RIP, Scuttle.
"I'm kind of bummed out," my mom tells me over the phone tonight. I wasn't too concerned. My mom is bummed if they don't have her size at Ann Taylor. But this time she had reason to be bummed, and rightly sad. Our 13+ year old goldfish Scuttle had just died.
Scuttle is an institution at the Lee Household. He made so many people happy, from my 2-year old cousin to my 89-year old grandma. He weathered his share of storms, too. Within the first week of acquiring him at a carnival in downtown SF he was swimming sideways, and we were prepared to give him the flush. But he bounced right back, and from then we deemed him a special fish. He's survived the vicious stares of a hungry cat, and even an accidental out of water experience when he fell on the hardwood floor during a cleaning. What a fish.
This fish had personality. He had a way of greeting you when you entered the room, probably more so out of hunger than affection. He reminded you when he wasn't yet fed after the lights had already been turned out for the evening. Plink, plink, plunk was the sound as he sucked in the water at the surface of the bowl to make his presence known. Flick went the lights when we realized our mistake.
No, we haven't forgotten you, Scuttle.
"We eat fish all the time," said my mom over the phone tonight, "but Scuttle was special." He wasn't much bigger than an anchovy, and for one pet fish we are sure making a big deal. "He's graceful in death," proclaimed my mom. "He looks like he belongs in a science museum or something." I love my mom. I don't think a taxidermist would take interest, but for us who are grieving, he will sure be missed.
* Below: This was the last time I saw Scuttle before heading back to the Big D. He had been suffering from swim bladder disease for the past couple of months, causing him to swim upside down. He kept us entertained, even to the end.
I'm No Hitch.
One of my friends recently joined eharmony--"accidentally." I'm not sure how that really happens, but apparently a few curious clicks later they welcome you to the club. All of a sudden her dating life has taken off, with me adding my very unofficial quips to the side. She's doing the communication on her own, but once in a while she'll have me log into her account to check these guys out. Somehow it doesn't feel right to be logged in as her. But I feel a responsibility to help her since she's my friend and she asked. I can't get over the possibility that all these guys are creeps, even if they boast PhD's, MD's, and MBA's. Don't give me any flak about that. I know that plenty of genuine, outstanding people join. And if you're one such person, kudos.
I do know that it takes some amount of work to manage all the communication with these potential "matches," and that's a real turn-off for me. My friend accidentally addressed one of her messages to the wrong guy. Oops. And if there's a case for being set-up by friends as a better alternative, here it is. Don't read more into that than you should :)
Happy New Year.
It's like I never left. I don't intend any cynicism in that, but to say that I am happy to be back in the Big D, though being back means that I'm in class from 8-5 this week. But that's ok. This is part of the scheme to return as quickly as I can to the Golden State (plan is to be back sometime this summer).
The first day back from the airport I declared that we go to Chevrolet for gas. I knew it sounded off when it left my tongue. I'll blame being disoriented on that one. Those Southwest flights are cheap, but it totals something like 7 hours after 2 stops. So 3 rounds of drinks and 6 packs of honey roasted peanuts later I finally reach my destination. On another note, I really did have a good Christmas break, and a well-deserved one at that. I am officially "off" the holiday eating schedule (though I managed a Texas BBQ before officially declaring myself off). Time to hit the gym.
Flyin' High.
I love air travel. Maybe it's the underlying restlessness in me that loves to be on the move. I'm not one to stay still for too long without itching to go somewhere.
But there's something that I love about being home. And that's where I'm headed in a few hours! Here is how I left the city by the bay last month:
Who Wants a Cookie?
I'm still chillin' (literally) here in the Big D. I have one more final and then I'm done for the semester. At semester's end I've concluded that my brain needs a break. Lately I've been prone to slips such as "It's all snowboarding out of control." I suppose a picture of me on a snowboard would resemble the point I was trying to get across.
I take a final Wednesday and then get on a plane to go back to CA. Here is all my mind can comprehend of taking advantage of when I get back (from Specialty's):
These people are brilliant! Yum!
Christmas Miracle.
Grace is outrageous. I think I am only beginning to comprehend it. I have found clever ways to cheapen and distort it, destroying its potency. Yet there is grace still yet to be had.
To speak of being the recipient of grace is one, to give it away is another. My friend CW and I experienced the latter tonight (yet we could also argue the former?). Sloshing in the rain to cross the street from church we showed up Ed McMahon style with a huge gift basket along with a $1000 check for a neighboring family in need. This over-the-top gift was compiled through the generosity of others in the church who hadn't even met the couple. Now to receive grace one must be willing to accept it. And we weren't so sure that handing over a large check would seem like we pitied them after they had expressed to us no handouts. But we went ahead. After presenting the gift basket and watching their three kids eagerly examine its contents, CW went on to disclose that we had "one more thing" to give them, which led to her presenting the check with the amount. I waited for the reaction. The wife's eyes grew large as she covered her mouth in disbelief which made CW teary, and me a happy witness to it all. This was better than Oprah!
Our human efforts at grace are but a shadow of the Ultimate Grace of all. Imagine how different this makes your Christmas celebration.
What I Love.
I love Christmastime. I love the decorations, the music, the holiday cheer. Recently friends have caught on that I love lots of things. Mostly food. I love pie. I love dim sum. I love pho.
I think it's good that we feel to the passionate extreme of saying that we love something. I think this extends to when we say we love certain somebodies in our lives, too. It always intrigues me to hear what people love and who people love (and fall in love with). It says a lot about you.
When I say that I love something the inflection on the statement "I love..." is placed on the word "love." My eyes light up (as best as squinty eyes can), my passion clearly evident.
I do love more than just what is superficial and edible. Yet these things are harder to say with the same type of humor. But I'll just go ahead and say it. Because it says why Christmas is special for me: I love Jesus.
Have I Told You That I'm Funny
So if you have to prove that you're funny you're not really that funny. That might just disqualify this post. But I still want to talk about me being funny. One of the best compliments someone gave me when I was living overseas was that I was funny. Then I knew that I had really arrived in the culture because I could be funny in another language.
My brand of funny isn't so obvious. If you don't know me well enough I'm quiet and serious. Underneath though I'm a born comedian. Well, not really--but ask my family about my one-armed soldier routine.
It's funny how funny can look a little funny after you type it so many times in one post.
Heard it in Class.
Top 3 ways to prevent dementia:
1. Get higher education.
2. Read more.
3. Marry an intelligent spouse.
I have 2 of the 3. Would love to go 3 for 3 
.