Rants and Rambles

Finally, the tree branches aren't white because of snow! Also happy 1st birthday to this blog! It is remarkable how a person's perception of time changes so drastically depending on their mood. The two (stretched into three) weeks of Winter Break seemed like an eternity, but Spring Break slipped by even faster than the length of a YouTube ad when you realize what are they selling. February and the first half of March have been utterly a rollercoaster. From personal, trivial things like the new school semester to tumultuous events around the world, my road into the spring has not been going smoothly at all. Still, I am so fortunate to have time to reflect on the current happenings by writing, my chief source of relaxation and contemplation. As though not writing down my thoughts would end up bursting my balloon of patience! If writing doesn't help me to calm down, cookies I got from my neighbors for St Patrick's Day will. The first major change that I have been going thr...

golden flecks of treasure, bits of sunshine brought home from April morning by the dewy grass where the stream running by soft beds, the misty air, and twirling cedars cheer for a bountiful catch – all worth for the backache. a run to Walmart in the mud rewarded with lofty mountains of salt ready to be drizzled onto the latticed layers of exhausted aquatic residents crisscrossing between the waters of the Atlantic now find a good rest into a capsule, this crystalline glass vase nestled under the pantry. silvery eyes linger at the steaming dishes from the kitchen, where Mom is slicing red chili pepper and drying them under the very sun, half the country away. while Olympics athletes yearn to change bronze into silver I crave to see the vase changing its shade, from silver to bronze. plump layers withering with hypertonic cells, an osmosis of seconds or probably patience seeping in. Did three years pass? Alas! the specks of amber-colored goodness flowing down the cheesecloth, leave behin...

                           Writer's note: So here you go, a translation of that Vietnamese post, but the joy of Lunar New Year in the air needs no interpretation.  Once upon a Saturday morning, a full-blown sleep was programmed in my brain to make up for all the wretched mornings for school, when a shuffling noise from the kitchen woke me up. Despite the noise, I struggled to resist the enticing warmth of the heater and get out of bed. Still, in my rumpled pajamas, I crept down the stairs to see Mom sitting beside the wooden table, meticulously peeling bulbs of  kiệu (a type of onion). A bowl chock-full of washed pigs' ears (yes, you've heard it right) was lying right beside, with the veins ingraining like the wavy patterns of the wooden table. Seeing me agape, Mom chuckled, "It's the Kitchen God's Day in Vietnam, so why not have some kiệus ?" I simply stood there, inhaling every bit of the pungent smell of...

Writer's note: Special edition in Vietnamese this January, as Tet (Vietnamese Lunar New Year) is less than a day. Translated version will be up soon, or Google Translate is just a click away (don't trust it too much, that's all I could say). By the way, see how good the mai flowers above are? Update (Feb. 1 2022): Here it is !  Đôi lời dông dài:  Viết Tiếng Việt ? Tại sao lại không, khi khoảng cách đến cái Tết đầu tiên xa VN chỉ còn đếm bằng giờ và để thêm người xem cái blog phủ bụi này nữa chứ! Sáng thứ 7 tuần trước, định ngủ một giất thật đã để bù đắp những ngày chật vật dậy sớm đi học thì bị đánh thức bởi tiếng lộc cộc dưới bếp. Tuy là vậy, nhưng mình phải mất một lúc mới ra khỏi giường do không cưỡng lại nổi hơi ấm tỏa ra từ cái máy sưởi bên giường cộng thêm tấm mền dày cộm. Lom com đi xuống bếp thì thấy mẹ ngồi sát chiếc bàn gỗ, tay tỉ mẩn gọt từng củ kiệu. Bên cạnh mẹ là một tô đầy ắp tai heo đã được rửa sạch, từng thớ nổi lên những đường hoa văn hệt như vân gỗ của ch...

Originally published in  ink Magazine  of the Vancouver Public Library Around the streets at night on a Honda moped helmet strap tight on chin the river breezes blow the dusty leaves of the resin trees along District 1. Standing like solemn guards of the city, they watch over empty food stalls with their owners in a haze of slumber on the Formica table, beside the bubbling hủ tiếu broth. The leaves drop a pitying gaze to the night street sweeper sweeping trash from the narrowest alleys with cracked-painted houses no more than six feet wide to the main streets shimmering under the lights of caviar-scented, gold-latticed hotels with red carpet imprinted rose pumps. The branches don’t wince when they watch over a rat scurrying under a heap of boba tea leftovers and fried fish balls dripped in MSG-filled soy sauce left on the grass not far from the Gucci glass showcases of Diamond Plaza. The petals of resin flowers don’t wilt immediately upon landing on a sweaty uniform shirt belo...

First snow! The eventfulness of the past 11 months certainly doesn't spare the last month, when things can't get jumpier. Spinning back and forth and there you go, Santa is appearing right out of your porch. It wasn't until in a Physics class a mere two weeks that I realized the holidays were rolling in. My friends and I were discussing how slapping a chicken can technically cook it - and then someone asked about using that method for their Christmas turkey. Already?  Every holiday has its own little quirks - let alone the biggest celebration of the whole year. Especially if you're an introvert like me, once you get out of the snug comforts of your own home, the reality of Christmas starts hitting you real hard.  But hey, this season is supposed to be full of joy (at least that's what radio ads say), so I just take the holidays to the fullest. Although I have been here for nearly 3 years, this would be the first Christmas I'll spend in Canada (hooray!). Therefor...

And that's it for 5 weeks of backyard raking! Fall came and ended, with all its glory. Afternoons strolling around the park under honey-soaked streaks of sunlight shining through the russet leaves are now replaced by rainy, misty ones that mark the entry of the Vancouver winter - endless rain and mud. In nowhere but Vancouver did I see the seasons elapsing so remarkably, despite the city's reputation for a constantly temperate climate - at least in this country, where people use their backyards as fridges. As a native of the tropics (since when do I sound like a geography documentary?), where either the boiling sun or torrential rainfalls dominate the climate, I still can't figure out how to get used to season changes. The first half of the semester left me snowed under work for most of the week until one gray Saturday morning, when I woke up and saw the maple tree over the window was shedding its last leaves while the sound of rain tapping on the roof hadn't ever stopp...