Here it is.
I hope you enjoy watching it as much I enjoyed making it.
Category: year26 (Page 37 of 92)
I posted an entry each day during my 26th year of life.
As reminded a few days ago, I promised to upload a video of me cutting my own hair with the Comb ‘n Cut. I have not forgotten. I’ll try to make some time tomorrow to edit what I currently have (so you won’t have to watch 10 minutes of me cutting with no comments in real time) and maybe record a short epilogue (as the video currently cuts off rather abruptly).
I don’t make promises that often, because I feel terrible when I break them. The word carries with it such heavy connotation that it’s hard not to think of all the weight I put onto myself when I make a promise.
While there’s no physical or material loss for breaking a promise, I always assume that a broken promise (no matter how big the promise is or how it was broken) will result in a loss of trust that will be hard to regain.
Maybe that isn’t true. Maybe people don’t take the idea of promises as grandly as I do. Still, words are important. A firm handshake, a promise, a sincere glance. All of these may not hold up legally in court, but they hold up in my court.
My honor court. My hourt.
Katie and I went to see Yellow Face tonight, which is a play about Asian-American racial identity, among other things.
It was interesting. I don’t spend all that much time thinking about the fact that I’m an Asian-American, and I haven’t really dwelt on the advantages and disadvantages that this label/community confers, but I do feel like I’ve always been aware of it my entire life.
That, and a recent splashy Newsweek cover article labeled “Is Your Baby Racist?” got me thinking. How much of my Chinese heritage will I impart onto my child? How much can I? How much should I?
Ideally, I’d like to give my baby the best parts of being an Asian-American and spare him or her the worst, but is it really up to me to decide which is which? Do I even know? And how good of a teacher will I be anyway?
As I’ve grown, I’ve felt less and less Chinese. I hardly speak the language anymore. I can’t read it at all. I can’t speak too intelligently on most Chinese culture and history. When I visit the country itself, I feel like a tourist, not like I’m returning home.
But that doesn’t change the fact that it’s a part of me, that I was born there, that I lived there for the first four years of my life. I like that I’ve Chinese, I’m proud of it. I guess I’m just not sure what it actually means to me or my unborn child just yet.
Vista Media Center is being troublesome and inconsistent.
Also, one of the cats just threw up about 7 times.
It’s late and I want to play some games before going to bed, but I’ve got other things that are a higher priority right now.
I feel cranky, and I don’t particularly like myself when I’m cranky.
At least I got to wear my Scribblenauts hat all day today.