he comes back in the first break and says, "hey...this is fun!" and after all his matches were over, he gives me a thumbs up and says "hey sparkynoona - you're a great coach!" TOTALLY made my day, i love that kid
Monday, January 31, 2005
Saturday, January 29, 2005
surprises of the week
So Thurs. night Sr kicks me in the knee. The bad knee. The bruise is more spectacular than the one Jr gave me last week. Maybe he was jealous...haha. No but seriously - what kind of freak accident is that, getting back kicked in the knee two days before a tournament? =( Words cannot express how bad my room smells of BenGay at this moment.
So at 6am my phone rings. And I'm thinking:
a) "who the heck is calling me at 6am on a Saturday morning?"
b) "my knee freaking hurts, why am I sparring today?"
c) "aw crap, my alarm didn't go off, I have to get up!!"
So I drag myself out of bed, check my phone and call back.
(groggy voice) "Hello?"
"Hey, did you call me?"
"Um, yeah"
"WHY are you calling me at 6am on a Saturday morning???"
"You know, wake-up call. Wait, you said you had get up at 6am, right?"
Aw man. I love my kid. Sometimes they surprise you.
So at 6am my phone rings. And I'm thinking:
a) "who the heck is calling me at 6am on a Saturday morning?"
b) "my knee freaking hurts, why am I sparring today?"
c) "aw crap, my alarm didn't go off, I have to get up!!"
So I drag myself out of bed, check my phone and call back.
"Hey, did you call me?"
"Um, yeah"
"WHY are you calling me at 6am on a Saturday morning???"
"You know, wake-up call. Wait, you said you had get up at 6am, right?"
Aw man. I love my kid. Sometimes they surprise you.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
Monday, January 24, 2005
randomness
It's funny how you try so hard to get people to talk to you, and then they ignore you. And then when you just sort of give up, they talk to you. Makes no sense to me whatsoever. But I guess if interactions weren't natural, then relationships wouldn't be genuine.
***********
"Dylan thinks you don't want to play with him."
Aw MAN. I totally feel sucky. Nothing like the disappointment from a 5 year old to make you feel bad about yourself. So on Sunday during marathon lessons, Sabs come in with the boys to work Derek out for the tournament. I see these bundles come in the door, but I'm preoccupied with teaching someone. Suddenly this little bundle of black hair comes barreling across the mat into my leg. Good thing we have mirrors, he would have taken me out at the knees. I turned around just in time to catch him and throw him up in the air. I love that kid.
Anyways, so he kept hanging around, watching Julian's lesson, and wanting to play. So I told him I'd play with him in 5 minutes, in between Julian and Scott's lessons. Except when he came back about 10-15 min later, I'd already started Scott on ladders. So he kept wanting to play, and then Jr completely yelled at him for bugging me while I was teaching. I played with him for a little during a water break, but I guess it wasn't enough. And they left by the time I was finished with Scott.
So yesterday when I was working with Derek, he tells me that his brother thinks I don't want to play with him. Agh, poor kid. I feel like a horrible noona. I wonder if I can set up a playdate or something...haha maybe it'd be a good excuse to go ride the Ferris Wheel again at Toys R Us.
***********
Random quotes that I laughed over recently:
"Is he a red belt - I mean - black belt?"
HAHAHA. Seattle. That was such a fun trip. I miss d-crew.
"What is WRONG with my ass?"
What indeed. Haha...
"You and MTV need a serious sit down chat about the current state of your relationship."
MTV and I don't HAVE a relationship...
***********
"Dylan thinks you don't want to play with him."
Aw MAN. I totally feel sucky. Nothing like the disappointment from a 5 year old to make you feel bad about yourself. So on Sunday during marathon lessons, Sabs come in with the boys to work Derek out for the tournament. I see these bundles come in the door, but I'm preoccupied with teaching someone. Suddenly this little bundle of black hair comes barreling across the mat into my leg. Good thing we have mirrors, he would have taken me out at the knees. I turned around just in time to catch him and throw him up in the air. I love that kid.
Anyways, so he kept hanging around, watching Julian's lesson, and wanting to play. So I told him I'd play with him in 5 minutes, in between Julian and Scott's lessons. Except when he came back about 10-15 min later, I'd already started Scott on ladders. So he kept wanting to play, and then Jr completely yelled at him for bugging me while I was teaching. I played with him for a little during a water break, but I guess it wasn't enough. And they left by the time I was finished with Scott.
So yesterday when I was working with Derek, he tells me that his brother thinks I don't want to play with him. Agh, poor kid. I feel like a horrible noona. I wonder if I can set up a playdate or something...haha maybe it'd be a good excuse to go ride the Ferris Wheel again at Toys R Us.
***********
Random quotes that I laughed over recently:
"Is he a red belt - I mean - black belt?"
HAHAHA. Seattle. That was such a fun trip. I miss d-crew.
"What is WRONG with my ass?"
What indeed. Haha...
"You and MTV need a serious sit down chat about the current state of your relationship."
MTV and I don't HAVE a relationship...
the important thing - part 2
So one thing on the long list of things I learned from this whole experience (which I even bulleted in my essay) was how to have fun while sparring. I suppose this might be something that's just new to me, but especially in the last two weeks leading up to TT, despite the injuries, there were these moments while sparring Jr that I just started smiling. He grins all the time when he knows he's got me, but I guess it's only recently that it's been mutual. Actually wanting to beat someone without feeling the pressure to have to do it. Playing all the mind games and actually seeing how they work, without having to do the kicking - daring the other to move and then laughing at their mistakes. And hitting hard and scoring good points...it was just plain fun.
Jaac asked me the other day, "if you're only just now realizing this...then what have you been sparring for before?" I guess for a lot of people (namely, guys) sparring is what attracts them to TKD. It's the "fun" part, and they probably wish they could just spar all the time and not have to do forms and all the other stuff. Some people just like to hit each other, just like to beat someone else, whatever. But for me, none of that stuff was ever the driving force.
When we were at Pan Ams, Jimmy (my coach) asked me "why are you here? why do you compete?" And at the time, I didn't have an answer for him. Instead of giving me a pep talk or warming me up, he told me to "go walk around for awhile and figure it out". I thought about it a fair bit, and I guess I never really gave him an answer. Sure, I could think of answers - I'm here because I love to fight, I love to compete, I'm here to win - but those just wouldn't be true. At least, not for me.
When I was a color belt, I hated sparring. I was by no means good at it. I was a small girl in a class of predominantly big boys. (yes, there was a time when I was small). Crying wasn't anything new. I went to my first tournament as a blue belt and took a bronze in sparring, without knowing what the heck I was doing and just randomly kicking whenever I felt like it.
I don't know what made me keep competing. It wasn't because I was good at it. It wasn't about winning. I definitely didn't love to fight. Looking back, I think part of the reason I kept at it was *because* I wasn't good at it. It's a very important part of the package of Taekwondo, and you can't neglect it. It can't be everything, but it can't be missing, either.
I think one of the difficult things to understand is that I'm good. Because when I was younger, I wasn't "good". I probably wasn't terrible, at least no more than other kids around me - but I was never the superstar, not even close. I think that somewhere along the way, TKD just became integrated into who I am. It's not a matter of doing it to feel good or for exercise or for personal satisfaction...it just...is. Many of my life's lessons have been learned through it. And if you ask me why I do it, I don't know if I could really pinpoint one specific reason.
Then again, maybe I don't have to. Mrs. Sab and I were talking this weekend about Derek and the tournament, and I commented that I just wasn't sure if he liked it (TKD, competing) or not. And she said this: "It's not a question of liking it or not liking it. It just is. He eats. He sleeps. He does Taekwondo."
Mrs. Sab totally cracks me up, she's awesome. And when she said that, I laughed. Somehow it's not the same old Korean thing with duty before love - that it's not about enjoying what you do, that you do what you have to do. (Whole 'nother topic for another time). I laughed because it's so true that it's funny. And it was obvious - at least to me, that's what being a Taekwondoist is about. It's not about winning or losing, fighting or cowering, cheesy philosphy and all that aside - it just...is. I don't do it out of tradition, not because I've always done it without thinking about it - I re-evaluate almost monthly these days why I'm here doing what I do, living the way I live. But it's just a part of me and who I am. I eat. I sleep. I do Taekwondo.
But I guess just because you don't need to question why you do something doesn't mean that you shouldn't enjoy it. It doesn't always have to be one or the other - I guess it's OK to enjoy life. That everything that's good for you isn't necessarily going to be yucky.
Someone commented once that it was "intense" watching me and Sabs spar because most of the time we're just standing there staring at each other. I guess if you don't know us or know much about sparring, it can get kind of boring or confusing. Like "Wait, aren't they supposed to be kicking?" It used to be the most stressful part of my day. But now, it's one of the funnest.
so you want me to kick you?
if you can
are you serious?
just remember i will try and do the same to you. if you do it to me
haha i know, sr bruised my chin once
yeah i kind of don't like making you mad
its the best way to make me fight you hard
and you fight best when we fight you hard
so you WANT me to make you mad?
its more fun
hrmm ok. but if we all have black eyes when this is over...
maybe you, not me
i guess it's getting better but it's just kindof hard to kick you in the face. like, to make myself not pull it
lets see if you can do it first, and then we'll talk about pulling it
haha ok. so it's not disrespectful?
not at all.
ok. will you spar with me on thurs? after class?
yes
cool. i challenge you. haha
deal
got something to look forward to
Sadly, I lost the showdown 4-1. He dropped me with a punch. No black eyes, but I have a big purple welt on my arm with very distinct knuckle prints. But it was fun.
Life may not be a bed of roses, but there are moments that make you realize why it's all worth it. Sometimes, it's important to have fun.
Next Monday: Rematch!!!
Jaac asked me the other day, "if you're only just now realizing this...then what have you been sparring for before?" I guess for a lot of people (namely, guys) sparring is what attracts them to TKD. It's the "fun" part, and they probably wish they could just spar all the time and not have to do forms and all the other stuff. Some people just like to hit each other, just like to beat someone else, whatever. But for me, none of that stuff was ever the driving force.
When we were at Pan Ams, Jimmy (my coach) asked me "why are you here? why do you compete?" And at the time, I didn't have an answer for him. Instead of giving me a pep talk or warming me up, he told me to "go walk around for awhile and figure it out". I thought about it a fair bit, and I guess I never really gave him an answer. Sure, I could think of answers - I'm here because I love to fight, I love to compete, I'm here to win - but those just wouldn't be true. At least, not for me.
When I was a color belt, I hated sparring. I was by no means good at it. I was a small girl in a class of predominantly big boys. (yes, there was a time when I was small). Crying wasn't anything new. I went to my first tournament as a blue belt and took a bronze in sparring, without knowing what the heck I was doing and just randomly kicking whenever I felt like it.
I don't know what made me keep competing. It wasn't because I was good at it. It wasn't about winning. I definitely didn't love to fight. Looking back, I think part of the reason I kept at it was *because* I wasn't good at it. It's a very important part of the package of Taekwondo, and you can't neglect it. It can't be everything, but it can't be missing, either.
I think one of the difficult things to understand is that I'm good. Because when I was younger, I wasn't "good". I probably wasn't terrible, at least no more than other kids around me - but I was never the superstar, not even close. I think that somewhere along the way, TKD just became integrated into who I am. It's not a matter of doing it to feel good or for exercise or for personal satisfaction...it just...is. Many of my life's lessons have been learned through it. And if you ask me why I do it, I don't know if I could really pinpoint one specific reason.
Then again, maybe I don't have to. Mrs. Sab and I were talking this weekend about Derek and the tournament, and I commented that I just wasn't sure if he liked it (TKD, competing) or not. And she said this: "It's not a question of liking it or not liking it. It just is. He eats. He sleeps. He does Taekwondo."
Mrs. Sab totally cracks me up, she's awesome. And when she said that, I laughed. Somehow it's not the same old Korean thing with duty before love - that it's not about enjoying what you do, that you do what you have to do. (Whole 'nother topic for another time). I laughed because it's so true that it's funny. And it was obvious - at least to me, that's what being a Taekwondoist is about. It's not about winning or losing, fighting or cowering, cheesy philosphy and all that aside - it just...is. I don't do it out of tradition, not because I've always done it without thinking about it - I re-evaluate almost monthly these days why I'm here doing what I do, living the way I live. But it's just a part of me and who I am. I eat. I sleep. I do Taekwondo.
But I guess just because you don't need to question why you do something doesn't mean that you shouldn't enjoy it. It doesn't always have to be one or the other - I guess it's OK to enjoy life. That everything that's good for you isn't necessarily going to be yucky.
Someone commented once that it was "intense" watching me and Sabs spar because most of the time we're just standing there staring at each other. I guess if you don't know us or know much about sparring, it can get kind of boring or confusing. Like "Wait, aren't they supposed to be kicking?" It used to be the most stressful part of my day. But now, it's one of the funnest.
so you want me to kick you?
if you can
are you serious?
just remember i will try and do the same to you. if you do it to me
haha i know, sr bruised my chin once
yeah i kind of don't like making you mad
its the best way to make me fight you hard
and you fight best when we fight you hard
so you WANT me to make you mad?
its more fun
hrmm ok. but if we all have black eyes when this is over...
maybe you, not me
i guess it's getting better but it's just kindof hard to kick you in the face. like, to make myself not pull it
lets see if you can do it first, and then we'll talk about pulling it
haha ok. so it's not disrespectful?
not at all.
ok. will you spar with me on thurs? after class?
yes
cool. i challenge you. haha
deal
got something to look forward to
Sadly, I lost the showdown 4-1. He dropped me with a punch. No black eyes, but I have a big purple welt on my arm with very distinct knuckle prints. But it was fun.
Life may not be a bed of roses, but there are moments that make you realize why it's all worth it. Sometimes, it's important to have fun.
Next Monday: Rematch!!!
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
the important thing - part 1
Patty: Herb, there's no disgrace in losing to this team.
Herb: Yeah, I know.
Patty: The important thing is, you got this far.
Herb: The important thing? [Pause] The important thing is that those twenty boys know in twenty years, they didn't leave anything on the table. They played their hearts out. That's the important thing.
-Miracle
**********************
I guess in the aftermath, I know that what's important isn't necessarily winning or losing. And that you can't help circumstances, whether they be injuries or refereeing or whatever. Jr says that I was robbed in the last match, and who knows, maybe he's right. Even a few months ago, I would have been satisfied with just that - with knowing that despite the fact that I lost, that I had pleased them. But now that they've forced me to fight for myself, that means that I have to be pleased with my own performance. And even though I still value their opinion greatly, and even though him articulating what I speculated but didn't want to say for fear of sounding like a sore loser makes me feel validated - it still doesn't change the outcome.
They (whoever "they" are) say "it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all." I guess in the end, the cheesy saying is true. I suppose it's better to have given it your all and be heartbroken than to not know how much heart you really have.
Love is an interesting thing. Particularly with the atrocious Hallmark holiday coming up and decorations everywhere, I think we're oftentimes fooled into thinking that it's this warm and fuzzy feel-good thing. That it's about red hearts and gifts and holding hands and being romantic...
But it's not.
True unconditional love is about none of those things. It's about sacrifice. Enduring. That when you see someone or something for who or what they really are - nothing changes. It's easy to love someone or something when everything's great. But the question is, how much do you love it when everything sucks?
It was easy to love Taekwondo when I was on a winning streak. When things seemed to fall into place, when I'd come back from a tournament with a medal to pass around, when I have the most popular class at the dojang and the color belts ask me when I'd be teaching, when Scottie and Adolfo and James would sit on the side and cheer for me when I sparred and do the Panda Dance to make me laugh, when Sabs would tell me they're proud of me and glad to have me here, when I'd come into the dojang and Daniel's face would light up and he'd come and give me a big hug and a kiss hello, when I could come in and kick hard and train hard and hit the pads well and know that I've got something special.
Who wouldn't love something if it was always that good?
But it's not always that good. In fact, sometimes it downright sucks. Sometimes it sucks when it's the end of a long day and all you want to do is sleep but you have to go train. When you tear your knee and don't know when it will get better but you have to do intense physical therapy just to have half a chance. When the competition dates are so close together and when it all rides on one tournament after another until you're cut. When you can't get enough sleep at nights between all the therapy and training and work and teaching so you're always fatigued. When no one comes to the dojang to support you and train with you because they "don't feel like it". When your coaches seem so far away and distant and don't care about your pain, when they verbalize it and then don't understand why you're upset. When you go to a crucial competition and you give it your best shot and put your heart out there on the line despite all the odds - and fail.
When it's all said and done - was it worth it? Does it continue to be worth it?
Absolutely.
I think that one thing I realized from this whole ordeal is that love is not about what feels good. It's about what happens when it feels absolutely awful. That one rainy Sunday night (and of course it had to be rainy and gloomy and cold) after Liza had gone back to Boston, James was still in Maryland, Sabs hadn't replied to my questions of whether they'd be coming in to help me, and Adolfo decided to just stay home even though James had repeatedly told him to go and hold for me - I had taught for 5 hours and my last student had just left. And I sat there in the dojang, by myself on the mat, and thought "well...what now?" It was 5 days until I was scheduled to leave for Colorado, I still couldn't kick with my right leg, and the only way I could kick at all was by having a solid target and no one was there.
So I just turned up the music, started doing jump rope drills, went through some ladders, and then just started shadow sparring in front of the mirror. I worked out by myself for nearly 2 hours, and despite the fact that it was one of the loneliest times of my life - somehow it was OK. Because when it all came down to it, despite my knee and all the relational issues with everyone else - being barefoot on the mats in front of the mirror and just moving was what it was all about. That even if no one was there for me and no one was pleased or disappointed by how I did - it wouldn't matter.
Maybe this is what Sabs were talking about with everyone having to find their own journey. And I'm still trying to figure mine out as I go. I remember walking home with Jr one night, and he told me about his knee problems. In the end he said this: "if I could go back and do it all over again - I wouldn't change a thing."
Yes, there are consequences to what we do. When I'm 40, I will probably also have arthritis in my knees and not be able to spar hard more than a few times a week - if even that. Let's factor in that he's a man and by 40 I'll have gone through childbirth some number of times so it'll be even harder for me to stay in good TKD shape. I will probably go through many more arguments and misunderstandings with Sabs, and disappointments with teammates. I will endure more losses, some legitimate, some not. And I know I will have many many more bad kicking days when it seems like nothing is going right.
"Christina, at the end of the day, all of this was a great experience. Through the injury, you have started to develop a new set of weapons for your arsenal. By intelligently pushing through the pain, you have found and exhibited great inner strength, and my brother and I have learned to more intelligently coach and train you. Through the breakdown in communications with us, all of us were able to learn a thing or two about effective communication, and how to optimize our relationship. I know it was a long and difficult and frustrating month, but in the end you persevered and I am very proud of how you fought, and am happy even though you didn't medal because you were a fighter out there. You know that that's always meant more than where you place on the bracket sheet."
I wonder if that's what Herb would have said if his team had lost.
Some accomplishments can be measured by medals and trophies and team spots and points scored. And then there are those that are measured by hardships and pain and other intangible things. But if it means I've become stronger and more versatile and have earned their respect - then it wasn't a waste. Like I've always said - you learn a whole lot more by losing than you do by winning. And learning isn't supposed to be easy.
In the end, truly loving something is being able to look back, in spite of pain and heartache, and to be able to say "if I could go back and do it all over again - I wouldn't change a thing."
That's the most important thing.
Herb: Yeah, I know.
Patty: The important thing is, you got this far.
Herb: The important thing? [Pause] The important thing is that those twenty boys know in twenty years, they didn't leave anything on the table. They played their hearts out. That's the important thing.
-Miracle
**********************
I guess in the aftermath, I know that what's important isn't necessarily winning or losing. And that you can't help circumstances, whether they be injuries or refereeing or whatever. Jr says that I was robbed in the last match, and who knows, maybe he's right. Even a few months ago, I would have been satisfied with just that - with knowing that despite the fact that I lost, that I had pleased them. But now that they've forced me to fight for myself, that means that I have to be pleased with my own performance. And even though I still value their opinion greatly, and even though him articulating what I speculated but didn't want to say for fear of sounding like a sore loser makes me feel validated - it still doesn't change the outcome.
They (whoever "they" are) say "it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all." I guess in the end, the cheesy saying is true. I suppose it's better to have given it your all and be heartbroken than to not know how much heart you really have.
Love is an interesting thing. Particularly with the atrocious Hallmark holiday coming up and decorations everywhere, I think we're oftentimes fooled into thinking that it's this warm and fuzzy feel-good thing. That it's about red hearts and gifts and holding hands and being romantic...
But it's not.
True unconditional love is about none of those things. It's about sacrifice. Enduring. That when you see someone or something for who or what they really are - nothing changes. It's easy to love someone or something when everything's great. But the question is, how much do you love it when everything sucks?
It was easy to love Taekwondo when I was on a winning streak. When things seemed to fall into place, when I'd come back from a tournament with a medal to pass around, when I have the most popular class at the dojang and the color belts ask me when I'd be teaching, when Scottie and Adolfo and James would sit on the side and cheer for me when I sparred and do the Panda Dance to make me laugh, when Sabs would tell me they're proud of me and glad to have me here, when I'd come into the dojang and Daniel's face would light up and he'd come and give me a big hug and a kiss hello, when I could come in and kick hard and train hard and hit the pads well and know that I've got something special.
Who wouldn't love something if it was always that good?
But it's not always that good. In fact, sometimes it downright sucks. Sometimes it sucks when it's the end of a long day and all you want to do is sleep but you have to go train. When you tear your knee and don't know when it will get better but you have to do intense physical therapy just to have half a chance. When the competition dates are so close together and when it all rides on one tournament after another until you're cut. When you can't get enough sleep at nights between all the therapy and training and work and teaching so you're always fatigued. When no one comes to the dojang to support you and train with you because they "don't feel like it". When your coaches seem so far away and distant and don't care about your pain, when they verbalize it and then don't understand why you're upset. When you go to a crucial competition and you give it your best shot and put your heart out there on the line despite all the odds - and fail.
When it's all said and done - was it worth it? Does it continue to be worth it?
Absolutely.
I think that one thing I realized from this whole ordeal is that love is not about what feels good. It's about what happens when it feels absolutely awful. That one rainy Sunday night (and of course it had to be rainy and gloomy and cold) after Liza had gone back to Boston, James was still in Maryland, Sabs hadn't replied to my questions of whether they'd be coming in to help me, and Adolfo decided to just stay home even though James had repeatedly told him to go and hold for me - I had taught for 5 hours and my last student had just left. And I sat there in the dojang, by myself on the mat, and thought "well...what now?" It was 5 days until I was scheduled to leave for Colorado, I still couldn't kick with my right leg, and the only way I could kick at all was by having a solid target and no one was there.
So I just turned up the music, started doing jump rope drills, went through some ladders, and then just started shadow sparring in front of the mirror. I worked out by myself for nearly 2 hours, and despite the fact that it was one of the loneliest times of my life - somehow it was OK. Because when it all came down to it, despite my knee and all the relational issues with everyone else - being barefoot on the mats in front of the mirror and just moving was what it was all about. That even if no one was there for me and no one was pleased or disappointed by how I did - it wouldn't matter.
Maybe this is what Sabs were talking about with everyone having to find their own journey. And I'm still trying to figure mine out as I go. I remember walking home with Jr one night, and he told me about his knee problems. In the end he said this: "if I could go back and do it all over again - I wouldn't change a thing."
Yes, there are consequences to what we do. When I'm 40, I will probably also have arthritis in my knees and not be able to spar hard more than a few times a week - if even that. Let's factor in that he's a man and by 40 I'll have gone through childbirth some number of times so it'll be even harder for me to stay in good TKD shape. I will probably go through many more arguments and misunderstandings with Sabs, and disappointments with teammates. I will endure more losses, some legitimate, some not. And I know I will have many many more bad kicking days when it seems like nothing is going right.
"Christina, at the end of the day, all of this was a great experience. Through the injury, you have started to develop a new set of weapons for your arsenal. By intelligently pushing through the pain, you have found and exhibited great inner strength, and my brother and I have learned to more intelligently coach and train you. Through the breakdown in communications with us, all of us were able to learn a thing or two about effective communication, and how to optimize our relationship. I know it was a long and difficult and frustrating month, but in the end you persevered and I am very proud of how you fought, and am happy even though you didn't medal because you were a fighter out there. You know that that's always meant more than where you place on the bracket sheet."
I wonder if that's what Herb would have said if his team had lost.
Some accomplishments can be measured by medals and trophies and team spots and points scored. And then there are those that are measured by hardships and pain and other intangible things. But if it means I've become stronger and more versatile and have earned their respect - then it wasn't a waste. Like I've always said - you learn a whole lot more by losing than you do by winning. And learning isn't supposed to be easy.
In the end, truly loving something is being able to look back, in spite of pain and heartache, and to be able to say "if I could go back and do it all over again - I wouldn't change a thing."
That's the most important thing.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
miracles
Wow. There are some RICH people in Manhattan. (And I'm definitely not one of them).
So what I want to know is - why these people are paying tens of thousands of dollars a year to send their kids to these private schools that have INCOMPETANT TEACHERS. Goodness gracious it's so atrocious.
But I've decided that miracles can indeed happen and perhaps my calling in life is to be a physics tutor. I had a 2 hour session with this girl who had an emergency request before her midterm tomorrow, and at the end, she totally retook a quiz she failed and aced it. That's why I love teaching - you get satisfaction so much faster than like, the 50 years it'll take to see if this water tunnel leg gets built.
If I pick up any more students it's going to be abundantly clear that it's far more lucrative and satisfying to do this than work a normal job...but no, it would kill my parents. Maybe if I found them that Perfect Korean Man then they'd let me slide on the vocation thing...haha OK NOW we're talking miracles...
So what I want to know is - why these people are paying tens of thousands of dollars a year to send their kids to these private schools that have INCOMPETANT TEACHERS. Goodness gracious it's so atrocious.
But I've decided that miracles can indeed happen and perhaps my calling in life is to be a physics tutor. I had a 2 hour session with this girl who had an emergency request before her midterm tomorrow, and at the end, she totally retook a quiz she failed and aced it. That's why I love teaching - you get satisfaction so much faster than like, the 50 years it'll take to see if this water tunnel leg gets built.
If I pick up any more students it's going to be abundantly clear that it's far more lucrative and satisfying to do this than work a normal job...but no, it would kill my parents. Maybe if I found them that Perfect Korean Man then they'd let me slide on the vocation thing...haha OK NOW we're talking miracles...
Monday, January 17, 2005
my frivolous weekend
So for two days, I forced myself to be a normal 20-something. I moved all my lessons, Rich came to town, and I made myself leave the apt. and have fun. Geez, I must be a workaholic or a hermit, because even my doorman commented "wow, you're going out twice this weekend!"
This having fun business...sure is tiring! And I got sick as a result, boo...but I got to do a lot of things I don't normally do.
1) STOMP - great show. Similar to Nanta (Cookin') but with an urban setting. I think I liked Nanta better, but still...would highly recommend it.
2) church - Well as long as I moved all my lessons, figured he could come to church with me. We went to check out my cousin's church which just started a contemporary service. It wasn't half bad, actually. Been so long since I've had praise music, that alone made it worth it. Pastor Mark is no Tim Keller...not even close. But the people were nice even though the church was tiny. And I missed being around Koreans.
3) MoMA - I usually don't like museums, and was kind of groaning on the inside when I asked him what he wanted to do and he said go to the MoMA. And I generally dislike all things modern. But I actually enjoyed it. Yay for culture...if you call that culture. There were definitely retarded things like a canvas painted in one color.
4) WS dinner/party - Weird seeing everyone wearing nice clothes. I'm sure they were just as weirded out that I wasn't in a ponytail.
Flyboy. HAHAHA...I will remember that for the rest of my life.
************************
Flyboy. HAHAHA...I will remember that for the rest of my life.
************************
Tournament signups are at a record high. I'm so pleased. =) And I'm super excited that Derek is going. (Sr's son). Apparently I'm supposed to be coaching and training him for it, which is totally ironic. Coaching my coach's kid. But a wise move on the part of Mrs. Sab - being coached by your father puts too much pressure on both of them. Far too potentially traumatic.
Mrs. Sab: "Christina noona's going to teach you how to spar. She's going to coach you like Daddy coaches her. Ooh you better be careful because all that aggression against Daddy's going to come out and you're gonna get it!"
Hrmm. Now I have to undo the trauma from THAT statement. But really looking forward to working with him, should be fun!
Thursday, January 13, 2005
tutoring and FUN
I picked up another tutee last night. I guess people have been referring me as a physics tutor and I got a desperate phone call for a crash course now that midterms are coming up. What am I, a miracle worker? You can't expect to see me the night before your midterm and miraculously understand things you've been struggling with all semester. I hope she does some major studying between now and Tuesday...
As with any sort of teaching role, though, I think I learned a lot from this tutoring experience. At least with respect to the material, it's so much more intuitive. I'm a little apprehensive about the spring, though, because I haven't looked at E&M in forever. I don't even think I remember which fingers mean what in the right hand rule. (And the inner dork sighs...)
This is going to be my weekend of having fun. No work. No lessons. (Well, OK, just a couple). Being a normal 20-something and having FUN if it kills me. Rich is coming to visit me! And Ryan and Sandra are coming next week!
I will have FUN. And sleep. And not work out. And eat good food. (Though I should stop drinking so much Coke...I love Coca Cola...)
As with any sort of teaching role, though, I think I learned a lot from this tutoring experience. At least with respect to the material, it's so much more intuitive. I'm a little apprehensive about the spring, though, because I haven't looked at E&M in forever. I don't even think I remember which fingers mean what in the right hand rule. (And the inner dork sighs...)
This is going to be my weekend of having fun. No work. No lessons. (Well, OK, just a couple). Being a normal 20-something and having FUN if it kills me. Rich is coming to visit me! And Ryan and Sandra are coming next week!
I will have FUN. And sleep. And not work out. And eat good food. (Though I should stop drinking so much Coke...I love Coca Cola...)
Sunday, January 09, 2005
just not enough
Cox: "Thanks for giving me a shot, coach."
Herb: "Thanks for giving me your very best."
-Miracle
**************************
That part of the movie was probably the first time I almost cried. You had to feel for Cox, the guy who wasn't necessarily the standout player but obviously had skills, and above all gave his very best.
I still remember being traumatized back when I was a junior, and a certain professor with a heart of stone told me to my face "I know this is a lab class. You have the highest lab grades in my sections and if you added up the points you would probably rank higher than the other people - but because you were only average on exams, you were the last person to be cut off the "A" list...because I just don't think you deserve an "A"."
I remember now what it feels like to try to make it on effort and just simply have it not be good enough.
Well, it would have been nice to have been a success story - one of those tales that you tell your competitors about how hard work and determination is enough to overcome any obstacle.
But sometimes, it isn't. Sometimes you give your very best given the circumstances you're in, and it just isn't enough.
It's a harsh reality, but that's exactly what it is - reality.
Well, first off, praise God that I'm still walking. Stuff hurts, some more than others, the knees (yes both of them) hate me and my foot might be fractured - but it's not anything that drugs and rest won't heal. Hopefully.
What's disappointing is that despite all that I went through to overcome the odds, it wasn't enough. And I can console myself that it was one heck of an experience and that I'll be stronger because of it and that I tried my best and that's what counts, that I gave it my all so I won't regret it - but in the end what it comes down to is that despite all that went into this - I lost. I fell short by a ridiculously small margin. A margin that could have easily been overcome, had I had two good knees.
I couldn't have rehabbed my knee any harder than I was already doing. I couldn't have trained any more without totally ignoring my job and other responsibilities. I couldn't have kept that stupid emotional lockbox locked for very much longer. It was a Herculean effort - at many times alone, and grateful for the times that I wasn't - but when it is all said and done, that's what my year is: done.
So this is what heartbreak feels like.
So. Utterly. Exhausted.
Herb: "Thanks for giving me your very best."
-Miracle
**************************
That part of the movie was probably the first time I almost cried. You had to feel for Cox, the guy who wasn't necessarily the standout player but obviously had skills, and above all gave his very best.
I still remember being traumatized back when I was a junior, and a certain professor with a heart of stone told me to my face "I know this is a lab class. You have the highest lab grades in my sections and if you added up the points you would probably rank higher than the other people - but because you were only average on exams, you were the last person to be cut off the "A" list...because I just don't think you deserve an "A"."
I remember now what it feels like to try to make it on effort and just simply have it not be good enough.
Well, it would have been nice to have been a success story - one of those tales that you tell your competitors about how hard work and determination is enough to overcome any obstacle.
But sometimes, it isn't. Sometimes you give your very best given the circumstances you're in, and it just isn't enough.
It's a harsh reality, but that's exactly what it is - reality.
Well, first off, praise God that I'm still walking. Stuff hurts, some more than others, the knees (yes both of them) hate me and my foot might be fractured - but it's not anything that drugs and rest won't heal. Hopefully.
What's disappointing is that despite all that I went through to overcome the odds, it wasn't enough. And I can console myself that it was one heck of an experience and that I'll be stronger because of it and that I tried my best and that's what counts, that I gave it my all so I won't regret it - but in the end what it comes down to is that despite all that went into this - I lost. I fell short by a ridiculously small margin. A margin that could have easily been overcome, had I had two good knees.
I couldn't have rehabbed my knee any harder than I was already doing. I couldn't have trained any more without totally ignoring my job and other responsibilities. I couldn't have kept that stupid emotional lockbox locked for very much longer. It was a Herculean effort - at many times alone, and grateful for the times that I wasn't - but when it is all said and done, that's what my year is: done.
So this is what heartbreak feels like.
So. Utterly. Exhausted.
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
my super duper encouraging coach
Sr: "Well, so we've got a new arsenal to work with"
me: "Is that going to be enough?"
Sr: "Well, that's all we've got!"
Totally one of those things where the caption should be "oh. was that out loud?"
me: "Um, you didn't answer my question..."
Sr: "Oh yeah...you'll be fine."
Hrmm. Maybe it's better if he just ignores me. Maybe I don't want to know what he really thinks most of the time...hrrrrrrrm.
T-minus 3 days.
me: "Is that going to be enough?"
Sr: "Well, that's all we've got!"
Totally one of those things where the caption should be "oh. was that out loud?"
me: "Um, you didn't answer my question..."
Sr: "Oh yeah...you'll be fine."
Hrmm. Maybe it's better if he just ignores me. Maybe I don't want to know what he really thinks most of the time...hrrrrrrrm.
T-minus 3 days.
really annoying losers
I hate when random people IM me. It's like an invasion of my privacy. What's even more annoying is when they IM you and want to talk to you, and you don't know who they are, and they won't really TELL you who they are and how they got your sn.
Some girl IMed me last night and proceeded to try to have this whole conversation without really telling me who she was. She claims that she did TKD with me back at my original original school when she was 11. I totally don't remember her. But that's fine, there have been a great number of unmemorable people who have passed through my life. From what little information she was willing to give me about herself, it appears that she's a year or two younger than I, started TKD a year after, and quit.
When I asked how she'd gotten my sn, she gave vague answers like "from a friend". Upon my inquiries, she told me I was "pushy". Well, I like my privacy, and I want to know who mutually knows us. If someone's going to be referring me, then you would think that they'd be someone who talks to me. Else, how does he have my sn, is he just stalking me?
If you're IMing someone who's a long lost someone from your childhood that you're going out of your way to talk to - then don't you think you would want to catch up? Share some information? What is this deal with wasting my time with a conversation where when I ask a question, you ask me the same question back without answering it? What's the point of talking, then, if I don't know who I'm talking to? And she wasn't too informative regarding the past that we supposedly shared together, so for all I know she could have looked up my bio somewhere.
Does my reasoning not make sense? And then she has the rudeness when I had to go to sleep to tell me "yeah you should sleep maybe you'll be less crabby tomorrow."
WHO IS THIS FREAK??? Who has time to harass someone that they don't even know?? I barely have time to talk to the people I DO know, why am I wasting my fingers typing to you?
First time I ever exercised the blocking function on AIM.
Some girl IMed me last night and proceeded to try to have this whole conversation without really telling me who she was. She claims that she did TKD with me back at my original original school when she was 11. I totally don't remember her. But that's fine, there have been a great number of unmemorable people who have passed through my life. From what little information she was willing to give me about herself, it appears that she's a year or two younger than I, started TKD a year after, and quit.
When I asked how she'd gotten my sn, she gave vague answers like "from a friend". Upon my inquiries, she told me I was "pushy". Well, I like my privacy, and I want to know who mutually knows us. If someone's going to be referring me, then you would think that they'd be someone who talks to me. Else, how does he have my sn, is he just stalking me?
If you're IMing someone who's a long lost someone from your childhood that you're going out of your way to talk to - then don't you think you would want to catch up? Share some information? What is this deal with wasting my time with a conversation where when I ask a question, you ask me the same question back without answering it? What's the point of talking, then, if I don't know who I'm talking to? And she wasn't too informative regarding the past that we supposedly shared together, so for all I know she could have looked up my bio somewhere.
Does my reasoning not make sense? And then she has the rudeness when I had to go to sleep to tell me "yeah you should sleep maybe you'll be less crabby tomorrow."
WHO IS THIS FREAK??? Who has time to harass someone that they don't even know?? I barely have time to talk to the people I DO know, why am I wasting my fingers typing to you?
First time I ever exercised the blocking function on AIM.
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
t-minus 4 days
"men are dumb, and women are evil"
I've heard this before, and definitely seen how men and women complain about each other. But...IT'S SO TRUE!
Now, women may be manipulative - but on days like yesterday I have to say...the cluelessness sometimes makes it so that you HAVE to be. *sigh* I don't understand how when I say what I mean outright, it won't register, but when we go in circles, they give me what I wanted in the first place. I guess it's just learning how to get what you want, but that makes me feel so manipulative.
Such a foreign language.
I've heard this before, and definitely seen how men and women complain about each other. But...IT'S SO TRUE!
Now, women may be manipulative - but on days like yesterday I have to say...the cluelessness sometimes makes it so that you HAVE to be. *sigh* I don't understand how when I say what I mean outright, it won't register, but when we go in circles, they give me what I wanted in the first place. I guess it's just learning how to get what you want, but that makes me feel so manipulative.
Such a foreign language.
Sunday, January 02, 2005
t-minus 5.5 days
People should respond to emails. Particularly if they have blackberry's strapped to them and aren't limited by not being in front of a computer all day. Particularly if it has to do with scheduling and time. Particularly if someone needs to train and there's no one who lives in this city that's willing to help and the only person who did came from out of town to do it. (I repeat, Liza is super duper awesome).
Nevertheless, I trained for 2 hours by myself today, after teaching for 5 hours. Someone needs to fix the heater in that dojang, it's freaking cold. But there's really a limited number of things that you can actually do on your own without actually kicking something. *sigh*
And people should call to check up on their friends when they know that they're upset. This whole "I dont' know what to do so I'm going to not do anything" business is really unhelpful. It's not about saying the "right" things - it's about showing that you care. And if you care, all by yourself, and don't show it, then it's equivalent to not caring because the person doesn't KNOW you care. Because last I checked, ignoring someone isn't an indication that you care.
Nevertheless, I trained for 2 hours by myself today, after teaching for 5 hours. Someone needs to fix the heater in that dojang, it's freaking cold. But there's really a limited number of things that you can actually do on your own without actually kicking something. *sigh*
And people should call to check up on their friends when they know that they're upset. This whole "I dont' know what to do so I'm going to not do anything" business is really unhelpful. It's not about saying the "right" things - it's about showing that you care. And if you care, all by yourself, and don't show it, then it's equivalent to not caring because the person doesn't KNOW you care. Because last I checked, ignoring someone isn't an indication that you care.
no pain, no gain
As I get older (gosh I sound like a halmo) I'm seeing the difference between wants and needs. And how when they conflict, you have to do what is needed over what is wanted. (Or not wanted, as the case may be). I think this is one of the hardest positions to be in - when you realize what you must do but know that it will involve pain or sacrifice or something likewise unpleasant. Looking back at 2005, I feel like this year was characterized with learning how to endure pain and face irrational fears with a greater purpose and end goal in mind.
In short - making mature and responsible decisions. Not that I claim to be neither mature nor responsible, but in this in-between state of the mid-20's, I see both sides of the equation. At least, more clearly than I did before.
This popped up rather unexpectedly last week, when I jumped back into training mode and found my hamstrings in clear rebellion and in need of help. I'm talking moseying-like-a-cowboy, unable-to-reach-anywhere-near-my-toes kind of rebellion. It wasn't pretty.
My help was found in one of the other masters at the dojang: Mr. Lim the master stretcher. The man has a way of stretching hamstrings that gets you deep in your muscles, right to your limit when you think something's going to tear...and then lets you go to writhe on the floor trying to recover.
On one hand, nothing feels better than that feeling right after a good stretch. It's so 'shi-wun-heh' (no Korean on this computer)...refreshing? renewing? I can't express in English how good the feeling is. But it's so good, especially after you tire your muscles out with a good hard workout.
On the other hand - it's some of the most intense and excrutiating pain I've ever felt. And coming from someone who does a sport where the objective is to hit and be hit...that' s saying something. These 5-10 minutes of what I affectionately call the "Mr Lim Torture Sessions" run the gamut of emotions from wanting to saw off my own leg to wanting to take a nap.
The thing with Mr Lim is, you have to be careful what you ask for, because he doesn't do anything halfway. The man has absolutely no feelings of sympathy or pity - no guilt whatsoever about inflicting pain. I think the real reason why his stretching is so effective is because...he just doesn't care how much you scream and beg to be released...he won't let your leg go until he's gotten every last millimeter of stretch out of that muscle.
Particularly when I'm ramping up for a competition and working out hard so that my legs and hips are constantly shocked into tightness, stretching with Mr Lim is key to maintenance. Unpleasant, but key. I've scared many a white belt who have witnessed this, because even when we're contained in the glass sealed PeeWee room, there's a visceral reaction to fight it, screaming all the while. And by screaming I don't mean the way that I make sudden shrieks when something surprises me...like when I drop a piece of food on the ground. I'm talking about the verbal expression of pain that only comes from deep inside your gut when something is just THAT unbearable. It is, in fact, torture.
It's easy to see the value in training because there is one overarching purpose - to win. Everything you do or don't do is designed in layers that overlap to get you to your goal. And not everything is pleasant or 'fun' - in fact, much of it is just plain hard work. They don't cliche it 'blood, sweat, and tears' for nothing. But oftentimes it's in doing the things that you don't want to do and enduring initial pain that leads to increased performance.
As I look back on 2005, I'm seeing more clearly that it's often been in the times of pain, frustration or imcomprehension that I've been 'stretched' the most. Tearing my knee made me a better fighter. Having hard conversations with overbearing parents forced me into confrontation and helped me grow into my role of authority. Losing my temper and asking for forgiveness was humbling.
Ultimately, all this 'stretching' was merely growing pains. Sometimes willingly, oftentimes unwillingly...taking 2 steps forward and 1 step back...but always moving forwards. And though it's been excrutiatingly painful at the time that it's happening...you can't really learn and grow without it. And when looking back weeks, months, maybe even years later - it finally makes sense and feels good.
Stretching is funny like that - because in the end, you can't stretch yourself anywhere near as well as when someone else stretches you. It's physically impossible. But that someone better know what they're doing!
Mr Lim never works on my hamstrings unless I ask him to. Even though I fight it, there has to be a base level of cooperation to make any progress. When I think about it, I'm putting a crazy amount of trust in him, that he's not going to break my hamstring (which is the most valuable muscle for kicking!) I guess I'm admitting that he knows better than I do where my limits are and what's best for my legs. Even when it hurts.
I often ask God why things happen (it's that annoying little kid in me - I just have to know). But I think most of the time, He doesn't tell me because if I really knew...I wouldn't go through with things because I'd be too fixated on the unpleasantries at hand. But there's comfort in knowing that He knows better than I do where my limits are and what's best. Even when it hurts.
Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. -Philippians 3:13-14
T-minus 5 days.
In short - making mature and responsible decisions. Not that I claim to be neither mature nor responsible, but in this in-between state of the mid-20's, I see both sides of the equation. At least, more clearly than I did before.
This popped up rather unexpectedly last week, when I jumped back into training mode and found my hamstrings in clear rebellion and in need of help. I'm talking moseying-like-a-cowboy, unable-to-reach-anywhere-near-my-toes kind of rebellion. It wasn't pretty.
My help was found in one of the other masters at the dojang: Mr. Lim the master stretcher. The man has a way of stretching hamstrings that gets you deep in your muscles, right to your limit when you think something's going to tear...and then lets you go to writhe on the floor trying to recover.
On one hand, nothing feels better than that feeling right after a good stretch. It's so 'shi-wun-heh' (no Korean on this computer)...refreshing? renewing? I can't express in English how good the feeling is. But it's so good, especially after you tire your muscles out with a good hard workout.
On the other hand - it's some of the most intense and excrutiating pain I've ever felt. And coming from someone who does a sport where the objective is to hit and be hit...that' s saying something. These 5-10 minutes of what I affectionately call the "Mr Lim Torture Sessions" run the gamut of emotions from wanting to saw off my own leg to wanting to take a nap.
The thing with Mr Lim is, you have to be careful what you ask for, because he doesn't do anything halfway. The man has absolutely no feelings of sympathy or pity - no guilt whatsoever about inflicting pain. I think the real reason why his stretching is so effective is because...he just doesn't care how much you scream and beg to be released...he won't let your leg go until he's gotten every last millimeter of stretch out of that muscle.
Particularly when I'm ramping up for a competition and working out hard so that my legs and hips are constantly shocked into tightness, stretching with Mr Lim is key to maintenance. Unpleasant, but key. I've scared many a white belt who have witnessed this, because even when we're contained in the glass sealed PeeWee room, there's a visceral reaction to fight it, screaming all the while. And by screaming I don't mean the way that I make sudden shrieks when something surprises me...like when I drop a piece of food on the ground. I'm talking about the verbal expression of pain that only comes from deep inside your gut when something is just THAT unbearable. It is, in fact, torture.
It's easy to see the value in training because there is one overarching purpose - to win. Everything you do or don't do is designed in layers that overlap to get you to your goal. And not everything is pleasant or 'fun' - in fact, much of it is just plain hard work. They don't cliche it 'blood, sweat, and tears' for nothing. But oftentimes it's in doing the things that you don't want to do and enduring initial pain that leads to increased performance.
As I look back on 2005, I'm seeing more clearly that it's often been in the times of pain, frustration or imcomprehension that I've been 'stretched' the most. Tearing my knee made me a better fighter. Having hard conversations with overbearing parents forced me into confrontation and helped me grow into my role of authority. Losing my temper and asking for forgiveness was humbling.
Ultimately, all this 'stretching' was merely growing pains. Sometimes willingly, oftentimes unwillingly...taking 2 steps forward and 1 step back...but always moving forwards. And though it's been excrutiatingly painful at the time that it's happening...you can't really learn and grow without it. And when looking back weeks, months, maybe even years later - it finally makes sense and feels good.
Stretching is funny like that - because in the end, you can't stretch yourself anywhere near as well as when someone else stretches you. It's physically impossible. But that someone better know what they're doing!
Mr Lim never works on my hamstrings unless I ask him to. Even though I fight it, there has to be a base level of cooperation to make any progress. When I think about it, I'm putting a crazy amount of trust in him, that he's not going to break my hamstring (which is the most valuable muscle for kicking!) I guess I'm admitting that he knows better than I do where my limits are and what's best for my legs. Even when it hurts.
I often ask God why things happen (it's that annoying little kid in me - I just have to know). But I think most of the time, He doesn't tell me because if I really knew...I wouldn't go through with things because I'd be too fixated on the unpleasantries at hand. But there's comfort in knowing that He knows better than I do where my limits are and what's best. Even when it hurts.
Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. -Philippians 3:13-14
T-minus 5 days.
t-minus 6 days
주님뜻대로 살기로 했네
뒤돌아서지 않겠네
이 세상 사람 날 몰라줘도
뒤덜아서지 않겠네
어떠한 시련이 와도 수많은 유혹 속에도
신실하신 주님 약속 나 붙들리라
세상이 이해 못하고 우리를 조롱하여도
신실하신 주님 약속만 붙들리라
결코 돈아서지 않으리
Some boast in chariots, and some in horses; but we will boast in the name of the Lord our God. -Psalm 20:7
뒤돌아서지 않겠네
이 세상 사람 날 몰라줘도
뒤덜아서지 않겠네
어떠한 시련이 와도 수많은 유혹 속에도
신실하신 주님 약속 나 붙들리라
세상이 이해 못하고 우리를 조롱하여도
신실하신 주님 약속만 붙들리라
결코 돈아서지 않으리
Some boast in chariots, and some in horses; but we will boast in the name of the Lord our God. -Psalm 20:7
Saturday, January 01, 2005
새해 복많이 바드세요
Dangit, I don't know if I'm spelling that right.
Well, that was quite an experience. I've never actually thrown a party before. Well, not a party centered around alcohol with people getting drunk all around. Not that I really threw it because it was all my roommates' doing and nearly all their friends. We have so much crap in our fridge left, none of us are actually going to drink Bud and Miller. So if you want crappy beer, come on over.
Yes, I need to loosen up, but...I just don't really like having my living quarters invaded by people I don't know. It would have been one thing if they were all friends of Grace's and My's - I've met or heard about them, at least. But then when people start bring people (which I think is very rude if you don't inform the host that you're going to crowd their apartment with 5 more people)...then it got hairy. I mean, what do I know about these people? Not just whether they would steal or break something in the apartment, but on top of all the alcohol going around, you never know what people will do.
I was dying until Cha, Liza, and Ripan got here. Like, literally looking at the clock every 2 minutes hoping it'd hit midnight so all these people would go home. Not sure where the party-pooper came from but...I worked a full day, I was sick, and I could have gone to any number of other New Year's Eve celebrations with MY friends or coworkers.
Anyways, once I had people to talk to it was cool. Yay for Liza, Ripan, and Cha! Even though the freak security guard tried to get everyone to pay to go up on the roof, we got up there anyways. If I had the patience, I would sue him because that's just retarded. Your useless ass is getting paid to stand there all night and keep drunk people from wrecking the apt building (which happened anyways judging by all the bannister railings that were torn off in the stairwells) - I'm very sure it's illegal for you to be trying to charge a fee for the residents who pay RENT in this place to go up on our own roof.
SO...the grand conclusion of my New Year's Eve experience:
*Despite the fact that on the outside I'm the racist one of the apt - all of Grace's friends were Asian. Mostly Chinese. Liza was the token white person. Therefore, I'm not the resident racist. =)
*Remy is gross. Burns more than soju going down. Which is why most of it went down the drain.
*Raspberry vodka is also gross. Or whatever that was.
*Vanilla coke is extremely gross. I have no idea what was mixed in but that Coke was no good.
*I think someone hit on me but I'm not sure. As much as my friends tell me that if someone ever DID hit on me I'd be too clueless to know...this guy was giving me a lecture on why dating is like economics. Well, at least his attempt was somewhat intelligent. I can appreciate nerdiness.
"So why don't you have a boyfriend?"
"Dunno. Just haven't met the right person."
"Ah, so you're picky."
"Eh. Yeah, maybe I'm expensive."
"See, it's like supply and demand. You have to let the market know that you're out there. What do you do? Where do you meet people? You go to work. You go to Taekwondo. You go to church. If those markets haven't resulted in a buyer, then you have to find a new market."
"That takes so much effort. Besides, if I find a new market and find a buyer, then he's going to have to come to MY market anyways."
"Well maybe you should be less expensive."
"Yeah...maybe when I hit 30 I'll lower my price."
Dude. So for one thing - I'm not a product on display. For another thing - buyers should come to the store, the product should not have to go door to door looking for a buyer. Cheap products are bought by cheap people. Maybe finding a buyer isn't my sole purpose in life. Maybe if I just live life and grow from my experiences (RAWR why do I always sound like Sabs?) then I'll become someone who deserves to be expensive and someone with the means (not monetary) will make the purchase. But...I'M NOT A PRODUCT! Mmph. Not totally liking this analogy.
*Living in Times Sq. does have its benefits - we got to see the ball drop live. Confetti and all. Wow, the environmental engineer that I'm becoming was totally apalled at the waste of paper. Made me want to go out and hug a tree.
*New Year's Eve should be spent with people you love, and I'm glad to have spent it with my friends (well, and all these other drunk people who came along with that). My ultimate favorite New Year's Eve experiences are still Urbana 2000 and Urbana 2003...but then again, when else do you get to ring in the new year with 20,000 other people? 2002 was fun, at the Embarcadero in SF (lots and lots of drunk people) with pyang and the 떡국 adventures (never buy 떡 from a Chinese supermarket - drive the extra 2 minutes to the Korean market). But otherwise, I've slept through most other ones. It is indeed a time to celebrate and call the people you love and wish them well.
*Alcohol is still bad. I think I realized that I like alcohol in moderation in a celebratory setting (ie. not in drowning your sorrows) and only in the company of people that I like and trust. And having had the absence of such opportunities for quite awhile, my tolerance is shot. Sad.
Well, that was quite an experience. I've never actually thrown a party before. Well, not a party centered around alcohol with people getting drunk all around. Not that I really threw it because it was all my roommates' doing and nearly all their friends. We have so much crap in our fridge left, none of us are actually going to drink Bud and Miller. So if you want crappy beer, come on over.
Yes, I need to loosen up, but...I just don't really like having my living quarters invaded by people I don't know. It would have been one thing if they were all friends of Grace's and My's - I've met or heard about them, at least. But then when people start bring people (which I think is very rude if you don't inform the host that you're going to crowd their apartment with 5 more people)...then it got hairy. I mean, what do I know about these people? Not just whether they would steal or break something in the apartment, but on top of all the alcohol going around, you never know what people will do.
I was dying until Cha, Liza, and Ripan got here. Like, literally looking at the clock every 2 minutes hoping it'd hit midnight so all these people would go home. Not sure where the party-pooper came from but...I worked a full day, I was sick, and I could have gone to any number of other New Year's Eve celebrations with MY friends or coworkers.
Anyways, once I had people to talk to it was cool. Yay for Liza, Ripan, and Cha! Even though the freak security guard tried to get everyone to pay to go up on the roof, we got up there anyways. If I had the patience, I would sue him because that's just retarded. Your useless ass is getting paid to stand there all night and keep drunk people from wrecking the apt building (which happened anyways judging by all the bannister railings that were torn off in the stairwells) - I'm very sure it's illegal for you to be trying to charge a fee for the residents who pay RENT in this place to go up on our own roof.
SO...the grand conclusion of my New Year's Eve experience:
*Despite the fact that on the outside I'm the racist one of the apt - all of Grace's friends were Asian. Mostly Chinese. Liza was the token white person. Therefore, I'm not the resident racist. =)
*Remy is gross. Burns more than soju going down. Which is why most of it went down the drain.
*Raspberry vodka is also gross. Or whatever that was.
*Vanilla coke is extremely gross. I have no idea what was mixed in but that Coke was no good.
*I think someone hit on me but I'm not sure. As much as my friends tell me that if someone ever DID hit on me I'd be too clueless to know...this guy was giving me a lecture on why dating is like economics. Well, at least his attempt was somewhat intelligent. I can appreciate nerdiness.
"So why don't you have a boyfriend?"
"Dunno. Just haven't met the right person."
"Ah, so you're picky."
"Eh. Yeah, maybe I'm expensive."
"See, it's like supply and demand. You have to let the market know that you're out there. What do you do? Where do you meet people? You go to work. You go to Taekwondo. You go to church. If those markets haven't resulted in a buyer, then you have to find a new market."
"That takes so much effort. Besides, if I find a new market and find a buyer, then he's going to have to come to MY market anyways."
"Well maybe you should be less expensive."
"Yeah...maybe when I hit 30 I'll lower my price."
Dude. So for one thing - I'm not a product on display. For another thing - buyers should come to the store, the product should not have to go door to door looking for a buyer. Cheap products are bought by cheap people. Maybe finding a buyer isn't my sole purpose in life. Maybe if I just live life and grow from my experiences (RAWR why do I always sound like Sabs?) then I'll become someone who deserves to be expensive and someone with the means (not monetary) will make the purchase. But...I'M NOT A PRODUCT! Mmph. Not totally liking this analogy.
*Living in Times Sq. does have its benefits - we got to see the ball drop live. Confetti and all. Wow, the environmental engineer that I'm becoming was totally apalled at the waste of paper. Made me want to go out and hug a tree.
*New Year's Eve should be spent with people you love, and I'm glad to have spent it with my friends (well, and all these other drunk people who came along with that). My ultimate favorite New Year's Eve experiences are still Urbana 2000 and Urbana 2003...but then again, when else do you get to ring in the new year with 20,000 other people? 2002 was fun, at the Embarcadero in SF (lots and lots of drunk people) with pyang and the 떡국 adventures (never buy 떡 from a Chinese supermarket - drive the extra 2 minutes to the Korean market). But otherwise, I've slept through most other ones. It is indeed a time to celebrate and call the people you love and wish them well.
*Alcohol is still bad. I think I realized that I like alcohol in moderation in a celebratory setting (ie. not in drowning your sorrows) and only in the company of people that I like and trust. And having had the absence of such opportunities for quite awhile, my tolerance is shot. Sad.
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