The Calm Before the Storm
First half of the week was pretty much idleness. The heat was still searing although it was waning by Wednesday.
Happy Birthday!
Thursday was my sister's birthday and it's one of those required family dinners. Unfortunately, also had a meeting with my friends during the evening so I asked my mom if she could schedule the dinner earlier (6 pm) rather than the usual time we leave the house (7 pm) so I can meet up with my friends at the designated time (7:30 pm).
My mom was persuaded but unfortunately, she chose a far flung restaurant away from the Greenhills area where I was supposed to meet up with my friends. So by 7 pm, I got out of the restaurant and braved the streets of Quezon City (where ABS-CBN is) to walk to Ortigas. Of course this really shocked my mom, and agitated my father, who didn't want me walking alone in the evening. Threats were made against me, only to be rescinded before I left.
Suffice to say, walking and sprinting from ABS-CBN to Ortigas (where Xavier School is) during nighttime took me a record high of 30 minutes.
Rain
By Friday there was some change in the weather, with rain starting to pour. Father felt guilty over the incident, and told the usual spill of loving me and all.
Storm
I still stand by the opinion that there's only two instances when father starts talking about his (and his family's) life: when he's drunk, and when he's making a sermon-type of speech. He gathered all his children yesterday and told the narrative of his grandfather until the present time.
It's not that I don't appreciate my family's history, but I've been asking these questions several years before, only to be rebuffed and given a short, vague answer. Which is really annoying about my parents. Because I know them more than they know themselves, and so I ask the pertinent questions way before they want to talk about it. And when they finally talk about it, they treat it as if I wasn't interested in the first place.
Anyway, insight for the day was why my father has a prejudice against Filipinos, and the fact that my "real" Chinese family name is xia (fookien) or xie (mandarin) (谢 ) instead of yu or yang (杨 ). So yes, neither Charles Tan nor Charles Yu is my supposed to name (as if it wasn't already complicated) but Charles Xia.
First half of the week was pretty much idleness. The heat was still searing although it was waning by Wednesday.
Happy Birthday!
Thursday was my sister's birthday and it's one of those required family dinners. Unfortunately, also had a meeting with my friends during the evening so I asked my mom if she could schedule the dinner earlier (6 pm) rather than the usual time we leave the house (7 pm) so I can meet up with my friends at the designated time (7:30 pm).
My mom was persuaded but unfortunately, she chose a far flung restaurant away from the Greenhills area where I was supposed to meet up with my friends. So by 7 pm, I got out of the restaurant and braved the streets of Quezon City (where ABS-CBN is) to walk to Ortigas. Of course this really shocked my mom, and agitated my father, who didn't want me walking alone in the evening. Threats were made against me, only to be rescinded before I left.
Suffice to say, walking and sprinting from ABS-CBN to Ortigas (where Xavier School is) during nighttime took me a record high of 30 minutes.
Rain
By Friday there was some change in the weather, with rain starting to pour. Father felt guilty over the incident, and told the usual spill of loving me and all.
Storm
I still stand by the opinion that there's only two instances when father starts talking about his (and his family's) life: when he's drunk, and when he's making a sermon-type of speech. He gathered all his children yesterday and told the narrative of his grandfather until the present time.
It's not that I don't appreciate my family's history, but I've been asking these questions several years before, only to be rebuffed and given a short, vague answer. Which is really annoying about my parents. Because I know them more than they know themselves, and so I ask the pertinent questions way before they want to talk about it. And when they finally talk about it, they treat it as if I wasn't interested in the first place.
Anyway, insight for the day was why my father has a prejudice against Filipinos, and the fact that my "real" Chinese family name is xia (fookien) or xie (mandarin) (谢 ) instead of yu or yang (杨 ). So yes, neither Charles Tan nor Charles Yu is my supposed to name (as if it wasn't already complicated) but Charles Xia.
posted by Charles at 11:20 PM
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