Raising Cain

Last week, Matt and I went to a restaurant, and there was what Matt called “the son of Satan” sitting at the table behind me. He screamed a lot. Matt said, his mom was trying to feed him (I wasn’t looking because he was behind me.), and he would just spit it out and drop it on the floor. She would say calmly to him, “Don’t do that. Stop that now.” But he continued to scream and do something that involved making a banging noise.

Two women with a group of daycare kids, mostly black, came into the restaurant too. They all filed in and sat at the tables, and when their food came, they ate neatly, talking to each other in quiet tones and generally having a good time. They were about the same age as this kid behind me, according to Matt. Well, Satan’s son let out a particularly ear-splitting scream (reason unknown), and it was surreal to see all those daycare children turn as one and stare at the kid for a few moments before returning to their quiet, casual dining.

I was dying to turn around a get a look at this strange progeny. But instead, all I could do was laugh, and ask Matt to swear we wouldn’t have a kid like that. He said, “You never know what you’ll get, hon.”

I used to hate little kids. They were always screaming and crying, and asking for things that their parents couldn’t afford. And then screaming and crying some more. Perhaps my hatred for little kids was also due to the fact that those who seemed to have them, couldn’t control them. They would threaten their kids in grocery store lines, saying, “If you don’t stop cryin’, I’m GOIN’ TO SPANK YOU.” The kid would promptly let out a horrified shriek at the thought, and then the mother would spank it really hard, in public. And the cycle would continue again, because now the kid was in both physical pain and emotional humiliation. It was torture for all within hearing range, but no one would do anything about it. Maybe it was because those women were usually the types that could whup a grown man’s butt.

(My parents spanked me too, but it was few and far between. Plus I can remember precisely why I was spanked, as those occasions that warranted it were rare. Matt is the same way.)

I think that my hatred of little kids changed when I went to visit my relatives in Philippines, and I got to meet my cousin J.R. who at the time was just a little baby. He was the cutest thing — jolly and plump and easy to break into giggles by just saying the word “banana” or “pancit”. I never heard him cry during the entire visit. He was a lovely, happy baby.

Then I went back to the States and continued my baby-hating ways.

Until my aunt and uncle came to live with us in Arkansas. They brought along my cousin May Anne, who wasn’t much more than a year old. She was also a lovely child. She was quiet and thoughtful, and in spite of her size, she was actually very mature. She was also really funny, but I won’t tell you how, because she’s actually grown up now, and I’d probably embarrass the heck out her.

And then we moved to California, and I still hated babies.

But then, another aunt had two kids, and they were also very mature. None of that screaming and crying that I associated with kids. Daniel has actually grown from a sentient grub into someone I can play Scrabble and chess with. Lorraine was also a quiet baby, thoughtful and sweet. I used to tell her fairy tales to get her to sleep, and I swear she looked like she could understand them.

After that I went to college, and by that time I think I could tolerate babies. I realized, it’s really not the babies I hated, it was the way they were brought up. All my aunts raised their kids in a similar fashion to how I was raised, which meant they were pretty reasonable, even at a young age. They weren’t selfish or spoiled, and were very intelligent.

Now, all my high school classmates are sending me pictures of their babies. They’re cute and all. One of my classmates complains a lot about her little girl, and I know she’s only teasing, but I think it’s sad that she has to do that. I see her doing what her parents did to her, and yet, I don’t say anything because there’s nothing madder than a woman who is told that she’s not raising her child correctly. She has to see it on her own, or she won’t acknowledge it.

When I went to China with my parents, one of the tour guides pointed out that all government buildings have two lion statues at the entrance. One lion is a male, and usually has his paw on top of a globe. This is to represent the fact that the male is the one that rules the world.

The other lion statue is a female, and under her paw is a little lion cub. This is because, she is the one who brings up the one who rules the world.

Around Alone

The nearest large body of water, in my case, is Lake Michigan. I’ve sailed on it only once, and it wasn’t bad as we were only about 3 miles from Chicago’s shoreline. But in the middle of the lake, I’m told winds can be strong enough to create 50 foot swells.

So, I am really impressed with anyone at all who participated in the Around Alone race, where one “man” and one boat do one lap around the earth. In particular, Bermuda claimed it’s first circumnavigator in Alan Paris. He is a former hotel manager who decided to do the trip. Here is a little excerpt from the race’s website:

The leg from Salvador would have been relatively uneventful for Alan except for a collision with a whale a few days after the start that resulted in a couple of cracked ribs when he was launched into the navigation station. “It was really difficult for me to work the boat with my ribs the way they were,” he said. “I had to be very careful to not get caught with too much sail up because I could not get it down in a hurry. There were quite a few times when I should have had the spinnaker up, but didn’t dare.” Looking back over his circumnavigation Alan talked about the high points of his journey. “When my face was 2 feet away from the water as I was clinging to the mast trying to reef the main in 50 knots of wind passing Cape Horn, and the boat got knocked down…that was the high point!” he said. “Shortly thereafter I experienced one of the most beautiful moments of the trip. Being at Cape Horn felt like I was in a place I shouldn’t be. It was frightening and stunning at the same time. If you’ve been down there you’ll know.”

According to Yahoo Sports News:

On May 11, 2003, Emma Richards became the first woman and the youngest person to complete the 29,000-mile Around Alone yacht race, when she finished fourth overall in Newport, Rhode Island, U.S.

Yay, Emma!

*** CORRECTION ***
Kate and I were wondering was Emma really the first woman to circumnavigate the globe in a sailboat single-handedly? Well, no. She wasn’t. According to CNN, anyway. CNN says Ellen MacArthur was the first to do so, and she just did it a few years ago. ‘Wonder if there was yet another woman that CNN is not reporting.

Below is an excerpt from CNN’s website about Emma Richards:

Richards will become the second British yachtswoman to sail solo around the world, joining Ellen MacArthur, 25, who became the fastest woman to sail around the world and placed second in the Vendee Globe last year. MacArthur also became the youngest-ever finisher in the Vendee race, a non-stop race beginning and ending in France, and only the second person to sail round the world solo in less than 100 days.

I guess it doesn’t really matter to me which one is true. It just inspires me, all the same.

Can We Just Be Friends?

Yesterday, one of the sailing club guys and I went to the boathouse to work on the boats. I spent a lot of time on the ground with him, and learned a lot about wiring.

Most of my friends are guy-friends. Normally, I don’t think about it, but every now and then it bothers me. I just feel like women-company sometimes. Thing is, every time I ask some of my women friends if they want to do something like renting a kayak at the state park or skating at the University rink, they say they’re too tired, or they don’t have $. Yet, when they ask me if I want to do something, it’s usually to go to the mall where they spend above and beyond what could have gone towards purchasing a really good set of blades. They also never tire of trying on different clothes or sampling makeup and perfume. I find clothes shopping with someone tedious and tiring, as our tastes usually differ.

One time, I did convince a girlfriend to go to the park, but once we were in the car, she insisted she was hungry and hadn’t eaten lunch yet. She suggested a picnic, so we ended up spending $ on food at County Market, and eating instead. So much for hiking. My dog was unhappy about it, as he spent most of the time tied to the picnic table.

Who cares that all my friends are guys? Well, it bothers me because I’m married now. I know Matt trusts me, but I know it bothers him a little sometimes when I go on camping trips with them, because I think he thinks they won’t look out for me the way he does. Plus, I have had a few psychos get mad at me because I didn’t tell them I was married. I didn’t think it was important, as I certainly didn’t plan on bonking them. I guess they were. I guess it would have been more apparent if I’d wear my wedding ring more often, but I hate wearing jewelry when I’m sailing.

For all my readers who are having guy problems (and I mean serious guy-problems, where a guy is abusing you emotionally or physically, blaming you for things you never did and weren’t your fault), I wish you better days and better men. Here is something my dad told me once, when I was in an abusive relationship. It’s a Thai proverb:

they say you put fertilizer pee to the post
even better than pee on that guy
some day you might grow a mushroom a fungus able to eat
you pee on that guy you get nothing

rot nam to nai

The Disappearing Art of Stitching

Although most of my clothes growing up were store-bought, my favorite clothes were the ones my mom made by hand. She always let me pick out the prints and the styles, and she even let me try my hand at making clothes for my toys with her sewing tools. I pricked myself a lot, but it didn’t matter, because it was fun creating something out of nothing.

Although my mom was pretty good at sewing, my mom’s mom is even better. I wore holes out in the knees of the pants my mom sewed for me. And my mom’s mom would patch them. She would use colored embroidery yarn to stitch borders around the patch and then something within the border, like butterflies and once, even making it into a television. She let me try it a couple of times, but my French knots were never as pretty or in the right place as hers. I asked her where she learned how to do that, and she said it was something they taught in school. What a shame they didn’t teach that in any of the 5 schools I attended. I learned basic sewing on my own. But give me a collar to hem, and you’ll have a puckered mess. I know enough about sewing to make decent sailbags, and that’s about it.

Another thing my mom’s mom is really good at, in case my cousins didn’t know, is tatting. She described it to me once, and I had no clue what the heck she was talking about. I was certain she meant “tattling”. She said, “No. It’s tatting. It’s a way to make lace.”

So she somehow found a tatting tool, and she showed me how to make lace by hand. It’s much like crocheting, but on a very tiny scale. Again, I asked her where she learned that, and she said, “In school.” I definitely don’t think any of my classmates learned tatting in school. It’s a shame, because tatting, embroidery, and sewing are art forms just as valid as watercolor painting, taught in my high school art classes.

Quilting is hard for me too! Whoever said women are worse at math than men have never tried quilting. Aside from the geometric considerations, there’s also the logistical problems of how to make sure all the pieces can be sewn together and keep their original size. Try it! Beyond a basic squares pattern, it’s not simple.

Today is Mother’s Day in the U.S. Mother’s Day was last month in the U.K. I called my mom up, but as usual, she said she didn’t want anything. I’m the same way. I prefer people don’t give me flowers, unless they’re in a pot, because they always die. I have pretty much everything I need, and the things I don’t have but want are things no one can give me. Plus, my mom and dad always tell me, don’t wait for just once a year to tell someone you love them. . . .

I wished my dad a Happy Mother’s Day too, because, as he said, “She can’t be a mother without a father, too!”

Ghosts, Mermaids, and Spirits

Many of my older relatives, on both sides of my family, have ghost stories to tell. They also ask me not to repeat them, because repeating stories about ghosts, mermaids, and the like supposedly makes them angry. And well, since no one would probably believe these stories, I oblige.

It’s strange to me though, that with all the stories I hear from my parents’ relatives (who are from different countries in Asia), how similar they are, and consistent.

Why then, here in America do I never hear any ghost stories that sound significant to me? If, indeed, there are some kind of spiritual beings that are malignant, why do I not hear of any here? I have a theory that people in America are just from so many different countries that ghosts just don’t know what to make of us. (Or that if they harmed us, we’d try to find a way to sue them.) Plus, most of us are pretty firm about superstitions and urban legends being silly, and that things can be explained scientifically. (One reason why we probably have made so many novel inventions.)

Still, when I am in Asia, alone or with my parents, no matter what country/colony (Japan, China, Singapore, Hong Kong, Thailand, Philippines, Korea), I am struck by how the countries affect us. It is odd, in an unexplainable way.

Jso has a lovely post about her SCUBA diving experience in Okuma.

That’s What Little Girls Are Made Of

Sheabyshea posted a nice little entry about her little girl growing up. It’s very interesting to me how women grow up to be so different from their mothers, and yet the same.

When I was growing up, my mom didn’t dress me up in frilly dresses or bows. And yet, I loved to wear them. I didn’t like the clothes she picked out for me. She usually dressed me in unisex clothes, and kept my hair in a short bob. I don’t know why! I think it was easier for her. She did occasionally buy me nice dresses, but I can count those on one hand.

She did encourage me to get my ears pierced and wear earrings. This is something that typically Philippino women have done when they are still babies. However, for some reason, she didn’t have it done until I was 6. And so, I put up a fit when she had it done! I did *NOT* want earrings. I did *NOT* want any permanent holes made in my body that weren’t there to begin with. So, when the piercings got infected, because I hated cleaning them daily, we let them close up, and I never got them re-pierced again. My mom feels a little sad, I guess, that I won’t be wearing any of her earrings — and she does have lovely sets of them — but in truth, I feel it’s no great loss. I suspect, if I have a kid someday, the idea that I don’t have my ears pierced will make her/him want to have hers/his pierced, cuz kids always seem to want to do the things their parents never did. So at least, my kids might be able to wear my mom’s earrings.

It’s the same thing with makeup. I think around middle school, my mom tried to get me to wear lipstick and powder, and all that stuff. I wear glasses, so mascara just smears onto my lenses and makes me pissy for the rest of the day. I used to marvel at how much makeup my classmates put on. It made them look older, but I don’t know why anyone wants to look older. We all get old fast enough, anyway. In fact, sometimes I laugh at how much women try to look older when they’re young. Then they spend money trying to look younger, when they’re old. (And men wonder why they can’t make women happy.)

Weddings are another matter. My cousin was just telling me today that she wants to get married in one of the big churches in Fresno. I have only been to a few weddings, and they are great affairs. I love dancing. That’s my favorite part about weddings is the dancing. However, I never really had a desire to throw a big wedding. My mom did though. She offered to pay for my wedding, and I refused. I wanted a small affair, similar to how my parents first got married. (They actually had three weddings — one in the courthouse, one in a church, and one in a temple.) I’m happy she acquiesced to a Vegas wedding. Matt is happy too. At first, my dad was asking me, “Why are you doing this to us?” But after the wedding was over, he was telling me how happy he was about it. I’m glad he enjoyed it. It really wasn’t supposed to be a big thing. It was just Matt and I going to Vegas to have a vacation for a change. I’ve been in school so long, I really just didn’t care to spend the money and time to entertain other people. I’m too burned out for that. Perhaps I’ll have a church wedding somewhere down the line, as my mom did, when I have the time and the energy to prepare for it.

Anyway, Sheabyshea is afraid for her daughter because she wants to start playing ice hockey. I understand her fear. I played ice hockey for a while. It’s true that it’s a dangerous sport. I tried playing in the co-ed league, and it was definitely dangerous. Even the all-women team was pretty rough. However, it was so fun! I stopped playing though, because I’m just not that good. I ended up playing intramural roller hockey instead. Thing is, with all that padding (really padded gloves, padded plastic shin guards and elbow pads, a good helmet), I got hit several times on the face-guard, fell forward onto my hands and knees, landed on my rump, got hit on the shin with sticks and skates, collided with other players head-on, and NONE OF IT HURT! The only time I got hurt was when I fell on my side, and that was because my hip wasn’t padded.

A good friend of mine on my roller hockey team, however, fell and hit the back of his head. He looked fine for a while, and so my teammates sent him to sit on the bench. Sometime during the middle of the game, he turned to someone and said, “Are we playing? Who’s winning?” They thought he was joking around. After the game was over, he told someone, “I know you, but I can’t remember your name. Can you take me to the hospital?” So we did. It turned out he had retrograde amnesia for a little while. He forgot everything he did that day, including his lab experiments. Good thing we all keep lab notes, huh?

He’d fallen before at least twice. People who have had concussions before have a higher likelihood of temporary amnesia. So he is one person whom I personally know got seriously hurt playing hockey.

Anyway, so if I have kids, I’ll probably try to get them interested in sailing, the way my mom tried to get me to wear earrings and makeup. I suspect they’ll probably abhore water.

Sailors rigging 420′s at Northwestern University’s sailing beach. Chicago skyline barely visible in the distance.

Higher Education

Why do people go to college? I went to college with a specific goal in mind. I wanted to get a degree that would help me learn the things I needed to become a good doctor.

But when I went to college, I met a lot of people who had no idea what major they wanted to complete. They said they were looking for themselves, learning about new things. Then they would decide.

I personally hold to the view that going to college is a very expensive way to “find oneself”. Remember, each semester is approximately $3500 in tuition for a state school. That doesn’t even include housing. If you go into the dorms to “have the dorm experience”, that’s another $6000-7000 a year. If you choose to live off-campus, a studio in Berkeley cost me $580/month.

In other words. . . there are better ways to find oneself than to spend 4 years hemorrhaging money.

“Oh, but I need a college degree to get a good job,” you say.

Hoo hoo! Did you know that in the U.S., approximately 25% of us have bachelor’s degrees? Uh huh. So that means, the anthropology major who lived in the dorm room down the hall from me is now helping to stamp processors. It’s good that he knows how to do that, because I wouldn’t want to breathe that stuff all day. I just hope he’s making enough to pay off his $60,000 in student loans, and still afford the apartment and utilities.

Does it really take a degree to make it in the world?

Ask Bill Gates.

Ask the guy who founded J.C. Penney. He didn’t finish college. Heck. He didn’t even finish high school. He didn’t have a business degree. He was just smart.

So was the guy who founded Wal-Mart. He didn’t finish high school either.

The guy who founded the Marriot chain of hotels didn’t finish high school either.

Anyway, I’m just venting because I’m really annoyed that I wasted so much time trying to get my Ph.D. It wasn’t worth it in the end. And it’s not because all my high school classmates are having babies and sending me their baby pictures. It’s not that I spent most of my waking hours working in a microbiology laboratory for the last 7 years. It’s simply that, you reach a point where you look back and go. . . Hell. Maybe I should have gone in anthropology after all! At least, maybe then I could have been the one to develop in-the-field-PCR machines.

*end rant*

Mini JavaScript Tutorial

My cousin noticed I added a random quote generator to my title bar, and he asked if I wrote the script for random quotes. No. I stole it from his site. Actually, I modified it a little bit. If you want to see the source code, go up to the menu bar in your browser and choose the option that contains the word “source” — like “View Page Source” or something similar depending on what browser you’re using.

Anyway, so no, it’s not an exact copy of the script on his site.

I also found something kind of creepy on Queen_Asia’s site.