Pinkston

I'm not a Mom yet, but I imagine if I was, I'd be better with everyone else's kids than my own. My own wouldn't bother listening to me. They'd pull me into one of their long-winded arguments and know I'd end up saying yes anyways.

"Yes! Fine! I'm getting you Chick-Fil-A, dang it!"

I can hear us in the car now. The evening sky a dusty orange-rose, everything else blue. It would feel like deja vu, the same sky that a certain Michelle Pinkston and I drove under, somewhere in Vienna, WV, long ago, before I started my career and suddenly moved back to Houston. Before I really took care of their grandfather and truly lived it up in Houston. Before I fell in love with their Dad and became their Mom. And how could I say no to those chubby cheeks and chubby fists? 

I'm not even in that future, because tonight? Tonight, I rode along in Michelle Pinkston's car for a matinee showing of the Fantastic 4. She picked me up and dropped me home because yes, my car is still in the body shop. :( Now the movie was sooo good. Michelle has 2 grand-children and they are the cutest. They fight the way my little sister and I used to fight and just overhearing them, made me laugh hard. as. hell. It was too much of Yen and I.

The younger one, "Oh my god, did you step out there barefoot??"

The older one responded, "Yes."

"But there are so many diseases out there!"

The older one didn't hesitate, "YOU'RE a disease."

"Oh!"

And I laughed so, so hard in the front seat. Oh. My. Gosh, repeating softly as if I had been the one to say it, "you're a disease..." T___T

How did Yen and I ever mellow out to who we are today, because she and I were too much back then. We fought all the time, talked all the time. We were too much. All we wanted was to be good in front of strangers, but in private, I was a mean older sister too. T__T It made me adore Yen even more, for dealing with me and all my moods. For being persistent and persistently warm. >-< And always wanting to braid my hair ahh.

Sigh. Oh gosh. 

Anyways, this isn't really an episode. It won't be. It's just a vibe, that I have tonight.

Michelle is soft-spoken, incredibly patient. Incredibly kind woman, who sincerely spends lots of lovely money on her grandchildren and her kids. She isn't fully appreciated, but she is a stellar grandmother. Unable to say no to those darn grandkids and I get it. I'd have a hard time saying no to them too.

I just want a childhood to feel like a childhood, you know? Where everything feels easy, even when it's not. When your mother suddenly has an inspiration to buy clip-on jewelry from the 99 cent store when you're 6, so you can look all magical at a family's wedding, in the middle of the night, at 10 pm. 

I remember the late night drives back from Bellaire, with my Dad in the drivers' seat, no matter how drunk. Taking the wheel, and always convincing my mother that he's not too drunk, that in fact, the alcohol is making him even more alert. My little self believed all of it. 

I always felt safe, even with him drunk-driving. But he didn't lie. He never swerved, never sped up, never drove too slow when drunk. It was a perfect medium.

There's something so lovely being a passenger, not the driver haha, at night. That's when I feel like my mind's opened up. That's when I feel transported to that sweet time when everything still felt safe, when I felt like a small bean.

Perhaps that's why I always insist to my dates, even when yes, I do love to drive that I love being passenger princess. It reminds me of that time, when I didn't have to be big bean yet. When I could just hold onto an arm and curl up and make it home safe. Of course, I'm not going to trust just any nice guy. I want to trust the right one.

Tonight wasn't exactly that, because I prodded Michelle with questions. Prodded the little girls in the backseat enjoying their post-movie Chick-Fil-A. I kept their minds alive in the dark. 

"Can you hear us back there girls?" I asked.

"No, Grandma, can you speak louder? I want to hear about your car accidents too."

Awww. 

And so Michelle spoke about all the supernatural car accidents she's been in. Her body bore the brunt of 3 big ones. 

A supernatural one, included, where bumper-to-bumper traffic disappeared the moment her car started to spin 360 across 3 lanes. And yes, traffic disappeared at exactly that moment, and when she stopped spinning, her car stopped into a perfect parallel park alongside the highway. She hit no cars... at all. All the way down an incline. When she started pedaling, the traffic returned as if it had always been there, as if cars could disappear and come back. At exactly the moment you need them to. 

Gosh.

She was meant to live, but not just that. 

Michelle Pinkston is unconditionally loved by such great powers.

An unconditional love. A truly unconditional love so great, they had power of intervention.

I kept calling her a liar, just to make fun, but it was all serious what this story means to her.

I think we each have our own stories you know? The ones that remind us how loved we are. How seen we are, by the powers that be or by the ones we don't see but love us far too great.

The stories that remind us that we are not forgotten. We are important. Our life means absolutely everything. And so does our joy. She is so selfless, with abundant love in her body. And I always feel so seen. So confirmed that she would never judge me, would always think positively of me, and is a rock to all around her.

She is a pillar. And she is a person. And she is a Pinkston.

I prayed to her, in that car ride, sometime in the middle of it, that she make it out to Alaska one day. I wished that she could see the aurora borealis someday. I wished there was a gift she can gift herself to celebrate such a beautiful life with. As hard as I wished that I can swim alongside the whales one day, I wished quietly, that she sees Alaska. 

Episode 103: That's Ngoc

Our new class of PDAs joined us more than a month ago. 

For context, I'm a PDA too haha: a professional development associate. A year-long fellowship/internship program where I shadow all aspects of banking and pursue my own projects. The goal has been a permanent placement. It's been the loveliest time. It really has. I've met so many kinds of people. I've hit most of the Appalachian territories in my little green Subaru, heard so many stories of the white struggle out here, and really got to actually know and be attached to every individual I've met. I've really changed, as a person, in perspective, in the rear view mirror. I have belonged to no one but myself this past year. 

I'm not even your girl. 

Professionally? Dang, this girl has been nothing but a hit in every department she's rotated in. Nothing but a hit. I am adored. The word is "adored" and I feel it so deeply, you know? I'm not even an accountant, but our accounting team has really hugged me into their group. Every project I've helped on has been met with positive feedback, alike as it is in Risk Management, and alike as it is in Project Management. I've been a... what you call... "value add". Aheh.

I didn't get there easily. It's one thing to get a job and do it well and introduce yourself, shake everyone's hands and have people smile back. It's another to get to the level of walking into a room, without introducing myself, and everyone already knows who I am, and what I'm about, and how much they see me on their team already.

It's truly another worldly feeling.

I really didn't get here easily. And I know, I know I'm leaving for Houston in 2 weeks time. It hasn't hit me yet, but I am. I know that I've built up so much momentum for myself only to leave at my highest point. 

I'm not even at the dinner table, but Jana, my friend from Risk, overheard her Chief of Risk inquiring what my post-PDA plans are, if I'm still considering Risk? That I'm very bright and could be on any team. :) And yeah... Saundra had to break the news to him. :( I feel bad for making Saundra my bearer of bad news.

I learned that my friend from accounting, who happens to be Senior VP of Accounting, really vouched for my name in a remote opportunity with our Leasing line of business. An opportunity where I can work from Texas. Even if it didn't work out in the end, now I understand what she meant when she said she was working on something for me... Gosh. I just wanna hug her. I just wanna hug her lots.

I learned that the pickleball club I started has its own momentum of people who want it to live. People who are looking for indoor courts so that we don't have to be dependent on sun and rain anymore. People who are looking for a new leader and are sad I'm leaving too. :(

I came to work today, with a lunch plan scheduled by the accounting team, who never come in, haha, besides the end of a quarter or a bank audit. But they came in for me. Bearing gifts. Bearing the most perfect gifts, and the most perfect good-bye card, one that made me... cry. :(

Oh, Elizabeth. Gosh, Elizabeth. Thank you for letting me get to know you and care about you so much. So, so much.

I learned that Items Processing, haha, a team that I really just vibe with so hard are now the biggest supporters of pickleball, haha. I will never stop laughing about that. I will never stop loving that. The most outgoing people, you'd never know it. We are having a good-bye Wednesday dinner this week at my favorite restaurant in town. Gosh. I just want to... I just want to burst.

I learned that, well, my car! My car is getting back to me in time! I called them every day for a week and a half now, and that's gotten me... a lot of good results. Jeremy IS THE BEST. PIONEER COLLISION CENTER for the win. <3 It will come back to me nice and new for next week, for my move out of Ohio. GOSH. GOSH. I am... blown away. Everything is working out. Everything. Absolutely everything that I can think of.

Socially, I am abundant. It's the truest of truths. I am deeply in love with the abundant love in my life from people who used to be strangers, and who all love me now in all their truest forms. And who all want to actually get to know me.

Sushi all-you-can-eat-dinner and a theatre show with Austin and Kelly again. The night was warm, the little lights hanging from streetlight to streetlight once we left the theatre in fits of giggles, the way the air was scented with some specie of purple flower, and the way I felt so hugged by my emerald thigh-slit dress-- a part of me will always feel so beautiful, so stunning, somewhere in Parkersburg, West Virginia.

Socially, I didn't get here easily. When I started as a PDA, the PDAs that came before me never offered to do any joint things and any outings/plans made felt exclusive to the ones who already knew each other. I was getting accustomed to seeing pictures of the gatherings, not knowing where or when they had happened. Besides Gino, Ben, and a handful of others, the most important ones I should be getting along with felt like a wall, which is harsh, I know. But, it was hard to come from a traditionally all-women's college and feel feelings I never really had before, specifically with other gals. I really was so used to a sister-culture at Smith. Is it crazy? It felt like I was welcoming them to the PDA program, despite coming in later.

I remember the one-worded responses to my open-ended questions. I remember it was 90% me initiating, I did my best guys, I did my best.

At some point, as I was making friends in other departments, and then I remembered, "Dang, I'm very love-able, actually. Even a nail salon customer mailed me flowers all the way from Texas to my Ohio doorstep. >-<" So, from those realizations, and from trial and error, I pulled away the way they had, even if it was the moment they met me when they did so.

But the new PDAs, our new class just got here over a month ago. And they're all so sweet. Brock, Jordan, and Isaac. They're really all so kind to each other and I could feel how equal their energy exchanges were, each excitedly connecting about the next thing, and the next thing. Gino left earlier on, so as a-still-there PDA, I really did my best to make a welcoming atmosphere and truly get to know them. What brought them here? What do they like? To do? And why? And we'd vibe plenty, and if there's anything to do in town, I let them know.

I wanted them to know that I really cared about how they feel and help them ease into their first weeks here. 

Today, we left trivia, and the other older PDAs, from my class, couldn't make it. But the new PDAs, especially the ones that lived an hour away each, made it to Marietta for trivia. So our small little group vibed through the whole thing.

It would be my last time to see some of them. It really would.

At the end of the night, Brock kindly turned to me and said it was very nice getting to know me. That I would succeed no matter where I was.

And Jordan said something similar, that he felt so welcomed by my presence. That knowing I would also be in the office made him feel at ease.

Awww-- these babies!!

I think I did my job best I can, you know? I didn't have the best welcome coming here. I struggled with feeling like I belonged, but it was never about me. 

All I can do is make sure no one feels the way I did, as someone completely new to town, who knew not a soul, I never want someone to feel like they don't belong. I want them to feel good about themselves, and feel like, they're perfectly enough.

Because it's true too, you know?

Everyone is enough. Everyone is whole. And if you're hurting, it's okay. But I hope you'll always know that I care and that I care deeply about you and your success. It all means a lot to me.

And I'm here, if you ever need a little safety to fall on.

:) That's me. ^-^

That's the Ngoc that I've become for others here. It is in my design. And it makes me feel... so whole to know that I have enough energy to feed others and never feel like I'm drained.

Love is still the one thing that I can give away and still have more of. Love is always the answer.

Professionally, haha. Yes! Professionally.

And socially.

And spiritually. :) 

That's me! That's Ngoc haha. ^-^

this will be short

I left aquatic zumba, a little drippy, a strong sent of chlorine all over me. No bra, just dress, just towel, just one glow bracelet and one glow necklace on me. I felt like a little girl that just left a pool party. 

Well, yes, that's what it was. A pool party. Pitbull, latin music, Bruno Mars, that's how you know. 

I locked the car, the left bumper still damaged and seen even in the dark, and it's night. It was 10:30 PM, getting home.

I stood still in the middle of the red brick road, between my car and the curb, looking up at the sky. I felt my lips part, opening slightly in awe as I took in everything, absolutely everything around me. I felt like I was bleeding through time. I use the word bleeding a lot but my mind was rushing through time, as I stood still on that hill, like the first deer I ever saw that stood in the exact same spot. Perhaps the same deer that ate Maeghen's flowers. Or the same deer that ate everyone else's flowers. So I stood still, on this red bricked hill, and breathed through that nostalgic feeling. I remembered that it looked just like that, that darkness, those crickets, the tall grass, the stars, the same uneven cement steps, the duplex I rented, I remembered the pit in my belly that it was, "Oh, it is this. This is what I have to start my life with." It looked just as scenic as this the first time I arrived. I remembered the bags and bags in the car. I stared longer at the street corner where Sixth met Tupper St, and remembered what it was like to finally discover I could park my car overnight next to the cemetery, and how slow and sad my first walks home from work were. My ankle was less stiff back then than it is today. I had a boyfriend then whom made the trip with me and dropped me off. Jorge was probably as confused as I was, why I ever left Houston when he saw the sight, and was probably timing when was the best day to leave me. Maybe let himself care only enough about me, but not too much. Maybe let his mind wander to the colleague that called him at midnight, of all times in a day to call, and about whom, to me, when caught, he brushed off too easily. I never believed him when he said he felt nothing of her, not in the way her name often rested in his mouth. The gut feeling I had never changed. If any of those feelings stayed, and they did, then we were doomed. So with stupid feelings like that and a homesickness that lingered everywhere, I started from zero. I had no friends in town. I had no plans in town. 

I held a winter alone.

As I breathed in the heartbreak of that first nostalgia, I took in the crickets. Gosh, they're loud. And the stars are still there, bright as always. As many as I remember the first night, or that first winter, or that night I got back from the drag circus show haha with Maeghen and Austin and we laughed all the way home as I dropped them off, or the Halloween trick-or-treating night with little Sabrina before she could walk, or the night I crawled back to bed after pickleball and smiled myself into the sheets for being such a big girl and hosting a crowd, or at Enit's, where he didn't hold me for long but was warm regardless, or calling Yen or Ivanna or Elise late, late into the night, losing track of time as we got lost in each other's drama. That's what a night looks like in Marietta.

And I took it in. Gosh. I've come so far, truly. After seeing Cindy and Hannah tonight, another spontaneous plan. Their laughter tonight. Pitbull and Bruno Mars and Ariana Grande still pulsing through my little body, it wasn't the club. It wasn't anything like that. It was a little blip of time, where the sunset reverberated across a spray of clouds above, right above that beautiful pool, that I'll remember. I'll remember the way Cindy and Hannah looked at me, so kindly. So happily. The three of us softly teasing each other into giggles. I will remember tonight, like any other night. 

I'll remember Boondocks in McConnelsville. That mac and cheese hamburger scrambling to stay a burger. Jessica's beautiful smile across the table as I shared silly Houston stories. The same smile I put on Jing whenever I admitted that guns do feel like home, especially hearing them for New Years Eve, Christmas, and July 4th. An AK being an AK for the holidays was the one time it could be an AK. That's my hot take. Shove me out the door now. 

Ah, and my landlord and I. My landlord and I. She is a sweet woman. The best of the best. Creme of the creme. Kindest of the kind.

I am thankfully, not the blindest of the blind. #Lasik.

This whole little random bit that's not really even a blog episode feels like I wrote this after chugging my expired Chocolatini. But no. I didn't drink it tonight. And it's expired because I left it in the Subaru too long and only realized I probably forgot it for too long because I left work, only to see in a vast parking lot FULL of cars, at least 15 dragonflies swarmed ONLY my car. I managed to scramble through their fast, circling aggressive flight patterns to get in. And drive fast. But fuck, one dragonfly managed to chase me all the way to Star of India. And yeah. That's how I knew I fucked up.

I won't even drink it tomorrow night. I only drink if it's a chance to see Jana at the bar or tell Enit that he's too damn easy to read and that no, I won't go to Red Lobster with him even if the new CEO is hot, because I don't fuck with crawfish. Or lobsters. I'm sorry.

And Jana! Gosh. A break feels like a REAL break with Jana at work. She's my actual work friend. She makes me laugh alll the damn time. ALL THE DANG TIME. This woman is so charming, even when her little emotion's sign says she's probably "Exhausted". It's crazy. And when you have a work friend that's sitting across your boss BOSS at some obscure good-bye dinner for some lady, repping you up? Crazy. Fucking crazy. Jana is my goat. The goat. She picked me up from the body shop and took me to work with her because I am baby girl. I can be baby girl with Ms. Jana. I can be soft bean. 

I am tired. I AM TIRED of the lack of chances to be baby girl lately. It is PHENOMENALLY EXHAUSTING to be responsible all the time. I just want to be chased out of work and yelled at for not being baby girl enough. ENOUGH. 

Tell no one, but the moment I get home, I don't even take off my ankle brace. I turn the AC on high. I flick on my lights, and fall face down into bed with the room all bright, so I don't fall asleep at 5 and ruin my sleep schedule. My face buried into my blanket. Breathing is near impossible, and I swear, I could feel time be easy on me. I could feel all the tension melting into my sheets and running away. I could feel my eyeballs massaged by the pressure of the pillow I chose to fall on.

So guys, I'm still standing at the top of this hill. I'm still there, where that deer last was. I'm still reflecting. Follow me, will you?

I haven't gone anywhere, as I reflect how...

wow. I started with nobody. And in my mentoring call today, I told this incredibly established individual, this amazing woman, something I'm so proud about, "I knew not a soul coming into this town, into this great State of Ohio, but... now I'm leaving it with at least one hundred people who actually know me and care about me. That's how things have been like out here. :)"

I do. 

Rick, my favorite mailman, always asks me in third person, with that glint in his eye. Despite the fact that he ought to be retired, he lightly pitter patters everywhere across our bank providing mail. He always asks me in third person, looking on kindly "How is Ngoc doing today?"

If Rick happened to send me mail at that exact moment, at 10:30 PM on a Friday night, walking past me with his little mail cart, polite and cordial and wholesome, I'd answer him softly that, "I never would have expected to feel so full tonight. So, so whole. So deserving of every person who now cares about me. I feel like a very sweet little lady tonight, Rick. Stay out of trouble, too, little man."

So I climbed up those steps. Dodged the crazy fat bugs zipping in the tall grass. The chlorine on my body lingered, layering the flower-tea-ish scent of a cool summer night. 

This is all that I have, everything that I have, here in Marietta Ohio, to be very brief with you.

Episode 102: Postcard from Me

I can't write it all down. Not on a postcard. But if I could, I'd tell you about how it felt to make a "Bpah!" every time I hit the pickleball, in an unofficial beginner's league that I started here in Marietta. 

I made too many promises across my bank not to. I was too angsty, needed a Thursday evening plan too much, not to send the email out. Jana was my automatic duo, her easy, free-flying optimism and she were both my right hand. I'd tell you how much I smile to play alongside her, our energies connecting fluidly. 

I'd tell you how damn good it feels to yell profanities at my colleagues, in a public park.

I felt light as a bird saying "Fuck!" and "Shit!" and "Crap!" every time I missed a ball, right in front of the Risk Officer herself or whoever else was lucky enough to have gotten a ball past me.

I'd tell you about the way my ankle would cooperate, only swelling after the game, not during. For that, I'm grateful. 

I'd tell you about how everyone in Marietta enables my shenanigans. I wanted to name us the "Pebo Pickles" and everyone was immediately on board. I've created such a beginner-friendly club. People of all ages across our bank are joining. From the little lady that crawls under the table haha in Items Processing, to my friend Ben who always air guns me, to possibly, the Chief of Risk himself who emails me immediately if he can or can't make it. 

I've caught a couple Pebo Pokemons.

I wish I could fit into the same postcard Elizabeth, my friend in Accounting, and how much she believes in me. She calls me brilliant and hard-working and tells me I'm beautiful. And how clever she is, piecing together every idea that crosses my mind seriously. Like a little thought advisor. She happens to be the SVP of Accounting and it makes all the more sense. 

I want to write about the crazy time I discovered that my favorite online pilates instructor had a new athleisure line only available in Target. The nearest one to Marietta was 1.5 hours away and in Elizabeth's town, so in exactly 5 minutes, I texted miss ma'am and hatched a real plan to visit her home and get my ass carpooled to Target. 

I want to write about how freaking beautiful that whole day with Elizabeth was, from meeting her 3-year-old son who was the darn cutest and made me want to have a baby, haha. I kept saying, "awwww" in my head, to arriving at Target and realizing that none of the athleisure line was actually in store. I'd have saved a crazy 1.5-hour trip to Lancaster had I checked the Target app, but I'm glad my constant airheadedness led me to Elizabeth, into her car, into that TJ Maxx, trying on cute sunglasses until we each found a new pair.

In the same postcard, I'd tell you about how Jana almost didn't join our 2nd pickleball meet one afternoon. I felt her man. It was really hot that day. With just 2 hours before the club meet, she was the only duo that I wanted to play with. I told her gently but firmly, "We have somewhere to go. Let's get... a refresher from All Pro. Mhm, we're gonna do this. Let's go."

For all the little initial complaints Jana had about the heat, the moment her peach refresher got in her system, she was a new lady.

"Maybe... it's not too bad to go to pickleball today after all..." she looked at me slyly. I grinned. Pickleball wouldn't be the same without her, my favorite hooman.

I'd tell you about the tasty burgers that Kelly's family made that Sunday evening. I spontaneously drove over to her place after she kindly invited me and there, I met her husband's little sister, who was a rockstar at Mario. I felt bad about it after, but after noticing how her boyfriend didn't do shit for her while she limped around the house getting herself things, I put her little boyfriend on the spot when I asked him what his favorite things about her were, since they've been together for 1.5 years now. 

And he answered, "I like that she shares the same religion as I do. And that she'd make a great Mom."

The girl is 16.

I let the entire room guffaw at his answer and learned my own lesson maybe not do that again, but also, gosh, what the heck. That was supposed to be an easy question?!

I'd want to tell you about the delicious peach cobbler ice cream that quickly melted and ran down my hand. I licked most of it while gazing at the big yonder, the Ohio river, while Maeghen and her little girl, Sabrina, were with me. We talked about court systems and baby mama things and witchcraft. They're all connected, that's all I can tell you. And I can tell you, pushing a baby during peak shopping hours, got us a lot of warm attention. I tried to get Sabrina to interact with the other babies but this girl did not care about anybody elseee. She only cared about the scooter that some little boy skid past us on. 

I'd tell you about how much Elizabeth likes deep, dark rap. It threw me off, since she lived in such an isolated, scenic little place in Ohio. Never underestimate a pretty white lady in her 30s.

I'd tell you about my attempt at book binding. Gosh, don't remind me about my attempt at book binding.

I'd tell you about the big dent in my rear bumper. 

I'd tell you about how I hit an ambulance. Exhibit A: reason I have said-dent.

It was an ambulance on its way to the hospital too ;(. I'd know, because I've been to that hospital. And I'd know I was hit, because I was there, accelerating at the last possible second and got hit perfectly in the space between my left rear door and the left back light. The light still worked. The bumper flaps, unfortunately. Currently, two almost-melted rubber bands hold it together. I fucked up. I know.

The nice lady at the Autoparts store recommended duct tape instead. Thank goodness though, that all engine tests are green and passing; there was not one serious issue. Of course(!) my Little Bean passes her tests. I just... god I'm such a fucking idiot for hitting an ambulance. Little Bean has taken such such good care of me and I really messed her up. :( It's the almost-equivalent feeling of having my own dog ran over. Preventable.

I'd tell you about the really kind officer who wrote me off as a failure to yield. I remember imagining the ticket to be 1000 dollars or something, for hitting an emergency vehicle. :I

I'd tell you about how Jana brought me to the correct courthouse, since she used to work there, when I told her about paying for my ticket haha. We played mini-golf with her friend, the Judge, and I bet against him that, "If I make this hole right here? Can you waive my ticket, Judge?"

"We'll see," he answered calmly. Jana laughed.

I made the hole, and he said, "No." :(

Thank god it only came to $222. :D

I'd tell you about my lunches at Huck's with Jana. We'd take the window seat so we could people watch and they'd watch us too. I'd tell her all about the crazy shenanigans I get into at the Sunday trivia nights at our local bar. I told her about the rowdy man, who despite already having his own date, kept staring at me even when I sat behind him. Despite his drunken state, he had the gall to walk up to Austin, Kelly, and I, and advertise his friend who was drinking alone at the bar. He had the same amount of stupidity when he couldn't answer the simple question Austin asked, "wait, is the woman next to you, your date?"

He extra-pretended to be drunk. And when I repeated Austin's question for her, he leaned really close to my face, his eyes widened, a little too hungry about me speaking up. I repeated the question yet again. He leaned in closer. And he still couldn't answer. And again, maybe I shouldn't have, but I saw how his date instantly answered the question for herself, "shit, I'm nothing to you, aren't I?"

And when he realized he fucked up, or maybe in his head, that we fucked up his night, he looked both angry and lost at me. "See what you've done? I need a... I need a... here, shake my mind. At least shake my hand," while his date stood behind him, already needing to leave. I didn't shake his hand. My mind scrambled for a way to save myself tonight. With the trivia pen still in my hand, that moments ago I had commented how cute it was to everyone, I reluctantly sacrificed it to him. "How about this pen?" I asked. He slyly slid it behind his ear, "you know what, I'll take it." And left. A huge sigh of relief when he was gone. That he didn't take the same pen and stab me with it.

In the same postcard, I'd tell you about taking myself out on Tuesday evenings to matinee hour and watching How to Train Your Dragon and The Materialists. I cried in both. They were so incredible in their own ways and god, how much I love the way the seats deeply reclined. I was practically 150 degrees. I'd remove my boots and fold my knees up to my chest, a self-hug while I watched the big screen. Tuesdays are for hugging myself at the movies.

I'd tell you about my July 4th weekend in Houston. How my Dad asked me to drive him everywhere now that he couldn't. How happy I felt to be the family's taxi driver and hiding the very fact, the entire time, that just 2 weeks prior, I hit an ambulance. No one knows to this day, except Yen. And... Ivanna. And... Elise. And... a lot of people at work. 

After asking Gina, my former supervisor on a big project, if now that she knows I've hit an ambulance, if her thoughts on me have changed, she quickly laughed and nodded, "Nope, of course not, haha." I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

I'd tell you about how awesome I was when a total stranger infiltrated our pickleball group seamlessly. The young man looked sweet but took pickleball too seriously. He was clearly much more experienced than our beginner group, returning the balls really hard at our Day Ones. And he spent too much time explaining the rules to my friends/colleagues. 2 people left because of him. :( I noticed and called for a huddle, talked over possible new locations to play pickleball in, and turned to the young man, "I saw how you play. I think you've definitely played much longer than us here. The more experienced league is over there. We have many beginners here, so we're not a good match to your level. I think it's best you join the experienced league, but I'm glad you could join us briefly today." I offered a fist bump to the young man. He returned it and walked away calmly.

I remember feeling my pickleball group breathe a sigh of relief and everyone lightening up. And how at the very end of our pickleball time together, I could feel everyone see me in a different light.

I think to everyone, I'm a very bubbly, happy-go-lucky person, but in that moment, as things started to feel uncertain and uneasy all because of one person, they saw me step up. They saw the unleashed, hardened version of me, the one that's dealt with some shit, some kind of customer-facing shit, some kind of urgent-level shit, you know? My eyes were on the back of the gentleman leaving, but I felt everyone's eyes on me, just shocked. Ben looked at me wide-eyed, "Wow, that was really good customer service, Ngoc. Crazy." I grinned. 

So that afternoon, I unleashed my own version of a bite.

Because of pickleball, I have another definition to add to the word "leader". 

You protect, by making the hard decisions, all on the spot sometimes. You say the things that need to be said so that you can protect the peace.

I felt very proud of myself then as we all left happily, our last games felt light and I felt so connected with everyone, after we did our little chant, "On 1, 2, 3, go Pebo Pickles!" I felt comforted knowing that I really did have it in me to stand up to anybody, at any time. And that's the best feeling ever.

I'd tell you too about my flight back to Houston for July 4th weekend, when I was stopped at Cleveland TSA. I had bought 4 big bags of coffee and TSA scanned my bags, removed all my coffee, and started opening every single one. Even opening and leaving my suitcase wide open. They said I had dangerous ass things in the coffee bags, ingredients that would make a bomb, so they must go. I stayed there and said I'd like to see them re-test the coffee bags, because no way. No way.

They refused, especially the black officer who got so instantly frustrated with me, so hugely angry at me, for simply asking for a retest and that I'd like to see it. And that I'd like the exact reason for my coffee being confiscated.

He said, "No. No re-dos. That's the policy." And when I questioned his policy, he was like my Dad, instantly angry, instantly loud. Everyone could see me calmly receiving the end of it. I hated how unjustifiably loud and angry he was at me, for questioning the system that didn't let my small-town coffee beans through. 

"Young lady. You are on my last nerve," when I simply asked the singular, simple question of wanting to see them re-test. "I need a witness! You, TSA officer over here, come here. Witness how I'm telling this young lady no re-dos. That the computer found something and she can't take it in with her."

I asked him right back, "What do you think are in my coffee beans then? Why is it being held back? What did the computer say?"

He shot back at me roughly, "What do you think is in your coffee beans? YOU bought them, didn't you?" The whites of his eyes shot wide.

They had no grounds, not even an inkling of why they were held back for, except for the system raising a flag. They had already opened every bag of my delicious Ohio coffee that were meant for family and friends. I felt like tearing up, but I didn't. 

I've been through worse before. Someone on the outside would have seen how I didn't falter. How calm I was with the angry man, disproportionately angry to my questioning. I was a bug under his shoe, that's how it felt like. My panties and bras were in slight display, after they dug through everything I had. It felt so violating already. 

He gave me two options. Like a bitch that he was.

And I stood up, "I'm leaving the TSA line. It's for my family. They're gifts."

So I left the TSA line, limping away on my bad ankle, again, it's still bad. It sucks. I hated that day. And I checked my bag instead. And then it was all green from there, but still, little moments like that when I can deal with authority so calmly, my heart as smooth as silk, my heartbeat speeding up, but my mind rolling on, like a wave. 

Maybe it's a gift you know? Having already seen some of the worst already in my life, so that I can be out in the world and blink at the same rate. And still breathe okay, and self-soothe quickly, and take nothing personally. And get back to homeostasis quickly. I'm good at taking injustice, because it's a reflection of him, not me. So his anger was his and not mine to keep. 

This postcard is getting really long. 

Some of the last things I want to add are that, I also call my friends from Singapore. And because of me, we're going to start a real letter-writing chain. The 6 of us. Me, Neha, Naina, Garima, Nicholas, and Ian. All across the world, 4 different countries. The US, India, Singapore, and S. Korea. :)

It's going to be the best.

And another thing is, I'm scheming how to celebrate my 25th birthday. 

Quarter-life birthday. 

What to do. 

And another thing is, I'm moving back home to Houston, permanently. My family needs me, more than ever before. And my heart needs them back. We have a puppy. We have a Dad who's very sad. We have a very hardworking Mum. I need to be home to help put pieces together. We can't continue on as this disjointed family. This isn't the vision I had for us. And my joys are with them, even as I grow new joys. So you're probably wondering, why didn't I do this sooner? 

It wasn't the right time then. I still wanted to believe in my original bets. I still wanted to end up in Washington, DC. I love DC. I love that city still, but my compass has changed. I'm more sure than ever before. With or without a job lined up, I'm coming home. I've saved up enough. I'm still young. I'm capable. I'm really really smart. Like, really, really smart. And I'm someone you want to work with. 

I think those are more than enough reasons to bet on myself. No one else will, but I will.

There's enough proof in the way that people see me, speak of me, my reputation at the bank, so much so that the Gina of Peoples Bank, told my Chief of Staff, "Of all the Development Associates, I want to work with Ngoc the most."

And when Scott from Learning and Development, a much older gentleman who must be one of the most most pure of men, said under his breath, as I left his hometown, "A lot of PDAs I've seen, but you're my favorite Ngoc."

And to both Gina and Scott, I smiled. I don't have to be the favorite to be happy here, but it means something when people think so kindly of me. 

:) 

It means a lot to me, as I take on the next uncertain chapter of my life. 

Like the uncertainty of a Trump tariff, but also like the the certainty of TACO, I ease on, unafraid. Back to Houston. Back to family. Back to my roots. I'm a Houstonian for god's sake. I'm a little miss bean, yet I've driven on these Ohioian and West-Virginian hills enough times now to see how my richer my life has been when this non-linear timeline brought such sweet people into my life. Such sweet plans. Such sweet memories and exchanges of adult friendships and colleagues.

I'll never forget this past, life-changing year that I spent growing many beautiful things, out of nothing.

I'm a magician, you know? Because I feel it. I am loved. I am very loved. I am remembered. And I am adored, here in this small town. Gosh, what a gift it is for such things, such feelings, such memories to grow in my garden.

But August is almost upon us. Houston is almost here. The 20-hour drive back is wholly mine this time.

"Marietta. Ngoc and friends. Pickleball. Trivia. Elizabeth. Jana. Austin. Kelly. Cayla. Maeghen. Sabrina. PDAs. New lippie. Sips. Ambulance. Bar Man. Trump tariffs. Work. Car insurance. July 4th. No whales to be found. Waterpark. Huck's. Refreshers. Baby mama. August. Houston." On a postcard, maybe that's what I'll write for the months of June and July.