beanie baby worm blog

The Manicurist’s Daughter came into my life at the perfect time. I had just come home from traveling overseas for a week, and being there for my family as we navigated some health issues my grandpa is going through. He helped raise me in a lot of ways, I will always be “baby” to him, the nickname he still calls me at times, albeit less frequently. I am still unable to completely articulate the grief I felt into words, the frustration and pain and acceptance or lack thereof is something that I know has changed who I am and how I experience life. It was almost difficult for me to believe that the pain I was feeling is universal, that everyone must come face to face with health issues, death, suffering of loved ones or oneself at one point or another in their life. I suppose experiencing heartbreak is similar, it is unimaginable how you navigated life before. It’s not exactly regret (i.e. “I wish I never had to feel this way”), but almost a more nuanced understanding of the world, our pa...

I loved this book, and it was one of the highlights of my reading year. It truly encapsulates why we read for entertainment while also providing another big reason for reading: learning. Because I was hugely entertained by the sharp and fast-paced writing of the book, the high energy, high stakes feeling of being a chef or cook, the camaraderie and rapport amongst people in the industry, the love and passion for food, the hopelessness and frustration of being in such a difficult business. How it seems to attract the misfits, the weirdos, but the good and ugly in people seem to shine brightly in the midst of service and the epic journey through the industry that Bourdain takes his reader on. I’ll be honest, I don’t really know much about what goes on in a professional kitchen. My knowledge of cooking comes from YouTube videos of how to be a home chef, the tinkering with recipes I do in my own kitchen, the experience I accumulated since I was a child slicing ham and apples to put on top ...

Any book that discusses the Asian American condition is a win in my book. I really liked how this started off; it was emotional. Hong unearths so many memories of trauma and microaggressions, and similar experiences I’ve had, as she discusses her upbringing as a Korean American and her outlook on her experience with Asian immigrant parents. Each essay was punchy and really tied back to the title: Minor Feelings. It truly encapsulates the feelings that come with being Asian American—marginalized, but not that marginalized; traumatic, but not that traumatic. I completely understand where she’s coming from, and it’s so difficult to put into words because it feels like no one cares. We don’t have it that bad, but mostly because we are told to keep our heads down and work hard. So we do. But where does that get us? Thankless hours of labor and work, the model minority myth, abuse that is largely ignored, let alone the abuse that comes with having parents who pass down their generational tra...

I was pleasantly surprised by Untamed . I've been ruminating on how to review it for a bit because I had and have so many varying thoughts, while reading it, in between reading it, and after reading it. There were moments when I thought Doyle is a mad scientist and thinker, others when I cringed, and some when she really made me think about my worldview and question all the labels and categories society has pushed upon me and I accepted as real, just the “way things are” which she refutes. I don’t agree with everything she said, but any book that makes me think as deeply as this one has my respect. I personally found the metaphor behind the title to be great and memorable, but I can see how some may find it cliché.  I expected this to simply be a motivational sort of book for good intentioned mid-aged women (shoutout Adele, who made an entire social media post about it), but she attempts to cover a vast amount of topics: feminism, addiction, eating disorders, race, parenting, socia...

I thought I’d give Roxane Gay’s most recently published work a shot despite previously reading and feeling ambivalent about her essay collection  Bad Feminist, due to its disjointed and unfocused nature. I have never read anything about body issues, eating disorders, or anything of the sort, so I was curious what this would entail. And I am so glad I did not put this book on the backburner or hesitate to read it, it was truly well written and carried an extremely important message. It’s times like these that make me so grateful for the existence of words and writing, as a means to view and understand others’ experiences so vividly, experiences I would have never been able to sympathize with if not for authors and writers' bravery.  Being a memoir, Hunger felt more cohesive and successful in conveying Gay's message to the world. Her pain. Her hunger. It feels as though Bad Feminist was just a prelude to the story she was keeping inside, waiting to be told, waiting for her to b...

This short volume was impactful as it is succinct, it’s obvious that this come straight from the soul and I commend Styron for attempting to convey and executing his desire to express the sheer pain he endured as a result of the spiral into extreme depression he experienced in his sixties. He is a very successful author, and his experience with depression is surprisingly common amongst artists and writers such as himself as he mentions in the book. He discusses his thoughts on the affliction that is surprisingly common yet little discussed or understood by the general population with a crystal clarity.  I’m grateful to have read this as an attempt to gain insight into the experiences of those who suffer(ed) from depression, or perhaps more aptly defined as melancholia by Styron, he reiterates that there is simply not a way for a person who has not experienced it to even comprehend the relentless mental and physical torment. He employs a lot of literary references such as Camus’ wor...

As an essay collection, I found Bad Feminist  valuable, the intro and conclusions were the most succinct regarding the title and what Gay means by it, which is also the most impactful and lasting sentiment of the entire book. I found what Gay has to say about trigger warnings and likability in female characters interesting, because why do we revere imperfect male characters as antiheroes but imperfect, “human” female characters as annoying? She also discusses the “weary woman”, sick and tired of the glazing over of male eyes when bringing up female grievances, begging for change and action ignored and diminished time and time again. Sacrifice at the expense of women seems never ending, in relationships and in life, biting tongues to keep the peace in trying to fit the mold of what a “good woman” should be seems to be the norm of our society. Does not fighting it make one a bad feminist? But when women reject complacency and voice all the innumerable ways we as a society fail women,...

I remember watching the video trailer for this book when it came out in 2017, and was enamored by the artistry of it. I was so inspired, and although I read his first book/memoir, Work in Progress at the time, I was unable to pick up Note to Self  upon release because the library was my only source of books, and it was too popular to get ahold of. So when I found this at a secondhand store, I was jolted back into my early teenage years, when I had held Franta and his writing in high regard as inspiration for my own writing journey.  While I was expecting his “highest of highs and lowest of lows” (I still remember those lines from the trailer giving me shivers) to be vivid, revelation worthy, shocking, or even twisted, a sort of glimpse into Franta’s mind and soul, but I received anything but. I was extremely disappointed by how shallow and soapbox-y his compiled observations were. On the back cover, he boasts that the book will contain him “spilled out on paper," but the thre...