Video Blog #2: French Toast

Today's video shows a glimpse of our kitchen, my two lovely roommates, and our developing cooking skills.

Breakfast for dinner! Yum yum yum. :)

Video Blog #1: Hail

Yesterday night, I was planning to upload photos I've taken thus far onto my computer, but I was too lazy. This morning, I lost my camera (along with my ID and apartment key) in the bathroom at school...so now I guess I'll have to resort to taking videos instead of photos for visual documentation of my time at Aspen. Well, that might be more fun anyway. Here's the first of what will hopefully become a consistent series of video blogs:

HAIL!!! The California girl inside of me was shocked and a little alarmed, but nobody else seemed fazed. I guess this is normal Colorado weather?

One on One

My old boyfriend told me once, "You're definitely a one-on-one girl, Jennifer." I think he was just making a simple observation, but one could easily take it as a compliment or criticism. There are people who just aren't good with big groups...in the midst of a crowd, they become seemingly quiet, mellow, and even boring/dull. If you are trustworthy and get them to yourself, they open up and show their true colors. I've always been aware of this type of people because, well, I'm pretty sure I'm one of them. What I haven't been aware of until recently is those on the other end of the social spectrum. We all know those people who shine in crowds, who are the life of the party, whose charisma and wit and creativity seem to grow with each additional person's attention. I admire this quality, because I could never in a million years embody it. But now I realize that sometimes, if you take these type of people out of the crowd and into a one-on-one situation, their personality either diminishes or changes altogether. I wonder if they are insecure about this the way I am insecure about being with tons of people.
I also wonder, about some people in particular, whether they are more true to themselves when they're with their big group of friends, or when they're with me.
Of course, there are those rare individuals who are the whole package; they shine whether they're with their best friend or a roomful of new acquaintances. Their good heart and friendliness and considerateness remains, regardless of the circumstance. But people like that come only once in a blue moon.

Expectations

I remember reading a physics article a long time ago about reverse causality and an experiment some scientists were conducting to examine the "notion that time might flow backward, allowing the future to influence the past." It's a very complex matter, way over my head, but if I look at the theory on a personal level, it;s basically about whether or not people have free will. If reverse causality exists, then our every action is predetermined.
There are countless instances in which I've attempted to trick fate into complying with my desires and hopes. Let's say I'm taking a test and want to get an A. The test comes and goes...either I work hard and feel good, or I don't work hard and probably don't feel good. Then I spend the remaining time before the results come out determinedly telling myself, "You probably didn't get it. Don't expect anything." Partly I do this to prevent myself from possible disappointment; but in a way, I'm also trying to fool destiny into going my way, because things are never supposed to turn out the way you expect, right? Sometimes, this "worked," and sometimes it didn't. After reading the physics article, I realized that these ridiculous routes I take to try and coax fate into my favor are useless, because no matter what sort of path you make--straight, curved, or unnecessarily convoluted, in my case--you'll end up at the same destination.
We just don't know what this destination is yet, so we do the best we can to lead ourselves as close to our ideal goal as possible. I guess therein lies our free will--how to deal with the inevitable story that, in a way, has already been written for us. (Sophie's World?)
I sometimes believe expectations are my biggest weakness. I view expectations like a strategy game, and I am constantly monitoring them to keep myself from jumping to conclusions and ending up disappointed. I try to expect the worst, or expect every possible outcome, so that I'll be prepared for anything. But in the end, I'm an optimist, and my persistent high hopes end up stubbornly shoving their way back into my brain. "Maybe I'll get lucky, it's happened before," or "I deserve it, so it'll probably happen."
I had a specific, slightly silly expectation for this summer. Let's call it Destination A. It should not be a big deal, and I don't even know if I want it to happen or not. I was just pretty sure that it would, and after rationalizing with myself, I decided this assumption was justified. It was one of those times when I tell myself, "This isn't hoping...this is practically factual. Of course it will happen!"
Well, I think I was wrong. You can never make assumptions about the future and call them factual...whether it's something silly like Destination A, or something incredibly significant, like the continuance of your own life...no matter how reasonable it seems.
This is a very scatter-brained post. (You can tell by the small paragraphs.) Maybe I'll edit it into something that makes a slight bit of sense later. Just wanted to get it out.

Dad

In honor of Father's Day, here is the usual collection of journal entries, photos, and other miscellaneous stuff to illustrate my

Favorite Things About Dad:

1) His random love for Sushi Boat.
Dad was so funny--he came barging in my room to interrupt my practicing and ask what I wanted for dinner...I was like, "I don't care, anything," and he went, "So...you want take out?" "Well I don't care, whatever you want." "Oh, so you want Sushi Boat take out? Okay great!" ...ha, he loves Sushi Boat.


2) His interactions with Mei.
Mei was playing Chopin on piano (it sounded pretty atonal), and Dad was all, "Whenever Mei plays piano, all my stocks drop." HAHAHA so hilarious. And what's even funnier is that Mei isn't even insulted when we laugh at her playing...she even joins in.


HAHA oh dear. Dad just accidentally ate Mei's bag lunch that she packed for herself. Mom is hysterical with laughter.

3) His super long prayers (long mostly because he talks. So. Slowly).
Mei: Dad, you don't have to pray for me tonight, I can pray by myself.
Dad: Nooo...I want to! I have to! I must to!
Mei: *sigh*


4) How he keeps his computer on Caps Lock. First he said it's because it's bigger and easier for him to read, but eventually we found out that he just can't figure out how to turn the Caps Lock off. So every time we chat on Skype, it looks like he's super excited.
[12:28:10 AM] Shinshi Wey: GOOG NIGHT!

(He's also not the best at spelling.)

5) How he dresses up whenever he goes out, for no apparent reason. I guess he just likes wearing suits, although I can't imagine why.
This morning-
Me: Dad, why did you dress up to go to your dentist appointment?
Dad: Well, I might go look for the rice cooker for church afterwards.
Me: Well...why do you have to dress up for that?
Dad: ...I don't know!


6) How he gets confused with English words.
We were talking about musicians with mental disorders today over dinner (don't ask why), and Dad was all, "Yes, it's like that movie, what's it called? Cocoa nuts? Coconut?" It turned out he was trying to talk about One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

7) How he always falls asleep. Once he came stomping out of the office all disgruntled, and when we asked what was wrong, he said that he'd fallen asleep at the computer with his finger on the "d" key, and ended up typing 5 pages of "dddddddddd" during his nap. Then after he woke up, he spent 15 minutes erasing it all (I guess it didn't occur to him to just highlight it and press delete).

8) His complete lack of understanding how to take care of plants.
Mom said that Dad called her while she was in Taiwan. He was standing in the family room staring in puzzlement at Christine (the prayer plant), and apparently he was asking, "What is wrong with this plant?" and when Mom went, "Why?" he was complaining about how it was brown and withered. "Well...did you water it?" "No. Why?"


9) Since I've basically been making fun of him this whole time, here's a serious one.

It was hot, as usual, in Taiwan, and I felt the sun's rays attach themselves immediately to my hair and scalp as I stepped out of the black car. The building where Grandma's funeral would take place was crowded, and resembled a row of stores at the Gilroy outlets. Mom went to park the car while Mei and I were given black robes to put on. I was exasperated because I had spent the whole morning choosing an "appropriate" black outfit for the occasion, and it turned out that what I wore didn't even matter. The customary Taiwanese funeral robe was so large, my shoes barely peeked out from under its edges. The ceremonial room had air conditioning and enough folding chairs for maybe fifty people. At the front, there was a pulpit, an electric piano, and a white display with a framed picture of Grandma. It was a nice photo--she's laughing and she looks healthy. The atmosphere was dreary and somber, but more restless than anything. The minister talked and we prayed. At one point, family members were told to gather around the coffin and body to "say good bye," but I stood back because I knew I could never deal with seeing Grandma's actual body. I think it was more witnessing the people I love suffer than actually losing Grandma that hit me hardest. Soon, it was time for speeches from children and grandchildren of the deceased. Dad went first. Neither of my aunts spoke...maybe because they wouldn't be capable of getting through a speech during such an emotional time. Dad walked up to the pulpit. I was praying so hard for him...I don't know if I've ever prayed that hard in my entire life. I had sort of talked to him about his speech beforehand, and he kept telling me how he might not be able to get through the whole thing. But I'd heard his speech, and the most moving part is the end. It basically starts with a brief history of Grandma's past...her upbringing, religion, occupation, marraige, motherhood. Then he described her as a mother and moved on to her sickness. He said that she had the best care possible during her last few years, and that her unconditional love will always be present, despite her death. He was already red-eyed when he began, and I could tell he was really nervous. In the middle, he sort of choked up and had to pause a couple times. People around me were sniffing and crying, but strangely I didn't feel sad. All my energy was channeled into praying for him and internally chanting for him to keep going, encouraging him and cheering him on. And when he finally finished his speech, I don't think I've ever been prouder of anyone.

At that moment, I realized what a heart my father has. To be able to write a speech like that, and then deliver it, despite the overwhelming grief and despair that must have been coursing through him, is truly admirable. His speech was what sustained me through the next few days--I knew that if Dad was strong enough to bear the pain, we would all get through all right in the end. 

My Objections to Sports

1) When people make an absurd amount of money betting on certain players/teams. Yes, it is your money and you have a right to do whatever you choose with it, but it seems not only wrong but also pathetic to get your big bucks through someone else's years of hard work. These athletes put an unspeakable amount of blood, sweat, and tears to get where they are today. I know I certainly haven't worked one-tenth as hard as these guys, yet I'd still be FURIOUS if anyone made even $100 off a success of mine, simply because they thought I was a good bet. It just isn't right. It's nice to believe in your sports celebrities and cheer hard for your heroes, but to make money off of them is just stupid.
What about gambling, like in poker and at casinos? Well, that's stupid too, but it can be fun, and you're playing with CARDS and DICE, not other people's careers and passions and dedication.

2) When it generates so much negative emotion. It seems like everyone these days has something mean and scathing to say about Lebron James, and he's got his own tight-lipped retorts to shoot right back at his haters. As a spectator who enjoys watching basketball but is neither an enthusiast (at all) nor from Cleveland, my opinion on the matter is this. So he grew up playing basketball in Cleveland and became the city's pride and joy...that's great, but he still has a right to do whatever he thinks is best for his career. Valuing championships over his team/hometown may be selfish, but it's his choice to make. Furthermore, his decision to join Miami wasn't a FAILURE like the media keeps emphasizing...they got to the Finals, didn't they? It was short-sighted of James to make big talk about a guaranteed win, but that's no reason to celebrate over his loss. It's the same principle as throwing a party when Bin Laden died, or laughing gleefully when an unfriendly ex-boyfriend gets dumped. It's just taking the work of fate/karma and turning it into a personal victory, which is an immature and petty way to react, in my opinion. But now I'm getting sidetracked. In any case, there is some truth to what Lebron said...people can cheer at his "failure," but in the end, how does it really affect their own self pride and satisfaction?

On a side note, I do appreciate sports, even though I don't understand them most of the time. I appreciate how it bring communities closer together, and how it makes talented people work their hardest and shine their brightest. Every time I see a huge crowd of loyal fans' reaction as their team scores a winning point, I get teary. Remember ALL the videos of America's reaction when Landon Donovan scored that goal in the World Cup? Beautiful.

Diet

I've decided to start a new diet. It's called, don't eat unless you're hungry, and stop eating when you're full.
So far, I've lost 5 pounds. :)

I wish everything in life were this easy.

Light

This is a Christian-geared entry. I hope that doesn't deter anyone from reading on.

“Once you were ‘darkness’, but now as Christians you are ‘light’. Live then as children of the light…For light is capable of showing everything for what it really is. It is even possible for light to turn the thing it shines upon into light also.” -Ephesians 5

The Bible describes light in many contexts—as a metaphor for judgment, truth, and hope, among others. Most interesting to me is God’s calling for us not only to embrace light but to actually become light. What is the role of a light, and what does it mean to be one? Lights are illuminants, used to reveal and clarify the world around us. The paradox of an effective light is that, while it's bright and powerful, it doesn't exist to be seen. Staring directly into the sun, the world’s strongest light source, causes blindness. People rarely look at a light bulb or the flame of a candle and say, “Wow, what a beautiful light!” Instead, we view and appreciate what the light shines upon. The more I read the Bible, the more I notice the duality of many Christian ideals, and light is no exception. A good light shines brightly, not for the purpose of being noticed itself, but so that its surroundings will be noticed.

There are three main ways I thought of to apply this to daily life:

1) With people. When you care about someone, nothing brings you more joy than to give that person the most happiness you possibly can. I think we’re all generally familiar with this feeling, because God is love, and we are creatures of God and therefore creatures of love. While we work to shine beams of happiness into people’s lives, we can also illuminate these people to the world. A good teacher enlightens his pupil, but he shines a spotlight onto his student as well. He proudly displays a gifted student, not to promote himself as a successful instructor, but to promote a young talent worthy of attention. A good symphony conductor must know the music he is presenting better than anyone else on the stage and shower his fellow musicians with insight during rehearsals, but his ultimate job is to shine a spotlight on his orchestra and let them glow.

2) With music. A musician is a means by which a composer’s expressive ideas can be communicated. The ultimate purpose of music-making is to shine a light on the music, not yourself. Of course, performing personally and intimately is necessary, but I’ve found that a performance with selfless aims touches a far greater audience than a performance with selfish aims.

3) With God. As humans, we are constantly susceptible to sin—and by sin, I mean anything that separates us from God. As in all relationships, though it is natural for us to love, it is also natural for us to constantly revert back to ourselves and what is best for us. God wants us to love ourselves, but I believe He wants us to do this through our love of Him. As “children of the light,” every action that we live out during our time on earth should reflect God...not in order to attain salvation, but out of love and gratitude for Him.

(There is a common misconception that Christians obey God to avoid eternal damnation. It is true that we recognize the terrifying reality of hell. But that’s not why we have our beliefs. As Lord Tennyson writes, “The heart stood up and answered, ‘I have felt.’” When we feel divine love, this is our inspiration for faith.)

1 AM in the Wey Household

*bong bong bong* footsteps up the stairs

*shuffle shuffle* across the hallway

*creeeeak* kitchen cabinet opening

*rustle rustle rustle* rifling through miscellaneous snack bags

pause

*creeeeak* *clonk* kitchen cabinet closing

*shuffle shuffle* back across the hallway

*bong bong bong* footsteps down the stairs

pause

*munch munch munch munch munch* in my bed

As told by a disgruntled Mom in the morning.

Teeheehee. :) And although it's been several years now, in the midst of my midnight-snack escapades I can still hear, clear as day, A's low exasperated voice going, "Jennifer, you're such a fattie."

Composers

I'm not a fan of re-blogging, but this entry is too funny not to post, and too witty to attempt rephrasing. Here are my favorite parts:


Top 10 Composers Who Make You Seem Cool When You Tell Other Musicians You Like Them

You go to a friend’s concert/opera performance/chamber recital at an acclaimed school of music or summer festival.  You’re invited to the party afterwards.  There is  wine, there is cheese, there’s a respectable collection of craft brews.  There’s a strange mix of young people and old hangers-on, all of whom are way too intense and riled up because of the concert.  There’s really awkward background music.  Cathartic drinking abounds; inappropriate touching ensues.

You find yourself in a conversation with the type of people who want to talk about their favorite composers at a party.  This is already bad news.  Your instinct to retreat is a good one.

But let’s say you’re trapped next to the drink table, or you have a fighting spirit, or this is Imaginationland, and there are some hotties at an orchestra party who you want to impress.  You need a list of composers who are Academy approved, under-appreciated, but not so outré that only the lamest of the music theory geeks has ever even heard of them.

1. J. S. Bach

No musician, be they orchestralist, vocalist, Old Music-ist, New Music-ist, keyboardist or lutenist will disparage the name of J. S. Bach.

If you say Bach, you leave yourself open to a discussion of his individual pieces.  You can save yourself a lot of valuable time and listening by simply memorizing the letters BWV.  BWV stands for Bach-Werke-Verzeichnis (which you don’t have to memorize) and refers to a listing of all Bach’s works.  If pressed for an opinion on your favorite Bach piece, insert any three digit combination after the letters BWV.  Do so with absolute confidence.  Most musicians will think you’re talking about one of their own favorite pieces.  Go with it.  If not, they’ll assume you’re refering to some unknown masterwork and murmur in agreement.  In the unlikely case that they don’t immediately follow this by offering their favorite Bach piece, ask them for it right away.

They will not respond with a BWV number.  Do not press the issue.

3. György Ligeti

Show your flare for the avant-garde by working Ligeti into the conversation.  Do not attempt pronunciation of his first name unless you are fluent in Hungarian. 

7. Franz Schubert

Say “Winterreise” (pronounced “vin-ter-rise-ah”), and really say it like you mean it.  Express a heartfelt connection to it.  You may express admiration for any symphony up through number 9, excepting number 7.  If you do happen to slip up and mention the non-existent seventh, there are two recourses: 1) say that you assumed everyone had switched over to the new European numbering system for Schubert symphonies, or 2) say, “oh, I mean the ersatz seventh symphony.  But we all know that story…”

10 Composers Who You Should Never Admit Liking To A Musician Who Considers Him or Herself Serious

6. Alfred Schnittke

No one will know who he is.  The very few who do will either a) not have been instructed what to think of him, b) will call him “Shit-ke” and chuckle, or c) will be a violist and will actually think you’re really cool, something you want to avoid at all costs.

9. Johann Strauss

Jr. or Sr., or any other member of the Strauss family, for that matter, up to and including Charles Strouse, but excluding Richard Strauss, even though his name is better left unmentioned anyway.

10. Niccolò Paganini

The only people who won’t scoff will be violinists.  They’ll cringe.

[Disclaimer: I only vouch for this advice in mainland America.  An entirely different set of rules may apply in Europe, especially in Germany.  Use with caution.]