Category Archives: Love

Photo shooting

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Chris and I never wanted to do an engagement shoot. Well, let’s put it another way: we never wanted to pay for an engagement shoot. The wedding photographer we chose completely got that, so to “manipulate” us into having one, he threw it into our package and said the cost would be the same with or without the engagement shoot. So what do you think we chose to do?

I loved the session on Friday. I loved our photographer and his personality and the way he gave direction. He was just as personable as I remembered him during our Skype interview, and just as much fun as his e-mail correspondence throughout the last year (we exchanged a LOT of e-mails leading up to this meeting and photo shoot). I enjoyed the assistant he brought with us, who made it even more full of laughs and lightness. He even provided background music when Chris joked about it. I like that he calls his flash filter a “boob,” even if that’s not its technical name. I also realized how weird it is to have a camera constantly following me around and taking photos of me when I least expect it, and how weird it is when that creepy camera is not Chris’s. I think anyone who is not used to being in front of the camera all the time should consider an engagement shoot to get ready for a wedding, not just to get comfortable with the camera, but also with your photographer. As corny as it sounded, we felt like friends at the end and ended the early evening session with drinks and dinner. It was a great ending to an appointment-packed day.

We already saw a sneak peek, too, and this is exactly what we wanted: a lot of art, creativity, and intense colors.

 

“Special”

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In the last 24 hours, Chris and I have been inundated with food. When our catering manager told me months before to come hungry, she really meant it. We had so much food that it really would have been fitting to have added two or three more people to our tasting session (but we weren’t… Since it would have cost $50 extra per person, so… Pass). We had samplings of all our canapes we selected and asked for customizations on, as well as our food stations and potential desserts. And since we barely scraped the surface of our food, we ended up getting two massive bags of food plus branded water to take back to our hotel with us. And then to add to this, we had our rehearsal dinner tasting for lunch, as well as two cake and dessert tastings. It was like a non-stop eating fest. It was also a non-stop “what do you think?” and “what would you like changed or modified?” session.

I can see how planning a wedding can brainwash you into thinking that you are so special, that you can have anything and everything you want at your beck and call… Well, if you are willing to pay for it. It can really go to your head, all those little tiny accommodations that people in this industry are willing to make for you two, the bride and groom, just because you are getting married, and your wedding day should be the happiest, most perfect day of your life.

So this is what wedding planning really is — self indulgence, and a lot of money going outbound everywhere.

 

Annual handmade Christmas cards

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This year, I’ve recommenced my annual Christmas card making, and I’ve made 12 cards for my family and friends. The last two years, I gave it up due to lack of time (last year with my dad’s heart surgery) and bereavement (losing Ed in 2013), but this year, I know it’s time to start again. Making greeting cards makes me happy and gets me feeling more creative and crafty.

When I was making a list of who to make cards for and send to, I realized I don’t really want to make cards for people I don’t have much to say to even if they are my friends and family. It seems kind of empty. I don’t just want to write a card that says “Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!” That seems so trite and unoriginal. I want to make cards for people who I know a) will appreciate not just getting a card, but the fact that it’s handmade and took a lot of time/effort to create, and b) I have meaningful words I actually want to express in writing.

Macy’s Snoopy Christmas theme 2015

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Tonight before our company holiday party, a colleague and I went to see the Macy’s Christmas window displays. This year’s theme is Peanuts, so each window walked through moments from A Charlie Brown Christmas to acknowledge the fiftieth anniversary of this beloved movie.

When Macy’s has their theme each year, they also have a stuffed animal of said theme that you can buy in store. This year, you can buy a medium sized Snoopy wearing a down zip up vest with a Belle (Snoopy’s sister) backpack attachment. We went inside to hold the Snoopys, and they are noticeably lighter and less sturdy than the Snoopy that Ed got me when Snoopy was the Macy’s theme one year when I was in college and Ed still worked there. I remember when Snoopy was the theme in 2006, I asked Ed to get my friend Rebecca a Snoopy because she told me she tried to buy one but they sold out at her nearest Macy’s, and I knew he’d get better access to them as an employee. Well, Ed did this and also secretly got me one, too, for Christmas that year. “I thought you’d want one, too,” he said when he presented it to me and pulled it out of a big bag. “You never say you want anything. Stop being like that. You know you wanted one, too.” I loved it immediately and brought it back to college with me. Now, he sits on the bean bag in our living room.

Ed got me a lot of Snoopy related things, including that Macy’s Snoopy with an attached Woodstock, a little Snoopy with a graduation cap when I graduated from high school, and Snoopy themed cards. I guess one reason I love Snoopy so much is because he’s a part of my childhood, and he reminds me of Ed. The whole Peanuts series reminds me of my brother because it’s so innocent and distills complex ideas and feelings into very simple, concise thoughts. Isn’t that why Charles Schulz and Peanuts in general became so widely loved and cherished? We all just want to be loved and understood and have that demonstrated to us in simple ways. Sometimes, that’s all we need to be happy — a little humanity.

“Why do you love Snoopy so much?” my colleague asked me as I stared in wonderment at Snoopy ice skating in one of the windows.

I didn’t want to bring up Ed because I could feel myself getting choked up thinking about him, so I responded, “He just makes me really, really happy.”

 

Bastille Market’s poulet roti

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I’ve been hyped up to go to Marche Bastille on our last Sunday for the last several weeks in great anticipation of our French version of the Last Supper in Paris: poulet roti from the famous poulet roti woman at the market, along with chicken-fat-drenched tiny yellow potatoes. Poulet roti is just French for roast chicken, but this roast chicken is marinated for two days in sesame, soy, and a large variety of herbs, then roasted on a rotating spit over tiny little yellow potatoes. I’d read about it on multiple food blogs as the thing to eat when visiting Marche Bastille, so I knew we had to have it.

When we picked the chicken up and I ripped into it with a sad random spoon we had in our bag and my fingers, I knew we had made the right decision. The skin was crackling, crunchy and very complex tasting and flavorful. It was sweet and slightly salty and herby all at once. The flesh of the chicken came apart quite easily, and the dark meat was perfect. The breast meat was tasty, but the star of this chicken was clearly the skin and the dark meat. It even came with its little giblets on the inside cavity; that’s something you don’t normally get when you buy roasted chicken in an American supermarket. Americans can’t really handle their giblets. I wanted to inhale the entire chicken, and I almost did since Chris’s dad doesn’t like to eat with his hands, and Chris’s cousins shied away from eating that much.

It was a sweet finale to an end in France. I practiced a lot of French here, was received more happily than I was last time, and bought enough chocolate, butter, caramels, and pharmacy products to last me the next year. I can’t wait to come back and eat the rest of France.

Hey! Remember me?

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And then, when you least expect it, you get reminded of what you lost.

I went to sleep this morning at around 4am after leaving the dance floor at 3:30am. I’m proud to say I was one of the last ten people in the room for the DJ that would have gone on until 7am as per French wedding protocol. Then I woke up at around 8:30 having dreamt about going through my brother’s things after his passing. I’m sitting on the floor next to his desk in the dining room, rummaging through notes, books, and boxes. I come across a bag that has familiar writing on it; it’s my friend Natasha’s handwriting. I could identify that handwriting from miles away. It’s a note she wrote to my brother describing that she put together a care package for him of things to encourage him and make him smile. She included an inspirational book, some of his favorite snacks, among other things. Neither Natasha nor my brother told me that she did this for him. Finding it was bittersweet for me. I was touched that she did this for him, but felt awful that he’s now gone. In my dream, I sit there and stare at her handwriting, wondering what Ed thought when he was given the gift.

In the happiest and saddest times, he’s still there hanging out, saying, “Hey, remember me? I’m still here even though I’m not. I’ll watch over when you’re feeling good and terrible, and I’ll try to continue being happy for you.” I’d like to say this dream was more hopeful and positive, but in the back of my mind, these dreams just make me sad because it’s a reminder that he isn’t here, even if his presence is still felt halfway across the world. It’s the never ending thought, the sad and final truth.

I don’t think I’ll ever get over losing him, and I know when my wedding day comes, it will be hard because I’ll know he should have been there. I’ll try my best to be strong for him… as much as I can. I have to be strong for both of us, even more so than when he was alive.

 

Fairy tale wedding

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Today was one of those one-day-in-a-lifetime days when I got to experience a fairy tale in real life — a wedding at a chateau in the French countryside complete with endless white and pink roses, ending with torches shooting their flames up high toward a sky of fireworks. It’s one of those things that American girls dream about growing up, but they never really get that type of wedding in the end because how many American girls will have a destination wedding at a chateau in France?

Since I left home in 2004 for college, I’ve realized exactly how sheltered I’d been about the world, and every day I’m learning exactly how little I didn’t know the day before. When Navine and Andy began planning their wedding, Navine said to me that she originally didn’t want to have a chateau wedding, that she wanted to do something “different” and get married along the French Riviera where there was warm weather, sunny skies, and the beach. She grew up in Paris attending weddings at chateaux because that’s what the French do when they get married — have a multiple-day-long celebration at a chateau. I laughed out loud when she said this because I thought, yeah, that’s not what my version of “normal” and “what everyone does” was when I was growing up. I grew up thinking the normal, everyday thing to do when getting married was having a church wedding and having a Chinese banquet at a Chinese restaurant, or having a wedding and reception at a hotel or country club. Our versions of “normal” or “cliche” are so different depending on where we grew up and how we were raised. It still makes me laugh to think of Navine rolling her eyes at a chateau wedding and thinking it’s a cliche.

At the end of the night, she and I chatted, and I told her how beautiful it all was today and how it really was very much like a fairy tale. She was glowing and saying, “Screw the French Riviera and the beaches and the sun; this is perfect!”

That’s how I felt. But I guess she’ll get to see our wedding overlooking a beach in just a few months, and that will be incredible in its own way. I’ll be honest and say that after being a part of this wedding, I felt slightly insecure and thought our wedding may be nothing compared to the extravagance of today. But as corny as it sounds, as long as the people we care about are there and I don’t screw up my vows, I think our wedding day will be another version of “epic,” and that’s coming from someone who never uses that word.

Tea ceremony

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Today, the wedding events began with a tea ceremony at Navine’s parents’ home in Paris, and ended with the largest bonfire I’ve ever seen at the chateau about an hour away in the French countryside. As with most Chinese events, the food was endless, and the food offered to the ancestors to bless the marriage was even more endless. We left the bride’s family’s home wondering what would happen with that huge roasted suckling pig, the duck, and all the fruit and sticky rice cake offerings. My family has never hosted a tea ceremony, so I have no idea if all that food really gets eaten or not.

Chris’s cousins’ parents and family were asking me if we would also have a Chinese tea ceremony when we got married. My first response is laughter, not because I think it’s dumb or ludicrous, but more because my parents would barely understand what a tea ceremony is for or what they would do during it. My dad is less Chinese than I am, and my mom doesn’t know anything about tea ceremonies and is Vietnamese. I summed it up nicely by saying, “No, my family isn’t that Chinese.”

I think these traditions are a great thing to have and to continue, and I was happy to be able to be a part of this one. I’m honestly a little sad that my family isn’t that Chinese and won’t be doing it because it ultimately means that any potential future generation of our family will not do it. If I didn’t have a tea ceremony, it’d be like a farce if I ever wanted my future children to have one. None of my cousins had a tea ceremony when they got married, either. It’s like the degradation of cultural identity as the generations continue and the lack of understanding of what the value is to keep these traditions going.

Bridal and bachelorette scrapbook

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I spent almost all of today working on my bridal shower and bachelorette scrapbook. I saved all the cards, written memories shared during the shower, and even some of the wrapping paper and ribbon used to wrap my bridal shower gifts to compile this scrapbook using the memory book my friends got me. I’ve realized a big reason that scrapbooking can be so stressful; it forces me to hoard and save what most people generally will just throw away. So not only do I have to save a lot of “junk” and discardable material, but I have to organize it in such a way that it’s kept neat and in a certain order so I remember the timeline for the events in the order that they happened.

I finished it, though – 22 pages of documented events over the course of three days. I put a lot of work and thought into it, and I’m keeping it for myself as a treasure book of what my loved ones did for me.

The photo frame with a hidden message

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Today, I met briefly with a friend and her daughter at Spreckles Lake at Golden Gate Park. I cannot remember the last time I walked through that area, but Ed and I used to go all the time on the weekends as kids and feed the ducks by the water there. It made me feel nostalgic to walk along the lake today with them and see the ducks and the remote-controlled boats gliding across the water at rapid pace.

My friend and her daughter came to my bridal shower and gave me a silver photo frame from Gump’s. At the shower when I was opening gifts, she told me that there was a story behind the frame, and today, she shared it with me.

She told me that her husband was at work the week before the shower, and somehow dozed off, and when he did, he dreamt that he saw Ed. Yes, that’s Ed as in my Ed, my brother. He couldn’t quite make out his face clearly and could only see black, but he knew it was him. “Isn’t your wife attending a bridal shower this weekend?” Ed asked her husband.

“Yes, she’s attending a bridal shower,” the husband responds.

Ed reveals that it’s his sister’s bridal shower. “What is your wife getting as a gift for the shower?”

Her husband finds this amusing and said he actually had no idea, as they hadn’t discussed it.

“I think you should get her a photo frame from Gump’s,” Ed suggested. “I think she’d like it.”

The dream ended. Her husband woke up from his nap and asked his assistant to go to Gump’s and pick out a photo frame. He then took the photo frame back home to my friend, and said that she had to give this gift to me. “You can’t ignore a message like this,” her husband told her.

Ed’s still out there watching over me. My friend says this was his way of being part of the shower, of speaking to her husband and knowing that the message would get back to me. I’m not sure what I felt more when I heard this — happiness that his presence is still here, or sadness that he physically is no longer here.

I miss my Ed. I love you wherever you are.