the mecca for immigrants

A few weeks ago, I heard a racially insensitive joke about Asians. It was something along the lines of, the first thing Asians get when the come to America is a drivers license (umm, rude). However, I do think there is something immigrants from all countries get when they arrive to the United States...a membership to Costco.

Everyone loves Costco, but for people recently off the boat, it is like the holy grail of America, anything you could ever want, Costco almost always has it, from plasma tvs and portioned salmon flanks, designer purses and Dom Perignon.  Every Saturday and Sunday, Costco is filled with people of every race, nationality, and religion. They fill their carts up with giant packs of paper towels and giant bottles of olive oil. They diligently inspect the  green mangoes and ripe plums, mixing and matching from different containers to get the perfect dozen. They push and shove to get the first of the hot frozen pizza samples. They buy bulk items in bulk and don't hesitate to drop loads of cash on loads of mayonnaise.

I write from experience. While he isn't the most aggressive shopper, nothing brings out the FOB in my dad like Costco. He is constantly looking for excuses to go there, looking for things to buy. My dad in Costco is like a kid in a candy shop but worse, because he has a shopping cart. When he gets there, he looses track of time, he looses his ability to speak English clearly, and he looses his sense of reality in what we need and what we don't need.  If my dad goes alone, which he does more than he should, he will come home with non-essentials like Kimchi or a Power Washer, all in the name of a good deal. The only thing worse than my dad going to Costco alone is my yia-yah going there. I remember spending an agonizing four hours with her there as she stocked up on toliet paper, olive oil, and rubbing alcohol.

Why do immigrants love Costco more than anyone else? Is it the savings of buying in bulk? Selections they aren't used to having? The opportunity to experience the American way of living in excess?  It's all that and more. It's the space to roam freely and speak in one's native tongue with less eye rolls than the local supermarket. It's the opportunity to find almost anything you could imagine and things you couldn't even imagine. The freedom to buy whatever and however much you want. The ability to provide for your family in ways you didn't think existed.  A place where everything comes full circle, buy things for your newborn, your teenager, your newlywed, your retirement, and your funeral. Costco is like America, land of opportunity, upholding freedom of choice.

world cup fever!

i don't know a lot about soccer. everything i know, i learned from bend it like beckham. but what i do know, is i love the world cup! well, i actually really love major sporting events: the olympics, the world cup, the world series, stanley cup finals, i'm even watching the nba finals (and i know even less about basketball). when i can't watch the game, i am consistently checking my phone for updates. i even woke up early this morning just to watch a game. but why? why would i wake up  to watch a game i don't fully understand? the world cup doesn't frequently come up in my conversations, so i don't need it to be relevant. i think it's because i love sports and what sports can do. the world cup not only brings together people from all over the world but it is able to unite countries despite any internal turmoil. my love for the cup has less to do with soccer and more to do with rooting for the underdog, the potential feel-good sports story...and rooting for USA.

the end of an era

today i had to say goodbye to a part of my childhood. my cherished aim screen-name. even though i haven't used it in years, i never planned on ever deleting it.unfortunately a  spam hacker took over and started spamming the world and my address book (sorry yall). i will cherish my aim memories such as bsb chatrooms and 6th grade chats where i first discovered learned about PEN15.  i will never forget that one time when my class's foreign exchange student asked me to the school dance but i read it too late. i'll miss those seventeen magazine emails i used to get and that missy elliot chime. bye bye hockeyprincess. bye bye.