saturday night at 2AM, which I would usually take to be a booty call. But considering he was staying with his parents and I was crashing at my sister's, that would've been out of the question. Which just makes me think it was another awkward maneuver.

So I was excited to catch up with Awkward when I saw him at S's party. And surprisingly, he seemed excited to see me too. He gave me a very friendly greeting and hug and then proceeded to once again display his unprecedented power to bring conversations to a standstill.

Me: Congratulations on graduating from law school! How's bar studying going?

Awkward: Studying?

Me: Yeah, you know, for that big exam you have to take to practice law...Didn't you start taking the class this week?

Awkward: Oh yeah, the class started, but I don't need to study.

Me: Errrr...why?

Awkward: Because I'm brilliant.

This was said with no irony or facetiousness whatsover, which led to a brief uncomfortable silence.

Me: Sooo...have you gotten placed at the law firm yet? Because someone else mentioned they're having trouble reaching them.

Awkward: What do you mean?

Me: I guess they're not picking up his phone calls?

Awkward: Oh, they always pick up my phone calls. I'm really important.

Another beat.

At this point, I excused myself and found my friend R to roll my eyes at her and ask if he could possibly be for real.

"Yeah he seems really full of himself, and not in a kidding way," R said. "I had no idea what was going on over there, but it looked like he was hitting on you."

I laughed her off: "No, no way. I think it's literally impossible for him to be interested in me."

"No seriously, he was leaning into you and standing close to you. I think he might really have been hitting on you."

I figured she had to be mistaken until I passed him again and he stopped me to ask me, concerned, "You're not leaving are you?"

Which, unless it's coming from the mouth of someone you're actually friends with, is boy-code for, "I hope you're not going anywhere because I'd really like to spend some time with you and bang later tonight, or at the very least drunkenly make out in the corner of the bar."

I told him I was just going to the bathroom and since I was a few drinks deep at this point, figured there wouldn't be any harm in trying to talk to him again.

Boy, was I wrong.

Awkward: Are you excited to start at that shithole school?

Me: You mean the school you just got your law degree from and that I start in the fall? Yes, I'm pretty excited.

Awkward: Why?

Me: Because I am really looking forward to going back to school. What do you have against it?

Awkward: I don't know. I guess in the law school it was just a bunch of Type-A, arrogant, competitive assholes all trying to get ahead.

Me: Um, correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't that describe you to a tee?

Awkward: Exactly! That's why I hated everyone there. You can only have one of those types in a crowd and there were just too many there that I had to compete against!

Me: I see...

Awkward: Plus they were all socially backward and awkward.

Me: Once again, correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't that also describe you?

Awkward: No! I'm not awkward at all!

Me: Um, sure.

Awkward: Just because I have strong opinions and voice them in dissenting crowds which makes me unpopular doesn't make me awkward.

Me: No...but that doesn't really help.

Awkward: What are you talking about? I'm not awkward!

Me: I have to be honest with you. I think you're one of the most awkward people alive.

Awkward: Most. Awkward. Person. Alive?!?! There's no way. S, do you think I'm awkward.

S: I love you, but you really are the most awkward person I've ever met.

Me: Ha, see?

Awkward: No way!

At this point, he asked another one of their coworkers if he is awkward to which the guy answered without even thinking about it, "Yes, absolutely."

I had previously thought that awkward people have to know that they're awkward, like it's some sort of self-awareness that you couldn't possibly miss, like fat girls knowing that they're fat and short guys knowing that they're short. But my major mistake was forgetting the Spare Tire Girls in college.

You see, my college was notorious for having heinous girls (which it did), which gave some of the ugly girls a distorted self-image where they thought they were much prettier than they were. Which led to a lot of fat girls wearing way too little clothing. Seriously, as soon as spring hit, there were eyesores everywhere. It was painful.

The worst were the Spare Tire Girls, who had giant rolls of fat around their waists but due to their sorority sisters saying, "Nooo you can totally pull that off. You look hot!" would walk around wearing shirts that were many sizes too small. Instead of hiding their spare tires, this would have the opposite effect of flaunting their bulges to the maximum. Just thinking about it today gives me the chills.

Anyways, apparently awkwardness works the same way. And although we thought it was common knowledge that Awkward is so awkward it makes your teeth hurt, he had been in the dark. He proceeded to rant about it for some time and turn to the gay guys in the crowd for consolation.

They petted him on the head and assured him that they didn't think he was awkward at all (false), and before we knew it he had left without saying good-bye to any of us. With the gay guys.

My friend T, being the friend that he is, turned to me and said, "Did he just choose a bunch of gay guys over you? That is a BURN! I can see the disappointment all over your face. Do you need a hug?"

I hotly replied, "I'm not disappointed or upset! I just think it's strange that he left without saying bye!"

"It's ok. I know that you're upset that you just got ditched for guys. You let me know if you need that hug."

I know I probably injured Awkward's ego by calling him out for being in awkward in public but I really thought that he knew.

Especially since after leaving with a bunch of gay guys after possibly expressing interest makes it even more awkward than it was before, which I previously had not thought was remotely possible!

It just goes to show you, just when you think you've seen it all, some fat girl with her gut hanging out of her XS tee or an awkward guy will always prove you wrong.