Home-cooked

Thanksgiving break was okay—nothing too blogworthy, just a lot of relaxing back at home in NorCal. I drove back Wednesday night with Sang, Trung, and his friend John Duong, and we got back home around 3 or 4 AM. On Thursday evening, my relatives once again gathered at my house to feast on my mom’s cooking. I wish the responsibilities of holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas wouldn’t always fall on my mom, but I think she’s the only versatile cook in the family who can make something not Vietnamese, so my relatives look to her for adventures into American dinners. The Thanksgiving menu this year included turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, egg salad, and deviled eggs, all made from scratch.

I’m actually very proud of my mom when it comes to her cooking because I think she’s the only one in the entire family that cooks for get-togethers. Even for events that call for Asian cuisine, my mom will make the fried rice, eggrolls, won ton soup, and even fish sauce all by herself, while everyone else normally just buys unauthentic crap from their nearest rundown King Eggroll. As for desserts, everyone takes a last-minute on-the-way-there trip to the grocery store to buy two-day-old banana cream pies while my mom spends all morning baking almond cakes, cheesecakes, or apple pies, up to four to make sure that there’s enough for everyone.

But she seriously needs a break. I don’t mind eating generic foods that taste more like the sweatshop kitchens they were made in if it means that for once, my mom can relax for one entire holiday.

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“Bile in a Bowl”
Written November 5th, 2006 (Excerpted)

Tonight, for dinner, my mom made something that looked like somebody vomited shrimp into a sauce pan and boiled it. Smelled a lot like it too. I pushed myself to eat at least half of it to be nice because my mom spent half the day making it. However, I knew that if I had one more bite, I would’ve thrown up tomorrow’s dinner.

Before going upstairs, I told my parents that I’d be back down later tonight to make something else to eat. I know that research says that eating dinner with the family at least five times a week is healthy, but lately, I haven’t been doing that. For the past month, I’ve been eating lunch around 6, so when my mom or dad finishes cooking dinner at 7, I’m not hungry yet. I usually later come down an hour after they’ve already gone to bed. It’s not like I’m actually missing much though because I hardly ever say anything to them when we do have dinner together, although it still feels weird because it’s like we hardly even live in the same house anymore. The only time I ever really see my parents now is when they’re sitting in the passenger seat watching over me as a drive us to Oakridge. Once I finally get my driver’s license, they’ll just be the people who sign my permission slips and give me food and money.

The joys of the holiday season.
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On Saturday, my mom made the same “bile in a bowl,” canh chua đồ biển (sour soup with a bunch of seafood in it), and, as far as I can recall, this is something I’ve always enjoyed. I was just too angsty of a teenager to admit it back then.



In other news, there’s now another kid in the family who’s old enough to walk/run/somewhat talk/annoy me. And, we had an autistic four-year-old at dinner, too! My aunt’s son’s girlfriend brought her little niece along. I didn’t actually confirm that the girl was autistic, but it was implied.



This Thanksgiving marked Trung’s third Thanksgiving with my relatives. I think they all know him pretty well by now, but do they know him as the guy I am dating (dated)?



After I fed an essay I wrote in English into a French translator for French class and submitted it to my teacher, Trung and I went to the Great Mall at midnight. Parking and people were terrible, and I only managed to buy myself a plain red hoodie for $20. Ran into Sang and then another friend I met through Funksters Summer Intensive. I’m gonna do my best to visit Funksters some time during winter break.



Friday and Saturday, nothing really remarkable happened. I mainly hung out with Trung, went shopping at various places, bought some more nothing, and ate food. Friday night, I went gay clubbing at Fuz without Trung but with my high school friends Maggie, Thuy, Autumn, Elora, and Loppy. It was my first time gay clubbing without Trung, and, it was nothing special, just I had discovered with being a single college student for the first time. I did do a lot of catching up, so the night was still fun.



On Sunday, I drove back down to SoCal with Sang, Trung, and Chris Duong, a friend who I first met working at SCORE! The ride was trafficky, but I was glad I made it. Thank you to Chris for hitting me across the head with a can of Axe to keep me awake behind the wheel.

I was wiped out when I got back, but my energy and all remains of a good mood died when I checked some two- or one-day old voicemails. On Saturday morning, I had received one from my manager at the Education Academy. She was asking me where I was--I was apparently running late for my shift according to her. Yes, the one I thought I cleared up a week ago. Fuck-up number six actually looks like a really big one, and now I’m pretty damn worried. I’m currently waiting for my manager to reply back to my really really extremely apologetic email.



Only two more weeks left before winter break; I can do this.