chocolate tartlets

Last week I celebrated Father's Day with B's family (it was a first time feat, meeting the entire family and all).  With a chocolate craving and sense of adventure to try something new, I opened Alice Waters' "Art of Simple Food" cookbook and out popped these little guys.

I forget how simple it is to make your own pastry dough, and oh so satisfying and impressive..not to mention, the divine goodness homemade chocolate ganache does to your heart and soul. :)

so ecstatic!

i have a new baby cousin! his name is keon.
so adorable!

and in celebration--food and wine and my best friends!

creole stuffed peppers (black eyed peas, kale, carrots, onions and tomatoes) and spicy glazed tofu..oh, with vagmons over, it's so nice to cook and relax.
check out these exotic carrots i got from the farmer's market..purple! they looked really cool when i chopped them up.
'tis all for now. enjoy!

mourning death and celebrating life

my great-grandmother passed away friday at the age of 95. a strong, wise and kind woman she was. my last memory of her is at the gym where she exercised on a daily basis. although she spoke no english, she befriended the women who worked there, and as she grew older and weaker, they helped escort her in and out of the gym. she bought them christmas presents every year as a little thank you. i remember this as i'd go to same gym whenever home from break. i also remember that she wore the cutest knitted hat my big sister got her. on appearance you'd think she was old and fragile, but really she was one tough woman. she emigrated as a refugee from vietnam long ago, and has since lived many american generations. i know very little about her personal life. her husband, my great-grandfather passed away almost ten years ago. i know that she was deeply loved and will be remembered. she is in a good place. to my great-grandmother.

A Mother's Day Tribute

A big reason why I enjoy holidays is because it gives my family a reason to get together. Otherwise, we're all too busy living our separate lives. These special occasions almost force us to put our bickering and private lives aside and act like a somewhat functional family, if those exist these days.

This Mother's Day was no exception. The big eight got together for lunch and surprisingly, didn't argue (unless you count Jesse's showdown with the hostess who seated us forty minutes after our reserved time). Then again, we were late like usual, but that's no excuse for poor service. I used to be a host so I take these things personal.

Anyhow, it's a gloomy May morning and I digress. What I wanted to articulate was the fact that this past Mother's Day was especially important for me.

These past couple weeks have been, to say the least, frustrating. And what's almost confusing and irritating is that with all these college acceptances, I would have expected it to be joyful. This is the time where I'm supposed to breathe a sigh of relief and jump for joy. I just thought all of this hard work would have surrmounted to a big horrah especially from the woman I love the most in this world. I suppose I also wanted her to read my mind. The point is I wasn't getting it. And yet I should know this, coming from a family that doesn't express itself in either healthy or effective manners. (We're a very demanding and impatient family for the most part.)

So instead I took to pen and paper and wrote my mother a five-page letter, expressing to her all the emotions I've withheld in the past couple years. Everything I've wanted to say but was too afraid to came out. There were parts were I was so angry and bitter that my words came out so hurtful, I then rewrote them and resolved some issues on my own. I certainly would not have been able to find such clarity without the lunch talks and support of professors and friends.

When I struggled to understand why my parents didn't seem happy for me. My history professor, Susie Ling put it to perspective, "Don't you see. They're afraid of losing you." I immediately thought of my mom who left her family and college to marry my father and mother six kids.

In reference, the LA Times published a poignant op-piece this Sunday titled "Moms are People Too." Deborah Tannen, a Georgetown professor writes, We want our mothers to see us and love us for who we are, but we are often disappointed in them for falling short of who we think they should be. Mother's Day is a good time to try to see our mothers and love them for who they are: creations of their lives and their worlds, which doubtless are different from our own.

To my mom and mothers around the world, we can never say it enough, thank you. Love you, Mommy.

six rascals

as much as we get on each other's last nerves we make great family photos and love each other, of course.

tea, boys and blogger on this friday night

it's a friday night and instead of frolicking at a party i organized two weeks ago, i'm at home struggling over an analysis on chomsky and the following random and time-consuming tidbits.

good deed: i created a blog for my youngest sis, britt (who of my five siblins i would say i identify most with). it was my attempt to divert her wasteful time spent on mysapace and hopefully will inspire her to write often. she's a seventh grader going through that rollercoaster ride of emotions as a pre-teen. it's a bit scary but i'm also hoping that reading her blog will help me understand what she's going through and possibly be a better sister at the same time. well, i read her first three posts and couldn't stop laughing. she's very honest, and i'm glad. she dedicated a whole post to describing each sibling and i have to say i'm sort of shocked to read what she thinks of us, big sibs. she's the youngest and i forget how much we boss and bully her so after this post i'm going to give her a big hug.

the debate: is it possible to change the world and date at the same time? as was the discussion i just had with my friend rei.

big events: revlon run for women and asian pacific american book fest tomorrow.

summer travel: i've decided on south america!

big days coming. splendid night, friends.

when we didn't have computers or PSPs

"yes means no and no means yes. want me to hit you?"
"no." SLAP

"yes means no and no means yes. want me to hit you?"
"yes." SLAP

"MOM!!!"

i heard a similar rendition this afternoon which made me remember the times my sisters and brother and i would slap each other back and forth laughing, fustrated and angry and oh, good memories. how easily we were amsued as children.

stork's delivery

welcoming the newest addition to the family: Arya Luu Namazie
just as cute as cousin connie.

sunday. family day.

I solicited my fourteen year-old sister, Ashley, to wash my car this afternoon. What a great sister she is.

Then again, she demanded that I take her out to lunch and pay her ten bucks for the job. As a result, I can see water spots on my windows and am now in debt for it. Thanks for nothing, Ash!

*in celebration of my quirky family I posted some pics of them on flickr.
I hope they don't hate me. After all, I've withheld a lot of embarassing stories about them. For that, they should be grateful. :)

demanding some dna tests!

Sometimes I wonder how Jesse and I are related. How is it that she's out shopping for diamonds while I'm at her work running her business for the day?

typical american

Yesterday I finished reading Gish Jen's Typical American, a witty and poignant tale of Yifeng "Ralph" Chang, a Chinese man with an unrelenting desire to succeed and conquer the "American Dream." And who, comes to a point of being so hell bent about expanding his business and maximizing his profits with meaningless self-help books and modified income receipts that he is isolated and oblivious to the falling-out of his family while being the major cause of it. What engrossed me was how much Ralph Chang resemebled my own father.

I, too identified a lot with the novel, and perhaps too much with this line...
"And to be nonwhite in this society was indeed to need education, accomplishment--some source of dignity" (200).

In my opinion, it's the most telling and powerful line that expresses the struggle of Asian Americans trying to succeed, trying to fit in, and more so, (while trying not to be), eventually being typical American.

Jen is brilliant as her read contains a mixture of irony, complexity and heartache that's so true it hurts.

to the greatest, most loving woman in the world..

momma, happy birthday!
i'm speechless whenever it comes to describing my mom. if i had to, i'd break down in tears because i don't think i would be able to find the words to fully express my love for such a beautiful, strong and caring woman.

last week i read mitch albom's latest novel, for one more day, which i highly reccommend. it's an easy and enjoyable read, and notably, one which illustrates the power and love of mothers. it makes you realize how easily we can take life and our mother for granted, and it's not until it's too late that we wish we could go back and grasp what we once had. instead, albom's message is to not wait but to capture every moment as it comes and let it spark. great, great book!

i love you, mommy! thank you, thank you.. for everything!

my love-hate relationship with debate

Most of this weekend was spent judging at the Cal State Fullerton High School Speech and Debate Tournament. In high school I competed in a number of events (mainly original advocacy, foreign extemp and policy) but my coaches and friends in forensics could easily tell that my passion lied in debate. Unless you're a cx debater, it's difficult to explain because debate in itself is its own world. The activity changed my life. It opened doors to countless perspectives of politics and academia, philosophers like Michel Foucalt and theorists like Cynthia Enloe, life--everything I learned blew my mind. I took so much from debate if only I could describe the feeling here.

It's difficult to talk about debate to non-debaters. People don't believe me when I tell them that there are debate camps. It's a scary thought, actually. High school students should be enjoying their summers in the woods, running around, hiking, swimming, doing frivilous nonsense, not stuck in a classroom researching, writing, and debating. But debate was in my blood and so I did. And I was hooked. The summer of my junior year was spent at three different camps in Austin, Flagstaff and San Marino. I remember after I came home from UTNIF my friends and family threw me a surprise party to celebrate my sweet 16, and that same day I had to leave to catch the train for CDE in Arizona. It was hectic and I was so consumed, and not even that good (I can't even begin to talk about my infatuation for such great debaters). The work was rigorous and sometimes I fell behind, but the intellectual stimulation that I got from debate was out of this world and that's what I loved.

At the same time I hate debate because of its elitism. Only those debaters with money can afford to attend camp (the really good ones, for that matter) and travel and attend tournaments because fees are ridiculously expensive and not always a short bus ride away. So much paper gets wasted for evidence that rarely even gets read, and it's tough to find a coach, most of whom are starving college students who hate to commute unless they're getting paid big bucks for their time. At tournaments you wake up early and stay up late, go to rounds, "spread" (debate jargon for reading aloud so fast it's uncomprehensible) and claim to solve for nuclear proliferation. It makes you feel good, like you're saving the world. Very realistic, not.

Having spent your entire summer at some elite college prepping for the coming year's resolution, you're overwhelmed with knowledge and unfortunately, conceit. There are those debaters --the ones with their tubs stacked high atop a skateboard, donned in birkenstocks and their hair, uncombed. You sense they know everything about the world and only they have the solution to solve it. They easily clear prelims with a 6-0 record and have their bids to the TOC. Yup, and you love and hate 'em, or at least I did.

One round that stands out in particualr from this tournament was between two teams who were more or less JV level. The aff plan advocated extending the number of coast guards in the US; the neg countered with a militarism kritik. The need to analyze the construction of the military, its heirarchy, creation of the "enemy," and system of perpetual violence. This made me think, why is it that names like "sissies" get thrown at male soldiers, so as to put their"manhood" on the line so that they can "toughen" up, and yet demean women at the same time. Why is it that we have a don't ask-don't tell policy of military personal's sexual orientation, or why women serving in the military are threatened to be reported of being lesbian and thrown out of service if they don't consent to sexual intercourse by a male counterpart. Gay/lesbian-baiting, it's called. This sort of violence and domination transcends the military to every day society. I was watching Wedding Crashers this morning and as much as I laughed, it bugged me that Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn were calling each other "pussies." I don't find that sort of stuff funny.

I don't agree with war or the use of violence. Some call that being a pacificist, but to me, appeasing isn't my ideal either. I want peace but I'm unsure of what that's supposed to be like, and I don't think it's the opposite of war. Inbetween needs to be some sort of communication, dialogue. Too easily we resort to violence or the thought of it. And I'm just as guilty as a bit earlier my little sister, Brittney, was rushing me to drive her to cheer practice. I was fustrated with it all and said under my breath in the midst of wanting to do three things at the same time that I was going to slap her in the face, even though I would never lay a hand on her. That fustrated me even more.

Reflecting on debate, what captivated me was not the point of arguing against your opponent, but rather it's being able to exchange varying viewpoints, conversing in the real world. Debate opens a space to talk about why things are the way they are, and come up with solutions. Oh, the power of discourse!

The car ride with Britt was a silent one for the most part. I wanted to apologize for my uncalled-for behavior, instead, I asked her if she was excited for school to start again. Poor sort of communication on my part.

Hmm, I think I know what to do when I pick her up. Maybe it'll be easier if I take her to get some frozen yogurt at 21 Choices.

And that sort of explains my love-hate relationship with debate. I never said it was easy.

just me and the boys

It's a Saturday night and I'm babysitting my hyperactive, trouble-making but wholeheartedly lovable cousins, Andrew and Warren. Their parents are out to a wedding and mine are in Las Vegas. Seems like everyone's partying except me. Ha, just wait 'til tomorrow night!

Update:
So the boys are here and they've helped me with some cleaning. Warren vaccumed the living room and Andrew assisted me in moving the stereo equipment back into the house, since Tiffany decided not to clean up after her party yesterday. I made the boys dinner and they helped out with the dishes afterward. Now we're about to enjoy some kettle corn, hot chocolate, and The Devil Wears Prada. How I have my ways..

coming to grips with being "crazy"

It bugs me when every time my mom introduces me to someone, be it a friend, distant relative or the cashier working the register at the market, I'm the "crazy one." It's not just my mom but entire family. And it bugs me.

I don't know..I love the ocean, forests, animals, nature, everything outdoors. Call me selfish but I want to ensure that we'll still have trees and clean water in a hundred or even fifty years from now. Ok, so I don't eat meat. I would never eat a dog. I can't imagine a chicken being any different. And because I believe if two people truly love each other, whatever sexual orientation they may be, they should be able to marry. And because I don't believe that violence is the answer to violence, I don't understand why 2,988 U.S. military troops have died in Iraq. I can't even begin to imagine the number of Iraqis who've died, and the amount of destruction that's been done because of war. I love my country and am proud to say that I'm an American. But that doesn't mean I'm going to settle for status quo when I know that something's wrong, and that I have the power to act. I'm sick of watching and reading about "terror and violence" and how it's "eating us up." Why sit and wait for something to happen, when I can make changes myself? And I don't expect huge changes all at once. Little seps, I remember.

My family thinks I'm crazy, and they're probably worried that I don't know what I'm going to do with my life. But there are a lot of things I want to accomplish--and I'm learning that throughout college. After my experience with GP and the GOT I am assured that I want to be part of our government's political process--at the forefront of writing and passing legislation, communicating and creating diplomacy (what a foreign term it's become). I want to travel the world and learn from different communities and cultures. I want to photograph and document as I go. I want to share my stories and perhaps I'll obtain my doctorate and teach, and hopefully inspire. I also want to open a bakery because I love sweets, and make everything free from animal suffering if possible. So I'm a dreamer and an optimist. But I'm also a doer. And if that makes me crazy, so what.

happy holiday cheer!

Christmas went well this year, not that it's ever gone bad (in my memory, at least). As the usual tradition goes, Christmas eve is spent with my dad's family and Christmas day with my mom's. Both families are loud and ginormous so it's a good thing we celebrate on two separate occasions. With my mom's side of the family we tried something new--a secret santa gift exchange. Instead of everyone getting gifts for each other, my mom, being the big sister amongst her siblings, thought it'd be a good idea if all the adults played secret santa and got something bigger and better for whomever they had chosen out of a hat. I broke the rule and got a little something from either DC or Amsterdam for everyone in the family (only because I can't come home empty-handed from far away places).

I find typical Christmas wrapping paper cheesy and boring. Thanks to my former employment at Paper Source I've grown taste and appreciation for fine paper and more importantly, creativity. I'm not one to put money into decorative paper that's harvested from old-growth forests all to have ripped up and thrown away in seconds. Instead I pulled pages from yesterday's Times and wrapped gifts to images I thougtht matched accordingly. The ribbon I've recycled over time added the perfect finishing touch. Who says you can't be nifty and thrifty at the same time? Highlighted Christmas presents of the year--a subscription to The Economist, a weekly political, business, science and arts-oriented newspaper of Great Britain, 1000 Peacewomen Across the Globe, an amazing book I fell in love with at Busboys and Poets in DC's U District, and a deck of trivia cards on houes, their impact on the environment, and green living.

Finally, here's a picture of the grandkids (Chungs and Roses, soon a Namazie!) from this evening.I love the holidays. As different as everyone in my family is from each other, there's a sense of comfort and joy that I get from just being around them. Holidays like Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years make the best excuses to get the whole family together for a celebration of good food and company. Happy holidays to all!

insight into my sister's visit to dc

Alas, the long anticipated arrival of my sister has come! Planning the weekend has been both exciting and stressful as our prior phone conversations have mostly consisted of me reveling nonstop about the wonders of this great city. So, inadvertently I have high expectations to fulfill. Plus, she's my older sister which adds that older-younger sibling tension to need to prove something. And on top of that, awkwardly enough, Jenny and I quite different. We didn't hang out much back at home nor did we share our social lives. But for these four days we'll be together, and she'll get to see not only where I live but certainly more important, how I live and act on my own. She'll observe how I interact with my friends as we'll all go out and enjoy ourselves. And as dramatic as this sounds, it's almost a feeling of vindication (if that's even the proper word to use). It's just that we don't have to keep our private lives to ourselves any more. I remember envying friends who have such close relationships with their older sisters and wishing that Jenny and I could also have that. Now, despite our differences, I think we're getting there. Moving out to DC has definitely brought us closer, and possibly ridded that need to always cover or justify our actions, and instead, has allowed us to be more like friends--sharing, respecting and appreciating each other's decisions and lives.

To sum it up, Jenny's here and I couldn't be happier.

a sweet surprise

This morning I got the most amazing and thoughtful care package from my Aunt Terry and Uncle Hamid. It totally made the start of my day! Funny is how the goods are fitting--organic granola, hazlenut coffee, dark chocolate, coconut cookies, raisinets, preserved plums and orange peels, all of my favorite snacks in a big box decorated with the coolest stickers that read, "You go Girl!" and "You Got that Right!" Too funny and cute. I can't help but step lighter and wear a smile all day because of it.

a constant struggle

i hate the fact that i feel powerless when it comes to my relationship with my dad. of course, he's always going to be right because he doesn't give me the chance to speak. if i bother, he just yells and makes me feel stupid. worse, he goes psycho and brings down the entire family. i can't risk that. and so i stay quiet. the entire time. he lectures with his harsh pounding voice that drags on and on. i can barely take it but i love and respect him so i do because i've been taught to be the obedient daughter who goes to school, completes her homework, and studies for tests. i get good grades they don't complain about that because of course, it's expected, not praised. i'm happy that they have high expectations but that doesn't allow me to do what i want to do. it makes me feel selfish so i keep my passions to myself. they don't understand life in terms of happiness and doing what you love. life, to my dad, is what benefits you, what pays your rent. i can't blame him because he learned the hard way. after emigrating from vietnam as a teenage war refugee, he dropped out of high school in the states to build a business with his brother. he met my mom, began a family and flourished from the success of his company. throughout the nineteen years of my life my parents have given me everything i could ever ask for--and i am so very thankful beyond words. and that's why i want to do as they say to make them happy, to give them the bragging rights i know they so crave and deserve. to prove to the world that i have terrific parents. in doing so i would fall into the path of my dad's ambitions--graduate from med school, make big bucks, buy a house so he can retire. i want to give my dad what he wants because it kills me to know the stress he endures working fourteen-hour days. i see it in the the coarseness of his hard-labored hands, the grays of his withering hairs, and the wrinkles in his sullen face; it speaks--this is all for my family. and here i am crying, tired and tied between being loved by my father and loving myself for taking the risk to do what i love.