I Depress Therefore I Blog

So.... my dad called me last night, because he saw my blog entry on my Chinese blog regarding how overworked and tired I was from trying to overachieve. It's weird, because he probably ventures onto my blog every umm... three months and read the first entry he sees. I'm detecting that my mom (who reads my Chinese blog religiously) tipped him off.

Anyhow, my dad called me with a proposal to go back to the "budget" plan we had circa grade 7 and 8. The "budget" plan is an euphemism for "allowance", where I come up with a monthly budget and he tells my mom to give me the amount of money according the budget. Towards the end of gr.9 and starting in gr.10, I stopped the budget system because I started working. If there's one thing I take pride in growing up among nouveux-riches kids is that I'm able to earn enough money on my own to support whatever spending habit I have, instead of maxing out parents' credit cards, which is what the majority of my schoolmates do.

Of course I took it as an insult when my dad proposed to get me back on the allowance system again. I'm perfectly capable of earning enough money to support myself and supporting my hobbies. I was so hurt at my dad's non-confidence in me that I started crying; my dad hasn't seen me cry since my age was still an one digit number. My dad wasn't even listening, as usual, and just kept on lecturing me about how it is his responsibility to take care of me now and through college, and how I should enjoy life.

Sure, I get tired from my jobs sometimes, but for the most part, I enjoy it. I enjoy editing books and seeing my name on the cover of publications. I enjoy translating for the biggest foreign language publishing house in China. I even enjoy being mentored by Professor Yates, who for the most part is such a fun person. It's only natural that I get worn out from editing manucripts and reading them over so many times that I could almost memorize the whole book; and it's very normal to be stressed out before a big translation deadline; and of course it's fucking insane when Prof. gets on my nerves with his yelling and sarcasm. But I deal with all that and I love my jobs. I love being independent and setting myself apart from my schoolmates, who spend money like it's dust.

My dad just kept on apologizing for making me feel like I have to work because he needs an indepedent daughter to use as a bragging right. I don't care what he thinks, he doesn't even know me. Cumulatively, I barely spent two years with him in the sixteen years I've been alive. It doesn't make it right for him to give me allowance and make everything right. My mom asked if I was punishing him by not taking him money, and I said no. I love my parents, although they really get on my nerves most of the time. I'm grateful that my dad works 18 hrs a day just so my mom and I could live lavishly. I'm grateful my mom gave up her job as a university professor in China to accompany me to Canada to give me a balanced education.

They did everything for me, and I thought I was making them happy by being independent, and not spoiled. My dad answers to every one of my materialistic proposals, and never said no to me. I even felt cruel after adamantly rejecting my dad's budget proposal. He said he just wanted to do something for me, so I could enjoy life more.

Before hanging up, my dad gave me his email address and told me think about it. He said I can just email him my bank account information and he'll take care of it.

After talking to my mom, and crying a great deal more, I caved. I typed up my bank info and sent it, only to realize my dad gave me a wrong email address. Great, I thought, not only is my family dysfunctional, it's also illiterate. I called my dad, and he got Karen (his assistant whom I'm extremely close to) to sort things out with me. It turns out that my dad left out two letters of the email address. Sigh.

Oh. P.S. My dad isn't really illiterate, just computer illiterate. LOL.

I think I left out a major reason why I was pissed at my dad -- he wanted me to quit my jobs. Yeah, I guess that piece of information was kind of vital to understanding the whole fiasco.

Now that I've vented, I feel so much better. I really love my parents, and I'm glad they're not typical Asian parents who pressure me for stellar grades. My parents, I think, are very OPEN compared to most Asian parents. My mom's more whitewashed than I am, which can be scary at times. They're not homophobic and they don't have a problem with my writing or my thinking, and their number one concern is my overall happiness and confidence, not my grades.

I doubt that my dad is putting me on the same budget as when I was in grade 7 and 8, he specifically told me that this time it's not through my mom anymore, since I have my own account now. Because my budget that I came up for myself back then was like... $100/month. I mean $100/month isn't even worth wiring over; who the hell in their right mind wires $100/month internationally?! The banks would probably die laughing.