The ducks in the front and chicken in the middle still have their heads attached. I couldn't really look at them until my mom cut the birds up and took the heads out of the picture.

Disclaimer: Before I begin, I would like to say that I am writing this post under duress. My friend and editor at the Northwest Asian Weekly, Stacy Nguyen, got on my case earlier about how I haven’t exactly stuck with the one-post-per-week resolution I made earlier this month. With that in mind, here is my latest post — three days past the one-week mark.

Earlier this week, I read an article about a 17-year-old girl in Britain who collapsed after literally 15 years of eating nothing but chicken nuggets — though she would occasionally throw in some chips (or crisps as they’re called across the pond) or toast. Seriously.

I just couldn’t believe it because this case takes picky eating to the extreme and I know some very picky eaters.

As a food lover, this is one of my biggest pet peeves. I get really annoyed when people refuse to step out of their comfort zone to try new things. I don’t include vegetarians, vegans, gluten-free diners or anyone who sticks to a certain diet for ethical or health reasons. I actually admire that kind of dedication because honestly, I couldn’t do it.

The people I’m talking about are those who figure out what they like to eat and stick to just that. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that until you start throwing it in my face and it affects the types of foods/restaurants I can enjoy if I am with you. I’m sorry. I know that sounds selfish but that’s just how I feel.

And I’m not saying I’ll eat anything — although, growing up Asian, it’s close (squid, intestines or pork blood, anyone?). I do have my own list of won’t-touch-it foods. I do. First, I’m not a fan of cucumbers or raw bean sprouts. I also am not a fan of dining on food when the face — especially the eyes — are still attached to the rest of its body. For example, the roast ducks and steam chickens (see photo above) you can get from Chinese restaurants with the heads still attached just make me squeamish.

I'm not squeamish about sushi or raw fish, but I'll admit it's not my first choice.

This being said, I recently had an experience where I was on the other side of the equation. Meaning, the way I feel about certain foods (somewhat) dictated how a group of friends and I ordered at a restaurant. We went to Moshi Moshi, a sushi restaurant in Ballard and I’d mentioned that sushi was not my favorite food. I’m probably never going to be the person to suggest we go eat at a sushi restaurant.

This doesn’t mean I hate sushi. I’ll eat it. But I think my friends took it to mean I wouldn’t touch the stuff and were great with suggesting other dishes on the menu I could try. And while I really appreciated this, I felt really bad because I didn’t want to take away from what they wanted to get (we were eating family style).

This experience got me thinking whether the picky eaters out there feel just as bad when they realize people are going out of their way to accommodate their limited tastes for foods ABC when they’re really  craving XYZ.

If you’re a picky eater, let me know! I’m curious.

Our front yard at night. Since there have been no kids at our house, the snow has remained quite untouched.

With a snow storm closing down the greater Puget Sound region all week, I’ve decided to feature all my snow-related posts on my blog. Click through the slider to read more!

It’s no secret that the Pacific Northwest pretty much comes to a standstill when it snows and this week’s storm is no different. All week, schools all over the Puget Sound have canceled class; businesses have closed early so workers can make it home at a safe hour — or never opened at all; garbage has not been collected as the trucks did not attempt to brave the icy roads; and as always, all local news stations report on the weather almost 24/7, emphasizing how we should stay home if we can.

And living through this week’s storm has reminded me of British talk show host Jonathan Ross interviewing British comedian Michael McIntyre on the subject:

We survived the winter storm of 2008 (barely) and have learned a lot of lesson, so I’d like to say that the Seattle area has definitely improved on its response to snow. The governor has even declared a state of emergency as a precaution.

All's quiet as everyone pretty much stays home when it snows.

While it was a few weeks late for a white Christmas, I have to say it’s always quite the event when the white stuff falls.

Oliver is in the garage, so the other two cars need to stay outside in the cold...I felt bad for them.!

And while I would have loved to stay home all week (I did stay in and worked from home on Wednesday), I had to go in to work today since we were on deadline. It was quite the adventure driving in the snow. I think this was the first time I’d driven in conditions where the highways and interstates were completely blanketed. A little nerve wracking, but I made it to and from work unscathed.

I rang in 2012 with some new friends and reconnected with some old ones.

In addition to starting afresh with a new resolution for the new year, I’ve decided to go for a new look as well for my blog.

As you can see, it is A LOT different from the old look. This theme, Nuntius, has a lot of cool features that allow me to select which posts I want to highlight on my home page.

In the process of making these changes I learned a ton about WordPress and all of the different things I can do on a post, like make them “Sticky” so they stay on the homepage or create and embed a slideshow. I haven’t looked into the latter yet, but believe me, I will.

With all the different things I’ve discovered about WordPress tonight, I am sure I will spend a bit more time blogging now. And hopefully, I will be able to think about more interesting things to say.

So if there’s anything you think I should talk about or address let me know!

P.S. I’ve also updated my Journalism Clips page as well, so you can check out my latest work!

As the years have passed, those first kids have grown up and some have even had kids of their own. And while none of those little ones have come through my mom’s daycare system (I’m sure it’s just a matter of time) my mom has become “grandma” and I’ve become an “auntie.”

Now becoming an “auntie” is enough for a girl to feel her age (all 25 years worth), but I recently got a reality check from Priya, a 5-year-old girl my mom watches:

Priya: ”Ming, (auntie in Khmer) when you’re big like a mom, what do you want to be?
Me: ”What do you mean?”
Priya: ”What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Well then.

Seeing as how I’m a college graduate and have embarked on this thing called a journalism career, I figured I was (at least partially) a grownup. But apparently, according to Priya, I’m not and probably won’t be until I’m “big like a mom.” Having been the same size since high school, I think it’s safe to say I’m as big as I’m going to get — all 5 feet, 1/2 inch of me.

So I’ve got the grown part down.

But I can understand why a 5-year-old would think I’m still a kid (aside from the fact that I still act like one from time to time). I haven’t exactly reached the “up” in grownup yet. I’m still living at home and have no kids or even a love interest. So it’s no surprise that Priya just views me as a big kid.

To be honest, I really don’t mind. I was never really the kind of teenager who couldn’t wait till my next birthday or when I finally turned 18 or 21. I was pretty content to just be whatever age I was. I like to think I’m still that way in that I don’t freak out about getting older as some women tend to do. The way I see it, getting old is inevitable. You can’t fight it, so you might as well accept it.

This being said, I think growing up is a choice. Obviously in some ways I am still about 15, 16 years old — if some of my reading material were to prove anything. But I would like to think I have matured, at least a little bit, in other aspects of my life.

Say hello to Oliver, my new ride!

And I think I have: I graduated from college with a bachelor’s degree in journalism as I’d wanted to since middle school; as I’ve mentioned already, I’m beginning my career in journalism and have a full-time job (with benefits and even a 401(k) plan); I’ve paid off my student loans (YAY!); I’ve bought a new car (miss you Doris!); and I even moved out at one point.

But alas, here I am, back at home. For the most part, it’s not a big deal to me. I get along with my parents and while I help out with the bills, my expenses are pretty minimal. And in this economy, I am very grateful for that.

However, there is a part of me that wishes for my own place. This is nothing against my parents or anything. I just miss the independence that comes from being on your own and fending for yourself and just being responsible for your own well-being. But with my recent vehicular purchase, I know my own place is going to be a few years away. And that’s okay.

In the meantime, I guess I’ll just enjoy being grown and wait for the “up” to happen.

“Drawing from Memory”
By Allen Say
Scholastic Press, 2011

From the time he was a young boy growing up in Japan, Allen Say knew he wanted to be a cartoonist.

Inspired by comic books, he drew what he saw, what he imagined, and what he copied from his beloved comic books. Say’s parents were not happy with this, wanting him to be a respectable citizen who can earn a living. But Say was not deterred.

“Drawing” is the true story of how Say, who grew up to become an award-winning artist and illustrator, moved away from home at the age of 12 to go to school. He became a pupil to Noro Shinpei, a well-known Japanese cartoonist — and Say’s favorite.

The story ends when Say is about 15, on the verge of moving to the United States with his father, but it is clear how important his formative years were.

Despite living in a new city by himself at a very young age, Say takes the initiative to seek out Shinpei. He admits to being extremely nervous and intimidated at first, but he stands his ground and eventually becomes more comfortable. I think this is an important lesson to teach kids: to not give up what they love.

To read the rest of the recommendations, click here.

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 5,600 times in 2011. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 5 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Note from Sammi:

Only 28 posts in 365 days? Good lord, that’s pathetic for someone who claims to be a writer. And I know I’ve already broken my pre-New Year’s resolution to post something twice a week. Ugh. I disgust myself.

But fear not! Seeing as how it’s a brand new year, I can start afresh! So, I am making it my goal/resolution for 2012 to post something at least once a week. Why only one, you ask? Frankly, because I know myself and to be honest, the twice-a-week goal was more to see that I made an effort to post at least once a week.

So, here is to a new year and hopes of more writing from yours truly!

Mark Jan. 28, 2012 on your calendar!

Goodbye Doris...I'll always remember you.

You came to us in ’99
But you were my sister’s, before you were mine
With your unique silver-purple paint
The best description to use is “quaint”

We got together in about 20007
And it was just a match made in heaven
We traveled to and from Idaho, and lived to tell the tale
Survived all the rain, the snow, the wind and the hail
We made it back to the Evergreen State
With two more years together, granted by fate

You have cigarette burns and a torn-up seat
But that’s just character that can’t be beat
Others scoff that your driver-side window’s broken
But I think it adds another idiosyncrasy token
I’ll admit you’re not perfect; none of us are
But you were there for me and together, we went far

Now the time has come for us to go our separate ways
But I will never forget all of our shared days
I hate that it’s time for us to have to part
But Doris, my friend, you’ll always have a special place in my heart.

“How to Be an American Housewife”
By Margaret Dilloway
Berkley Books, 2010

Growing up, Shoko was very close with her brother Taro. But when she got older and decided to marry an American GI and leave Japan after the end of World War II, Taro was not happy about it — among other things.

After half a century with an ocean between them, Shoko plans to return to Japan and reconcile with Taro.

But a chronic heart condition (most likely caused by radiation from the atomic bombs dropped by Americans) prevents her from traveling, so she asks her daughter Sue to go in her place. So Sue and her teenage daughter Helena travel to Japan to connect with a branch of their family they’ve never met.

During their trip, the mother-daughter duo meets a number of extended relatives in addition to Taro. And through these meetings, they learn more about Shoko and her life in Japan.

What I liked about “Housewife” is the balance between the past and present.

To read the rest of the article, click here.

This is not always the fate of marriage. Courtesy Photo.

I recently read a book in which the heroine is quite a militant feminist. She scoffs at the thought of a woman wanting to get married and have a family or any sense of a “traditional” life and thinks she’s fine on her own. And while I agree that a woman doesn’t need a man to feel complete or vice versa, being in a relationship does not mean giving up your independence as our heroine thinks.

If you’re with the right person, they won’t make you feel as if you’re dependent on them. In fact, they will help you grow as an individual.

I’ll admit to having feminist values and beliefs, but I will say that there are some things that really bother me.

Feminists are often portrayed as bitter, man-hating women who would kill a man as soon as she sees him. Now why is that? Why can’t a woman be strong and independent and still want a family? Why does it always seem to be so black and white: In order to be strong, a woman must do everything on her own, without the help of a man.

To me, feminism is just one big gray area — pretty much like everything else in life. I’ve been called a flaming feminist, which in some cases I will concede to be true. But I also eventually want a husband and a family. So what does that make me? A traditional feminist?

Something else that bothers me about feminism is this penchant for women to pass judgement and look down on other women based on their choices. Females are much harder on each other than males — of any age. Sure, a confrontation between two guys (or women) may turn physical, but those types of injuries heal faster than any emotional or psychological scarring a woman can inflict on another woman. To put it in short: Women will fuck with your mind and your emotions. And having been on the receiving end of this, I will say it is not pretty.

While I am proud to say that I have never intentionally tried to mess with another person (of any gender), I will admit I’m not innocent. I have passed judgement on other women for whatever reason and that does not make me proud.

In a behind-the-scenes special feature for the latest DVD installment,  Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling recalls an interview with a female journalist who called Harry’s surrogate mother Molly Weasley ”just a mother.” This angered Rowling:

Now, I consider myself to be a feminist, and but I’d always wanted to show that just because a woman has made a choice — a free choice — to say, ‘Well, I’m gonna raise my family and that’s gonna be my choice. I may go back to a career. I may have a career part-time, but that’s my choice,’ doesn’t mean that that’s all she can do.

I think Rowling nailed it on the head. Feminism is about making the choice to do what makes you happy and that may mean being a stay-at-home mother. My mom stayed at home while my sister and I grew up, but that doesn’t mean she’s weak. I have seen her go toe to toe with my dad and be just as much of a force to be reckoned with as him (if not more, sometimes).

There also seems to be this notion that once you’re in a relationship your partner will want to change you and mold you into the type of person they want you to be. Or that you have to change who you are in order to have another person like you enough to want to be in a relationship with you. But once again, my favorite muggle author has got it right:

In creating Hermione, I felt I created a girl who was a heroine, but she wasn’t sexy. Nor was she the girl in glasses who’s entirely sexless. You know what I mean? She’s a real girl. She’s a girl. She’s…she fancies Ron, but her hopes initially are pretty low. She’s a real girl, but she never compromises on being a smart girl. She never compromises in acting dumb. She never tries to make Ron feel better by pretending to be less than she is, which is why they don’t get together a lot sooner. That’s the reality of life. But I’m proud of Hermione. She is who she is. And if that, you know, if that spoke to girls like me, then of course, I’m hugely, hugely proud of that! That’s what it’s all about.

I couldn’t have said it better myself.