Running long enough

Last Sunday I pushed myself to get up early at 6:30am to go running and do my laundry. I needed to get some exercise, especially cardio. Things had been moving so fast, I hadn’t had the chance to stop and reflect yet. I planned to run for an hour, but cleaning up and getting there took a bit longer than I had planned so I only ran for 45 minutes.

Hart House was basically empty other than a few people on treadmills. As my feet hit the track and my music started playing, I felt my thoughts begin to pour out. It seemed like despite how fast I was moving physically, my mind slowed down; the kind of feeling you get when you’re lying in bed thinking those thoughts you do right before you fall asleep.

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Trains and summer runs

I'm not sure why, but I can never do homework on the train. Not a lot anyways. I don't get severely carsick or anything; only a slight queasy feeling if I stare at a screen too long or try to read. Perhaps it's only an excuse because I really want to sleep and not think about things that are to come or things that have passed.

Every train ride feels different. Or maybe my memory only allows for so much. This time, I don't think I'm as sad as I am stressed. I only wish I was able to spend more time at home creating moments that I would remember with family I hardly see.

Another note is that this is the first time didn't print out my train ticket. The printer at home wasn't working and my brother was on the computer connected to the printer all the time anyways. So, I took the risk and found the ticket on my phone, hoping that it will work.

And it didn't. Shoot. This would happen to me.

The ViaRail employee asks me to make the screen brighter.

He turns back around and it works. I'm extremely relieved.

And with terrible transitioning, here is another piece of writing. I assure you, everything I right is only half true, because the best stories are 50% real, 50% dramaticized.

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Overwhelming love

Do you ever have times in your life when you realize, when it hits you hard in the face and knocks you out, that you are so unbelievably loved?

I don't mean romantically or friendships.

The kind of love where you feel as if you're drowning. But in the best way possible.

I'm talking about family.

It's funny how family makes one feel.

Sometimes, I want to yell and scream Why doesn't it get through your head?! or Stop telling me what to do! or Why do you not try?


Mom, why do you keep acting like we're so close, when we hardly speak the same language?
Mom, stop telling me that we used to play together when we were four. I'm not four anymore. And we never got along anyways; not one time, except last summer, did we manage to stay out of a fight.


Sometimes, I want to cry. Why are things the way they are? Why did you have to tear things apart? Why can't you be here when everyone else is celebrating with their families?


What will happen to us when we're grown?
Will we stay in touch when it's not up to our parents to bring us to visit?


Seldom do I feel in touch.

But through the joyous screams of "It's Jia Jia!," my grandma's content chuckle and chattery background; I felt in touch.

In between my uncles' jokes and my aunts' worrying, I heard my cousins screaming in the background, asking me about school. And I screamed back, asking about those roses she received for her birthday and how his high school exam preparation is going and how her studies are.

Xin nian hao Jia Jia jie jie! I hope you have a blessed year and grow more beautiful!

You too, dear. Please don't grow up too fast.

As I stood in the stairwell, the phone at the other end of the line was passed from Shu Shu to Da Ye, from Nai Nai to Ting Ting jie jie, from Rui Qi to Hao Yi, from little Xing Xing to Ting Ting Jie Jie and back to Shu Shu and then to Xiao Shen and Da Niang, from Gu Gu to Xiao Gu Ye and, I think, to Da Gu as well.

It struck me suddenly that I wanted to be there too.

As people walked through the doors to go up or downstairs, I wanted to scream.

Look at me. I am so blessed.

Fix me

*Note: I wrote this one on January 26, but I was too scared to post, but now that it's been some time, it's not as hard to post it nor as meaningful  In another sense, it's not as fresh as it was the day I wrote it, so I feel less vulnerable. Please forgive the lateness and the cheesiness, I was never quite finished with this one.


Goodbye.

I feel like all I've been saying lately are goodbyes.

Today it was "Goodbye J."

Goodbye J. When will we be in the same country again? I miss being in kindergarten.

Bye. Don't cry, I'll be home in a month. I miss your cooking.

Bye. I hope you have a great birthday. I miss our two hour car rides every day.

Bye. Don't grow up too fast. I miss you telling me how I suck at using technology.

Bye. Sometimes, I wish I didn't leave. I miss being close.

Bye. You amaze me. I miss seeing your stylishness each Sunday morning and your cakes.

Bye. I do wonder what it would be like to go to school with you. I miss teaching with you.

Bye. You are blessed with so much potential that you have yet to realize. I miss you driving me crazy.

Bye. You have blossomed into a beautiful dancer and young lady. I miss our early morning talks.

Bye. I am still astounded when I think back to that insane month of February. I miss rehearsals with you.


Most of my goodbyes are for a distance of 452 kilometres.
Compared to some people, that's nothing.

But, sometimes, it doesn't matter how far. Being separated at all is hard enough.

This time was different.

I didn't want to come back here. I didn't want to say goodbye.

And as I sit here with your suitcase, I wish you had come along to  deliver it.

So I could say-

Goodbye.
Don't leave.
Come back.

I miss you.


Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you

Someone, fix me.

Jasmine tea

*Just a note: I wrote this post a few weeks back, but I was hesitating on whether to post it or not, but it's been a while and I haven't read it over again, but I'm thinking "Whatever, why not?"


There are moments when I feel like everything will be alright.

I can't decide if I like warmer weather and less snow--if I miss the cold and the snowstorms.

When I was younger, I used to love thunderstorms.

I loved watching from the window as the water pounded the ground and listened as the sounds thundered throughout the house. I would look out in the distance for lightning and count the "one-thousands" before the thunder hit. I marveled at the astounding power.

But, my favourite kind of weather is the kind of day when the snow floats down lightly in generous, fat flakes. I used to not put my hood up on purpose, leaving my hair uncovered, just so I could imagine that it looked magical, and I still don't--for the same reason. When it snows like that, everyone comments about how it looks like Christmas. It does.

I like tea. Tea is calming, mild and has just the right amount of taste. Coffee, on the other hand, I find too bitter. But sometimes, I drink it anyways, just to feel like something can be normal.

Yesterday afternoon, I walked to Robarts while the snow was falling and both my hands holding a cup of jasmine tea. And I knew that everything would be alright.

Happy New Year!

Wishing all of you a very happy Chinese New Year!

I hope you have many blessings in the year of the snake :)

Spend time with your family, call your parents, grandparents and relatives. They really do appreciate it.

Have you ever thrown a fistful of glitter in air?

I have.

This is a song I've been listening to a lot recently and I thought I would share:

P!nk is truly amazing.
Singing upside down, wearing heels and doing acrobatics. It's crazy.

Enjoy :)