I know, I know. My birthday was a couple of days ago. But didn’t you hear? It’s a birthday season. And I’ve been celebrating since last Friday.
As I’ve become older, my birthdays have definitely become increasingly more to my liking. It’s mainly because my friends (not my parents) actually know what I love. For example, during senior year of college, my friends threw an “Undead” party for me where they lit a dorm room red, baked zombie cupcakes, and scared me by dressing up like a mummy.
Looking back on celebrating such a day, I decided to share some old photos in order for you all to understand me a bit better. Over a laugh-filled Skype session, my sisters managed to help me find some rather hilarious photos. Let’s go back in time:
Amy’s 3rd Birthday:
Amy and Tammy Turn 6:
How to Blow Out Your Candles If You’re a Twin:
Damn. So close.
Here’s our 11th birthday:
I haven’t shared a birthday with my sister in a few years because we haven’t lived in the same city since college. As nice as it is to get your own cake and presents, only your name on a poster, and have a party all for you–it’s just not the same. I haven’t mastered using a big knife to cut a cake on my own yet.
Well, I’m excited for year 26. Still in my mid-twenties, and still look like I’m seventeen. May more ridiculous things to share with you all come about!
This is Amy Hu signing off for February 21st, 2013.
Congratulations to my cousin Raymond on becoming a wonderful new husband to his lovely wife, Denise, as of Saturday. The wedding ceremony was held outdoors at the lovely Hotel Sofitel in Redwood City by a beautiful lake. Despite the warm weather, noisy planes, and hotel clientele watching our gathering half-naked by the pool, it was a lovely evening. The open bar, dancing with my 7 year-old cousin, and red velvet cake definitely were some memorable highlights. The reception was held indoors and dinner was a fancy selection of fine American cuisine.
The funniest yet worst thing was that Vera decided to vomit on the way home. While I was at the wheel, she expressed how sick she felt and pulled down the window. I knew she was pretty drunk at the wedding considering her excessive amount of physical affection and decreasing number of blinks. When she stuck her head out the window, her puking skills allowed her to spread her half-digested-once-expensive-cuisine equally in the car and outside of it. As the mixture of food and stomach juices splattered across the window, my mother was puzzled as to why it was wet outside and convinced herself for approximately five seconds that it was raining. Her countenance soon fell at the moment of realization as the stench penetrated all our noses. It was a disaster to clean up. I nearly hurled myself in doing so.
I also got a haircut the day before I went to the wedding and I was so relieved to finally get one. I hadn’t cut my car in six months, and that was way overdue for my already unhealthy hair. I had attempted to get an appointment with my hair stylist last time I was back in the good ol’ San Ho, but that was a fail. He was completely booked. With much success this time, I had to lock in such a lovely rendezvous in Cupertino at the local Cali Hair.
Now hairstylist Raymond, not cousin Raymond, usually does a fabulous job with my hair. I’ve been going to him for 4 years now, and so we always manage to catch up and make good conversation every time he works his magic (get your head out of the gutter). The only thing is, his style is that of a very “Asian” style, basically. But the cut is good, and I just simply wet my hair and reshape it to the way I want when I come back home. Unfortunately this time, it seems this look never left me. He cut my bangs too short this time, and it’s a bit disastrous.
You might think, “Oh Amy, the drama queen you are. Your hair looks fine.” This may be true, but I had been in love with my long hair and was wary of cutting it. But it was getting way too long, as my bangs were not functioning as bangs anymore, but as an eye mask. So I had to.
My mother’s birthday was uneventful as predicted, but we did get sushi from what we think is the best sushi restaurant in town–Sato Sushi. It’s my mother’s (and family’s) favorite Japanese restaurant, and we do love our raw fish and special rolls.
My dad managed to ruffle my feathers on my last night here and during my mother’s birthday dinner. He was late because he was too busy “fixing” their new duplex in Milpitas they recently bought as another source of income. (Hey, now’s the time to buy real estate in an economy like this. My parents plan on renting it out until they decide to move into it themselves. I’m skeptical.) Not only that, but he chugged my beer right as he sat down so I had no more to enjoy and then later proceeded to let me know that I had enough food when he asked us all to finish the rest of the food. Apparently his encouragement to “everyone” to not let the food go to waste did not include me. He had been commenting on my weight the entire week, and in the emotional state I’m in, I, Amy the block of silky tofu, broke. I’m used to those comments, but during this season in realizing the relationship between my brokenness and my family, I was not ready to take on anymore from them.
It was a tough week at home overall, but it had some good moments. There’s always a risk in doing anything in life, and the more you expect, the higher the chance of things not going your way. I don’t believe in expecting nothing to shy away from disappointment, but I do believe in at least hoping for it and moving on. Whether you hope for the best haircut, a chance of vomit-free drunkenness, or a nice family dinner without being put down, the desire for it is much better than expecting. That is a lesson I have learned all my life. But hey, it still sucks when it doesn’t happen right?
And of course, Happy 25th Birthday Jenny Elizabeth Varghese. Go rent that car and take youngin’s to D&B’s!
It’s my mother’s birthday today. The woman is 58 and we shy away from saying she’s going on 60. She’s a sensitive woman.
It’s weird to think my mother, once young and vibrant, can qualify for senior discounts at some restaurants. She’s still up and at it with her frail and petite body, in order to manage a bustling Chinese restaurant (on top of a wounded ankle and bad knee) and provide for my family.
I admire a lot about my mother and in the 58 years of being alive, she has seen and experienced much more than I may ever will in the world. I do still hate the fact that she’s working at her age, and it pains me to see her work so hard and never really deeply satisfied with anything.
And I know it’s because she has not encountered Jesus in a powerful way. But I continue to intercede for her soul, and understand that there are steps I need to take for that to happen. I believe it is by no mistake that I am an intern with InterVarsity, and the already “radical” things I’ve chosen into have shaken her up, though just a bit.
I actually don’t even know when my mother’s exact birthday is. They go by the lunar calendar and it becomes much more confusing every year. It’s probably because she gets two birthdays a year, using the excuse that she celebrates either tradition when each comes around. I’ve caught her clever ways, but hey, I’m always down to celebrate. This September 27th date is just an arbitrary date my mother used when she came to this country, but it’s managed to stick with us.
I now question whether her birth year is even correct and wonder if 58 is her actual age…
This is Amy Hu signing off for September 27th, 2009.