I wanted to sleepover at my cousin’s house. If I could avoid sleeping at my grandma’s house, I wanted to. I wanted to avoid the space I remember her most. And I wanted to avoid the emptiness she left behind. But my mom told me that she didn’t want to bother my sick aunt, so we’re sleeping at grandma’s. I didn’t resist it, I accepted it maturely. David lived in his grandpa’s former room and his house for years, I knew it would be doable.

And it was. Just being in the house I know so well and with family I know so well but haven’t seen since her passing was so…nice. I forgot how much I enjoyed just being in my family’s presence, just hanging out. I haven’t enjoyed that in awhile. Her hospital bed was still in her and Helen’s bedroom. But the empty bed didn’t make me sad; I felt okay. In the living room, they had her picture in a frame with incense. Boy, did reality sink in for me. That picture was all that I had left to always remember her face. That picture will be with us for the rest of our lives, but grandma won’t be anymore. She’s an ancestor now, and we’re praying to her now.
The next morning, the first day of the funeral, David and I woke up to loud conversations in the living room, which sounded to David like arguing. But it was definitely not arguing, it’s just the way my family converses. That morning was pretty stressful: running errands in a time crunch, having to take my dad to his mistress’ house because he forgot his fucking shoes, finding out my dad physically threatened my mom because she wanted to cut him off of car insurance. David could tell you I went crazy, probably crazier than he’s ever seen me. But whatever, it was finally time for the funeral and everyone just shut up.

Even considering the circumstances, it was still so nice spending time with family. I only see certain cousins a few times a year and I had fun hanging out with them for 2 days. Even at a funeral, several of them congratulated me about my acceptance to medical school.
Overall, the funeral consisted of a Taoist ceremony and a Buddhist ceremony. The Taoist ceremony was free and over a dozen members of the Lord of the Universe Church came to participate. According to my dad, there would have been twice as much if my youngest uncle didn’t have beef with the church. The Buddhist ceremony cost $1200 and we paid for police escort to Rose Hills. My family dropped at least $12,000 on the whole affair. Nothing but the best for her.
Unfortunately, it’s October 4, 2010 as I write this and her funeral was on August 13th and 14th. I will try to remember as best I can.

Both the Taoist and Buddhist chanting lasted extensive amounts of time. But the Buddhist chanting consisted of the immediate family kneeling during most of it. It was strenuous; there was one section of chanting that lasted at least 30 minutes straight. Most of us ended up off our knees after a few minutes. But my oldest uncle (bak fu), stayed erect on his knees the whole time. Then the monks led us in a walk around the funeral hall where we walked pass the open casket for the first time. That was tough; many of the cousins cried, especially Helen. We walked around it a second time right after, and it was significantly less difficult. I think they do twice on purpose, to help you come to terms. Though the chanting was exhaustive, the tone, the rhythm, the continuity was entrancing. The deep tones penetrated me and it allowed for self-reflection, to be alone with my thoughts and memories of her.

It was a 2-day funeral, so before we left on the first day, the funeral director had us tell her, “grandma, we’re leaving early now, but we’ll be back early tomorrow morning to see you.”
On the second day, we burnt the paper. Even though in college I was taught that Buddhism believed in reincarnation, my family obviously doesn’t. I guess you can call it “heaven.” But we burnt lots of paper money, I’d say at least $1000. And the following paper products: 2-story house complete with fridge, fan, chairs and balcony, Mercedes with a chauffer (perfect because my grandma never drove), 2 servants, gold and silver mountains (so she can have a view of everything), a bridge (so she can go anywhere), and lastly a very beautifully decorated box that contained whatever our imagine wanted to (e.g., credit cards).

Stacy gave a wonderful speech, which was the only portion of the funeral I understood. Everything was in Mandarin of course. She talked about how the one thing grandma wished was to be able to give money to all her grandchildren. That made me sob.

The funeral procession was cool, worth the $400 or so. Our heads were lowered as the casket went into the ground. Then we all put flowers over her casket. That’s when I saw Raymond cry for the first time. And Pam was so compassionate to everyone. I had to jet out of there with the rest of the elders because big aunt freaked out and thought I needed to drive her when I really didn’t. So I missed what happened next at Rose Hills, but I got to go the temple with the elders where my grandma’s name will be posted forever.

Overall, it was a wonderful experience. It was interesting and elaborate. As superficial as it sounds, I’m happy that so much money was spent on her. Not just by my family, but friends bought huge flower displays that cost at least $100-200. I loved feeling close to Buddhism again, and of course just bonding with family. As little as I see them or talk to them, family bonds are amazing. I thought the timing of everything would make grieving hard as I started medical school and anatomy lab. But I think the timing was perfect for me. It was easier for me that she passed away after I left for medical school, it was easier for me to deal with death in general with my grandma’s passing and anatomy lab. I really have this new understanding and acceptance of death. Death makes life worth living.

This a very odd time in my life right now, in that I've never been so happy with life and so optimistic about my future, but at the same time I'm approaching the saddest event I will have ever experienced up to this point in my life.

As I near the end of orientation, I am so confident and pleased that UC Davis is the perfect school for me. One week ago, I still doubted my ability to be a doctor, I still couldn't imagine myself as a doctor. But now, I am very confident that I will be successful and UC Davis will give me the support I need. I know it will be stressful and difficult, but I know it's going to be wonderful. I am in love with my "big sib" who is so bubbly, nurturing, and very involved. She is the perfect mentor for me. I don't have to worry about being mistreated here because UC Davis is the first to have a policy on mistreatment, and they have made great effort in making us feel comfortable to report mistreatment. I didn't approach my professors much as an undergrad, but they're so approachable and supportive here.

However, as I go through each day of orientation, my grandma's condition worsens with each day. She will pass away soon, and I'm preparing myself by expecting it. Every time I receive a text from Connie or Annie, I anticipate that it will be the ultimate news. It hasn't happened yet. And when it does, I will be devastated. I wish her passing didn't have to be this way - full of pain and fear. I wish she would find peace, I wish she wasn't in pain. And coincidentally, there were several times throughout orientation where the staff mentioned "death in the family" and all the support and accommodations available to me in case of this.

I haven't got the ultimate news. But I got the warning call. Helen was crying. I never see or hear her cry. It makes me so sad. I hope she can be strong enough, but my grandma was her everything. My grandma wanted her and loved her when our own parents didn't.

Two weeks ago I visited my grandma and she was in a better state. She recognized me and seemed to understand that I was going to medical school to become a doctor. When I told her, she stared at me and smiled for several seconds. She couldn't talk because dialysis dries out her voice. But she looked at me, really looked at me, and smiled so sincerely. I am so happy to have that memory of her. I know I was one of her favorite grandchildren after Helen of course. Oh my goodness, I'm already using past tense.

Some time in the past month, I should have posted a blog about coming to terms with not getting into medical school this year and having to apply again this year. About how I'm confident I'll get into military medical school next year and I'll choose Indian Health Service instead of the Navy so I won't have to be deployed or relocated. About how I'll have a raise and a lot of hours at my work so I'll finally be able to pay off my credit card debt. About how I'm bummed that I would have taken 3 years off after graduating and that's 3/4 of medical school. About how I'm a little bummed because that's another year I have to put off having children (not that I want children yet, but I want to have them at a younger age rather than an older age), but I'm constantly reminding myself that I'm only 22, so it ain't so bad. About how after realizing that I'm still young, the only main thing I'm really, really not looking forward to is just filling out that damn application again. About how I haven't grown or done anything special in this past year and that it will show in my application.

I never wrote that blog.

I also never submitted my application for this year's cycle. I was waiting for my paycheck so I can pay for the $500+ cost (last year it was nearly $800, but I chose more wisely this time around). I was also waiting to make sure that I got into an EMT class at Santa Ana College. I wanted to take that class so I could beef up my application this year. So I didn't want to submit my application until I knew if I could include that or not because I was on the waitlist. Well the class started 2 days ago, and I didn't get a spot.

Then yesterday, I got a voicemail during work. I checked it after work and it was the Director of Admissions at UC Davis School of Medicine. "There has been a change to the status of your application." I got excited. They don't call you to tell you that you've been rejected from the waitlist (oh yeah, I found out earlier this month that I'm on the waitlist for UC Davis, didn't have much hope so I barely told anyone), they only call you if you've been accepted off the waitlist. But I didn't want to get to excited until I was sure and I called them back at 6:30pm, so I wouldn't know until the next day. I really did put up a mental block from believing that I'm accepted. I even forgot about the phone call. I continued thinking about new apartments for me and David in Orange County (we were planning on moving into our own place together). So with that mental block, I didn't know who would be calling at 8:10 in the morning...

..then I saw area code 916. I quickly perked up, "Good morning!" Then the director says his greetings..."How would you like to go to medical school?" I teared up by the end of the phone call. Then full-on cried after I hung up. David was hugging me and smiling the whole time.

It still hasn't fully processed yet. I somehow miraculously need to move up there by July 26th. I can't believe this is happening. Thank you to everyone who believed in me - wow, I've heard that line a million times before, but it's so resounding. People believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. This is fucking happening!

The problem with keeping a blog is that I have to feel like blogging. And if I don't feel like blogging, I don't. And if I don't blog, then the feelings I felt at any certain time slowly become more and more vague. And it's unfortunate, because I want to remember how I felt exactly...but vaguely remembering will have to do.

On Easter, I get a text from my sister Connie that my grandma's in the hospital and it's serious. I go to visit my grandma in the hospital the next day and she was the most vibrant and awake I have seen her in the past 2 years. She recognized me, she was talkative, and she was very aware of what was going on. She randomly gave me advice on borrowing money and told Connie stories of how she didn't want to give any of her money to the Viet Cong. The doctor told our family she had one week to live. Her colon had been infected beyond repair and she wouldn't survive surgery. So all we can do is wait. When I heard that she had one week to live, the news didn't process. I didn't understand that my grandma was only going to be alive for one more week and I also didn't believe it. Well my instincts served me right. She's still alive today, but we're still waiting. It's been over a month since we were told she had one more week, so I don't know exactly what we're waiting for. Well maybe I do know and I just can't say it. Funeral plans have been discussed already.

I'm trying to express my emotions here, but it's difficult. I haven't seen her in nearly 3 weeks, I must see her this weekend. It's hard to see her in pain. I want so much to help her, but there's nothing I can do. All I can do is visit her and I definitely will this weekend. Though it's selfish, I like that I live an hour away from my family. The pain is easier to deal with, easier to ignore. But I'm ashamed that I've ignored it too much. My older sister Helen is my grandma's caretaker. And though she hasn't achieved success in her life in the traditional sense, caring for my grandma makes her a much stronger person than I am.

This morning, I admitted something out loud to myself, and that's when I really felt it.

I'm scared.

Previously, I've quickly brushed off any thoughts about possibly not getting into USUHS (Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences aka military medical school). I replaced those thoughts with thoughts of my life in DC, me and David's move across America, and just finally being a medical student. I also replaced those negative thoughts with exercise, preparing myself to pass the physical training tests I'll have to undergo as a military medical student (run 2 miles, push-ups, and sit-ups).

And I think all the positive thinking worked. I received the letter last Friday (2/26), it was dated 2/19. It said that I've been "recommended for acceptance," BUT "there are no spots available at this time." So I'm on the wait list. I actually should have known this was coming because I put the Navy as my first choice and they told us Navy was already full the day I interviewed. I regret not having chosen a different branch and I regret not going to my original interview in November. Oh fucking well, I need to stop dwelling.

So now I wait and pray. I haven't been accepted by any of the schools I interviewed with, and that is why I'm scared. I haven't been rejected either at least. But I'm really scared. I don't want to wait another year to start my medical career. I've already been out of school 2 years, I'm done waiting. Whispering out loud to myself this morning "I'm scared" almost made me cry. But I'm fine now. Now it's just back to waiting and trying not to stress.

"Every time we say goodbye, I wish we had one more kiss."

David said that to me this morning before I left for work. Until he told me, I didn't even know those were lyrics from the Jason Mraz/Colbie Cailat song "Lucky." And we are so lucky. On his end, he never had a real girlfriend/relationship before he met me at the age of 23. On my end, I've never been in a relationship with someone who has become my best friend and from whom I don't have to hide anything. In a very major way, he has changed me for the better. I wasn't sure I could be monogamous before. I always wanted to get married, but I wasn't sure I wouldn't cheat. Though cheating is a choice, it is a choice I felt I was bound to make based on how I thought of myself and other men. But David's changed that. I don't want the attention of other men anymore. David is a great catch, and since he's my boyfriend, that makes me a great catch. The moment I met him, I told him, "you're cute; you are so cute." And now he's my boyfriend living with me? We are so lucky.

I'm really upset right now. And I don't know what else to do but blog. I almost want to cry. One of my best friends says I'm not taking Lent that seriously. And it makes me want to scream. You either cheat or you don't, and I have not fucking cheated. The fucking end. How the fuck am I not taking Lent seriously?

I feel I have changed drastically since Lent started. I jogged a mile without walking for the first time in my life...2 days in a row! I plan to make it 3 days in a row tonight. I'm absolutely positive that my willpower and determination when jogging that mile has to do with my strength in sticking to vegetarianism.

To be fair, this is what my best friend was referring to: my cousin's birthday party was last Saturday and I was starving. ALL the warm food had meat in it except corn on the cob. Pork fried rice, chicken chow mein, shrimp pasta. So I picked out all the meat and gave it to David. For my lent, I didn't want to eat food with meat in it (even chicken broth), but it wasn't a steadfast rule. It was more of a personal choice when I go grocery shopping or order at a restaurant. I know a real vegetarian would have just eaten the corn on the cob. But I'm not claiming to be a vegetarian, I fully admit that I will eat meat again. My best friend might also be referring to the "veggie omelette" I ordered at Norm's that somehow ended up with bacon and sausage in it. That was so not my fault and not even worth mentioning here.

Okay, I've calmed down now. To be even more fair, I don't think I've talked to this friend about how Lent has changed me and how serious I am about it. Now I will.

I did not think that giving up meat would be this easy. It's only day 4, but I'm doing just fine. I'm impressed with my will-power and self-control. I smelled freshly-cooked bacon this morning, and I had no urge to grab a piece.

It's only day 4, but I already feel like Lent is one of the best things I've ever done for myself. I haven't really figured out if I believe in God, so I don't feel closer to God, but I feel closer to myself...if that makes sense. I kinda feel like I can do anything I want to do, like I'm deserving of my achievements - past and future. I feel like I'm becoming the person I want to be.

I already like myself in a lot of ways. But there are a lot of things I don't like about me, and I'm not talking about external characteristics or things I can't control. The things I don't like about me are qualities I can control. I wish I were more assertive. I wish I didn't cry so easily. I wish I were more diligent in my study and work. I wish I wasn't so envious. I think if I did Lent a couple years ago, I would have had a much better GPA and MCAT score.

But life happens as it happens, and now I just need to focus all my positive energy on getting accepted into military medical school. I will be a great asset to their student body, and I would be proud to be a physician treating soldiers and their families.

Today is the first day of Lent. I'm not Catholic, I'm not even Christian. But I do have a desire to test myself only temporarily. So the 40 days of Lent is already set up for me, and all I have to do is follow it. I've been talking about it for a month or so now, and I love that I've inspired my friends to participate with me. Lilian is giving up eating out for lunch when at work. Tiffany is giving up chips. And David is giving up soda.

Oh yeah, and I'm giving up meat. Meat as in beef, pork, poultry, and seafood. But I'll still eat eggs and dairy products. Usually for Lent, you're supposed to give up something that you do a lot of and find pleasure in. While I do eat meat everyday and find pleasure in it, there are much worse things I could (should?) have given up. Well, I have one thing in mind, and if you know me, you know what it is (or you can ask). So I'm not challenging myself as much as I could, but this will be a challenge nonetheless.

I chose meat mainly for environmental reasons. I don't know all the facts, but I know the production of meat and seafood adversely affects our world. Another small reason is the Buddhist inside of me, isn't that ironic considering this is a Catholic holiday?

I'm not even through day one yet, but I'm confident I won't have an infraction. I've told too many people to embarrass myself by failing!

Last Saturday, my mentee and I hung out with one of my friends. My friend pointed out how my mentee continuously referenced me, like seeking my approval or just my reaction. She really looks up to me.

Her name is Jenny also. David and I call her Little Jenny. And like me, she's smart and the youngest in her family. I see a lot of me in her when I was her age. Like wanting to show how smart I am and priding myself on being right. Oh wait, that's me today. Haha. She's talked about how people in her family have used poor grammar and made-up words like "funner." I didn't know "funner" wasn't a word until high school! I'm not the only one who sees our similarities, David sees it too. He said he especially saw me in her after this conversation:

Little Jenny and I were talking about a cross street in Santa Ana that we both know.

Little Jenny: Is there a Del Taco there?

Me: yes

Little Jenny: Is there a liquor store there?

Me: yes

Little Jenny: Then I'm right.

Am I that self-righteous?! Haha, I tend to be. But in my and little Jenny's defense, it's because we ARE right. Haha. I think it's great that she has as much confidence as she does considering the circumstances.