• Attend class, where I had to give a short introductory-type speech
• Hand in my class portfolio
• Purchase ingredients to make Thai iced tea for a class potluck
• Make Thai iced tea
• Buy something for the boyfriend (he sometimes reads this blog, so I’m not going into anymore detail)
• Take notes on my Chinese presentation so I (hopefully) won’t butcher the pronunciation
• Make (and eat) breakfast
• Wash and put away my dishes

I can’t remember the last time I had a morning this productive.

1. My first memory is of visiting my mom and baby brother at the hospital when he was born. I wore a pink cardigan and held my dad’s hand.

2. When I turned five, my family moved away from Hong Kong and to Delaware, USA. I sat by an upstairs window in the new house and watched the movers unload boxes upon boxes, wondering when we would go back to Hong Kong.

3. I won a reading contest in first grade. I read 105 books in a month. The second place winner only read 23.

4. I was cast as the lead for the production of Firebird at my summer ballet camp at the ripe old age of six. While ballet would captivate me until age 15, Firebird would be the first and only time I was the lead in a production.

5. At age 11, my family moved to Australia. This had more of an impact on my formative years than anything else. Also, it is the reason why I am reasonably skilled in Aussie slang.

6. I had my first brush with rebellion at age 13. While remarkably short-lived, it sustained any desire to pursue further rebellion until I grew out of that phase altogether.

7. An avid writer, I completed my first manuscript at age 15. Totaling over 100,000 words, it essentially wove together three individual stories. However, it will never see the light of day.

8. I injured my knee during a dress rehearsal at my ballet studio at age 15. Any dreams of pursuing ballet further are put on indefinite hold. I have never danced ballet since (and miss it more than I thought possible).

9. In my fifteenth year my family moved once more, this time to Chicago. My first day there, I sat in my new room and cried as a blizzard roared outside the window.

10. My senior prom was one of my favorite memories from high school. It was a really fun evening that had glow-in-the-dark ice cubes and was a great send-off for the end of that chapter in our lives. My date was a friend who gave me a beautiful corsage that had eight roses.

11. My school in Chicago gave me unprecedented opportunities to travel. During my two years there, I was fortunate enough to travel to France, England, Tanzania and China. These experiences solidified my already profound love with traveling.

12. At age 18 I began my college career. My school of choice? American University in Washington, DC.

13. Halfway through freshman year, I realized that my major of international relations was giving me more headaches than anything else. I promptly switched to a communications major and fell in love with my studies.

14. I got my first job at American University’s Office of Merit Awards. Little did I know how this job would set the tone for my entire time at university. The majority of my successes in college can be traced back to this job.

15. The beginning of my sophomore year was one of the hardest periods of my life. But it taught me who my real friends are and to never give people the time of day if they’re not worth it.

16. In summer of 2010, I saw (with my own eyes!) Liesl and Rolf’s gazebo from the “Sixteen Going on Seventeen” number in “The Sound of Music.” Childhood dream come true? Most definitely.

17. I study abroad in Beijing for a year on a scholarship my junior year of college. This year changed my life like no other. I still get homesick for my life there.

18. I go backpacking for the first time during the summer of 2011, to southeast Asia for six weeks. I experienced so many wonderful and horrible things that I didn’t even know were possible.

19. After dancing around the question for about a year, the boy and I decide to finally begin dating officially. I promptly fall in love.

20. I’m set to graduate from American University in May 2012. As I search for job opportunities post-graduation, I try not to let my fear of ending up in a cardboard box on the site of the street overwhelm me as I undergo the grueling job search process.

I also never thought I’d have to defend my choice in reading narrative non-fiction over other genres (usually it’s the other way around!), but that seems to be possible, too.

Here’s what I’ve got so far:

• The Hunger Games Trilogy by Suzanne Collins
• The Gemma Doyle Trilogy by Libba Bray
• Kosher Chinese by Michael Levy
• Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother by Amy Chua

I’m not fully committed to reading all of these books over break, but these are the ones I had in mind to add to my Kindle. What else should I add?

Then I realized it was Thursday (not even Friday!) and I lost all willpower to even open my eyes, let alone get out of bed.

It’s been that kind of week.

I’ve gotten some weird comments from people as a result of this.

“You’re not Rob? Are you sure?”

“Wait, so what happened to Rob?”

“But who do I call for handyman services now?”

“If you’re not Rob, then transfer me to him.”

“I’m sorry for calling the wrong number. But do you have Jesus in your life?”

But even if I could photograph well, it still wouldn’t capture what the best parts of the meal were, the ones that will stay in my memory long after I’ve forgotten what the actual meal tasted like. How I creamed the eggs, butter and sugar for the cupcakes by hand as I didn’t have an electric mixer. The smell of my apartment in the early afternoon as the decadent aroma of delicious baked goods almost ready to be devoured wafted from the oven. The sizzling of bacon as I dropped each slice into the pan. The stickiness of the garlic cloves I minced on my warped chopping board. The coarse texture of the breadcrumbs I used to cover the gratin before baking. The tingle of Prosecco on my tongue every time I took a sip. The crispness of the vividly bright green beans, so nicely contrasted with the dense gnocchi. The bright burst of raspberry jam in the middle of each Victorian sponge cupcake, an unexpected surprise. The way my boyfriend’s face lit up when he saw what I had prepared for our dinner and dessert. How I curled up next to him on the couch as we watched our TV show together, long after every morsel of dinner had been demolished, happy and content.

Photography can’t even come close to capturing these memories. But at least words can.

We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It’s easy. The first girl I ever loved was someone I knew in sixth grade. Her name was Missy; we talked about horses. The last girl I love will be someone I haven’t even met yet, probably. They all count. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these loveable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.
- Chuck Klosterman

In other semi-related news, I will be baking a cake tonight for the boyfriend. It’s partially because it’s Valentine’s Day, but mainly because I just really wanted to bake him a cake. I’m awesome like that

I spent late Sunday afternoon and evening preparing dishes I was going to cook for the New Year. Dumplings were a given, of course; they represent wealth for the new year. I’ve never made 饺子 (dumplings) on my own before as my mom always made them when I was growing up, but they turned out really well and I was very pleased. I also made orange chicken, broccoli and chicken stir fry, and green scallion pancakes.

Come Monday (the first day of the New Year) I had some friends come over and we rang in the New Year together over good food and wonderful company. While nothing beats being in Hong Kong with my family for Chinese New Year, spending it with some of my “school family” is the next best thing.

Happy Year of the Water Dragon, everyone!