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| This had a good going. Began during my freshman year of college until now. It had a good seven years. | | |
| "You're grandmother died last month."
Curiously, I could only think about the super dryness of my asahi beer as my father told me the information. Here I am, having a beer with dad in a Japanese restaurant in downtown San Francisco. I'd imagined the first time sharing beer between father and son would be more memorable, more of a mile stone in their relationship. But this wasn't.
For the first time, I legitimately felt angry at my dad. My last grand parent passing away without ever knowing my existence and also the verbal acknowledgement that he actively hides my existence to his wife and kids. I told him, how after I finished applying to medical school, how I'd like to visit Korea and to visit his family. Literally, he just brushed it off, didn't even mention a word in response. I felt I was deprived of something intangibly important that I could never get back. Many of my friends had visited their grandmothers recently because of their frail health back in China. I guess it's the season of dying grannies. My mother's parents died when she was in her teens (something she frequently mentions to emphasize the fortunate circumstance to have a mother at my age.) And my grandfather passed away a few years ago, I've also found out.
I kept myself trying not to get angry at my mom, who was tauting about the dangers of traveling to mainland China, while criticizing my mom. I spoke in a mix of mandarin and English, telling her that she shouldn't believe everything that she reads in the tabloids and that I would definite proof that indeed the people in China eat their newborn babies. (Perhaps that's how they deal with the one child policy, but probably people deal with that with sterilizations and IUDS) Me speaking Mandarin in front of my dad made it all apparent, how un-Korean I was, despite all my efforts to self identify.
I'm not sure if I'm going to arrange for my mom to pick him up in the airport. Not sure if I even want to have dinner with him. In fact, dinner with him was formal and frankly, really boring. There was nothing between us we could talk about.
The next time he calls me, I'm not sure if I'm going to pick up the phone.
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| It's been ages since writing on this blog. Currently living in the Inner Sunset with some former roommates. Still working at UCSF Mission Bay doing science, whatever that means. Almost two years out of college, the time I spent in Berkeley is a distant memory in my mind. Though my life hasn't really changed much since then. Everything just transitioned into slightly different activities.
I'm fortunate to be working for the Reiter lab. It doesn't seem like work, but rather, an activity that I feel a personally invested in. Though sometimes repetitive, as with everything in life, I enjoy the experiments, reading and daily interactions at the job. Things have worked out pretty well. I got one publication under my belt, though only a 2nd author (http://www.nature.com/nm/journal/vaop/ncurrent/full/nm.2011.html), but for once in my life, I get something extra, some frosting on my life cake.
I'm still spending time at the Berkeley Free Clinic. It's been a great four years, though it's painful to see people come and go. Though I feel more and more capable and as I take on more and more responsibility, I'm saddened to see so many of my colleagues move on with their lives, going to off to medical or graduate school. I find myself with plenty of time to sit and either meditate with the daily commute.
Neither tremendously happy nor seriously depressed about anything, life's just steadily running by. I'm not applying to medical school this year, but I'll be doing that this upcoming June. It's a bit crazy in my mind, everything's done, the MCAT, my classes, the work I've put into this endeavor for the past 6 or so years, it's coming to fruition.
I try to read here and there, try to relax, try to get regular sleep. I've started to do kick boxing at a local gym at the request of a friend (I promised him I'd get into that world of mixed martial arts).
I'll be taking an introduction to business class for kicks that meets once a week.
Other than that, I'm wearing the same old red shorts, drinking my Philz coffee, listening to NPR, and being Allen.
Though lonely at times, with some friends gone off to the southern hemisphere, some friends going off to medical school and other good friends going to the East Coast (especially my intellectual conversation partner of six arts), nothings too bad.
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| I've spent the last six years working on an identity. I've shaped it through various avenues and pursuits; all sincere and always through natural interest.
But I've come to realize that the Allen that you all know, isn't the Allen that I want to be. I've had a few deep conversations with many friends and though cliche, I really don't know who the fuck I am anymore. It's not one of those, having a dramatic experience or selling your soul for money type of events. It's that I woke up one day and felt it. Nothing more than that. I can feel like I could rip open my skin and just pop out.
(NERD TALK WARNING SKIP NOW)
This is perhaps, the most apt analogy. Imagine, if you will, putting Megatron's Spark, into Optimus Prime's body. I'm not saying I'm the leader of the decepticons, nor can I transform into a truck, but I feel like something isn't fitting together within me.
I've done a lot, reflected a lot, but I've had this yearning to be more than I am now. I'm a fat, half korean, caterpillar, too lazy to spin my web of cocoon, or just can't cause he's eaten so much subway.
That is indeed the saddest thought, don't you think? The caterpillar that never becomes a butterfly. Instead, he's stuck on his leaf eating away, one foot long at a time.
Now, let me go back to the business of living.
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| Everything in my life just all of a sudden, got even more intense. Work's been rough, going to have to start teaching again for the Free Clinic and above all, I gotta apply to medical school. Holy shit.
I guess this is when I find myself thriving; when I'm on the edge of a complete mental collapse. Somehow, this is what I wanted in my life. Busy, busy, busy, busy.
But life's good to me. I'm generally happy and I can't complain about much. Got some loud roommates, but I had my fun, I work pretty hard and I don't have anything super dramatic.
I've begun to notice more about everyday life. I can't seem to explain it. It's more of a keener self awareness of my everyday actions. I am seeing the connections of all the consequences of what I do and don't do. I'm less afraid to deal with people up front and most importantly, to owe up to what mistakes that I did, immediately, rather than to have it stew and build up in myself. Rather than have my worries fester in my soul, I let it be a friendly reminder and I just act accordingly. It's really really subtle but it's there.
Anyways, will be moving again in August, back to my usually antics of living in the living room. That's my natural ecology anyways. It's not like I need or really utilized privacy. Who needs that when you have 400$ extra dollars in your pocket?
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