An Ode to Second Homes

The floor of the bathroom at Sara's place is, for some reason, about 1 1/2 inches higher than the rest of the apartment. Once upon a time, I used to trip and stub my toe on that stupid elevation every time, but this past week staying at her house, it didn't bother me at all. I didn't even notice it until someone who came over pointed it out, and I thought, "Wow, I've really grown into this place." It's like the moment you start thinking in a new language you've been trying to learn, or the moment you're able to drive to a previously unfamiliar location without thinking. There's the little click of a light bulb in your head that tells you, "Hey, you know this!"
We were calculating, and I believe it's seven times that I've stayed at Sara's place...around twice a year since we met in 2006. A little less when we were in high school, and a little more when we entered college. I love everything about her apartment, from the Charmin' toilet paper and Puffs tissues that always feel so good, to the fluffy purple blankets and row of stuffed animals on the bed, to the box of Maple Syrup Quaker's oatmeal Sara always has waiting in the pantry for me to eat. There's the blue sofa with the footrest that I always sit on, and the leather brown swivel chair that Sara always sits on when we watch TV. There's the closet where I hang my coat, the teddy bear I hug when we sleep, and the bluish-purple bath towel I use after showers. I've learned to close the toilet seat cover after using the bathroom, I know which exact drawer the nail clipper I constantly have to borrow is in, and I've finally figured out the complicated 3-lock routine on the door.
To be honest, I feel more comfortable at Sara's apartment than at my own in Boston. Maybe it's because of the hardwood floors (which I really appreciate and prefer over carpet), the big queen-sized bed (I LOVE big beds), or the TV and microwave (which I tell myself I don't need, but...I really do miss them). Maybe it's because I've known her place longer, and because it's in the PERFECT location--a newly-opened Trader Joe's, Ann Taylor Loft, Gray's Papaya, subway station, and Westside Diner all within a block away, and the Met/Carnegie Hall just five minutes away. Or maybe it's because of that dumb centipede that keeps popping up and scaring the living daylights out of me in Boston.
But I know that mostly, it's because of Sara. Like the fact that we can either stay up past 3am talking our heads off and laughing hysterically, or go straight to bed at 11pm and pass out without saying more than, "Shall we sleep?" "Yes. Good night!" When we're eating, we can stare at the TV and not talk at all, or we can discuss something really important/meaningful, and either way is fine. We'll take turns doing the dishes, cleaning up when there are guests, and she can always tell when I'm hungry and want to eat something in particular...she prepares food for me and listens to me practice, and despite her adamant insistences that she does not want kids or a husband, I just know she'd make a great mom.
I love my California home most of all, but as for second homes, I am so lucky as to have one of the best. :)

*** When we were getting in bed-
Sara: (looking for her stuffed animals) Where is everybody?

While I was practicing in the bedroom, which is adjacent to the bathroom-
Sara: Sorry, I have to poop.
Me: Oh okay, do you want me to move to the other room?
Sara: No, you can stay here. Geez Jennifer, it's not going to be that intense.

HAHAHA You see how awesome she is??

Two Vows

After taking a 5-hour bus ride to New York and a 5 1/2-hour bus ride back to Boston this past week, I firmly vow the following 2 things for the rest of my life:

1) If I ever have to take a young child on public transportation lasting more than 30 minutes, I will spend at least a week in advance training him/her to be quiet instantly upon my command. This is not just for my own sanity, but for the sanity of THOSE AROUND ME.

2) No matter what the circumstance, I will never ever participate in full-frontal PDA in crowded areas, especially airport terminals or train stations. I mean, congratulations on your successful relationship and great enthusiasm/passion, but come on...kissing for multiple seconds? With tongue? While everyone around you is trying to navigate around you and get home? In the words of the little boy sitting in front of me at the Mary Poppins Broadway show when Mr. and Mrs. Banks are about to kiss: Ew.

Anyway, time for some sweet potato soup, and then off to catch up on practicing. More later.

Friends

When A was visiting a few weeks ago, she looked through my Japan pictures from the past summer and told me, "You look so happy." Thinking back, I was a lot happier during the summer than I am now. I can barely remember what it feels like to be so carefree and live with almost no worries. Of course there were little concerns, like "I hope our concert goes well," or "We have to wake up by 7am tomorrow," but they didn't bother me much. And anxieties about the coming school year were WAY in the back of my mind. I miss that freedom...

Another thing I've been thinking about is, something happens when you have a select group of people that have been your closest friends for a long time. Especially if you're an introvert and have a very small number of people with whom you can legitimately open up...you start assigning roles to them. At least, I do. I go to Person A when I want to talk about what I did every day, like what I ate, where I went, something funny that happened in class, whatever. I go to Person B when I'm stressed about music, I go to Person C when I feel philosophical/intelligent (a rarity), Person D for family problems, Person E for relationship advice...etc. It became this way because when I have a conundrum, I need someone who a) is truly interested, b) won't judge me, and c) understands how I feel. A few weeks ago, I had a rough night and wanted/needed to talk it out. For the first time in my life, there was not one friend in whom I could confide. It's not that there was nobody trustworthy...that definitely wasn't the problem. It was that there was nobody who satisfied all three categories (interested, unbiased, and understanding). So I ended up calling two teachers, and then my parents, who are always always there for me.

I am SO lucky in that I can confidently name five people in this world who are not related to me but who will ALWAYS be willing to sit down, listen to whatever I have to say, and care about it. This is a huge blessing already. But sometimes, an attentive ear isn't enough...

Anyway, it's as if each person has their "assignment," and the question is, what happens when there is nothing to talk about within someone's realm of conversation? It's not like we COULDN'T talk about regular old things--these are first-tier friends I'm referring to. But the facts are: they are not in Boston, we're busy people, and our lives are sort of irrelevant...it's simply not practical to call someone just to tell them what I ate for lunch that day or something. On the one hand, it's wonderful to have people (who are not family) you can go to for specific problems/happenings. But when it comes down to plain old companionship, you can't reach out to your old friends who live thousands of miles away. You need people who are right here with you...and the thing about being an introvert is, it's rare/difficult enough to find people with whom you feel comfortable, whether or not their lives are in close conjunction with yours.

I feel like there are two general types of friends--indispensable and convenience friends. Indispensable friends are the ones you need...you see something in a store and just have to buy it for them, you go through a hard time and just have to hear their voice telling you it's okay. Convenience friends are always around, people you can go places with and have a good time. You might miss them as a group, but  less often will you miss them as individuals. Both types of friends are great, but I know which I gravitate toward.

What's scary is when you start falling out of touch with indispensable friends. I've been feeling that lately, because my daily life is centered so exclusively around music these days. As D said, what do you talk about when the only meaningful thing you did all day was practice? Are people going to be interested in discussing that? Uh, no. As a result, it's been an abnormally long time since I've talked to certain people, non-musicians in particular. Our lives move in different directions...and this is the point at which seemingly indestructible friendships may start to fade.

Fortunately, there are some people where it doesn't matter how long it's been, how much you differ, how far apart you live...when you come back to each other, it's just like old times. Some things never change. Which brings me to one of my favorite beliefs--that love is irrelevant to time spent together. It doesn't matter how often you talk or see each other, how much you relate--the love increases regardless.

I guess the point I've reached after this whole drawn-out ramble is, no matter how you view and deal with your friendships, recognize the ones that are indispensable, give them what they deserve, and trust in them...if they're real, they will last.

CENTIPEDE

NOOOOO...ANOTHER CENTIPEDE SIGHTING.
I was pounding a bag of frozen spinach on the counter to split it into smaller chunks when a big brown centipede scurried hurriedly across the stove behind the refrigerator. I think it's still there...I'm borrowing bug spray from a friend tomorrow morning, but ugh, it's going to be a long night. At least, unlike the first centipede sighting, I managed not to burst into tears. Sigh. :( It's times like these where I really miss my crazy mom, who would have no problem squishing the bug with her bare hand.


[11/18/2010 11:27:26 PM] Sefen.Hsu: don't think about it, just keep some good thought when you go to sleep, it will be fine
[11/18/2010 11:29:11 PM] jenniferwey: :( :( ok
[11/18/2010 11:30:06 PM] Sefen.Hsu: remember the song, 'my favorite things' in sound of music...  you can try that too

[11/18/2010 11:32:48 PM] jenniferwey: it moved so fast

[11/18/2010 11:33:08 PM] Sefen.Hsu: I think it is scared of you too
[11/18/2010 11:33:27 PM] jenniferwey: :( sigh
[11/18/2010 11:33:52 PM] Sefen.Hsu: it might run away
[11/18/2010 11:34:07 PM] Sefen.Hsu: out of your room!!

Please please...let it run away..........

It's times like these...

...that I appreciate Facebook.

In middle school, there was this guy with whom I was good friends. We had a lot of classes together, and we basically spent a lot of time in each other's company, running around, devising pranks to play on our teachers, and keeping each other entertained during the long boring hours of class. I think at one point, we even walked home from school together. Then in ninth grade, he moved away, and I didn't talk to him since then. I don't know why...we probably started hanging around different people, and then he left and we lost touch. In essence, he completely disappeared from my life, and I didn't give much thought to him after that.
At one point, we became Facebook friends, although I'm not sure how that happened, because he doesn't friend people, and neither do I...but anyway, a couple days ago, I got a message from him. I remember seeing the notification email and thinking, "What the heck? Maybe it's a forward or chain message or something." I clicked on it, and it basically said that he and his roommates decided this week to reconnect with their middle school crushes, and I was his only one. So, if I wanted to Skype and catch up on the last seven years or so, that would be really great.
First, I laughed for about five minutes straight, because it was so random and amusing and, I don't know, completely unexpected. But then we got in touch via Skype, started talking, and tonight, we ended up having a four-hour video chat. As he said, we've barely even scratched the surface, and there is still so much to say.
It's surreal. On the one hand, it was as if I was meeting him for the first time. I didn't even know what school he went to, what major he was, what kind of person he's become. His hair looks different, his clothes are different, and he's definitely grown up. But on the other hand, this is the guy I sat next to in eighth grade English every day...his mannerisms, his personality, and his sense of humor are like second nature to me. Within minutes, I was blabbing on and on, talking endlessly with him like I would with a first-tier friend...it was as if our seven years of silence had not existed. I was surprised at how natural/comfortable it was to suddenly share so much of my life with him. What's more, it seems that we matured and changed in quite similar ways over these years--not by affecting each other, but by simply learning the same lessons. The image I envision is two travelers walking down parallel roads...they don't meet, but they're going in the same direction. Discussing books, movies, music, drugs, school, family, friendship, relationships, marriage, individuality...we held the same principles for so many of these topics, on so many levels.
When we were fourteen, we'd sit and talk about the school dance, the Jogathon, the To Kill A Mockingbird assignment, how to make stars with rubber bands...and now that we're in our twenties (crazy), we talk about what jobs we want, past relationships, what we think about The Fountainhead, what makes quality music, what we like/dislike about ourselves... It is reassuring that while the topics change, the comfort and openness and ease doesn't. It is reassuring that a middle school friendship is significant enough to reappear seven years later. Most of all, it is reassuring that there are still people who see the value of making an effort to keep in touch. We're all busy these days; it is so easy to find an excuse to NOT take the initiative, call someone up, and find out how they're doing...not out of obligation or convenience, but because you really care. We all go around saying, "Aw I miss so-and-so" or "I miss the old days"...but not many people act on it. Even fewer people voluntarily dig out an old candle of a friendship, dust it off, and relight it.

:)

Middle School

The other day, I was recalling middle school memories with an old friend, and afterwards, I dug around my past online blogs and found some hilarious entries. Brought to you from the diary of 14-year-old Jennifer (but edited by present-day Jennifer, because 14-year-old Jennifer typed weirdly and had bad grammar):

MPU's=Mrs. Pierce's Ums. At first we thought it was so funny...I couldn't stop laughing every time we made a tally mark, but now it's just like a daily routine. "How many times did Pierce say 'um' today?" "245." "Cool."


The Tale of the Ice Cream: Once upon a time, a girl named Vera was extremely hungry and kept telling this to Jennifer in a line for a ride at Great America. Finally they finished the ride and went off in search for food. Vera found an ice cream store and got a huuuuuuge ice cream (it must have been about 8 inches long) and took about two licks before the whole thing slipped off the cone and fell to the ground. It was silent for awhile, and then both girls looked down. The ice cream slid slowly down the pavement.


No school today. I spent like a whole hour trying to get my Legolas poster to stick on the ceiling of my room. I had to keep jumping up and down on the bed. It was so hard...what a workout.


Today after break, we turned off all the lights and did the duck-and-cover to trick Pierce into thinking there was nobody in the classroom and she'd accidentally come to school on a Saturday. It didn't work, but when she finally got in, we all started singing Happy Birthday to her so she wouldn't get mad at us. I don't know whose crazy idea that was, but it was hilarious and ingenious all the same. You could tell she was confused...couldn't think of what to say, so she just smiled and walked to the front of the class like nothing had happened.


Good ol' eighth grade. In retrospect, possibly my favorite grade. :)

***More on with whom and why I was reminiscing in the next entry...it's a good story, so be excited.

Je suis bouffon.

"I can feel my brain beginning to atrophy already." -Calvin and Hobbes

Seriously, it's embarrassing.
Today in the middle of French, I realized I left the homework for Schenkerian Analysis (my next class) at the apartment. So during the 10 minutes between classes, I ran home to get it. Made it back on time, sat down, finished the homework in class, and concentrated every neuron in my brain to not doze off. We also listened to Fritz Wunderlich singing Schumann lieder, so I floated off into Jenniferland for a while. Then class ended, I left school, came home, and realized I forgot to turn in the homework.
A few days ago, I brought Chip (my violin) to French, because I had excerpt class later in the day. During passing, I went downstairs to print something, and I accidentally left Chip in the classroom. I didn't even realize something was missing until I came back upstairs and someone informed me that one of our classmates had my violin and was trying to find me. But I had to go to class first. Went in, sat down, and was in the middle of concentrating every neuron in my brain to not doze off, when that classmate walked in the room, handed me my violin case (of course I was sitting in the most inaccessible location, middle of the back row), and walked back out. The teacher sort of stared at me, went "...okay" and kept teaching.
A week or so ago, I was sitting in my apartment, eating lunch and staring out the window, not even doing anything. At 2pm, I realized I had completely forgotten to go to my 1pm class.
A few days before that, I was sharing a taxi with a girl, and the fare was $12. She had a twenty, and I had a bunch of ones. It took us so long to figure out how to split the fare that the taxi driver went outside for a smoke while we deliberated.

WHAT IS GOING ON???

Connie

You know my prayer plant Chloe? Well, my mom liked her so much, she got a miniature prayer plant for herself in California, and named her Connie.

Hehe, so cute. :)
Anyway, she's been worrying that the climate isn't humid enough for Connie, and tonight when I asked about it on Skype~

[10:53:40 PM] Sefen.Hsu:  my connie is kind of sad, I had to put her in shower after I'm done every day

Hahahahahaha I love my mom...

The Case for Christ

Just a note before I copy out my favorite quotes: A few months ago, I was talking to a trusted friend about religion and how hard it is to reach beyond the barrier it sometimes creates. We talked about the loneliness of being the only Christian among close friends, and the desire/wariness to share your faith. A while later, I got a lovely snail mail package from her that contained a book called The Case for Christ. I finished it in 2 days--the fastest I've read a book since those good ol' Harry Potter days. The author was an atheist (Chicago Tribune journalist from Yale) setting out to disprove Christianity through archaeological and biological evidence. After 21 months of research, he came to accept Jesus as a real man who not only changed lives, but who existed/exists as the son of God. I think this book addresses the skeptic in all of us, believer or non-believer...to some degree, everyone needs logic and proof behind their beliefs. It hurts and angers me when people turn away from Christianity without bothering to learn more about it. At the same time, I don't think it's right to latch onto a religion without knowing its history and reliability first. Faith is such a huge determining factor in your life, that none of us should claim to have it figured out until we know a whole lot more about it.
I don't write this entry or recommend this book to change someone's mind. I don't expect atheists to listen to me and say, "You're right! I'm convinced!" What I do hope is that people will take initiative and find the information for themselves before turning away.

Favorite Quotes:
There are religious symbols that are quite meaningful to people--the symbol of Jesus being divine, of the cross, of self-sacrificial love, of the Resurrection. Even though people don't really believe that those things actually happened, they nevertheless can inspire people to live a good life, to overcome existential angst, to realize new potentialities, to resurrect hope in the midst of despair--blah, blah, blah...So these liberals say historical research can't possibly discover the Jesus of faith, because the Jesus of faith is not rooted in history. He's merely a symbol...but listen: Jesus is not a symbol of anything unless he's rooted in history...The theological truth is based on historical truth. I don't want to base my life on a symbol. I want reality, and the Christian faith has always been rooted in reality.


It's like this: if you love a person, your love goes beyond the facts of that person, but it's rooted in the facts about that person. For example, you love your wife because she's gorgeous, she's nice, she's sweet, she's kind. All these things are facts about your wife, and therefore you love her. But your love goes beyond that. You can know all these things about your wife and not be in love with her or put your trust in her, but you do. So the decision go beyond the evidence, yet it is there also on the basis of the evidence. So it is with falling in love with Jesus. To have a relationship with Jesus Christ goes beyond just knowing the historical facts about him, yet it's rooted in the historical facts about him.


If you do something against me, I have the right to forgive you. However, if you do something against me and somebody else comes along and says, "I forgive you," what kind of cheek is that? The only person who can say that sort of thing meaningfully is God himself, because sin, even if it is against other people, is first and foremost a defiance of God.


I go through the books that people write to try to tear down what we believe. That's not fun to do, but I spend the time to look at each objection individually and then to research the context and the wording in the original language...And every single time, the prophecies have stood up and shown themselves to be true.
So here's my challenge to skeptics: don't accept my word for it, but don't accept your rabbi's either. Spend the time to research it yourself. Today nobody can say, "There's no information." There are plenty of books out there to help you.


Jesus intentionally walked into the arms of his betrayer, he didn't resist arrest, he didn't defend himself at his trial--it was clear that he was willingly subjecting himself to humiliating and agonizing torture...So when you ask what motivated him, well, I suppose the answer can be summed up in one word--and that would be love.

And this one is C. S. Lewis, another former skeptic:
I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: "I'm ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don't accept His claim to be God." That is the one thing we must not say....You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.

Mei

I've been meaning to write a happy birthday entry for my sister, but the week of September 30 was kind of a chaotic one for me. So here is a belated shout-out to my favorite girl in the world. :)

When Mei turned seven, I gave her a composition notebook that I hoped we could use as a shared journal, a place where we could spill secrets, ask nosy questions, and write about our days. The two of us planned to write an entry every night and place the notebook under the other person's pillow (our "secret hiding place"), where Mom and Dad wouldn't find/read it. It wasn't like we didn't see enough of each other that we had to exchange letters...it's just that, as anyone with siblings will know, there are certain things that just don't get said amidst brushing your teeth side by side, eating dinner with the family, or passing each other around the house. I also figured that since Mei was entering second grade, she might start liking boys or at least thinking about the "birds and the bees"...and I wanted to be the first to know, if/when this happened.
We've written each other regularly ever since, and when I left for college, we continued the journal online. This past summer, Mei and I decided to dig out that first composition notebook we shared and read through old entries. Here are my favorites:

 

In case the photo isn't clear, it says: "Jennifer, this is a secret so don't tell anybody not even Dippindots. O.k. this is it. I like you more than anybody else? YOU KNOW WHAT?"

(Dippindots was my bunny.)

I love the random drawing of a boat in the middle, and how she crossed out =( and changed it to =/ after mentioning Cameron. I love my sister...

(Sorry, I don't know why it's sideways.)

Mei has a lot of unique qualities--complete randomness (as exhibited above), an unpredictable temper (the Water Gun Incident, in which she hit an annoying little boy on the head with a water gun, and also the time she bit her preschool teacher), effortless hilarity (her imitations of Dad are incredible), acquiring the strangest injuries (sitting on her own thumb and spraining it, being knocked out by the zip line at school, running into a pole etc.), not to mention her unparalleled skill of avoiding any form of work. But if I had to pick one trait that sets her apart from the masses, it's her sweetness.

When she was a baby, she sat in my room and watched me practice, then she would wobble over to her toy chest, take out two plastic sticks, and mime playing a violin with them. When I entered high school, she bragged to all her friends about her sister, the "refreshment" (she meant to say "freshman"). And now that she is the freshman in high school and I'm in college across the country, she still shares her life details with me...I know about her Group at school, who likes whom, what the homecoming themes are...If we don't have a chance to talk on the phone, she writes in our blog, and she reads what I write too.

Some people think in words, others think in images, sound bites, or feelings/sensations. When I think of people, I think in snapshots, and when Mei comes to mind, these are the snapshots that play out in my brain: 

-her running downstairs to get my textbook for me from my room because I'm too lazy to walk there myself

-her bursting into tears whenever I mentioned leaving for college

-her always giving me the bigger half when we split food

-the pride in her eyes when she tells people about me

-her jumping to my defense when I argued with Mom and Dad (although she usually hindered more than helped)

-her sitting patiently on my bed at 2am as I sobbed over some heartbreak or another

-her laughing at my jokes/weirdness so hard that she can barely breathe

The amazing thing is, over the years and now that she's a teenager, she hasn't lost any of that sweetness. 

A) She loves our parents and makes an effort to spend time with them, even if they annoy her. Like last Halloween, I asked, "So did you go trick-or-treating?" and she said, "Nah, my friends went, but Dad was too tired, so I stayed home with him."

B) When I'm home, she's still my personal servant...she follows me around the house and gets me water/food or whatever I want. Of course I ask for it politely and stuff, but still. Actually she's pretty much the family lapdog...Dad is always making her get ice cream and orange juice and stuff like that for him.

C) Every night, she tells my parents that she loves them. And she says it first...it's not like the typical teenager situation where the parent goes, "I love you," and the kid goes "Yeah yeah, love you too."

D) I'm still her best friend. I know we're sisters and it's not that big of a deal, but this seriously means the world to me. Remember that first photo above? Well, here is something she wrote in our blog about a week ago: "When Jonathan and I were doing this dialogue thing for classwork, he was like, 'so what's your favorite person's initals?" and i'm like, 'j w' because well JENNIFER WEY. and then he's like 'jonathan walters?' and i was like 'wowwww no. jennifer wey...' hahahaha who on earth would say something like that?? so ridiculous. Oh well. OKAY well i'm going to sleeepppp. GOOD NIGHTEO! <3"

Some things never change (I hope). I'm sure she doesn't realize it, but every time she writes to me, it makes me so happy...my whole day just lights up.

Having siblings is indispensable. I am lucky enough to have the greatest, sweetest, loveliest sister imaginable, and there is really nobody in my life quite like her.