09/30/01
Unburdened
Part 1:
At my reading for APAture this past friday.
I didn’t pee in my shorts.
I didn’t barf.
I didn’t pass out.
I survived.
So, to me, that’s considered a success. Yes, my voice trembled. My body language expressed my nervousness a little. I tripped over a few words, and squished the ending of my story a bit to get it done & overwith but I was still met with kind applause. Goodness. I might even convince myself to do it again next year. Maybe sooner, but we’ll see if/how opportunity presents itself. In the meantime, I gotta say a couple of things.
#1. Thanks so much to good friends for encouraging me to submit in the first place. Woot
#2. Thanks muchos muchos to my friends who showed up to cheer me on, even those of you who dressed in all black like euro-trash to embarass the dickens out of me.
#3. Thanks muchos muchos muchos muchos for my friends for *NOT* doing the wave or flashing those bright yellow signs that spelled out my name while sitting in the audience during my reading.
I think I would have died otherwise.
Part 2:
I cleared up my room a little bit. Loaned my old keyboard and a spare hard disk I had to Ze Photographer so he can start storing all his images on his computer. He’s got a ton of talent and that goes beyond not laughing at me and being patient over sunset therapy.
Part 3.
My dad made me cry today. I try to call Pops every weekend at least. Just to check in, tell him I love him, I’m alive, I’m eating etc etc. We usually don’t get into anything terribly heavy and his updates to me usually involve some reference to his golf handicap or the weather.
I told him I planned on taking the GMATs next sunday and getting my applications in order for Business School.
He turned it around on me and asked if I wanted to go to grad school for my writing and to teach.
Me: “What?”
Daddy: “Well, I was thinking… you were English major in college.. you like the writing. Maybe you should try go to school and teaching there.”
Me: “Really?”
Daddy: “Yah, I was thinking. You are happy when you writing. You have talent. So it’s your life.. If you’re happy, then I am ok.”
Me: “But Daddy, i thought you wanted me to go to business school and get a job doing something like that”
Daddy: “I never said that…”
Me: “But Daddy, there’s very little money in it. I mean grad school’s expensive and at least with an MBA I could get a pretty decent job…”
Daddy “It’s your life. You like writing. It’s ok. You try.
Me: “… ….Wow”
Daddy “I love you.”
Me: “I love you too, Daddy.”
I usually call my dad while driving. Our conversations are typically short enough that it’ll take me from the toll plaza to the Treasure Island tunnel heading from Oakland to SF. If it gets stressful I usually tell him I have to focus on changing lanes and click off. Today we just said goodbye after exchanging a few additional words and I clicked off.
30 seconds later I called back to say…
“Hey Daddy, I forgot to tell you, I read a story yesterday. It was in front of all these people, like 250 or so at that Bay Area Asian American writers and artists thing. Do you remember Daddy? When I was little and you brought me Mcdonalds to school? Daddy? Do you remember?
He sighed yes, slightly distracted.
“I read a story about that Daddy. “
“Oh that’s good.”
“Hey Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Nothing, I just love you.”