What's Your Yam?

Put yourself in the shoes of the Invisible Man in the "Yam Vendor" scene you discussed yesterday. If you found yourself away from home, tell me about a food that would evoke a similar experience for you, and why it is significant to you--is it connected to a particular person, place, and/or event? What would it help me understand about you and your story?  

Slicing the tape that binds the box shut to reveal the bento inside is enough to take me “back, back.” Every summer when I was a little kid, my family visited relatives in the gorgeous island of Kauai, Hawaii. Some of my earliest memories are of the entire family getting together by the sparkling waters of Poʻipū Beach, grilling or enjoying Hawaiian bentos after a great day on the water. The bentos have an assortment of rice, half a hot-dog, potato, fried chicken, beef, macaroni salad, fried shrimp, and other things I can’t put a name to. If nostalgia was a food, this would be the one. It brings me a lot of joy, whatever joy is left in the world, to see my younger cousins from California experiencing the island for themselves for the first time, just like me and my previous generations did years ago. Admittedly it isn’t the same anymore (the island is overrun by tourism more and more each year), but I feel Kauai is as impervious to change as it can be. After reading Invisible Man, my “yam” constantly reminds me of how much you really don’t know what you have until it’s gone. 

Unlike the Narrator, eating the bento in Kauai would have strongest effect rather than in a random place. In a way it puts my mind squarely into a temporary visit of a second home—one that I rarely visit anymore. Nevertheless, as soon as I take the first bite lying on the blanket next to the ocean and the humid breeze begins to hit my face, it feels like nothing else in the world matters, and all my worries drift out into a calming wave...away and away.

Picking a Side → What I really didn’t expect

 Well, I’ve got to say, this blog has shifted over the past week. I've started to use a pencil and eraser, which is something I never thought I’d do. I always told myself that I hated pencils–hated the feel, the sound, the smell, the effect on the paper. But, after giving it another shot, my opinion has significantly changed. I bought a pack of U.S.A. Gold #2 Pencils yesteryear and tried it out, and now I’m hooked. The dark, rustic graphite stands out on the page as you glide your pencil across. On top of being a good core, the pencil is extremely smooth. I used to dislike pencils because they couldn't come close to the smoothness of any ballpoint pen, but now I feel as though it’s unfair to compare the two; you’ll obviously never experience the same feeling. Even though I prefer blue ink over greyish color, the earthy smell and scratchy sounds that emanate from your desk makes writing with a pencil worth it.

Back when I was in elementary school–around eight years ago–I used to be obsessed with pencils. Admittedly, more than an eight-year-old should be. My teacher had a system of pencils in which each student would receive their own, brand new, Dixon Ticonderoga Pencil that had their student number written on a piece of tape, wrapped around the top part of the pencil near the ferrule. The good part? You could ask one of the teacher’s aid (that attending the neighboring middle school) for a new, fresh pencil anytime you needed. I loved this system. I would constantly overuse or ruin my pencils just to ask for a new one, simply because I loved the feeling of a fresh pencil that was long and had an untouched eraser. I seemed to be the only kid in my class who cared about pencils that much. I remember stealing fresh pencils from other classes too: one time I sneakily tried to stand in front of it so I could snatch it off the desk from behind my back, but I’m pretty sure one of the kids saw it happen anyway. In other words, I was a fanatic for a long time throughout my early years of school.

Now that I’m back to using pencils, I think I’ve rediscovered why I loved them so much years ago…

Spam Vs. Bacon

 Yesteryear as I was eating at a Hawaiian-Themed restaurant, I noticed that the eggs with Spam were more expensive than the bacon. I always thought Spam was the cheaper option, so I did some research to find out that it actually is. The reason it’s slightly more at the restaurant was likely because they provided more pieces of meat. There was a slightly heavier amount of Spam than bacon, which causes it to be more expensive, even if Spam is just mystery meat… Or is it?

I love both meats, so it’s honestly hard to compare the two and figure out what’s better. Spam has a slightly unique flavor that can’t really be described or compared to any other meat. Technically, according to the company, Spam is made out of “pork with ham meat added”. It’s not really mystery meat, but I don’t really get a pork-y taste. Regardless, the salty, juicy flavor is perfect with a side of eggs and rice. The same goes for bacon. The smoky, salty flavor is perfect on a Saturday morning, even if it’s not that healthy for you. Oh, and the crunch is better, too.

If I were to choose one, I’d say that bacon goes better with slightly more things and smells more appetizing than spam. 

Either way, both are delicious. 

Remembering March/April...

We're almost halfway through the month, and already this March has absolutely not lived up to the last.

I felt a weird contentedness and an overall sense of elevated spirits last year, excited by my growing passion of writing in this blog and the track season that was in full swing. I think I feel less happy now because I'm realizing that my childhood is about to come to a complete halt, and the real world is about to hit me like a truck, as cliché as that sounds. Also, the weather has been pretty shitty (annoyingly hot), so I'm not able to post about the rain again. 

Here's a journal entry for my AP Lang class I wrote last year in April (which I know isn't march, but it's relatively close): 

The Google Doc File

Funny but only to me.

Today at another track meet one of my plastic water bottles opened up in my backpack and got everything inside soaked. Thankfully, it was disgustingly hot today (at least for a Californian), so most of my stuffed dried off pretty good after letting it sit in the sun. 

This has happened to me so many times before, it's not even funny. I think the cap unscrews just enough when I shove my track uniform and shoes in my bag with all the half-closed water bottles. As expected, all of my papers in the folders are only wet at the bottom. Seeing this, however, takes me back to the last time I was in Kauai and my aunt carried the iron from her hotel to a relative's house. The water inside the iron spilled all over the bag, making her book and her daughter's book have the same looking water stain as me.  What an odd way to get your stuff wet. At the time I thought it was kind of funny. My aunt didn't even seem too bothered by it. Today when I saw this happened to me again, I shrugged my shoulders with indifference and laughed internally in pleasant memory.

Liberty Paints

 KEEP AMERICA PURE

WITH 

LIBERTY PAINTS

Here's some notes I took in class about Chapter 10. Probably my favorite chapter in the novel (besides Ch. 13), and one of the best I've ever read. I was re-reading it and got sucked into the paint plant all over again—that's how well done it is.

Another panic

Yesterday on my way to school, I started to go without plugging in my iPod into the aux cable. At a stop sign, I fumbled around for it in my pocket and tried to shove the cable in, but for some reason it wouldn't budge (you can probably hear the internal "fuck!" through the screen). I pushed harder, but of course that didn't work either, so I gave up and went the rest of the way in silence. Now parked I shined a handheld flashlight into the hole, revealing a tiny piece of metal lodged in the bottom of the jack (now an audible "fuck!"). 

I spent the next few minutes hitting the iPod against my copy of Invisible Man to get it out until it finally relented and flew out. I have absolutely no idea where that metal was from or how it got in the jack, but for a minute I got scared this iPod would be done for.

This shuffle is probably one of the few things I really don't want to lose. I know people think it's "performative" or "doin' too much" to use an iPod instead of your phone, but this thing is small, doesn't need service, has its own battery, and just works. Apple Music has disappointed me lately with the unfortunate destruction of the radio and the new interface, so now I only use it on my computer and when I want to wear AirPods. 

No, I'm not trying to be different. I simply like this product for what it is.