what kind of magic spell to use?

it's midnight and my attempts at studying for my biology final has degenerated to a point where I am singing along to the Labyrinth soundtrack and making vague punnet squares to predict what the offspring produced by my future time-traveling escapades will look like.

save me from myself.




edit: there is a 50% chance that my child with david bowie would have blue eyes.

a good thing

I like fabric stores because they smell beautiful like possibility.

things that make you feel nostalgic

Photographs in unexpected places- between the pages of inherited books, in lockets, hiding under a mattress. Sliding into a dress that was once worn for a very important occasion. Hand-painted tiles. The slow moving air of uninhabited places. Seeing the smile of someone that you have cared about immensely. Replacing the laces on an old pair of shoes. Discovering a letter that you never got around to sending. Sandalwood soap.

birthday

I'm seventeen today.

Like most birthdays, it feels like I should be doing something wildly profound, or mildly profane. Instead, I think that I will go to the post office and then I will eat some cake.

Japanese Relief

You've undoubtedly heard about the current situation unfolding Japan following the 9.0 earthquake and subsequent tsunami on March 11th, 2011. Thousands of people have been declared dead, while thousands more are missing and unaccounted for. Homes have been destroyed and people are being evacuated. The nuclear crisis developing from the Fukushima Daiichi plant will undoubtedly have long lasting and tragic effects on Japan and on the world.

Amidst this tragedy, there are inspiring stories of heroism. Hideaki Akaiwa faced the 10 foot water wall armed with scuba gear to save his wife and mother, and has since returned to the flooded streets of his city every day to rescue survivors. The workers of the Fukushima Daiichi plant have willingly exposed themselves to extreme levels of radiation while they work to stabilize the reactors.

There might not be a lot that you can do or a lot that you can give, but that's no reason not to do anything. Do what you can.

Be wary of organizations, and do research before giving anything. In a situation like this there are people who will try to take advantage of compassion, so it is best to give money to organizations that have proven their effectiveness in previous cases. The Huffington Post has compiled a list of legitimate organizations that you can donate to, including but not limited to Doctors Without Borders, Red Cross, and Save the Children.

If you're interested in getting something for your donations, you can find goods on Etsy that are designated for Japanese relief. Large percentages of the profits for these items are being sent to charities.

When you're unable to make significant monetary donations to any organizations, consider alternatives to money. Students Rebuild has partnered with DoSomething, and has a donation goal of 100,000 paper cranes. For each crane that they receive, they will donate $2 to Architecture for Humanity, until they reach $200,000.

They're very helpful in answering any queries that you might have about the project, and they have a crane count on their website that they upload daily. I've emailed them a few times, and they've mentioned that they suggest that cranes be made in a 4x4 paper size, although they are very lax about these dimensions. If you've got a stack of origami paper sitting on a shelf somewhere, it's time to dust if off. If you are unsure about how to make a paper crane, search online for a tutorial, or find me sometime and ask me. Don't be afraid to send in more than one crane- if you have fifty cranes or more you can request a free UPS mailing label via email. Or, give it to me, and I'll include it in the next box that I send in.

Know of any organizations that you think that I should mention, or have any ideas for fundraisers for Japanese relief? Leave them in the comments, I'd love to hear them. Keep me posted about what you're doing and I'll be sure to do the same.

Black birds

In Chinese, PoPo means maternal grandmother.

PoPo was the first Chinese word that I learned to say, followed by Gung Gung, the word for maternal grandfather. My Gung Gung passed away two years before I was born. My third Chinese word was likely learned off of a menu.

My PoPo raised five children and adored nine grandchildren. She called us Precious Heart. It was a term of endearment that melt into a single world, preciousheart, three syllables that I've never heard used by anyone else.

Every time my brother or I had a major school event, my PoPo would take the train and visit. We'd pick her up from the train station for our graduations from elementary school and middle school, and my brother's high school graduation last June. She visited for the various theme days that my school held, Grandparent's day in the first grade, Greek styled Olympics in the fourth.

She was most proud of our academic achievements, and would reward our positive report cards with small amounts of money that she'd send to us in hong bao, lucky red envelopes. More often than bills, we would receive coin money, a silver Susan B. Anthony clinking against a golden Sacagawea, or several half dollars. For Christmas of 1999 the present from her that I was allowed to open (my parents dealt with envelopes- they were (rightly) afraid that I would tear enclosed checks apart in my wrapping paper frenzy) was a thin green state quarter book. After that, whenever I visited her, she would give freshly minted quarters to me so that I could fill the book.

In these last few months, she spoke less and less. We'd talk every couple of days, but never for very long because it would tire her out. Most vividly, I remember a conversation that we had in January while I was in New York. I had finished my day of work in Brooklyn, and called her as I often did while I was walking to the subway. Because our conversations were short, if I dialed her number when I was passing the Vietnamese restaurant, I would be puckering my lips in my loud and childish way to kiss her goodbye by the time I got to the entrance to the subway. We talked for longer that day, and I walked up and down the street next to the subway a couple of times while I told her about my job. It was a pleasant type of cold, and the snow was beginning to melt and dampen the sidewalk with the fresh concrete type of smell. I made some mentions about college visiting, and she told me how she knew that I was a smart girl, and that I would be happy wherever I went. Then she said how she was proud of me. Proud of all of us.

And I think that's when I knew. My PoPo had lived a long and happy life. And she was ready for whatever came next.

That was one of the last conversations that I had with my PoPo. I saw her two times after that and I got to hold her hand and say my goodbyes. I kissed her on both cheeks and told her that I loved her. I wish that there was more that I could say, more that I could have said, but I doubt that there are ever words to make saying goodbye any easier.

She's been telling my aunts about seeing a black bird outside of her window for the past couple of days. It's friendly, she told them, a nice type of bird. She said that it was coming to take her to heaven.

My PoPo passed away yesterday afternoon. Tell me if you see any black birds.

frankenstein had angst.

I just spoiled 90% of Frankenstein for you.