i am not a damn fool
OH HELL YES, I went. It was quite the Chinese-y Saturday. Sometimes I really hate being Chinese; the stereotypes of good at math, bad at English; the constant responsibility to drive extra-well so as to not bring down my people in the rampant hatred of slanty-eyed chinks in Toyotas; chicken feet for breakfast. But some days, I revel in Chinese-ness of my life as if I were an outsider. It is at times, so very amusing.
Saturday afternoon, I met my parents for lunch at a restaurant in Monterey Park called Yume. Not Yume like "plume," but Yume like "yummy." As in, "These pig snouts in soy sauce are yume!" Fine. Artistic license and what not. Within the pistachio green walls of this respectably busy establishment, a waitress lay a menu in front of me. My parents and aunt and uncle had already ordered but they indulged my choosing an extra dish. I seriously considered getting the "Salad and Breast" combo which seemed both low carb and high sexy. You gotta love the goddamn Chinese ignorance of English words for genitalia. The grown-ups were only mildly entertained by my delightful discovery. Too tired, I let my parents decide for me and sat in complacency as a 28-year old who joined the adult table through a series of timeouts and warnings. We ate, they fought for the bill while I yawned and let them have at it, we left.
At the parents' home, I discussed our attendance at the potluck with The Shrimp. Our mother tried to talk us out of it upon learning about the previous blog entry.
"But we LIKE your friends!" I argued.
"Don't write about them on your internet."
Heh.
So, we went. The Shrimp and I were armed with my new camera and good spirits. I parked outside Kitty's house and immediately flung off the lens cap of the SLR and had to take a picture of dogs, four of them, left in the car in front of ours presumably for the duration of the party. Someone couldn't bear to leave them at home but COULD bear to leave them in the dark, cracked-window hell of their automobile. For shame. We began to dial PETA but reached the door before it connected.
Ding dong.
The door was opened with hesitation. Who could these two stunning ladies be? Oh, you're Bobo's kids! Come in! Who else, WHO ELSE would be just inside the front door, coddling his new grandson? No one else but the sea captain himself, Bernard. Sadly, Bernard disappointed us with his completely pedestrian attire. Worse, cooing with grandbaby of Bernard elicited a most unfavorable response from the 6 month-old whose face immediately contorted into a rumpled mess with a weird wailing sound emanating forth. It heralded our arrival.
We were immediately directed to the degustation table. Upon it was set out an array of classic Chinese dishes. Two types of curry, sauteed vegetables, sushi, vegetarian tofu stir-fry, assorted rice mixtures, spaghetti with marinara (wha?) and most anomalous, an aluminum foil container filled with what seemed like Oscar Meyer weiners, sliced on the bias, in some reddish-brown sauce with green onions. Fusion indeed.
My two favorite things of the evening: Kitty's jeans and the karaoke. Kitty's jeans had a flouncy young girl with brown hair and big blue eyes painted on one leg and nonsensical "french" words scrawled on the other. She was the epitome of Japanese/Parisian chic from the waist down. Up top, she paired a green and pink sweater with black detailing. Sigh. I took a few photos but I can't post them because my mother, should she ever muster enough internet search engine skills, might find them. This will never come to fruition however, parental guilt is an invisible yet overpowering force. So, you will just have to take my word for it.
As for the karaoke, as my sister and I hid in the karaoke "lounge," hoping to take advantage of food being in mouths thus prohibiting singing, we were foiled when my father and another male guest invaded our space and started warming up the machine. This is another one of those Chinese things I love. Karaoke videos. Now, make no mistake, I can speak Cantonese, can order food in a restaurant in Cantonese, can tell a perverted old fucker to sod off in Cantonese, but I cannot read Chinese characters or understand the convoluted grammar involved in Cantonese songwriting. That being said, I am almost certain that no karaoke video in the history of karaoke videos has ever had visuals that match the sentiment of the lyrics in the song, no matter how little I understand.
Video #1: La, la, la, something about love. The Shrimp and I are watching a "mother" and "father" couple with their small child, a young girl, probably 5 years-old. Father goes to work while Mother plays with child. Mother looks out the window cut to: Child drinking a glass of milk. Father comes home to talk with Mother. They look in the mirrow. Child holds a stuffed penguin. Drinks more milk. Mother touches the drapery as she stares out the window with sad eyes. Father smiles. Are they fighting or post-coital? I don't know. Is it a song about calcium? Maybe. I shouldn't judge. I should go get more Oscar Meyer weiners in green onion sauce.
Video #2: La, la, la, something about...love? Girl with bad perm and boy with bleached jeans are frolicking on basketball court. Now they're sharing an ice cream cone. Girl stares out a rainy window. I suppose this means they've broken up. Boy walks down the street. Girl stands next to the parking meter. Girl goes to ring a doorbell but doesn't. She hesitates. Hairband is probably on too tight. Flashback to the pearlescent ice cream cone on the basketball court days. Girl sits at the park. I'm pretty sure the song was about camping.
If I can find the time, I will post some screenshots of karaoke videos with their lyrics, translate them from Chinese to English and see how close they are in meaning to Girl brushing her hair at the zoo. For now, just imagine if you will, two girls finishing curry off styrofoam plates. Fatter Girl points discreetly at oddly dressed woman. Skinnier Girl tries not to laugh. Internet unsavvy Mother walks by, shakes her head and glares venomously at the two. Girls say goodbye to party guests as they search for their shoes in the sea of cast offs near the front door. A good time had by all.
Saturday afternoon, I met my parents for lunch at a restaurant in Monterey Park called Yume. Not Yume like "plume," but Yume like "yummy." As in, "These pig snouts in soy sauce are yume!" Fine. Artistic license and what not. Within the pistachio green walls of this respectably busy establishment, a waitress lay a menu in front of me. My parents and aunt and uncle had already ordered but they indulged my choosing an extra dish. I seriously considered getting the "Salad and Breast" combo which seemed both low carb and high sexy. You gotta love the goddamn Chinese ignorance of English words for genitalia. The grown-ups were only mildly entertained by my delightful discovery. Too tired, I let my parents decide for me and sat in complacency as a 28-year old who joined the adult table through a series of timeouts and warnings. We ate, they fought for the bill while I yawned and let them have at it, we left.
At the parents' home, I discussed our attendance at the potluck with The Shrimp. Our mother tried to talk us out of it upon learning about the previous blog entry.
"But we LIKE your friends!" I argued.
"Don't write about them on your internet."
Heh.
So, we went. The Shrimp and I were armed with my new camera and good spirits. I parked outside Kitty's house and immediately flung off the lens cap of the SLR and had to take a picture of dogs, four of them, left in the car in front of ours presumably for the duration of the party. Someone couldn't bear to leave them at home but COULD bear to leave them in the dark, cracked-window hell of their automobile. For shame. We began to dial PETA but reached the door before it connected.
Ding dong.
The door was opened with hesitation. Who could these two stunning ladies be? Oh, you're Bobo's kids! Come in! Who else, WHO ELSE would be just inside the front door, coddling his new grandson? No one else but the sea captain himself, Bernard. Sadly, Bernard disappointed us with his completely pedestrian attire. Worse, cooing with grandbaby of Bernard elicited a most unfavorable response from the 6 month-old whose face immediately contorted into a rumpled mess with a weird wailing sound emanating forth. It heralded our arrival.
We were immediately directed to the degustation table. Upon it was set out an array of classic Chinese dishes. Two types of curry, sauteed vegetables, sushi, vegetarian tofu stir-fry, assorted rice mixtures, spaghetti with marinara (wha?) and most anomalous, an aluminum foil container filled with what seemed like Oscar Meyer weiners, sliced on the bias, in some reddish-brown sauce with green onions. Fusion indeed.
My two favorite things of the evening: Kitty's jeans and the karaoke. Kitty's jeans had a flouncy young girl with brown hair and big blue eyes painted on one leg and nonsensical "french" words scrawled on the other. She was the epitome of Japanese/Parisian chic from the waist down. Up top, she paired a green and pink sweater with black detailing. Sigh. I took a few photos but I can't post them because my mother, should she ever muster enough internet search engine skills, might find them. This will never come to fruition however, parental guilt is an invisible yet overpowering force. So, you will just have to take my word for it.
As for the karaoke, as my sister and I hid in the karaoke "lounge," hoping to take advantage of food being in mouths thus prohibiting singing, we were foiled when my father and another male guest invaded our space and started warming up the machine. This is another one of those Chinese things I love. Karaoke videos. Now, make no mistake, I can speak Cantonese, can order food in a restaurant in Cantonese, can tell a perverted old fucker to sod off in Cantonese, but I cannot read Chinese characters or understand the convoluted grammar involved in Cantonese songwriting. That being said, I am almost certain that no karaoke video in the history of karaoke videos has ever had visuals that match the sentiment of the lyrics in the song, no matter how little I understand.
Video #1: La, la, la, something about love. The Shrimp and I are watching a "mother" and "father" couple with their small child, a young girl, probably 5 years-old. Father goes to work while Mother plays with child. Mother looks out the window cut to: Child drinking a glass of milk. Father comes home to talk with Mother. They look in the mirrow. Child holds a stuffed penguin. Drinks more milk. Mother touches the drapery as she stares out the window with sad eyes. Father smiles. Are they fighting or post-coital? I don't know. Is it a song about calcium? Maybe. I shouldn't judge. I should go get more Oscar Meyer weiners in green onion sauce.
Video #2: La, la, la, something about...love? Girl with bad perm and boy with bleached jeans are frolicking on basketball court. Now they're sharing an ice cream cone. Girl stares out a rainy window. I suppose this means they've broken up. Boy walks down the street. Girl stands next to the parking meter. Girl goes to ring a doorbell but doesn't. She hesitates. Hairband is probably on too tight. Flashback to the pearlescent ice cream cone on the basketball court days. Girl sits at the park. I'm pretty sure the song was about camping.
If I can find the time, I will post some screenshots of karaoke videos with their lyrics, translate them from Chinese to English and see how close they are in meaning to Girl brushing her hair at the zoo. For now, just imagine if you will, two girls finishing curry off styrofoam plates. Fatter Girl points discreetly at oddly dressed woman. Skinnier Girl tries not to laugh. Internet unsavvy Mother walks by, shakes her head and glares venomously at the two. Girls say goodbye to party guests as they search for their shoes in the sea of cast offs near the front door. A good time had by all.
posted by Katie at 5:54 PM
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