a mid-mid-life crisis

I was born at about 3:30AM (Beijing Time) on April 11th, 1988. Exactly 20 years later (NYC time), I was standing at the corner of 116th and Broadway, waiting for the M60 with a bunch of other table tennis players.

I’ve always thought that I’d have some kind of crisis when I hit 20. It’s a pretty monumental age, especially when you think of all the insanely brilliant things that have been achieved by great minds before they left their teens. In Chinese tradition, 20 is a pretty big deal. It’s supposed to signal adulthood, although if you were raised in a truly Asian fashion, your elders have probably expected you to act as an adult since the age of 15. My family drove down from Montreal two weeks ago, since they knew I was gone for my birthday, to bring me oodles of food and a birthday cake. A birthday face cake. As in, my face on a cake. Decorated with icing. Soon to be eaten. I’m sure there are few things in life less embarrassing (or heartfelt) than having your parents show up in your dorm hallway with a suitcase full of snacks and your face on a sheet cake.

Strangely enough, I don’t feel as unfulfilled or as useless as I thought I would. Maybe this has something to do with the fact that I made a point to go donate blood on April 10th, just so I could say that I have saved up to 3 lives before I entered my twenties. Or perhaps I am truly proud of my own accomplishments thus far, even though I may sometimes not realize it. In truth, accomplishments are hard to measure, because I never know how much they matter until I can see them support me from behind. I never realize how important what I’m doing is until I see it from afar. So although I’m not quite sure how good I’m doing right now…. I’d say that maybe, yeah, this is kind of a big deal.

Tags: birthday