Monthly Archives: December 2009

The Old is New Again

Edited to Add: Day Three pictures, bitchez!

So.  Today.  Bro knocked at the door this morning to ask if I wanted to go with him and my niece to grab a bun.   I’m always up for some bun-grabbin’, so I said yes.  Hey, he knocked and asked if I wanted to go.  That’s a big change for him.  Anyway, we went to Yamazaki Bakery to grab a bun or two.  They make their pastries fresh every day, and they are amazing.  My bro had a triple-cheese bread thing.  My niece had a mini tangerine Danish and…oh yeah!  Maple sugar French toast (thick-ass slice).  Me?  I had a Dutch melon bread bun.  I have no idea where the name comes from, but the bun is light and fluffy and to. die. for.   As you know, my family is very food-oriented, so that’s why I tend to describe the food I eat wherever we go.  My bro is uploading the pics to FB as I type this, so I will have pictures shortly.

So, everyone enjoyed breakfast.  We strolled back to the hotel, and I went into my room so I could get online.  I could hear my mom as she passed my door–oh, she called me at eight-thirty this morning to tell me the schedule, waking me up in the process.  My sleep has been for shit since I’ve gotten here, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary for me.

Anyhoo, my mom walked past my door to go to my bro’s room.  I heard another voice–it was my father.  I didn’t expect him to be with my mother this morning, so I tensed up immediately.  Soon, we were on our way.  There was a minor skirmish because my parents insisted my bro and I go back to get our umbrellas.  “It could rain, and we have to walk!”  They gasped in dismay.  Ok, not really, but they were pretty adamant about it.  We decided to get our umbrellas rather than waste more time arguing about it.  Needless to say, the umbrella rode along in my purse all day long.  Oh, and I will never listen to my parents tell me that it’s gonna be cold–ever.  We were going up north, and it was a bit nippy in Taipei.  They said it could get really cold.  I put on my black gortex-like longjohns under my heavier black pants.  On top, I had on a long-sleeved t–shirt under a long-sleevedshirt, and I brought a fleece jacket with me.  The fleece was the first to go.  Halfway through the day, I took off the top shirt.  If I had had on a regular t-shirt under the long-sleeved one, I would have taken off the long-sleeved t-shirt as well.

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Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes, and, the Anatomy of a Taiwanese Woman

bakeryI couldn’t sleep last night (surprise surprise).  I got up in the middle of the night to do some online stuff before trying to sleep a bit more.  When I finally got out of bed, it was eight-thirty.  To my mild surprise, no brother barging into my room.  Nothing.  Fifteen minutes later, I heard a soft knock on my door.  It’s my niece telling me it’s time to get up.  So, right off the bat, things were different this morning.

My mom showed up.  We grabbed some pastries for breakfast, and then it’s off to the National Palace Museum.  My father was busy all day long, so I did not see him today.  It makes me sad to say this, but I was relieved I didn’t have to spend any time with him.  In addition to the fact that he can reduce me to tears in a minute, I have had two more flashbacks (one a day) since I’ve been here.  The images aren’t anything new (him fingering me, him penetrating me), but the lack of surprise doesn’t diminish the emotions the images stir up inside of me.  When my mom showed up alone, I knew that I wouldn’t have to see my father at least until supper.  Then, when I found out he had a party he had to attend, my reaction was one of intense relief.   I wouldn’t have to see him at all today.  That allowed me a modicum of relaxation.  In addition, the fact that he wasn’t with us meant that I had a better shot at getting my three hours at the National Palace Museum.

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Goddamn It, I was So Fucking Close

I almost made it through the day without snapping.  I was sofuckingclose.  Five more minutes, and I would have made it through the day without snapping at my family.  I had tucked myself pretty much away for the day, and I had made it through the family reunion dinner as best as possible, and….

I fucking snapped.

Let me start at the beginning.

Today, got up around seven.  Poked around in the room for a bit, discovered I had internet capacity, and YAY!  I’m off and running.  Bro comes by and walks into my room without knocking and announces he wants to take a walk around the block before my mom comes at nine-thirty.  I say fine, but I am not very happy about the unannounced barge-in, especially as he did not close the door on the way out.

Oh, wait.  I have to start at the very beginning.

Last night, my dad came to pick us up with his driver (yes, he has a driver).  My mom stayed behind at the guest house because there wasn’t enough room in the car for her.  She got the keys to the rooms ahead of time, and then she ‘fixed up’ the rooms for us.  Which meant she was in my room before I was.  Then, my father trooped into the room last night as did my bro, so any thoughts of it being mine alone went out the window.

OK.  Back to today.  Bro, niece, and I walked around a bit and got back in plenty of time to meet my mother.  And father, apparently.  They changed the itinerary.  We had a fabulous breakfast of sticky rice before strolling around Tai Da (National University) campus.  Then, my dad went off to work, and the driver took us up a mountain to a sculpture museum.  It was really fucking cool.  Ju Ming, the artist, has done all these sculptures of different things, including people doing tai chi.  This, for me, was the best part of the day.

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One Hour

I leave for my bro’s in an hour.  My throat is tight, and I’ve forgotten how to breathe.  I will get in touch when I can.  Hope everybody else is having a good holiday season.

The Thread, It is Open

I’m packed except what can’t be packed until tomorrow morning.  I have my cell phone unlocked for international calls.  I have my toiletries and earrings packed.  Oh.  Forgot the feminine protection in case.  Will have to toss that in.  And one more pair of shoes.  I got all the clothes packed in approximately half an hour because I work well under pressure.  I just have to do some light cleaning so Natasha doesn’t pass out when she comes over to take care of my boys.

Speaking of the boys, I was taking a nap with Raven last night on the couch.  I had a pillow over my head as I always do.  I was rudely awakened by a ka-thunk.  Shadow had launched himself off the arm of the couch onto the pillow–which was smack dab on my nose.   I think he might have been trying to help me miss my plane by smothering me in my sleep.  He didn’t succeed, but he gave me one hell of a start.

A deadly calm has fallen over me–and I do mean deadly.  Numb.  I can feel the real me slipping away from my skin.  She’s not totally gone because I don’t seem able to do that any longer–but she’s making her escape.

Resignation has settled over me.  I didn’t back out in time, so this is what I have to do.

I fucking hate this.  Somewhere in the remote fibers of my being, I wonder if I’ll make it back.  The last time the real me took a break from reality, she disappeared for fifteen years, more or less.   I am afraid to think of what will happen if she leaves again.  It’s not so easy calling her back.

I’m using this as the open thread that whabs requested.  I will be boarding the plane around 12:30 tomorrow afternoon.  First flight is 13 hours.  Layover in Tokyo, and then 4 more hours to Taiwan.  I do not know when I will be able to check back in.

I just want to say, thank you all for your unwavering support, especially in the last few weeks.  I am truly lucky to have y’all in my life.

Edited to Add: It’s now a quarter to eleven.   I am starting to quietly freak  the fuck out.  The numbness isn’t complete, and I can hear a voice in my head saying, “You can’t do this.  You can’t.  You can’t.”  The sad thing is, I’m not sure if it’s a demon or the real me.  I can’t tell who’s who any more.

Worst Daughter in the World

My parents called tonight.  I considered not answering, but I decided to bite the bullet and be a woman about it.  I picked up when I heard my mom’s voice.  She immediately started saying how she and my father are so excited about us going (my bro, my niece, and me).  Then she paused and asked what she asks me every time, “So, are you excited?”

Excited?  Sure, if by excited you mean I can’t breathe and I feel like I’m going to pass out from terror.  I’m that kind of excited.  Then she asked if I was going to bring a hard copy of her book, and I said, “No.”  They have print shops there.   I am not going to lug around an almost-three hundred page manuscript halfway around the world.  She was saying how she would have to go to the shop and get it printed…yes, well, that’s exactly what I would have to do, in addition to lugging it halfway around the world.  She was pulling the helpless trick again, and I did not react well.

I am afraid I snapped at her.  My tightly-controlled emotions are not-so-tightly controlled, it seems.  I have always had more difficulty not exploding at my family.  They know just the right buttons to push because, as people have pointed out to me, they are the ones who installed the buttons in the first place.

Then, we talk about the snow we are getting here.  She frets about the planes being delayed and such.  She frets about us missing our connection.  I said there isn’t much we can do about it, and she said, “You only have ten days!  We don’t want to cut short a minute with you.”

Guilt.  Heavy guilt.

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Alex Fucking Rocks

Alex fucking rocks.  He found a totally gorgeous version of my favorite song as done by the Dublin Gospel Choir.  It gave me chills.

And, he also linked this very cute takeoff of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody.  The video is crap, but the song is worth a listen.

Merry Xmas.

Two Days

I can’t do it.  I can’t go.  I am listening to Apocalyptica (from the entry below), and I am freaking the fuck out.  Not only am I thinking about all the things I need to do before I go (clean, laundry, pack, freak the fuck out more); I am thinking about the actual trip.

I can’t breathe.

My stomach is cramping in anxiety, and I feel like I’m going to throw up (not nauseous).

I can’t.

I can’t.

I can’t.

I have to do this.

I can’t back out now.  It’s far too fucking late, which is pretty much the story of my life .  Because I am a chickenshit, I will go through with this trip and pretend to be having a good time (as best I can).

I am going to hurt myself.  I just now it.  I don’t know how I will do it, but I will.  Unfortunately, it’s my default position, and the one with which I feel most comfortable.

I can feel myself slipping backwards now.  I hate that I am giving in to my old bad habits, but I can’t seem to stop myself.  I am ashamed that things I haven’t done in years are popping up again.

I can’t sleep.  I can’t rest.  I had a decent day today, and now, the demons are swarming at me full force.

They tell me that  I’m stupid for letting my mom’s project go so late.  They tell me that I’m a fuck-up and a failure and that I should just DIAF.  They say that I’m a fat bitch who will get so much shit for being so damn fat when I go to Taiwan.  They tell me that I’m stupid and ugly and grotesque.  And, they won’t fucking shut up.

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Merry Xmas, Bitchez!

All right.  You all know that I am not a religious person in the least or at all holiday-inclined.  My crazy twin, Kel, has been singing carols on my VM, usually with her own lyrics.  She is cracking me the fuck up, and that’s not easy to do with Christmas shit.

I don’t know when I started loathing the holidays.  I learned about Santa when I was six because he didn’t visit our house one Christmas (to fill the stockings.  Nothing worse than waking up to an empty stocking).  I ran to tell my mother (who was still in bed), and she told me to go back to bed.   An hour later, she told me that Santa had come.  Sure enough, my stocking was filled.  Um, yeah.

In seventh grade, I wrote an article for the school paper about the commercialization of Christmas, and my feelings have only stronger on the subject since then.  And, as I touched on in yesterday’s entry, Christmas in recent years means sitting around feeling like a complete loser/outsider whom wouldn’t even be missed if she weren’t there.

Sure, it’s partly because of my anti-tradition stance, but it’s something deeper than that.  I think because the alienation I feel on a daily basis is only exacerbated at this time of year.

Plus, as we near the end of the year, I become reflective of all the things I haven’t done yet.  Yes, that’s the way I roll.  I do it on my birthday, too, which is why I used to hate my birthday.  Now, I am largely indifferent to it.

Anyway.  I do have a point to this entry.  As much of a curmudgeon I am, there is one Christmas classic that I adore.  I sang it one Christmas (yes, in a church), and it sends chills down my spine whenever I hear it.  In fact, I was at a Big Name Bookstore (bought some mysteries full-price as my treat to me after stopping by FedEx Office to make sure the manuscript from hell got sent off.  I usually buy my books on line at, and I heard the song there. It actually made me…less freaked out for a second.

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