Who Should Take the Notes?

Gotten used to playing the victim in the gender discrimination of the workplace here, and once you get stuck in that mindset, it will be IMPOSSIBLE for you to break free from it, and, you won’t be able to, reach your true potential, climbing that corporate ladder upward like you wanted to!  Translated…

I’d owned an engineering firm for thirty years in the U.S., there are, a ton of experiences worth my introspection over.  In the pursuit of my professional achievements, a different mindset, and choices, may lead you onto a, different, path.

The firm started growing, when it was still smaller scaled, hosting the meetings, listing the outlines, discussing the means to resolve with my employees, pushing forth with the plans, and, mailing the summaries of these meetings to the related individuals, I’d done it all, simple and easy, the goal was to solve the problems.  As my company expanded, there are now the assistants who prepared the meeting records, although, they’d done it in a more complete fashion, but I’d felt it to be, a bit, nitty gritty, that it’d, delayed us from getting down to work.  Most of the managers of my firm, are like me, took care of the outlines of the meetings themselves, quick and easy, not letting someone else do it.

the sense of success, achievement should be our own, NOT from the outside…photo from online

That year, Hsiang-En was hired as an assistant C.E.O. of our, small firm of a little over a hundred employees, his primary mission of work was to expand the market, increasing the chances of our firm’s winning the bids.  First time we had a sales meeting, he, from a larger firm, already used to having an assistant taking notes of the meetings for him, stated, “Ellen should take the notes.”, Ellen fell, silent, paused a few minute, then, with her face red, “Why should I be taking the notes?  Why are these task, all left to the women?”

Other than Hsiang-En who was there, the rest of the subordinates sitting in the meeting were all, women.  Ellen was higher up in position, and, on the meeting, she’d, led the way, challenged the new assistant, C.E.O.

I’d heard, that Hsiang-En, without another word, continued to host the meeting, and, did the outline himself, and, made a copy for me afterwards.  The incident sparked up the discussions, and, some of these female employees agreed with Ellen’s point of view, some felt, odd she would, act like so.

The meeting records by Hsiang-En was structured really well, organized completely, with a full set of data, which showed the depth of understanding that he had toward the industry, he is totally, a role model for, Ellen.  As he sat as the C.E.O., during those years, we’d won several bids for the major constructions, Ellen did NOT, have any input at all.  Don’t know if this has to do with the displease between the head and his subordinate?

workplace discrimination that’s still, intact currently, but it’s, reduced, somewhat…illustration from online

Later, Hsiang-En used another market research mediator, Michelle.  She’s very good at doing what she does, but, has a very, straightforward attitude, would often got into it with Hsiang-En on the proposals of the projects, and the tactics.  And, this sort of positive, on-key debate, it’d gotten us bigger chances to win the bids, unfortunately, after a few short years, Michelle decided to go and work for a larger firm, as she’d, accumulated a ton of experiences, and become fuller developed in her working skills, she was then, in charge of a proposal group.  While Ellen, never made anything of herself, left my firm, returned back to her former career path, as a, sales agent.

In the American society, women, minorities, or handicapped persons, ARE the lesser, there’s nothing wrong with being alert of what’s going on in the environment, but, there’s the need for the adjustments that come at the right time.  The empathy the society has for these groups of minorities, to the form of protection for the groups, this is NOT a guarantee that there would be no discrimination.  But, if the employees always saw themselves as victimized by the world, then, they may lose a lot of chances to learn, to change one’s own, current, situations.  Having an open mind, set your sights higher, actively participate, then, chances will present themselves to, you.

In Ellen’s negative attitude in her stubborn support for the minority, she’d neglected how to positively show herself, what she brought to the tables, which is the true asset of the individual, in the ladder to climb in the corporate, world.  I’d felt, that she’d lost the opportunity to learn from an excellent manager, which was a shame, and her turbulent path of work in my firm, showed, that.

So, this is on how we tend to, play the victim, because of our gender, our race, we felt, inferior, and, we express that outward, like this woman had, like the world isn’t fair to us, and, we are the ones, keeping ourselves from, advancing, because it’s this, stereotype of I’m a woman, I can’t make more than men can, that’s, keeping us from our reaching our higher achievements at work, and we do this, without ourselves knowing it too…

Spoiled the Men Rotten

Why we should NOT do EVERYTHING for the M-E-N we’re, MARRIED, to, because that spoiled them all, rotten, because they will all, become, overly, reliant on us, because they will, SUCK all of us DRY, because we allow them to!  Translated…

On the weekend holidays, I’d gone back to the midstrip of the island for a reunion, afterwards, my good friend gave me a lift home, on the way, she’s suddenly started up, “originally, my uncle had asked me to go to Northern Vietnam with him for eight days!”, I’d asked her, “then why aren’t you going?”, she’d skillfully worked the steering wheel, answered me, “because I’m worried that my husband would have to eat eight days’ worth of instant noodles straight, I can’t let him do that!”

I’d baldly told her that there was a way to resolve this, prepare eight different flavors of instant noodles for him, a different flavor a day, and, as he’d finished his last bowl, his wife would be, home, maybe, her husband would think that this was interesting, but, unfortunately, she’d not, taken, my advice.

and here’s the RESULT, of waiting on them hand and foot, the BIRTHS of ENORMOUS, BABIES, that can’t stand up on their own! Photo from online

For a very long time, my good friend who’s quite gentle, mild-mannered, took good care of her in-laws, when her father-in-law was in the hospital for his stay, she’d brought him the foods, fed them to him, assisted him in bathing, changing in and out of his clothes, solely because her husband worked, and she’d not wanted to burden him with the care of his own father, because camping out at the hospital was way too gruesome for him.  Although, she’d owned and operated a small manufacturing plant for the facial masks, she’d still made the meals for her families, she believed that it was within her responsibilities to do so.

And now, her in-laws are gone, the kids had all grown, she was no longer required to care for the young and the old in her families, but, because of her husband’s not being able to get the foods, it’d, kept her tied up at home, unable to travel away for a long period of time.

I’d told her in a, serious manner, “I’d read an article, that the wife in the article was too able-bodied, after she married, she’d given to her families completely, and even when she’d returned back to her own parents, she’d only stayed for the lunch, then, rushed back to her husband’s household, because she believed, that without her, her children and her husband couldn’t look after themselves.  Later, she’d died after falling ill, her good friend thought about her worries, and paid her husband and her children a visit; but, the house was, just as tidy as she’d left it, the kids were, fed nutritiously every meal, there was, also, a brand new, car in the garage, while her husband, was spirited, as he’d, welcomed her into their home.”

As she’d heard me, she’d started, laughing, actually, this wasn’t a joke at all, what’s untold that came afterwards, was that in a version, the husband hired a maid, in another, he’d remarried a younger, beautiful wife to take care of the house for him, it’s just, that the younger new wife, did NOT have to work her hands to the bones.

Women really need to love themselves well, and stop calling your husbands, “head of the house”, because if you do, then, you will always and forever get STUCK in being, their, MAIDS!”

My good friend told me, “but, my husband called me, “the master”, then, I’d said to her, “so, your husband is the eunuch character that stays and serve the empress dowager, and, the eunuch in these tales only need to keep the empress dowagers happy, there’s NO cases of the shows that’s portrayed the eunuchs for having to do the chores?”, after that, we’d both, burst out in laughter in the car.  “Then, what do you call your, husband?”, she’d inquired, of course I’d called him, “honey!”, because, my dear honey will always, cherish and love his own, wife, and fought over the household chores, wouldn’t feel right, if his dearly beloved wife, need to do the chores!

And so, this is, the case of two different women, and how they’d viewed serving the husbands differently, one, the friend is used to being, the MOMMY, the HOUSEHOLD MAID for her husband, due to socialization, the other, takes it easy from time to time, she’d done her share of the chores, but, leaving the rest to her husband to manage, after all, a marriage is a partnership, and if one of you does too much, then the other doesn’t need to do that much, and, if this unbalanced relationship keeps on going, the scale will one day, tilt and tip over, then, boom!  Heading for the BIG D…would be the end of that, unhappily ever, after.

So, STOP spoiling your men, don’t do ALL the chores around the house, and wait on them, hand and, feet!  After all, all those stupid men had already been, SPOILED ROTTEN by their mamas, and, if you, as their wives, keeps on, spoiling them rotten, then, you’d only be, slaving yourselves, and for what?  NOTHING!

My Father’s Giving to the Family

How this older generation of man, broke the gender barrier, and, started, doing the chores, to help his wife, make the household run, more, smoothly, because, the home is based off of the two adults, and, there should NOT be the sexist beliefs of, man work on the outside of home, and woman handle all the chores inside the home, this man broke the, gender barriers…translated…

My friend posted an article, “Self-Reliance” on his FB, I’d, chewed it over, repeatedly, and was, moved by his, words.

The cab he was riding on, there were two post-it notes next to the steering wheel, the seventy-year-old driver, felt, that he’s getting older, that he may forget to start the meter running, or that he may forget to signal when he changes lanes, he’d, written himself these, reminders.  My friend asked him about the efficacy, he’d told, that it’d, worked, wonderfully, “we can’t trouble ourselves with money, the kids are all grown now, with their own, lives, we can’t make it hard on them, we need to, rely on, our own, selves!”

My friend found this driver’s actions quite touching, that he was inspired by the driver, that he’s a role model.  I deeply, agreed to this, like the, barely, noticeable dying lights in the city, it’d, warmed us up.  In his seventies, he’s still, working hard to make a living, truly, amazing.

doing his share, because women aren’t responsible for the household chores, automatically…photo from online

I’d recalled my own father.  He retired from his work as a hotel staff, he was a small manager when he’d retired.  He’d felt awful about his coworkers working the graveyard, and put himself to work the time slot.  And, every day, he’d, always waved goodnight to us, when we’re about, to turn in.  There aren’t that many employees staffed during the graveyard shifts, he’d had to, do everything himself, that’s how my father became, so, handy, the only thing he couldn’t operate were the computer and the credit card machines, and would often made fun of how unagile he was, that he wasn’t fitted for these, fine motor skills, that he should leave the desk jobs to the younger generations to, do.

And yet, after time, my father worried that he might bring trouble to his, coworkers, at the year my youngest sister graduated from university, he’d filed for retirement.  At the time, my mother still worked as an operator at the factory, and would often turn our living room into her, workshop; my father started, doing these, work that he wasn’t, good at, along with, most of the, household, chores—my mother would write out her menu, had my father shop at the marketplace himself; and after he’d returned, he would then, sort out the items he’d bought, for my mother to, make the, dishes.  During that time when all hands were, on deck, my father would, overwork himself, and complained from time to time, but he’d also shown, how much he cared for our, families with his, actions too.

The parents are all the same in the world, their hearts of giving endlessly to their own young, may not be mentionable, but, this tiny constantly giving to the household, it’s what, helped, these homes, build up strong.

And so, this is how the father, started doing the household chores, because everybody is, working, and, there’s no I work outside the home, when I come home, I’m on break, because, there’s always endless number of chores that needed to handle in the homes, and so, this man, chose to, chip in, to make his own family, run smoothly.

The Wishes of the Kite

How this woman burned herself out, for the sake of caring for her, family, so her younger siblings can go and chase the dreams that they have, and she couldn’t, because she bore the responsibilities of caring for their, parents…translated…

Thumbing through the Letters We’d Written to and From, My Eldest Sister and I, I Couldn’t Help, But, Get, Teary Eyed………

The singer, Jody Chiang and her sister, Nana Chiang did a duet together, “The Wishes of Wind”, the melody was upbeat, described the love and connection of sisters, I’d sung it with my eldest sister from before, on the year after her diagnosis.  After that, I’d sung the song alone, and I couldn’t keep my voice steady ever since…………

You’d Held on the String  

When there’s Wind, Quietly

Handed the Other End to Me

I Don’t Feel So Lonely When I Hold the Line Do You Know

My Heart

The kite that’s no longer connected to the string, she, who’d, fallen to the other end of the world, is she, all, right?’

My Eldest Sister Cried Like Hell, and I’d Not Known How to Offer Her My Console

Recently, I’d started, sorting through my already cramped up mailbox, and thumbed across the letters I’d exchanged with my eldest sister, and the sorrows, they came, surfacing, back up again.  My eldest sister had gone for seven years now, but every time I’d recalled her, I’d still felt very sad.  Thought of the reason, and it was because I’d never told her a proper, goodbye, to face the truth of how I’d felt about her in my heart, and she’d, rarely, told me things that mattered to her the most, there were, a ton of things we’d left, unsaid, toward, one, another.

Thumbing through those childhood photos, she was tall, with round eyes, oval shaped face, with the dimples when she smiled.  In elementary, she was excellent in school, took care of us, was my parents’ helper.  We’d ridden the bikes to school by the days, and did our homework together afterwards, then, she’d taken us to the local temple to play on that vacant lot.  And yet, in middle school, she’d started, falling behind in schoolwork, and my mother who’d cared too much about the grades, started, pushing us too hard, to the point, that we can only, keep our own heads in our separate, schoolwork, and not managed to keep interacting with one another.  As she’d gone into community college, she’d fallen silent even more, and, she’d become, more distracted to focus on her schoolwork, as I shared the desk to study with he, I saw her sitting in front of the mirror, brushing her hair, twirling her pen, like there was something she was, thinking about, and she’d stayed on that same page of text for a long, long time.

One year on New Year’s Eve, my eldest sister was beaten hard by mom, because she was caught to have the love letters of exchanges with her boyfriend by her.  My eldest sister became completely broken down, deep in the nights, I’d not known how to offer her comfort, pretended to be asleep, and I saw her, sucking in the air, and tearing pages off.  Then, I’d noted, how there was, a tiny burn on her hand, that must’ve been a heart-wrenching decision she’d made—seemingly, it was against the house rules, and  rebellious, but in the end, she’d longed for my mother to accept her as who she was.

illustration from UDN.com

I’d shared a bed with her, it wasn’t big, we both fought for the side closer to the door, and mom made the rules of whoever goes to sleep, sleep on the inside, and every time, I was the one, sleeping on the outside.  The mosquitoes would attack at night, we’d hung up the mosquito nets before bedtime, and the one who goes to bed first did it; mom told her, to keep up with it, that after her entrance exams, it would be my turn to hang up the mosquito nets then.  Many years later, I’d heard my mother told of how my eldest sister had complained, that I’d gone to Taipei to study, leaving her with the tasks of having to hang up the mosquito nets all by her, self………

I’m so sorry, my eldest sister, I’d not, kept true to my, promises to you.

Relieved of the Heavy Burdens of Life, Becoming that Free-to-Fly as-High as She Wanted to Kite

After community college, my eldest sister found work close to home, married and had children, my brother-in-law worked away, and didn’t come home until the weekends, and my eldest sister had, stayed with my parents, to care for each other.  My two younger brothers and I, we’d all gone off to study, to work, to marry and to live up north, so, the responsibility of caring for our aging parents, landed on my, eldest sister alone, she’d had to take them to the doctors, to help them pick up their meds, to get them their shots at the hospitals and the clinics on her own.

My eldest sister’s daughter had learning difficulties, couldn’t care for herself, her son, often got into it with my brother-in-law, she’s at work, and after work, she didn’t get her needed, rest.  One year, my father had a myocardial infarction, and my eldest sister rode the ambulance with him to the I.C.U. and started having the panic disorder.  We started, taking shifts, coming home to care for mom then, to try to relieve the stress for my eldest sister, but the accumulated stresses over the years, it’d caused her to fall ill, and by the time she was diagnosed, she was already, terminal.

My eldest sister always envied me, because I’d left home, and could fly free as a kite, and envied her friends who’d gone out often to eat together, to gather with each other.  At the time, that was when I’d learned, that she’d not made any friends with whom she could, talk with back home, and although I’d, told her to make some friends, to go to the classes to pass her time, but she’d only sighed that it wasn’t, easy for her to.  Sometimes, she’d called me up, asked what I was doing, I’d felt ashamed, and not posted my photos with my friends on outings on FB, fearing she might see.

My eldest sister was the one that my mother relied the most on, since dad passed, my younger brother and I had thought of bringing mom up to Taipei to look after her, but she’d refused us, told us, that she had our eldest looking after her, and that was, enough, my eldest sister laughed bitterly, “Woe is me!”, and so, we can only, hire a foreign nurse’s aide to help my eldest sister out.  As she fell ill, we’d worried that our mother might know, which will add to her stress level, so we’d lied that she was here in Taipei to train for a few days when she’d come up for her chemotherapy treatments.  Later, I’d had the problems of dysautonomia, my eldest sister couldn’t understand how, how can I be anxious when I’d had nothing, to worry about?  She’d sighed and told me to take it easy.  She didn’t know, that every time I’d thought about her, I’d wanted to, cry for her, not wanting her to die soon, and at the same time, I’d worried, that my mother would have the problems, coping with her eldest daughter, dying, before her…………

And finally came the time, the day before she was going into the hospice, she’d called me up from the south, and told me that she’d felt, so taken, and all I could do was, listen as calmly as I could, and held back my own tears for her.  The following afternoon, I’d caught the speed train back home, listened to her talk, sitting in the wheelchair, as the sun slowly set in the west, the red colors of the dusk splashed onto the roof outside, and that, was the last sight we’d ever, shared, together.

You are a Kite that Flew to & From

Like the Birds, So Happy, Flying Free with the Wind

After the Buddhist verses for the dead had been recited, in a nap, my eldest sister came to visit me, dressed in white lace shirt and red vest dress, she’d hugged me tight, told me she’s doing fine now, then, turned around, disappeared.  This dream gave me the closure I’d needed, she knew I still worried about her, and wanted to let me know, that she’d, let go of the burdens she’d carried in this life, she’s now that kite that’s, flown away far, high, and free.

And that heart of how much I’d still missed her became that string that’s tied to the kite.  What my eldest sister gave to the family, I can’t, pay her back for, and I’d felt ashamed, paled by comparison.  She’d burned her life out, to turn herself into the light that ignited us, her, siblings.

And so, you have this woman, who’d given EVERYTHING to her family, and ended up dying of cancer, and, maybe it’s how hard the burdens of the care of her parents had been, that it’d made her not paid enough attention to her health, but she’d left that huge mark inside of her younger siblings’ lives.

If We Don’t Accept the Dyadic Division of Gender, Are We, No Longer, Women?

There’s, another S-E-X to be, considered here, and it’s called, ANDROGYNY!!!  Off of the Front Page Sections, translated…

I am NOT a Woman Who Follows Her Gender Role

I’d recently gone to a seminar on psychological health and violence against gender, as I’d filled out the forms, on the “Gender” column, there were, three “options: “Female”, “Male”, and, “Other” (meaning, biologically and psychologically being the same, which was opposite of, transgendered), so I’d, selected “other”.  Yep, I’m a woman, but, I’m, NOT “female”, didn’t I get involved in the women’s movements, to BREAK the frames of gender?  And, would I not be feminine, if I don’t, fit into, the “categories”?

The feminism belief is against the masculinities and the femininities, the dyadic division of being either female or, male, because this is too simplistic.  One of the goal of women’s movement is to give a wider choice of selections to all men, and all, women.  Then, the dyadic of separating people into woman (or man), wouldn’t that be, fitting to the physical attributes only, and this is, with its, sets of, flaws too.

Practically however, from the more traditional frames of gender, there were the supporters of the divisions of some of the transpeople, some of the trans women are fitted in more with what the traditional culture defined women as, and they hoped to be, accepted by the society, as, “real” women.  And, not all of the un-transwomen are necessarily open to this, and kept wanted to break through this or turn it over, otherwise, why would there be the ongoing women’s movements that came in time?  Most of whom who’d participated in women’s rights movements, who’d supported the causes are, women, there are, a few handfuls of, men too, and they’re all, not fitting to the traditional gender roles.  And, from this angle, the transwomen are, the obedient, and those who are not, aren’t, belonging to the gender categories based off of the biological makeup, then, the dyadic of trans or not trans, would become, meaningless, and it should NOT be one of the choices to consider, in our, personal, identities.

the colors of the “flag” of this group of people labeled as “gender-queer”…found online

As the two primary choices of “gender” is either/or, male/female, it’s actually, a continuation of the binary divisions of the sexes, and it’d, minimized the uniqueness of the individual man, and individual, woman, thus, narrowing the meaning of, “gender”.  In this means, all men and women are, assigned to one, specific, seemingly self-aware, frame, and yet, this sort of a classification didn’t get debated through public interactions and definition, it’s not based off of consensus, at most, it’s only, vague, subjective, and narrow, not only does it have ANY statistical meaningful, purposes, and, it’d caused us to not know, that we have, the choice of, “other”, I’m certain, that most of the women who are, independently thinking, behaving, are in, THIS, particular, “classification category”.

Cisgender is an alternative “choice of sex” that some of the transgendered people in the community created to avoid being border-lined.  Dividing the sexes into either/or, seemed to be fair, but, it had, neglected to know, all those who are, neither, nor aside from these, two.  And, for some of the transgendered women, trans is only a process of getting through the obstacle course, with the goals of, becoming, the other, sex, what they wanted to break through, is not being women, or not being, women, but, females.

By this, we should, extend what defines us into woman, or female, to extend to the tolerance of the sex of female gender, instead of, getting away from it.

And so, this is the discussions on the biological attributes versus the psychological makeup, and sometimes, these are, not in line with each other, there are, a ton of women or men in the world right now, who are born as male or female, but identified themselves with the opposite sex, and, based off of this either/or, what would they, file themselves, under, what would the society, “file” them under, and, isn’t personal development into, W-H-O we are on the inside, more, important, than all of our, physical attributes added up together?  What’s important is WHO we are on the inside, and yet, this world gets, trapped by what we all, appeared as, and we have the tendencies, to define ourselves, and those whom we encounter, based off of, this belief systems, and that has to, change!

Does that, Make ME, L-E-S-S, of a, Woman???

In this current world, when now, there are, a total of, FIVE (is that right???  As I’d, “counted” them…) different means of, “classifying”, “categorizing”, people…

Does that, make ME, L-E-S-S, of a woman, because in my work, I have to, dominate everybody in the board room, because I’m the C.E.O. of my company, because I’m, assertive (that’s, a classified “male” trait, isn’t it???), because I’m, problem-solving oriented (that’s also, male too, right???), and my company of, 5,000 workers are, relying on me, to keep this big “machine” functional.  Does that make me, LESS of a, woman???

Does it, make me, L-E-S-S of a woman, if I’d had a mastectomy due to my breast cancer, because I was, “blessed” with the disease, and in order to keep my self alive, that’s, what I’d had to do, to be, without, my physical attributes of what MAKES me, into, a woman in form?

Does it, make me, L-E-S-S, of a woman, if I’d been sexually assaulted, because it’s my fault, because I shouldn’t dress the way I had, or because of my job of working to sell my body, I deserve to get, RAPED, is that it?

Does it, make me, L-E-S-S, of a woman, if I can’t have babies, because although I want to, but my body just, wasn’t, built that way, for me to, carry?  Does it, make me, L-E-S-S, of a woman, if I am, holding up the weight of the WORLD on my shoulders, because I CHOOSE, career, OVER my family?

Does it, make me, L-E-S-S, of a woman, just because you took advantage of me, grabbed my large TITS, and I’d, ALLOWED you to?

Of course NOT, for I will, NEVER, be DEFINED by my PHYSCIAL attributes, my form, my shape, my size, and I’m still SUPER SIZED too here!

Does it, make me, LESS than a woman, IF I have to, listen to all your, bullshit of what a woman’s supposed to be, and I don’t follow those, “rules” you set for me?

Nope, that just, makes me, MORE MANLY, than ANY of you, sons-of-bitches (not the literal ones!), mother @#$%ERS (out of “swears” here!) out there.

And yeah, still a full-blown, full-GROWN, tough as hell B-R-O-A-D (and, none of you had better call me that, ‘cuz I’m still the ONLY one on this PLANET who’s allowed to use the “derogatory” “sexist” remarks to, refer to, the QUEEN, and yep, I’m still that too!

As His Wife Became, His, Mama!

Yeah uh, what the, FUCK! (don’t pardon me here!!!)…

As his wife became, his, mama, she got her work, cut out for her, she’s now, caring for her own twin children (yep!), and also, she needed to breastfeed her man, because he’s hungry, for that, suckle, and on top of that, she’s out of maternity leave, back to, work.

And, she’s cleaning up after everything that’s in the house, the dogs barking at the lightest knock on the door, and she’d needed to, rush to take them outside, because, she does NOT want to have those, puddles of PISS that they’d made, to wipe up!

and she’s, doing this, 24/7! As, every moment IS, the STRUCK of, midnight! Photo from online

Cooking, cleaning, NURSING, because her baby’s still on her TITS, not to, mention her M-A-N too!  And on top of that, she still works, outside of the “hearth” too, she’s conducting them, board meetings, doing those, business negotiations (can you push that meeting back an hour?  I need to go to the restrooms, hadn’t gone since I’d come in, this morn!).

As his wife became his mama, he’d needed her to come at his, beck and call, with absolutely NO clue, that she had more than enough, on her plate too, and now, a SEX scandal too?  Wow, how’s she, gonna, manage, that?  Oh yeah, with that wet one, wiping up his, sorry A-S-S.

and this is, how much, all of us, women have, on our “plates”, currently! and, shapeshifting into an OCTOPUS still won’t help enough! Illustration from online

Because that, is a woman’s duty, responsibilities, to mother the man she’s, married to, because, that’s how she’d, watched her own mother, wiping UP her own, FUCKED up, whoring father’s, every last, affair, and still, stood beside him, at those, office functions, dressed up to the nines, to make herself, presentable, because she doesn’t want to, make him feel, ashamed of her, as his, M-O-T-H-E-R, or, was she, his wife, after the clock struck, TWELVE here???

And, the “magic” still, wore OFF, as that resonating, I~~~D~~~O, still, echoed………….

Leftovers

This is the FATES, of traditional Asian women, despite how the times had, already, advanced into, the modern day, where the emphasis is more on gender equality, but a lot of us women, are still, bound by these, traditional, gender stereotypes of how the female roles should be played out, and we get, trapped by it!  Translated…

After I’d started living on my own, the most annoying thing in my life is, the, leftovers.  This, seemingly nitty-gritty item, but needed to sort through by the meals “business”, often taxed up my mind, although, this is no huge thing like the philosophers are contemplating on, just the traces that remained of my three square meals per day, but it’d, gotten really deep inside, and annoyed, the hell out of, me.  The timelines of life, there must be, close to half of the total time, spending, on how to resolve the matters of, the, leftovers, do we, reheat them up for the meals later, do we, “mask” them up as the lunches of love packed by us to serve to our significant, others?  Or do we, bring them to the office, to SHOW off how we are, cared for?  Or, should we just, toss them away?  Reminding ourselves, to separate the leftovers, to take them out by the curbside on trash collection day, to NOT allow it to start stanching up our, ordinary, days.

Leftover, the remains of our, lives, but it’d, deeply, affected the aesthetic of our lives.

When I was young, I’d not needed to worry about this problem.  Served onto the tables, were all the items that gave us that incredible appetite, the heated up food.  There were, too many choices, given to our chopsticks, raising up in midair, and, in time, we are, still, considering what we wanted to eat, the difficulties on our tongues, that was, patented to our, childhood, years.

During the time, I’d not remember the exact time when my mother served us our, meals, for the kids who’d, stolen out after they were fed to play, they’d not even, considered what the leftovers, looked, like?  Could the “leftovers” became a pronoun for our, mothers?  My oldest cousin said he’d hated the stir-fried cabbages, too simple; my youngest female cousin hated the seaweed soup, that it was too tasteless.  And so, what was favored by all, the more popular dishes, the pork, the chicken, the shrimps, the steamed eggs, were cleaned off the plates in a jiffy, as for those unfavored steamed, less flavored items, had become, frozen, into, a sort of, an animosity, while my mother became the sin bearer of these, and as everybody goes off, she’d, sat, under the dimmed lights, and, started, eating, those, leftovers.

illustration from UDN.com

I’d gotten a call from my mother at night, toward the adult children, there are, always, the silence that got lost in time in these calls, on the other end of the world, came the asking of how the weather was, and I’d always, slurred to answer her.  After a while, I’d remembered, finally, that my aging mother, toward the cold sounds of the echoes of my responses, must be like, how she used to, eat those, leftovers that we didn’t, finish in our, younger, years too?

On the other end of the world, she’d reminded me, “just toss out the leftover, and don’t eat it, it’s not good to eat them reheated up over, over, and over again.”

But, how much left do we, thrown out?  And, it’d become, hard for me, to weigh and measure this.

Perhaps, half a bowl, that already, mixed to, nothing but chaos inside that served bowl of, rice?  Or, the too savory, too spicy sauce that still had, a-third portion remaining, with the leftover chopped up stems leafy greens; or, must we, finish the plates up, only left the traces of the, pork flosses?  These three meals a day, before we pour them out, as we’re about to, push them into the refrigerators, I’d always, thought again, and gain, and, my mind goes back and forth, back and forth, trapped in tossing them away, or saving them, don’t know how much that’s leftover, that’s, worthy for the world to, keep?  And, how much of what’s remained, should get tossed out, matter-of-factly?  I’d had to, consider this, many times a day, and, felt confused for my mother, who’d been, trapped inside the, vicious cycle, how did she, get along, well with all the leftovers we’d given to her?  In the long road of life, with nothing but the leftovers, taking up her life, the time for recycling the foods, the reheating up the dishes, constantly, back and forth, thinking about, time, and life rushed by her, side as moments like these came and, went.

Leftover became a sort of a fate, teaching the older generations of women, to wait on, endlessly.  When she was younger, she’d lived for her parents; after she was married, she’d lived for her children.  As she aged to elderly, that richness of her life already, gotten, taken out of hers, she’d become, nothing more, than the leftover of who she had been, that’s, remained, as she’d become, the leftovers of fate, in between heating and throwing out, she’d already, forgotten, her original, flavors already.

and unfortunately, they’re not the least, “neatly plated” like, these…photo from online

And this is actually not about the leftovers the family had for their meals, but the fate of traditional Asian women, and although, the traditions are slowly, less and less imposing on the younger generations but, there are still, the gender expectations that imposes themselves onto us, women, how we should give up everything we want, for the sake of our, families, this is still, the primary values that’s rooted too deep in the Asian cultures, which is why, women in these parts of the world, are fated to take on the, leftovers of everybody else’s, life.

Visiting My Mother-in-Law’s by Myself

The women burdened by the societal expectations of what it means to be a daughter-in-law, and this is still nowhere NEAR changing, anytime soon!  Translated…

Been married nine years to date, because my husband works out of country, every holidays, every New Year’s, I’m the only one in Taiwan, and I’d gone to my in-laws alone by myself often.

My in-laws told, that they wanted to see me more often, I’d known, that it’s my responsibilities to show more care and concerns for them, but, my husband not being in the country, it’d made me feel, a bit, pressured.  For about four years on New Year’s, I’d gone to my in-laws on my own.  No need to help with the meal preps, no need to even lift a single finger, I was fed well, and lived comfortable in their home, but I’d still wanted to run from this, “seemingly mine, but doesn’t quite feel like mine”, space.  I’d started asking why I’d felt like so.

Thinking on it more closely, maybe, it’s my loneliness working, the double dose of it—on the one hand, it’s the loneliness of separating from my husband, another, the loneliness of facing this expectation, this responsibility I suppose.

My in-laws, who are related to my husband, but, the link between me and my in-laws wasn’t, present at all, and I can’t feel comfortable enough, getting along with my in-laws the way I would with my friends either, even if my in-laws are very kind and gentle toward me, they’re very open too, but, I’m sure, both they, and I still expect me, to act more according to what a daughter-in-law should behave as.

My friend once told me, the long-distance/the dual-life couples are becoming the norm of society now, and there are the doing away with the traditions.  I can understand what her words, meant, and knew, that there may be a lot of others like me, who other than needing to cope with the long-term physical separation from their spouses, and also have to face with being companions with one’s own spouse’s families, and all of these feelings, all of these things aren’t, easily, managed at all.

So, this is how you feel, caught, because you are married into your husband’s family, and around the holidays, he works away, and can’t make it home, and you feel that obligation to stay with your in-laws, and this is still from the expectations of us women, in our roles as daughters-in-law, that’s from tradition, and although the in-laws may be more opened these days, you still can’t help but feel the pressures, because it’s the cultural expectations, of how women should put their own husbands’ families, first, before their own.

You Only Want What’s Superficial

You only want what’s superficial, and yeah, I can, certainly give you that, but why the FUCK will I, huh?  I know I am MORE, than what I have on the surfaces, I am, a woman, of DEPTH, and got NO need to, paint that dumb-blonde bimbo look on my face, just to, satisfy your needs (and dudes, don’t EVEN!)…

You only want what’s superficial, what’s no more than the eyes perceive, well, I’ll give you that, in my hourglass figure, my long skinny legs, oh, would you like me to give you a striptease too, huh?

Yeah, I’ll strip all right, oh wait I am, already, a WORLD RENOWNED, STRIPPER here, and the only thing I will EVER be “stripping” would be, my @#$%ING (maxed out already!) M-I-N-D.

and this, would be, what’s, ideal for all you, mother @#$%ERS, right??? Photo from online

So yeah, you all can just, SHOVE your superficialities, all your god damn NEEDS, up your own separate sorry, ASSES there, ‘k???

Note: this is still just ME, “bitching” ‘bout, stuff, this is still NOT directed toward anybody out there, okay???

You only want what’s superficial, and surely, I can be, as superficial as you need me to be, but I still have MORE depth, and I will REFUSE to STOOP down to any of your lowered levels of brain activities!

This is still NOT the QUEEN (moi!!!), insulting anyone, but feel free to see it as that, if you wish to, and send me a “complaint”, why don’t ya???