A Soliloquy in the Form of a Typed Letter

I don't fall in love easily but when I do, it's with a ferocious fervor and passion I would never risk unless I knew it would be accepted. I tiptoe around potential questions waiting to be asked, for fear of rejection and unexpected outcomes I can never predict. I dig deeper into darkness when I lose my footing because it always feels like I can't get to my final destination like everyone else... Or so it seems. I feel powerful and in control when I get to be your utmost priority and appreciated when I'm not "just a girl you know." It disheartens me to learn of past lovers and stories of painful childhood. I relinquish in molten pleasure at the slightest hint of your smile. I feel loved when I can feel an emotional and intellectual connection through our words and whispers, not the entangled heap of bodies. It is far more significant to me to find out that you know how to speak another language and adore children, than to know how to play any instrument with mediocrity. I like cheesy lines that describe the beauty of my personality more than a gory dirty text message in the middle of the night. I feel loved when I wake up to find hand-written notes in code that only you and I could understand. I squeal with pleasure when you praise my cooking more than a smoldering stare at my naked body. I find you more sexy when you know how to incorporate food terms into a sentence with grace than a six pack down your abdomen. I am truly mesmerized by your wit and charm over your chiseled jaw line. I appreciate good manners and love that you would give your seat to an elderly woman or pregnant mother-to-be on public transportation. I liven up at the sound of popping corns and prefer my food bland. I love to watch movies and cry alone watching sad chick flicks, only to wish someone were there to hug me tightly until I stop crying. I feel loved when you stick around long enough to dry out my tears with laughter and kiss them away. I feel alone when I am neglected over a video game or a good sports game. I'm not a fan of games but I'm always willing to accept a challenge of Scrabble and will be more than satisfied by your depth of vocabulary over the size of your penis. I take words seriously and sometimes over analyze situations more than I would like to admit. But if you're willing to stick up for me when my best friend calls me a bitch, I'm game for a night out and maybe something more than just wine and cheese. I enjoy walking mindlessly for hours on end and will continue talking about something animatedly until you stop me, especially with topics like shoes, Star Wars, and food. My favourite reason for having someone around is to feel loved and it never fails to make me laugh when you smile at me with a mischievous twinkle in your eye. I'll lay down my life in a heartbeat if it meant my family or best friend would get to live, and I despise being lied to. Once you get me fuming mad, I like to be alone until I start feeling bad on my own. I will never leave you unless you deserve it, and I won't back down from a fight if it means keeping my food over my dignity. I love to eat while worrying about watching my figure, but you would be wise not to comment on my weight gain during strenuous periods of stress. I get stressed easily when it comes to the care of others, and I'll love you forever if my family loves you too. These are all the things I can say about myself, I don't like to lie or boast about accomplishments, unless I ate something incredibly delicious. I love to share, but if you eat my ice cream without warning, I will physically get violent without warning. Now that you have been warned, are you still up for the challenge?

Sincerely, Hanna Lee.

P.S. I will most likely find something to buy every month or every excuse of a holiday. You should stop me while you can and don't buy me flowers because I really think they are the most impractical gifts your could get a woman, unless you planted a whole garden just for my sake.

P.P.S. My favourite desserts are ice cream, cheese cake, waffles, and I will never say no to chicken.

P.P.P.S. I love it when someone leaves me a long voicemail if I don't pick up calls. I really enjoy writing down everything that sounds remotely important in lectures of any kind, and will smile proudly at you for praising my penmanship.

P.P.P.P.S. I love receiving hand written letters as much as I send them through the postal service! And when in doubt, always buy me shoes. I can never have too many. It is always a yes.

An Immigration Story: Part VII

Due to unfortunate circumstances, I now have to move my immigration story to my personal blog... I hope those of you that have been following my story to continue, although it may not seem as official (since it's no longer on the Law Firm's website). Thanks for reading! :)

The second mishap consisted of a girl named Stacey. She was a very mature looking black girl that got in trouble for small things every day. She liked to bother people in class, especially the quiet kids. She was definitely interested in me, because I was a new student and I was fairly quiet for the first couple of days. She picked on me and took my pencils and pens without asking and just smiled coyly when I was looking at her, astounded there was such a person who dared to take things without asking, in Canada! She was really just a bully that nobody really liked, and she wanted attention from the class. She liked to sing Alicia Keys’ and Beyonce’s songs aloud, and when I laughed at her for being silly, her face turned very somber. She would ask me what was so funny about her singing. I responded I have never heard that song before, so she would go back to singing her songs, because I didn’t know what songs she was singing anyways. She wasn’t the only black person in class, but she was the only mean black girl in class. She wouldn’t listen to anybody when they told her to stop being silly and behave herself, she wouldn’t pay attention to the teachers when they would talk to her in private, and she never listened to me when I would ask kindly for her to return whatever she took from me. I was quite angry one time and I marched right up to her to say, “Give me back my pen! It’s not yours and I didn’t give you permission to use it!” She looked at me curiously and smiled, cockily. She laughed by herself for a bit, and to my surprise, she returned my pen. I said thank you and returned to my seat. She kept staring at me for the rest of the class and I had a feeling she was beginning to like me. Surely she knew better than to assume I would become good friends with her, after harassing me so many times like that. But she did like me, and after that, she never touched my things. She started to yell at me from across the hall saying hi, and patting me on the back (pretty hard, too!) with her abnormal strength. She was an amusing person that did not know how to interact with others if she wanted to become their friend. She was so used to bullying everybody, it was hard for her to fit in as a normal girl. I did not help her, but she did stay out of trouble for a while. I’ll never know if that were due to me standing up to her or something that changed inside her. Either way, Stacey was never amongst the best of my friends, but I accepted her for who she was: a coy girl who really just wanted acceptance from her classmates through means of bullying and harassing others.