diversity

I don't think I've ever lived in a place as diverse as Brooklyn. The specific neighborhood where I'm living is less diverse, and I was sad to find that there is no obvious place to buy Chinese vegetables. Out by campus, though, I spotted this store:

West Indian? Chinese? American, too? Fish AND pig tail? An appropriately nonsensical name? How could this shop go wrong??

It turned out to be a very interesting place. Bread fruit and strange squashes greeted me; organic agave and tortillas and oyster sauce jostled against each other on the shelves. But alas – I couldn't find any of the Chinese vegetables I sought (Chinese broccoli, baby bok choy, watercress, or pea shoots). But before I could begin to complain to myself about the lack of Chinese-aimed products, I saw these:

Bittermelon! My least favorite Chinese vegetable! I was in no way tempted to buy it, but there's something comforting in knowing it's there. When I get tired of crying out my stress, at least I know I can always turn to eating my bitterness. Thanks for being there for me, Brooklyn.

rest

I've been avoiding going to my parents' house during this period in New York. Somehow, it felt like an admission of weakness. Shouldn't I be investing in getting to know Brooklyn better, having fun with friends, settling into the new place? Shouldn't I be doing something cool, something that would make being in New York worth it? Foolish me.

I had a calm and restful weekend in PA. I'm developing a cold, so I slept a lot, strolled through Costco, watched a silly movie, and enjoyed my mom's cooking. She proudly showed off her newest high-end kitchen gadget, the Vitamix:

And on Saturday morning, I joined my dad for a run/walk that benefited the patient services for his medical practice. It began and ended at my high school. Fortunately, I didn't have to endure flashbacks of that traumatic time, since the building I knew has been razed and replaced with a much nicer structure. It was a beautiful day for a walk and a long talk about my work challenges.

After another minor bus snafu, I'm back in New York, gearing up for one last week before Dave arrives in his blue Mazda to whisk me away – to Michigan, married life, and my research. Counting down the days!

moon

This past year has been a period of instability in my identity; some changes have been pleasant, others less so, and much confusion remains. But one thing, I suppose, is unchanged: I'm Asian! And this year, something unusual occurred: I observed the Moon Festival.

Typically, I forget about the holiday until it has passed, or I make an attempt to watch the moon, but it's cloudy and/or raining. This year, I had some help. My mother provided me with a moon cake when I saw her last week, and when I spoke to her on the phone last night, she reminded me about the Moon Festival. So I opened up my moon cake package, climbed to the roof, and in the perfect September air, watched the moon.

Lotus paste, no yolk: just the way I like it.

Moon over Brooklyn, 2013

The paradoxically smooth yet grainy lotus paste, the oily pastry that leaves my fingertips greasy, the scent of jasmine tea – all familiar things that remind me of home. I would have liked to have shared these moments with a certain special someone, but maybe it's enough to have experienced them at all.

a metaphor?

My lovely friend B. gave me a plant to put in my office window. She has been through some tough periods in her own work experience, and she thought it would cheer me up. Here's what it looked like last Wednesday, when I put it on the sill:

And here is how it looked today:

Ack! Those of you who know me won't be surprised: I've never had a way with plants. "Black Thumb," I believe it's called. This poor flower became the victim of my unpredictable schedule these days – I'm somehow supposed to be two places at once, all the time, and therefore cannot water it on a regular schedule.

I can't help but wonder if there's a metaphor in this for me. Could the plant be the program I've just begun directing? Flowering and thriving for 41 years, it now wilts under the pressure of budget cuts and the advent of the corporate university. Or is the plant actually me? A modest bloom that quickly dessicates and crumples beneath the weight of administrative responsibilities and separation from my spouse.

I doused the plant with water shortly before I took the latter picture. At least a few of the leaves began to perk up slightly. Let's hope this is a positive sign for both my psyche and career!

d.c. time

It's been a tough week. I've been meaning to post pictures from my lovely weekend in the D.C. area last weekend! So here we go. I needed to get out of New York and take advantage of the convenience of the East Coast. So I hopped on a bus, and spent Friday with my relatives in MD/VA:

In a time of such great change and uncertainty, there's nothing better than spending time with the people who have loved you, love you now, and will always have to love you! Especially if you're doing the Seven Minute Workout together!

On Saturday, Julie and S. and I visited the Alexandria Art Festival, walked around the Eastern Market area, talked and talked, and ate mussels, fries, beer! Let's not forget a memorable round of miniature golf.

I finally got to see Julie's apartment (I'd never visited her at her previous two places), and we enjoyed a relaxing Sunday morning. Alas, my calm and relaxed mood was disrupted during my return journey via Megabus. The bus broke down on the highway, and then limped into a nearby rest stop. This was an unwelcome sight:

After an hour and a half wait, a working bus showed up, and we eventually made it to New York. At least I didn't have a connection to make or plans waiting me at my destination! A word to the wise: Megabus, NEVER AGAIN. However: another visit to D.C., YES PLEASE.

on the verge

Since mid-August, I've cried every day. It's usually not a torrent of heaving sobs; it's just a few tears here and there. That is, I'm constantly on the verge of tears, and some small thing will push me over, however briefly. All this to say, I'm having some adjustment issues.

Obviously, a lot of this has to do with being apart from Dave. But we've been long-distance before: I've spent at least a good chunk of the past three summers in New York, and we were apart for a full year when I lived in Europe during graduate school. Somehow, this feels different. Even though I know we have a decent situation and that it could be much, much worse, I still find the separation overwhelming. And I can't figure out why!

When I'm being gentle with myself, I remember that I've been through a lot of changes in the past year. Even though most of them have been really positive, it can still be tiring to have to adapt to new identities and new places repeatedly. Also, Dave and I didn't live together before the wedding, so we've only enjoyed the pleasure of building a home together for a few months. Now that we're living separately, it feels as though we've moved backwards, rather than forwards. I keep asking him, "We're really married, right?" For someone who's newly and happily married, I feel oddly heartbroken.

And maybe my inability to cope is related to some unrealistic expectations: marriage would fix everything. So I'm shocked and depressed that I'm still asking myself many of the same questions I asked when single: What should I do this weekend to keep from feeling so lonely? What new hobbies could I explore to pass the time? Should I think about freezing my eggs?

I need to adjust so that I can function better. I'm trying to exercise more, so that I'll sleep better, and I'm making the effort to seek out time with friends and family nearby. And maybe I need to accept the idea that I won't feel whole or happy and just live with it. I consulted a wise friend who's had too much experience with being apart from her significant other, and she wrote, "In many ways it just feels like I shut the door on part of my emotional life for a while, and try to remain as upbeat as possible about other things." It doesn't sound easy, but perhaps that's the most pragmatic way to go. Coping mechanisms, anyone?

Michigan's Adventure

I am happily in Ann Arbor for Labor Day weekend – the perfect opportunity for a final summer adventure with Dave! We decided to drive to Muskegon on the west coast of Michigan, where Michigan's Adventure, a low-key water park and amusement park, is located.

There is something so democratizing about the water park. We all stand in long lines together, taking in the acres of human flesh, the ill-advised tattoos, the open wounds. As much as I feared the bacteria lurking in the water, it was nevertheless refreshing to enjoy the rides and pools.

Water slides offer just the right amount of excitement for me: there's a limit to how fast you can go, you're generally well-enclosed, the ride is smooth and downhill. Although Dave loves roller coasters, I hadn't ridden one in about 15 years. I find submitting my body to the twists and turns and varying G-forces terrifying rather than exhilarating. I also hate how my head gets banged around on the restraints, which always gives me a headache by the end of the day!

But I want to be a "cool wife," so I finally agreed to try some roller coasters with Dave. We started off easy, ramping up to the most intense coaster in the park, the Thunderhawk! It has all these stats, blah blah blah, but here's one I should have noted before I got on: "Riders are sent upside down five times at speeds up to 50 mph!" While Dave was thrilled, I just tried to grit my teeth and make it through to the end of the ride. The picture taken during the ride gave me away:

Amused I am not! Note how desperately I am clinging to Dave's hand. This pictures totally cracks me up!

After enduring such a trial, I insisted on a romantic ride on the Ferris wheel, with lots of pictures to balance out the one above.

All in all, a pretty good adventure! Summer 2013 has been a season of intense change and looming uncertainty about the future. But at least we end it on a good note: even in the far reaches of the midwest, we still know how to have fun together!