Holiday Letter 2019
Dear family & friends: Happy Holiday Season!
2019 has brought many wonderful things to Ilse and her loved ones! This year, to the dismay of her family, Ilse became a vegan. She is happy to report exuberant bowel movements and a renewed sense of misplaced moral superiority. 2019 was also the year in which Ilse moved home from China, where she successfully avoided most human contact for 10 straight months, got lost on various mountains, accidentally ordered 117 meat-filled dishes, married and then divorced and then remarried the Mandarin language, and quietly radicalized herself further from inside the closet where she lived while simultaneously pretending she never talked about politics nor noticed anything remotely nefarious about the supreme leader of the motherland.
To back up, Cuong and Ilse rang in the new year of 2019 together in China by falling asleep at 7pm in her freezing apartment, which proved to be quite an auspicious beginning to the year. To back even further up, we have Chairman Mao to thank for drawing an arbitrary (and possibly drunken) line across the country decades ago like a slap-happy first grader, and proclaiming that all territories south of this line would go without central heating, including Wuhan -the capital of the northernmost Chinese province south of said line- which has the great privilege to freeze its collective ass off every winter. Because Ilse and Cuong are used to living in a state with winter-specific infrastructure, it was incredibly interesting when, after picking up Cuong from the Wuhan airport with crutches and a scooter on the night of the only snowfall in years, they whizzed down the deserted freeway at 3am, noting with tired alarm, that humans were currently shoveling snow off the freeway with...shovels. Welcome to China! In early 2019, Ilse, Cuong, and Cuong’s broken foot embarked on a tour of China together. What really happened is that China embarked on a bewildering tour of Ilse, Cuong, and Cuong’s broken foot, as they struggled to alight and disembark from various trains, mountains, and generally be mobile in the least ambulatory-friendly country on earth all the while being a walking/rolling apparatus of strangeness in a land where White women generally don’t respond in Chinese and Asian men generally don’t use knee-scooters or not speak Chinese.
Ilse, Cuong, and Cuong’s foot (among other body parts) now dwell happily in St. Paul, but not before Ilse’s mom, dad, brother, and sister-in-law arrived in Wuhan in March for 10 days in which they proceeded to attempt to order the correct food and drink for the subsequent 30 or so meals. In at least one instance, Ilse’s mom was offered a liter of Baiju- traditional Chinese whiskey that runs anywhere from 100 to 150 proof- in response to her request for a glass of red wine. There was at least one successful instance where the correct food and drink arrived, which was heartily noted. They also rolled up into Beijing during the weeks of parliamentary meetings and international women’s day, and were thus able to take in the sights of millions of women who all converged on the capital to go to the same tourist sites and stare at tourists.
Ilse emerged back into the hustle bustle of a Minnesotan summer with a newfound habit of drinking green tea and further damaging her inner organs from ingesting spicy food, in addition to 17 more gray hairs (which were, after all, no match for the graying scalps of her 19 year old students who spent the majority of their childhoods studying for a single standardized exam that can have a not insignificant bearing on their future income, life, and happiness). After spending a few months exclaiming, “Where are all the people?” while standing in various public places around the Twin Cities, and enjoying the various benefits of not being targeted for manslaughter by vehicles, Ilse got a job at a local community college, where they somehow pay her money to forget what an adjective clause is, over and over again, in front of her students. She is proud of the ability to use pseudo-socratic methods in order to give herself more time to answer questions that her students ask her. She has also been enjoying breathing air outside, which is not a statement or fact she would have ever before thought to include in a year round-up of accomplishments.
In more recent news, Cuong, Ilse’s roommate (see above) has recently purchased a floor cleaning robot that cleans the floor a little, but mostly gets stuck on various shoelaces, wires, and pieces of cat shit. Not one for unplugging, Cuong usually falls asleep each night while playing on his phone, and then is instantly awakened when it falls on his face. He has recently undertaken the task of cutting his own hair, since he has a uniquely strong fear of small talk. His most recent self-cut has resulted in something halfway between K-pop and punk, and which likely increases the number of, “So, what year of residency are you in?” questions that he gets. Winter is a good time for a Cuong-sighting, since his wardrobe changes rather aggressively to include a delightful assortment of sweaters, ranging from whimsical scandinavian reindeer herder to professor chic. He continues to be at the forefront of addiction medicine in the Twin Cities; more importantly, he continues to make excellent pickles, kimchi, and kombucha. Every time anyone open the fridge, which is basically a pickling factory, something falls out and nearly kills them, which as we all know, is quite a propitious symbol of something.
Together, Ilse and Cuong, and occasionally Cuong’s foot, are taking on the world! Every day, they put yoga mats on the floor, and flop around like deranged storks for HIIT, which is a modern-day version of what the Greek Gods used to stay swole in all seasons. They have also co-created a roommate band called “Tree Tree” wherein they choose easy covers with less than three chords to ruin. They feel as though their whimsical band name eases the trauma that many musicians might undergo when listening to them.
Speaking of trauma, Cuong recently attended an event that culminated with a group hugging circle. He had to hug 50 people. Ilse continues to remind him that there'll be a day in the future when they will be able to talk about it with humor.
Ferdie continues to be alive- Praise Be! Cuong has reported his age to be ‘20’ for the past four years, belying the fact that he is actually a goddamn-avocado-toast-eating millennial. Ferdie enjoys pooping and vomiting in recently cleaned parts of the house and sitting on or making out with Cuong’s face.
Onward and upward! Love, Ilse/Cuong/Ferdie
To back up, Cuong and Ilse rang in the new year of 2019 together in China by falling asleep at 7pm in her freezing apartment, which proved to be quite an auspicious beginning to the year. To back even further up, we have Chairman Mao to thank for drawing an arbitrary (and possibly drunken) line across the country decades ago like a slap-happy first grader, and proclaiming that all territories south of this line would go without central heating, including Wuhan -the capital of the northernmost Chinese province south of said line- which has the great privilege to freeze its collective ass off every winter. Because Ilse and Cuong are used to living in a state with winter-specific infrastructure, it was incredibly interesting when, after picking up Cuong from the Wuhan airport with crutches and a scooter on the night of the only snowfall in years, they whizzed down the deserted freeway at 3am, noting with tired alarm, that humans were currently shoveling snow off the freeway with...shovels. Welcome to China! In early 2019, Ilse, Cuong, and Cuong’s broken foot embarked on a tour of China together. What really happened is that China embarked on a bewildering tour of Ilse, Cuong, and Cuong’s broken foot, as they struggled to alight and disembark from various trains, mountains, and generally be mobile in the least ambulatory-friendly country on earth all the while being a walking/rolling apparatus of strangeness in a land where White women generally don’t respond in Chinese and Asian men generally don’t use knee-scooters or not speak Chinese.
Ilse, Cuong, and Cuong’s foot (among other body parts) now dwell happily in St. Paul, but not before Ilse’s mom, dad, brother, and sister-in-law arrived in Wuhan in March for 10 days in which they proceeded to attempt to order the correct food and drink for the subsequent 30 or so meals. In at least one instance, Ilse’s mom was offered a liter of Baiju- traditional Chinese whiskey that runs anywhere from 100 to 150 proof- in response to her request for a glass of red wine. There was at least one successful instance where the correct food and drink arrived, which was heartily noted. They also rolled up into Beijing during the weeks of parliamentary meetings and international women’s day, and were thus able to take in the sights of millions of women who all converged on the capital to go to the same tourist sites and stare at tourists.
Ilse emerged back into the hustle bustle of a Minnesotan summer with a newfound habit of drinking green tea and further damaging her inner organs from ingesting spicy food, in addition to 17 more gray hairs (which were, after all, no match for the graying scalps of her 19 year old students who spent the majority of their childhoods studying for a single standardized exam that can have a not insignificant bearing on their future income, life, and happiness). After spending a few months exclaiming, “Where are all the people?” while standing in various public places around the Twin Cities, and enjoying the various benefits of not being targeted for manslaughter by vehicles, Ilse got a job at a local community college, where they somehow pay her money to forget what an adjective clause is, over and over again, in front of her students. She is proud of the ability to use pseudo-socratic methods in order to give herself more time to answer questions that her students ask her. She has also been enjoying breathing air outside, which is not a statement or fact she would have ever before thought to include in a year round-up of accomplishments.
In more recent news, Cuong, Ilse’s roommate (see above) has recently purchased a floor cleaning robot that cleans the floor a little, but mostly gets stuck on various shoelaces, wires, and pieces of cat shit. Not one for unplugging, Cuong usually falls asleep each night while playing on his phone, and then is instantly awakened when it falls on his face. He has recently undertaken the task of cutting his own hair, since he has a uniquely strong fear of small talk. His most recent self-cut has resulted in something halfway between K-pop and punk, and which likely increases the number of, “So, what year of residency are you in?” questions that he gets. Winter is a good time for a Cuong-sighting, since his wardrobe changes rather aggressively to include a delightful assortment of sweaters, ranging from whimsical scandinavian reindeer herder to professor chic. He continues to be at the forefront of addiction medicine in the Twin Cities; more importantly, he continues to make excellent pickles, kimchi, and kombucha. Every time anyone open the fridge, which is basically a pickling factory, something falls out and nearly kills them, which as we all know, is quite a propitious symbol of something.
Together, Ilse and Cuong, and occasionally Cuong’s foot, are taking on the world! Every day, they put yoga mats on the floor, and flop around like deranged storks for HIIT, which is a modern-day version of what the Greek Gods used to stay swole in all seasons. They have also co-created a roommate band called “Tree Tree” wherein they choose easy covers with less than three chords to ruin. They feel as though their whimsical band name eases the trauma that many musicians might undergo when listening to them.
Speaking of trauma, Cuong recently attended an event that culminated with a group hugging circle. He had to hug 50 people. Ilse continues to remind him that there'll be a day in the future when they will be able to talk about it with humor.
Ferdie continues to be alive- Praise Be! Cuong has reported his age to be ‘20’ for the past four years, belying the fact that he is actually a goddamn-avocado-toast-eating millennial. Ferdie enjoys pooping and vomiting in recently cleaned parts of the house and sitting on or making out with Cuong’s face.
Onward and upward! Love, Ilse/Cuong/Ferdie
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