Yellow Gal

Friday, May 25, 2012

Begotten of the begotten

It's unreal that she is less than 9 weeks away. Little Yellow Gal.

I've been waiting to meet this person for several months. It feels like a blind date, in a strange way. I'm faced with similar questions: What will she look like? Will we get along? What kind of personality will she have? Will she love me? What if she thinks I'm a loser? (Okay, that is probably inevitable.)

The whole motherhood concept is inarticulable. As I anticipate the immense expense and commitment of having a daughter, I can't help but reflect upon how I was as a daughter. And, well, along with that, all the grief I caused my parents.

Not that I was an awful demon child. I didn't sneak out with boys at 2 am or smoke pot in my room. But I was an angsty teen. I complained a lot. I felt perpetually deprived of all the things I felt I deserved as an American adolescent. I didn't have as many or nice of clothes, receive as many Christmas gifts, or get to drive a new car like other kids did.

Oh, the injustice. And how I protested against this injustice -- through hours and days of whining, crying, door-slamming, and sulking.

It didn't matter that my parents first came to this country with barely the money to afford an apartment and food. I wanted the same shit everyone else had, and resented my parents -- yes, even hated them at times -- because I couldn't have those things, which I believed were the key to adolescent happiness.

You don't realize what you had . . . until you have to provide it for your own kid. The hubs and I are off to a better start than my parents were. Yet still, I can't imagine enduring all the demands of a teenage girl.

Do I dare admit that reflecting upon my imminent parenthood makes me a little bit more grateful for what they did for me? (Mmm, maybe later.)

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Why is it

that when I see a memorial, webpage, or commercial about a suffering or dying pet, I start tearing up uncontrollably? I need to get a grip.

Yellow baby-to-be

As I predicted in my previous entry, I am having a girl. As soon as the sonographer typed onto the ultrasound screen, "IT'S A BABY GIRL!!!" I nodded knowingly, while my husband laughed excitedly.

A girl. A little yellow girl.

I wonder what she'll look like, and whom she will take after. I hope her temperament is more like her father's - patient, good-natured, forgiving, easy-going, and generous.

I hope that she's a happy child, that her heart isn't broken too many times, and that she learns to look ahead and not dwell on hurts of the past.

Does every mother want her daughter to be a better, happier woman than the mother could be? Is that an unfair burden for a girl to bear? I suppose it depends on how the mother manifests that hope; whether she is overbearing and controlling, or encouraging and respectful.

Which leads me to my second hope - that I'll be a good mom.

How does a person prepare to take on the most difficult job in the world with zero experience or training?

Not really sure. But ready or not, here she comes (soon!).

Saturday, January 14, 2012

The Year of the Dragon draws near

I realize it's been several months since my last post. The reason being, only a few weeks after my previous post, I learned (or suspected) I was pregnant.

Yes, pregnant!

I wasn't 100.00% sure because pregnancy tests can have false positive results. But when I saw the doctor in December, it was confirmed. I am indeed with child.

It wasn't completely unexpected. The hubby and I were trying, but didn't expect to succeed during the first month of trying. Needless to say, it was a lifestyle change to forgo all booze, caffeine, and sushi even before we began trying.

So! I'm due in July, in the year of the Dragon. It should be an auspicious year. I have a feeling the baby will be a girl. The eldest child -- possibly a dragon girl -- will indeed be a feisty, fiery force to be reckoned with. Hopefully she will have only half the sass her mom has.

And so a Yellow Gal may beget another Yellow Gal.

Friday, October 21, 2011

Sick day

One of the wonderful consequences of cohabiting with the one you love is that you double the probability of getting sick.

When my hubs got sick several days ago, I felt perfectly fine, despite his coughing, sniffling and wheezing all day. But after a few days of nonstop exposure, I too started coughing, sniffling and wheezing. Bleh.

I imagine that once a couple has children, the probability of catching a cold triples or quadruples (depending on the number of kids).

If there is ever a test for my immune system, the future is it.

Saturday, October 01, 2011

Being happy

Ever since I was a child, I have wondered what makes people happy.

One of my friends apparently has everything. She is intelligent and attractive, has a high-paying job with minimal hours, does intellectually stimulating work, and has a boyfriend who adores her.

Yet she always finds something to be unhappy about. And she complains.

A lot.

She complains about the boss who likes her so much, he annoys her. (Never mind she always has glowing performance reviews.) She complains about her mortgage payments and interest rate. (Never mind that her salary enables her to pay her mortgage payments tenfold per month.) She complains about her weight. (Never mind that she's skinny as a stick.)

Her negativity extends beyond herself to her immediate surroundings and acquaintances. Suppose I planned a soiree and 99.9% of it went swimmingly. Afterwards, she will bluntly point out the 0.1% that went awry and discuss how it went awry.

This behavior irks me because:

(1) Negativity is contagious. If I am surrounded by negativity, I begin to breed negativity.

(2) She has so much more going for her. To complain about her weight in front of ladies heavier than she is, or complain about finances in front of ladies who make less than she does or who don't even have a job is uncouth, to say the least.

And then it occurred to me: She might be incapable of being happy. Something fundamental in her chemical wiring renders it impossible to be happy. No life circumstance -- no matter how wonderful or serendipitous -- could ever make her happy.

Then I think about my other girlfriend. She grew up without a father, and so her mother struggled financially throughout her childhood. She was sexually abused by an uncle when she was in high school. And not too long ago, her mother passed away from a long battle with ovarian cancer. She does not make that much money and works long hours, yet somehow, she is a happier person. Yes, she suffered when awful events occurred, but she never lost her natural tendency to be positive and forward thinking.

This friend is somehow hard-wired to be a happier person, regardless of life circumstance.

I remember a study that I once heard that struck me. (Bear in mind, it could be from a movie or novel and, therefore, entirely fictional.) It was a study of two groups of people over a six-month period. One group tended to be positive and happy. The other group tended to be negative and unhappy. The study then focused on positive life experiences, such as winning the lottery or getting married, and negative life experiences, such as becoming quadriplegic, or losing a spouse or friend.

It turned out that when the positive/happy group suffered negative life events, they were temporarily depressed, but eventually reverted back to their positive/happy state. And when the negative/unhappy group enjoyed positive life events, they were temporarily uplifted before reverting back to their negative/unhappy state.

Are some people born with a physiology that enables them to be happier than others?

Is happiness simply a matter of neurological fate?

As for me, I think I've become happier as I've gotten older. Maybe because I found a life partner. Maybe because I learned not to sweat the small stuff as much. Maybe because I have a little more perspective on life. It takes time to realize that the things that do inevitably go wrong in life end up working out, albeit not perfectly. And after experiencing the passing of a friend or relative, you learn to focus on the important things in life instead of trivial matters.

I have distanced myself from the above-mentioned negative friend, and grown closer to the happy friend. And I think that helped too. Surrounding oneself with positive people rather than negative folks uplifts the mood.

These are the things I tell myself when I get annoyed by an obnoxious driver during rush hour or a snide remark at work. They are what they are -- inconsequential life circumstances that have no bearing on my happiness.

Friday, September 02, 2011

Forget me not

What would life be like if we had no memory? What if we had no memory of people or events? Instead, our entire existence would be the sum of our immediate sensory perception. I wonder if we would we be happier or sadder. Every scar and bruise would be a mystery, and every person would be a stranger. (Heaven for an extrovert, hell for an introvert.)

We would have no memories of pain. But we would also have no memories of joy.

It's strange. The more distant a memory is in my mind, the softer it becomes. Kind of like a photograph that was once crisp and clear, and later fades, curls and blurs with time. It almost seems like part of a dream, or part of a novel you once read years ago.

Other memories are visited more often, with the most salient and pleasurable elements specially preserved, if not magnified. That BBQ at the park with the old college friends. The grill smelled smokier, the boxed wine tasted sweeter, and the cool grass prickled your toes just a bit more in your memory than it might have in reality.

It's your memory, though. You can do what you want with it.

Right?

I think about the people who are no longer in my life. They loiter in the back of my mind and reappear at particular moments in time, like when I'm waiting in line or when I see an oddity that reminds me of them. They reenact scenes or conversations I had with them and then, when their performance ends, they bow and exit stage left.

Then I wonder. Am I a memory in someone else's mind? The raven-haired girl who wanders into someone's dream, recites a bitter or sweet line, and leaves the room? Does my appearance onstage conjure joy, sadness, rage, or pity? Or am I not even in the cast?

I wonder if it is better to be remembered or forgotten. When I reflect upon my life, I think I'd rather be forgotten by those in the past, and remembered by those in the present.

Things learned the hard way #582,376

Never rely on anyone to be accountable.

(This statement is the kinder cousin to the corollary, "Trust no one.")

Earlier this week, I had spoken with my manager about an Issue. "I'm on top of it," he assured me. "Don't worry about it, I'll let the Senior Boss know I'm on it."

This morning, however, I received a terse email:

Yellow Gal,

It has come to my attention that [the Issue] was not resolved. I took care of it. In the future, please ensure that [the Issue] is resolved and update me on its status.

Thanks.
Senior Boss

Immediately after receiving the email, I called Senior Boss.

It rang twice before he picked up. "Hello, this is [Senior Boss]."

"Hi Senior Boss, this is Yellow Gal, how are you?"

"Fine."

I waited for him to ask how I was doing. After three seconds, I realized that wasn't going to happen, so I said, "I received your email. Manager told me he took care of the Issue, and would talk to you. I assumed he resolved it."

"Well he didn't," Senior Boss said. I could hear the irritation grating in his voice. "I understand what you're saying. But in the future, talk to me directly instead of just speaking with Manager."

"Understood" was what I should have said. "Okay!" was what I chirped.

There were a few seconds of subsiding silence. Then he proceeded to talk about other work matters.

So yeah. Even if it's your manager or someone you typically rely on, follow up. A tiny thought flitted through my mind that maybe I should have looped back to Senior Boss - but I didn't.

Listen to the tiny thought.

Monday, August 29, 2011

Resolution (sort of)

I received the following message from "The Blogger Team" after reporting all 151 of my plagiarized blog entries:

Hello,

Thanks for reaching out to us.

We have received your DMCA complaint. Upon recent review of the blog(s) mentioned in your complaint, it appears that the post(s) in question no longer exist(s). If this matter is still a concern, please reply to this email with detailed information to enable us to locate the allegedly infringing content.

Regards,

The Google Team

So that's that.

I guess she deleted the blog herself rather than waiting for Blogger to investigate and shut it down.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

Violation

Plagiarizing someone's blog is not only a legal and moral violation. It's a personal violation.

I have blogged about so many things - my childhood, my father who passed away, conversations with my mother, men I have dated before I met my husband, racism I have experienced, feelings of self-doubt, neurosis, and insecurity. These moments are intimate to my life. They are mine.

To see someone take those memories and feelings, and replace a word or two with some other inane noun or verb is such an insult to the original memory or feeling. It is a violation of the most intimate kind.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

It's still on.

I looked through Thinking's blog, and learned she plagiarized multiple other bloggers.

I contacted and emailed each and every one of them, and posted the precise link to Thinking's blog that copies their blog entries. Hopefully, Blogger will take down the blog.

I attempted to comment on Thinking's blog, but she moderates her comments, so obviously she will disapprove any comment pointing out her plagiarism. She also conveniently deleted my previous posts on her blog about her plagiarized blog entries.

It looks like Crystal Jigsaw and I were the most heavily plagiarized. We'll see what happens next.

151 Plagiarized Entries (at least)

It's on like Donkey Kong.

Well I tried.

It turns out that Thinking has not only plagiarized my blog, but other bloggers as well. And continues to do it to this day, despite her apology on my blog.

If you visit her page right now, the first post dated August 25, 2011 titled, "If I were a beloved Husband!," is plagiarized from fridz's blog entry, "if i were a boy."

Her next post dated August 22, 2011 titled, "Who is THINKING ?" (not Thinking, obviously), is plagiarized from Crystal Jigsaw's blog entry, "Who Is Crystal Jigsaw?"

And many, many other entries have been copied, pasted, and tinkered with just enough to render them non-identical. I plan to contact these other bloggers, contact Blogger, and call Thinking out on her blog.

Is this personal?

Yeah, this is personal.

Friday, August 05, 2011

The permanence of love

Last night, a friend passed away.

She was one of those girls who was always in a good mood. Funny, slightly goofy, and unafraid to stand in front of a crowd during karaoke and belt her heart out. She was an aspiring violinist, and played in a few chamber orchestras in the city. Her dream was to play for the New York Philharmonic. She was my age.

The moment I found out she was pregnant, I congratulated her and her husband on their expectancy. She was super excited and stoked to be an expecting mother. They found out they were having a son and I was so happy for her.

Yesterday, she checked into the hospital. Later that evening, they induced labor and she gave birth to a beautiful, healthy girl. The doctors noticed something was very very wrong, and called her family immediately. When the family arrived, the doctors delivered the bad news: she had suffered from internal bleeding, and passed away.

It is devastating on so many levels. Her husband is a widower at just age 35. He lost his life partner, his best friend, his wife. They seemed so happy together, and all of a sudden she's just gone. The infant daughter will no doubt be showered with love for the rest of her life. But she will never know her mother. And her birth will forever be linked with her mother's death.

I think of my friend. She was so vibrant. I remember her counting the days to her giving birth, her exclaiming that in just X number of days, she was going to be a mommy. Her baby shower was just a couple weeks ago.

It just seems impossible that someone who can be so full of life one day be simply gone the next. Where does that life force go? That energy, that expectant joy and excitement? Does it simply vanish? It just seems so shocking and stark, it makes no sense.

Her daughter will never know her mother. But I know that the daughter will learn about her mother when she grows older, through videos, photographs, and stories. The daughter will listen to recordings of her mother playing the violin. She will watch her parents' wedding video, and see photographs of her mother dressed as Batgirl at her last Halloween party.

I have faith that the rest of the family will inherit the love my friend would have had for her daughter, and will shower the daughter with that love. That love will never vanish. It will live on in those who share it.

Thursday, August 04, 2011

Run.

I really want to run tonight. Run the anxiety out of my toes. Run the thoughts out of my head. Running is one of the few times where you are in complete control of the situation: how long you run, how fast you run, what you wear.

If you want to stop, you can stop. If you want to go farther than yesterday, you can. No judgment.

It's kind of nice.

Redemption

I believe in redemption. I believe people can make a mistake and later have the choice to do the right thing.

So far, my admirer/plagiarizer has not issued any public apology or detraction on her blog. It makes me sad. And it puts me in a very uncomfortable, unfortunate situation. I really do not want to go onto each entry and post my original entry to discredit her.

I really want to give her the choice. Everyone deserves a chance.

Sunday, July 31, 2011

Plagiarized blogs abound

I googled "plagiarized blog" and numerous websites popped up on other bloggers who have been plagiarized. Looks like I'm not alone:

A published author named Mary W. Walters discovered her blog was being plagiarized extensively just a couple weeks ago, and is looking into what she can do.

Another blogger, Truthful Mommy, has had her blog plagiarized multiple times. She provides several solutions, like installing software that prevents people from copy-and-pasting her blog text.

There are also articles on preventing blog content theft:

and so many more!

Thanks to techiedevil, a blogger on Internet Marketing Journal, I learned how to prevent content theft by employing a script that prevents copy-and-pasting as suggested by Truthful Mommy above.

We'll wait and see what happens next!

Plagiarism is the sincerest form of flattery

I just discovered someone has been plagiarizing my blog! I am both flattered and disturbed right now. Well, if you're reading this, "Thinking," I have just outed you.

The blogger, "Thinking," has a blog entry, "I am White Swan !" dated September 23, 2010, that is almost word-for-word identical to my blog entry, "I am a white swan," dated December 3, 2005. "Thinking" added a sentence or two, but they're pretty much the same. Click on the two hyperlinks, and judge for yourselves.

Just found another one, "Not that INTO me ?" dated August 12, 2010, which is eerily similar to one of my older entries, "He's just not that into me?" dated December 25, 2005.

I don't have the time or energy to see what other entries "Thinking" copied and slightly modified for "originality's sake." Suffice it to say, I don't mind if people quote, copy, whatever from my blog. Just give me some credit!

Of course, I read all the comments to "Thinking's blog entries" and read them as if they're responding to me. Also, I will post a comment on her blog. Who knows how many other bloggers have been plagiarized?

To quote Thinking, "I am honored" to have been plagiarized. (See? This sentence is an example of attributing credit.)

Our avatars

Social networking is an interesting phenomenon. I am thinking of Facebook, in particular. It is a projection of what the user wants the world to see. Witty status updates, selected photographs showing only your good side, and only the interests, books, and movies you're not embarrassed of. Your profile is a well-crafted depiction of the person you wish others to see.

Not unlike online dating, in a way.

Or blogging. Admittedly, I shape my blog according to the messages, anecdotes, and fictions I want to convey. Yes, I sometimes include the unhappy, embarrassing, humbling moments, but even those moments are crafted.

Does anyone ever want anyone else to know the "real" us? Not just the embarrassing stories your college friends know, but the shit, despair, and humiliation. It was bad enough to go through it once; why relive that shit again by revealing it to people? Each new acquaintance is a blank slate from which you can construct your new persona. You were never a neglected child, an abused teen, or battered wife. You are simply a new person to this new acquaintance.

Revealing one's "real" self is a rare event, perhaps only to a select few -- a best friend, a significant other, at most. And that revelation of your true self is only when you truly believes you won't be judged for your flaws, mistakes, or traumas. It is also the only way to achieve genuine intimacy.

The rest of the world -- including our parents, friends, and coworkers -- is kept at arm's length; they see only a filtered version of our true selves. None of them know the "real" us. They only know our projections.

Friday, July 22, 2011

My list of places to visit (in no order)

Spain
Australia
Egypt
Portugal
New Zealand
Thailand
India
Turkey
Czech Republic
Japan
Costa Rica
Philippines
Ireland
Amsterdam
China

And revisit:

France
England
Greece
Italy
Brazil

I just need to win the lottery, that's all.