Sometimes My Face + Hair Color Confuses People

This is me:

I usually draw myself like this:

But a more accurate drawing would be like this:

I get asked all the time if I dye my hair.

Nope.

This mousy brown hair color is all my own.

Although yesterday, my coworker called it chocolaty brown.

I like that.

I've also been asked a couple of times if I'm mixed.

Again, nope.

Fully Chinese.

The questions amuse me though.

And it reminds me of how monolithic some people are in their perceptions of what Chinese people look like.

So, let me show you my family.

This is my mom, her hair is light like mine:

My aunt, my mom's younger sister, has hair the lightest of us all.

People just skip the hair dyeing question and automatically go straight to asking her what shade she uses.

It's au naturel, people.

This is my cousin, my dad's sister's son:

He has ridiculously curly hair. So much so, that he keeps it shorn close to his head or he'd be growing a poof. And no, he's not mixed.

These are all my male cousins.

Besides the babies, they are ALL taller than me.

Okay, that's not saying much. I'm 5'4". I'm the shortest grandchild on both sides of the family. Woe is me.

But, more than half of the boys are near six feet or over. I think my tallest cousin is 6'3".

It certainly feels like it when I try to look up at him.

And here are all the female cousins in the family, including me.

Oops, almost forgot the littlest one!

We all look very different from one another.

Though you can't tell from my drawings because I suck at drawing.

My sister and cousin have what the Chinese call perfect oval faces. It's the epitome of East Asian beauty. And big eyes. All four of them possess that feature.

I have to say, 'cause I'm not biased or anything, I have a stunningly beautiful family.

Just a little snapshot of what my Chinese family looks like.

If they were bad cartoon renditions of themselves.

Ha.

Tim's Wallet and Onions

I was going through my Facebook memories the other day and found this gem by my cousin, Timothy.

He posted it as his FB status a couple of years ago and it's feeling very apropos of my life right now.

Tears of joy, that is.

So many Benjamins.

Ha.

I wish.

It's My Birthday!!

Today's Friday the 13th.

That means it's my birthday!

These are my bgirls.

Happy Birthday, Janice!!

A photo posted by @kait_e_k on Nov 11, 2015 at 7:26pm PST

I love them so.

Since I couldn't celebrate with them on the day of (because my family is throwing me a party) or on the weekend (because we're celebrating my cousin's birthday on Saturday...there are a lot of birthdays this time of year in my family), we decided to hang a couple of days before.

We went to karaoke.

What I really wanted to do was bungee-jump.

Because I've decided that this year is going to be my year of terrifying pursuits.

But karaoke seemed the more plausible option to propose to my friends for a get-together.

And, to make it more palatable to me, I suggested Disney karaoke.

But, this is what happened instead:

Bgirls can sing, too. @kait_e_k #talented #karaoke #bgirls #NYC

A video posted by yang janice (@yang.janice) on Nov 11, 2015 at 3:59pm PST

@goody_roc making love to me. With her voice. #karaoke #boyziimen #bgirls #NYC

A video posted by yang janice (@yang.janice) on Nov 11, 2015 at 3:52pm PST

I had a blast.

Then we went out for burgers -- 'cause that's our tradition -- afterwards, where we took approximately 6,982 selfies to try and get one acceptable picture. The evidence is above.

Today, so far, for my birthday, my family has given me:

The task to pick up my own birthday cake after work.

Thanks, Family.

My dad also texted me at 2:50 in the morning.

My sister texted me at 1:23 in the morning.

I am not sure what it says about my fam that they text me birthday wishes when they know I'LL BE ASLEEP.

Granted, my sister is in California. She probably forgot to do the math.

Or, did they want me to wake up pleasantly surprised?

This was the text my dad sent me:

("Precious daughter,
during the quiet, early morning of this long night, I whisper to you:
Happy Birthday!")

To which, I replied:

And, this is what my dad wrote back:

Okay?

Okay, Dad?

Okay.

Haha.

I love my family.

And friends.

I'm a lucky girl.

[TBT] My Mama Hearts Chipotle. Hardcore.

This throwback post would be more appropriate if it was in March but my heart smiled inside when I read it again so I'm sharing it with you all today.

I love my mama.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012
My Mama Hearts Chipotle. Hardcore.

Today is my mama's birthday.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOM!!!

We celebrated it over the weekend.

But first, let me tell you how we celebrated it last year:

Me: Where do you want to go for your birthday dinner, Mom?
Mom: Chipotle.
Me: Mom, that's like going to McDonald's, we can't do that for your birthday. Don't you want to go somewhere fancy?
Mom: But I really like Chipotle.

And so we went to Chipotle to celebrate. And my mama was happy.

This year, we celebrated it like this:

Me: Mom, what do you want to do?
Mom: Let's go to Ikea.
Me: Um, why?
Mom: I want to buy a mirror.
Me: You want to go all the way to Ikea for that?

(Ikea is a 40 minute drive from my mom's house. Target and Home Depot are both less than 10 minutes away and I'm sure both of those places have mirrors.)

Mom: How much was the mirror you wanted at Ikea the last time we were there?
Me: Mom, that was months and months ago, I don't remember.
Mom: You want to come over so we can go to Ikea?
Me: Okay, fine.

So we head to Ikea and after we're done mirror-buying at Ikea, this is what happens:

Mom: So, what do you want to eat for dinner?
Me: Anything you want, it's your birthday.
Mom: Want to go to that place across the street from Ikea?
Me: You mean Chipotle, don't you? You want to go to Chipotle, don't you?

And my mom smiles sheepishly in response.

Oh, Chipotle, you have stolen my mom's foodie heart.

When my mama says "Let's go to Ikea," it's really code for "I want to eat Chipotle."

Dad and Crashed Cars

My papa. An old drawing from the days of Monkey Whimsy.

My first (and only) car was a black Honda Civic that I shared with my sister.

After we graduated college and my sister moved across the country, the Honda became solely mine.

And I loved it.

That little car gave me a sense of freedom like no other.

But, after racking up about a thousand dollars worth of speeding tickets in the span of a month, I decided that my speeding car habit was getting kind of expensive so I gave the Honda to my dad.

Recently, my dad called me frantically to give me some news.

Dad: Janice, your car is gone.

Janice: What do you mean?

Dad: I was leaving work, I was tired and there was a lot of traffic on the highway. The car in front of me braked suddenly and I couldn't stop in time. I crashed into the car in front of me and ruined your car.

Janice: WHAT!! DAD, are you okay?!!

Dad: Yeah, but your car is not.

Janice: Dad, I don't care about my car, are you okay?

Dad: I'm sorry about your car.

Janice: Dad, did you go to the hospital?

Dad: No, I'm fine. Your car couldn't be saved though.

Janice: DAD, when it comes to YOU or my car, I couldn't care less about the damn car. Are you sure you're okay, no injuries? 100% OKAY?

Dad: Oh yeah yeah, I'm fine. The entire front half of your car was destroyed and unsalvageable.

Janice (giving up on steering the conversation back to my papa): That's okay, Dad.

Dad: Just wanted to tell you that the Honda is no more.

DAD, JUST GLAD YOU GOT OUT OF THE ACCIDENT UNSCATHED.

My dad clearly thought my Honda was a member of the family the way he broke the news to me.

Oh, Dad.

I do miss my bat mobile though.

It was good while it lasted.

Sundays with Dad + Station LIC

This is my dad.

Before I told him to stop making his serious face.

At least it wasn't his duck face.

My dad likes to make duck lips when he poses for pictures.

I have no idea why.

Maybe it's his inner teen.

That's more like it, Dad!

My papa is a hoot.

And if you meet him, you'd think so, too.

When I was in college, all my friends loved him and when he came up to visit me, he'd take all my friends out.

That's probably why they loved him.

We'd go to Bertucci's in town and take over their long table because there'd be more than 10 of us.

Wow, I had a lot of friends back then.

Now I'm a hermit.

My dad, though, is not.

He's really sociable and charming and funny.

I think my sister got all those genes.

Dammit.

Anyway, my dad and I have been eating our way through Long Island City on Sundays.

So, over Labor Day Weekend, we went to Station LIC, a cool little bar restaurant that I'd gone to with my friends a couple of weeks before.

I enjoyed it so much that I decided to take my dad there.

The space is cozy and there are huge windows on two sides of the restaurant so that light, wonderful light streams in during the day time.

And, because the windows are treated, you get all that light without losing your privacy. I love it!

Fun fact: This bar is the same space where Tom Cruise's 1988 movie Cocktail was shot.

No Tom Cruise but the bar is just as enticing.

Now, onto the food!

My dad had the salmon on risotto:

Isn't it pretty?

I flirted with the idea of getting the Ponzi Burger again since it was so yummy the last time I had it with my friends:

But, I had a craving for something more decadent.

And, boy was it good.

The Cubano Mac n' Cheese is creamy, without being overpowering, and has chunks of pork and ham in it.

Yummmmm, is all I can say.

I asked my dad about his salmon.

He said it was good but the portion was too small.

Then he preceded to tell me how he went to Red Lobster with my aunt and cousin out in Long Island last week.

And, the salmon was bigger there.

Much better in his opinion.

Oh, Dad.

Bigger does not always mean better.

Well.

Anyway, during the outing with my friends, one of them had the Round Trip Chicken and another ordered the Chicken Pot Pie. Both gave me positive verdicts so I might just have to go back to Station to try them! I know I definitely want to try their brunch.

I enjoyed Station very much and I highly recommend it if you're ever in Long Island City. Just hop on the 7 train and get off at Vernon Blvd.-Jackson Ave. The restaurant is right next to the train station.

Literally.

Shelley vs Shilly

Last Sunday, when my mom and I were driving to Long Island for my cousin's birthday party:

 Mom, you spelled Aunt Shelley's name wrong.

Oh yeah, I used an i instead of an e. 

You also forgot the second e.

差 不 多 (chà bù duō = close enough).

HAHAHA.

My mom cracks me up so much sometimes.

She knows how to spell my aunt's name and yet, it's Shilly in her phone.

I should check to see how my mom saves my name on her phone.

[TBT] Things that remind me of my childhood

Continuing my nostalgic run of old blog posts for TBT, today I share with you a post from my "childhood."

Sunday, August 21, 2011
Things that remind me of my childhood

Racing my cart-sitting sister pell-mell down the aisles of Ikea + causing patrons to turn their heads at the ruckus.

Oh wait, that was yesterday.

Here sits the lazy-butt that is my sister.

The flip-flop wearing feet belong to my momz. I'm surprised she didn't yell at us when I barreled down the aisles with my sister. There was one little boy who was watching what we were doing (we're such good models of decorum for the younger generation) and tried to create a human blockade with his body. I brake-pedaled with my sneakered feet in time to miss him and slide across the floor and almost ram my sister into some Ikea products. Good times.

Patient Zero, Part II

I may have been wrong about the zombie apocalypse but I wasn't wrong about being patient zero.

I started a mini epidemic in my family.

After coming back from Florida, everyone who was on the road trip started getting sick.

Probably because I'm an inconsiderate person.

I was coughing and hacking in a tightly enclosed space.

With six other people around.

'Cause we were in a minivan.

I think my Aunt Kynthos was the only one who got away unscathed.

Then we came back and the roadtrippers mingled with other people in my family.

And, they started coughing, too.

I am the worst person ever.

I know.

To my contagion tree, mea culpa:

Somewhere in there, my cousin Jessica's girlfriend also got sick but I couldn't fit another person on my chart.

My illness is more powerful than my drawing capabilities.

In related news, everyone is all better but I'm still coughing.

Karma?

Maybe.

[TBT] New House with Bad Drawings

If you guys read my last TBT post, you'd know that I used to have a blog called Monkey Whimsy. I was reading through some of my old posts today and laughed out loud because I'd forgotten that I used to draw with markers and paper, then scan the pictures in for my posts. Now, I have more advanced technology -- my index finger and my phone -- to aid me in my drawing adventures.

So, things have improved a bit.

Ha.

For Throwback Thursday today, here's another one of my favorite posts from the old blog.

---

Monday, June 13, 2011
New House with Bad Drawings

My family bought a new house:

Yes, it is green.

And in case you were wondering if it's my bad drawing skills making my house look this ugly, or if in reality, it really is this ugly, the answer is this:

It's even uglier.

The shingles are green, the door is green, the fence is green.

Everything
Is
Green.

You can't even see where the front door is for all the green.
I guess that is a good deterrent against robbers.

At least it's better than if everything were red:

Or purple:

Actually, the purple is growing on me.

The house is also not house-shaped:

I guess whoever built the house in the 1920s thought a triangular-shaped green house would look too much like a tree.

And confuse the birds.

We don't want this happening:

The neighbor's house is house-shaped though:

But it is not green.

It is brown but I don't have a brown marker.

My box of markers is deficient.

Use your imagination.

They've got green bushes though.

We do not have green bushes.

We have a green house:

---

This post also made me smile because I realized that my sister's comments on it were the very first ones I ever received on Monkey Whimsy:

At first glance, this comment might seem lovely.

But then you think about the word "actually" and you realize what my sister really meant was:
Janice, you're usually NOT funny and cute, but this post is, and it surprised me. Congratulations!

Thank you, Tiffany.

Thank you for making me realize -- four years later -- what you really think of my sense of humor and adorableness.

Haha.

I love you.

A BBQ + Black Sesame Butter Cookies

Today, we had a family BBQ at my auncle's (aunt + uncle's) house.

We also took the opportunity to belatedly celebrate my Uncle Geraldine's birthday, which had passed the week before.

But really, I think it was just an excuse to have ice cream cake.

Not that my uncle's birthday isn't something to celebrate, we had just never done it before.

When we were blowing out the candles on the cake, my uncle asked my aunt for a kiss.

This is what he got:

Aren't my Aunt Joe and Uncle Geraldine adorable?

I love my family.

I meant to take more pictures of the BBQ because my uncle is famous for his BBQ ribs (really, my auncles used to own a BBQ restaurant in Chelsea) but I forgot to bring my camera - story of my life! - so, no pictures.

What I did remember to bring though, was this:

When I found out we were gathering for a family party, I immediately ran to the nearest grocery store to buy ingredients so that I could experiment with some recipes I'd been working on. Rarely do I get the chance to foist test my culinary adventures on other people so when the chance presented itself, I grabbed it greedily.

I'd been working on a sesame cookie recipe for awhile and by awhile, I mean I'd made it once before, and though it tasted awesome -- which surprised me because who makes an edible cookie on the first try? I must be a culinary genius. -- it was a little too dense for my tastes.

This time around, I wanted to try lightening the dough by using a whole egg instead of just the yolk.

I was a little bit nervous about bringing an experimental batch of cookies to my family to taste because they're all restauranteers/chefs/foodie people so I knew they'd be a tough crowd to sell to. But, that means they're also the best crowd to use as my guinea pigs, right? Right.

As soon as I brought the cookies into the house, my cousin pounced on them, and ten minutes later, the cookies were almost gone.

A rousing, positive verdict I'd say.

Even my Uncle Wilhelmina, who is notoriously a "Just OK"-er, gave me two thumbs up.

Though he might've been drunk.

But I'll take it.

Black Sesame Butter Cookies
Makes 20 cookies

Ingredients

• 8 tablespoons salted butter, preferably European-style butter
• ¼ cup sugar
• 1 egg, beaten
• ½ teaspoon vanilla extract
• pinch of salt
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 3 tablespoons black sesame seeds

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350ºF and line a cookie sheet with parchment paper.
2. In a medium-sized bowl, cream butter and sugar.
3. Add in beaten egg and mix well.
4. Stir in vanilla and salt.
5. Pour in flour and combine.
6. Mix in black sesame seeds.
7. Using a small scoop, scoop dough onto cookie sheet and flatten with the back of a spoon.
8. Bake at 350ºF for 20 minutes.

Notes

• If you would like a denser, crumblier cookie, use only 1 egg yolk, discarding the egg white.
• I used Kerrygold Salted Butter (the gold wrapper).