Helen asked me to do this on a note in her facebook. I decided to do it on Xanga instead. Copy paste it and post the survey on your Xanga what have yous for my entertainment!!


What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Not wanting or needing anything more than what I already have.

What is your greatest fear?
falling behind and being considered a failure by the people I respect most, my parents.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
always having to seek others' approval

What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Thinking they could no wrong-- "my way of thinking is best." And not being able to apologize to those you've hurt, either because they don't care or because they have too much pride.
Oh, and not being honest to themselves and to others.

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
chastity 

On what occasion do you lie?
I don't. I'm an unusually honest person.

What do you dislike most about your appearance?
My legs. Short, stumpy, and lame!

What is your greatest regret?
I try not to regret anything... just learn from mistakes

What or who is the greatest love of your life?
my friends, who, in the past 21 years have shown be what it means to really love someone. I have been so lucky to have so many great loves :)

What is your current state of mind?
"I need to find a job.. I need to find a job.. I need to find a job"

What do you consider your greatest achievement?
so far? moving to new york and learning how to adapt to the new.

What is your most treasured possession?
my memories: photos, letters, videos.. they allow me to live and relive the happiest moments of my life.

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
being expendable to someone you love or care about deeply. They don't care how you feel about them because they feel nothing for you.

Where would you like to live?
yes, it's cliche, but home is wherever the heart is.

What is your favorite occupation?
something in media, hopefully where I am surrounded by people I consider as friends before I consider them colleagues.
Later in life when I am more comfortable financially, maybe a professor or some other job where I can give back. 

What do you most value in your friends?
that they want to be around me even when I don't feel like myself .. and even when it inconveniences them, they are there for me. Because I would do the same for them.

Who are your favorite writers?
Nabakov, Kafka. For lyrical prose and for ingenious, absurd metaphors, respectively.

Who is your favorite hero of fiction?
fictional characters are so flawed... no hero.

Who are your heroes in real life?
My mom, who, despite being so fragile, is one of the strongest people I know.

What are your favorite names?
Beyonce.. haha jk. I don't know how to answer this question.

What is it that you most dislike?
Butterflies and picky eaters.

How would you like to die?
I don't know specifically, but I'd like to know when it was coming. No sudden deaths. That way, I have time to say goodbye and have one last fantastic meal with all my loved ones.

I am addicted to YouTube. I don't know if I'm a year too late, but I just got really obsessed with KevJumba amongst other online crap. I think it's because I suffered from media deprivation for so long that now I'm overindulging and it's getting a little out of hand! Get me off this thing!

I found an old polaroid of my parents when they were my age. Crazy with a capital "C"!


Check out that speedo.. pahaha.

I find old pictures within the pages of old books I've read. They're slightly tattered and worn from having been transported from page to page and from book to book, but you can still make out the image.

I thought I threw them all away, but I guess you can never really get rid of them.

The fondest memory I have of my mom:

I was seven years old and it was my first real memory of Disneyland. If I had been there before,  I only remembered bits and pieces from the stories people told: me chewing on a glow stick until the green neon juice popped into my eye; the makeshift leash around my chest constructed out of my mom's sweater and my grandmother's scarf; and the vomiting after 3 rounds of teacups.

And I knew it from photos: a very frightened 4 year old me with Goofy; with the Donald Duck ice cream-- (Gumball eyes already eaten); and with the infamous Mickey cap that I wore until the age of 13.

But when I was seven. The memories were all my own.

It was warm, but not that warm. I still had a sweater tied to my waist-- a Fall signifier. I had a horrible haircut with bangs cut way too short a la Audrey Hepburn, that is if Ms. Hepburn looked like a little Asian boy with no front teeth. I wore biker shorts. Blue ones... with surfing polar bears on them.

I was convinced that I was not my mother's daughter. She had long, black hair with bangs cut straight across in that new age hippie way, not in that "just shot out of Asia" way. It was wavy and wispy and flew in the wind-- something my hair never did. She was skinny, pale and trendy as hell. She had bright, inquisitive doe eyes and even without makeup, looked absolutely perfect.

I don't remember my dad being there.. or my sister.. or my sister's nanny. That day, I only remember her.

We were on the Disney Monorail, heading back to the hotel for a short break. I sat near the window looking outwards onto millions of cars in the the parking lot and my mom, in the aisle seat, watched me. Suddenly, I felt her hug me from behind, squeezing me so hard that my arms were pinned down, and my Mickey cap dislodged itself from my head from her over-affectionate gestures. I would normally wiggle my way out of her embrace, but that day, I just let her hug me. I grew sleepy and she told me to lay on her lap. I did, and she stroked my hair as I slept. She asked me if I knew how much she loved me. I pretended to sleep and didn't respond.





When you're living, you never think to yourself, "I will never forget this moment." And yet, there are certain memories that seem to always stick out more than others, almost as if your young self had saved it, knowing that it would be precious to you someday.

Sometimes when I'm feeling down, I pull out a memory from my childhood that's been displaced by time... and I write about it. I articulate every detail that I could possibly dig up and I write them down. Then later, when I want to go back to that memory, I can. But the tricky thing about memories is.. depending on where you are in life, they change.




I do know how much you love me..