poor customer service part 2

3, 2, 1.
1, 2, 3.
What the heck is bothering me?

(Name that show).

Caffe Swish. That is what bothers me today. It's the only place on the UWS where you can get boba, as far as I know - stinking overpriced not-as-good-as-Lollicup boba. I ordered dinner from there tonight, solely for the purpose of getting boba (let's face it - their menu is just like Saigon Grill, except they have boba). And they bring me my dinner and there's no bubble tea in the bag.

So I call them right away and tell them that they've left out part of my order. The lady promptly tries to persuade me into an option of getting a credit for bubble tea on my next order. That presumes that there will BE a next order - I see through your clever little scam. You're too cheap to send your delivery guy back here with my boba, which I ordered and PAID FOR - and now you're going to use your mistake to make me order again?

No way.

I can't stand New Yorkers that try to pull my heartstrings. It's like they know I'm not from around here so they can gimmick me. Well I've lived here long enough to be impatient when I'm getting my leg pulled...So I go through the guilt phase, and then squash it to demand that they bring me my bubble tea that I paid for. She apologizes for the mixup, and says they'll send it right away.

Apparently "right away" is a relative term. So I called back after an hour of waiting to see what the holdup was and got a vague answer of "it's on the way". At this rate, they'd better have hand packed each of those tapioca bubbles and boiled them separately, because it's nearing my bedtime and I'm awaiting the piece de resistance of my dinner. Another half hour goes by and now I'm tired and extremely peeved. I don't even want the tea anymore, the last thing I need is something to keep me awake when I need to sleep.

However, this is on principle. They offered me goods and services, I paid for it, and they will deliver what they promised. I know, it sucks from their perspective to have to make two trips to deliver something as trivial as bubble tea which costs like $3. But I will not be walked all over by bad customer service...again! (Note to self, write that letter of complaint to American Airlines).

I'm so stubborn. But...all I wanted was some bubble tea. Was that so much to ask? I'm going to open my own bubble tea shop if this doesn't resolve itself. Perhaps it can take a corner of my hakwon and the kids will supply the business as they study...

peeves

So yesterday this random guy comes into my work area and does this slow karate style bow and says "I hear that I'm supposed to bow like this to you, since you're a martial arts master". And I'm thinking...who is this guy?? In my mind I can't help but stereotype him as just another white guy who's watched Chuck Norris one too many times. Or (pet peeve #1) someone who thinks that all martial arts are like karate. (Including people who call it karate, people who do wax on wax off motions, etc.)

However, I don't know who this guy is. For all I know he could be a client. A coworker. A vendor. Who knows? With the degree of suck-uppage unclear, I just had to humor him, so I struck up conversation with him.

He proceeds to go on and on about how his son did Taekwondo (eesh, he knew what it was and he STILL sounded like he was talking about karate) from when he was 5 and got his 3rd degree black belt by the time he was 11.

OK if you're in any self-respecting school that isn't totally out for money - that doesn't happen. By the rules in the actual governing body of TKD, you physically can't get your 3rd degree black belt in 6 years, not if you start from white belt. (pet peeve #2 - schools that let you buy a black belt and the parents who think this is meaningful).

Again, humoring the guy, I say "wow, that's pretty fast". And he responds with "well, you know, he was very dedicated, he went to class 2 or 3 times a WEEK!"

OK now I'm having a hard time controlling my facial expressions, which want to express..."EXCUSE ME??" The guy basically paid for a babysitting service for his kid and wants recognition for it? No way. (pet peeve #3 - parents who celebrate the mediocrity of their children and then expect others to recognize it for more than what it is - which is really just mediocrity. think "meet the fockers".)

He then proceeds to explain why his son quit at 11 "because they weren't giving him any guidance or incentive and he couldn't test for his 4th degree until he was at least 17". Now it grates. (pet peeve #4 - the fact that I've been doing this for 15 years, and have proven myself as an athlete, instructor, and coach, but am receiving little guidance and being held at 3rd degree for reasons unknown to me).

So I'm smiling and nodding, and wondering when he's going to leave me alone. (And that's pretty bad because I will welcome any distraction possible at work). So he gets around to his finishing line which is "so are you really going to go to the Olympics?" (pet peeve #5 - that very question. people who think that the only competition out there is the olympics, and implicitly make me feel that any other competition just isn't important.)

Turns out he was a sales guy. He wanted my card, gave me his card (good thing, bc I forgot his name the moment he said it). I suppose I should practice my fake smile and fake laugh and fake interest in inane conversations...but being the type to wear my heart on my sleeve makes these types of situations very difficult. The urge to roll my eyes was killing me...

out loud

this morning i went to hand therapy at the crack of dawn. so he hooks up my hand to the electric stim and goes to the other side to treat his other patient. they start making conversation and he and asks me what i do for work, and i say i'm an engineer. he asks what kind of engineering i do, and i say mechanical. he asks me what exactly i do.

so it's kind of hard to describe my job because saying you're an "engineering consultant" is such a vague description. but it's not like i'm a straight engineer the way i was trained to be. and everyone knows that engineering doesn't really exist in NYC.

so perhaps i was trying to be facetious or perhaps it really was just freaking 7am on a monday and i had no filters while i'm electrocuting my hand to try and stimulate healing...but when he asked me what my job is, my response was "we argue with architects and tell them they're stupid".

i know, it's not PC at all, and not terribly nice...but...yeah, that's what my company does. we do calculations and tell architects that their designs aren't going to work, and then argue with them for space so buildings can have things like pipes and hot water and air conditioning.

so the guy across the table looks up, and the therapist laughs and says "yeah, he's an architect".

open mouth. insert foot.

so then i try to save myself, but really, my foot is already firmly lodged in my mouth that it wasn't going to get much better.

note to self - don't talk to people before i'm fully awake. there needs to be some censoring off the cuff. can't have too many of these "wait, was that out loud?" moments.

wedding

Best weekend I've had in a *long* time. Sometimes you have these moments when you see so tangibly that God really answers prayers. For anyone else who welled up when S&D did the traditional bows and the parents received them...you have to agree with me, God is so good. There's something about witnessing reconciliation firsthand that's just beautiful.

And despite all of my apprehension at having to be totally girlified - it wasn't so bad after all. Except the shoes - there really wasn't anything redeeming about wearing uncomfortable strappy shoes. But after all the dress and hair and makeup etc. was done...I was quite embarassed by people's reactions (I guess it was quite a shock). But I suppose it was flattering after the intial embarassment.

What a GREAT party. KCF/ACF over the generations spanning almost 10 years...it was so awesome seeing all the old friends, where time seems to stop and nothing seems to have ever changed. I must admit, I was initially hesitant at the bridal party duties of having to actually dance all the time and get people to do it to...but actually it was quite fun. Kudos to MC/DJ pyang!

Sunday I got to go to church, meet some of the new TKD frosh (they eensah'd...gosh I'm old. Class of '09. Eek...) and got to work out with my tBos friends. So good to be back, to be kicking out, sweating hard...with other people doing the same and encouraging you from the side. So good to be back.

aepark said something interesting in the car on the way back...maybe it was so good just because of the steep gradient of the everyday with which to compare it to. I think it's partly true...it was SO good. But alas...all good things must come to an end. Back to NY. Back to reality. Back to the job, the dojang and all that comes with it. I hope the weekend of fun and affirmation and community was enough to last for...who knows how long.

In any event - another one bites the dust and the class of '01 is just dropping like flies. Congratulations to dp and sly!

rough like sandpaper

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you." -Deuteronomy 31:6

Sometimes I wonder if I made the right decision. But it's good to know that in the end, no matter who fails you or abandons you...God never will.

It's been a rough week.

In a way, I'm really looking forward to going to Boston this weekend. Not only in celebration of Susan and Danny's wedding (yay!), but also for the chance to enjoy the company of friends past and present. ACF and TKD both. Where everybody does indeed know your name. Getting to work out with teammates, catching up with friends.

It's funny...after this whole week...the randomest line made me feel cared for.

"E-mail with anything else you might need. You don't need to bring a towel, or shampoo or soap. I have liquid body soap, and Pantene Pro-V shampoo!"

As if Pantene could make things better. But it kind of does. I think it's because it's the first time in a long time that someone's offered something I needed without me having to ask. And it was nice.

sleep deprivation

Sometimes you don't know how tired you are until you have a chance to take a nap. It's like your body can just keep going until it knows it's OK to stop, and then it just shuts down. I remember in college I was notorious for being able to fall asleep anywhere, anytime. In fact, I think I've managed to take a nap in everyone's room at some point or other...and on any random couch across campus...or sitting on the floor in a hallway.

Haha, I even remember in 2.007 lab, Woodie (my prof) was explaining something to our lab group on the chalkboard when suddenly a big piece of chalk flies across the table and hits me in the chest. Little did I know that he throws chalk at people who fall asleep in his classes. (And that embarassment was promptly an example to all not to doze off in that class). Well, that and as the class went on, we'd be machining and it'd be very bad to fall asleep at a saw or lathe.

Even at my old workplace, I was known as the narcoleptic. Tara seriously thought I had sleep apnia (whatever that means). 5 minutes into a meeting, and I'd glaze over. (Granted, these meetings weren't interesting, and I never really had to say anything). I think I even managed to zone out in a one-on-one meeting once.

I've been pretty good about not falling asleep at my new workplace, though it's required a lot of gum, candy, and the occasional soda and walk outside around the building to wake up.

So yesterday at 3pm, an announcement comes over the intercom saying "the office will be closing now". So those of us who came in decided to go home. I had some time to kill, got my glasses fixed, watched some tv...and around 6 decided to take a little nap before heading off to church.

And then I wake up, look at the clock and think "oh man, I overslept! I was supposed to be at church by 7!"

And then I realize...it's not 8pm. It's 8am.

I just slept for 14 hours.

stretch marks

When I was in high school, there was a teacher who made his classes do these things called "stretch marks". You had to complete a certain number of "stretch marks" per semester, where you get a "stretch mark" for doing something that you've never done before, or swore you'd never do. I guess the point was to make us more well-rounded people who've experienced different things, faced fears, or otherwise stepped outside the box.

Some of you may remember my entry a few weeks ago when I bought my first pink shirt. In high school, I fought it as hard as I could, but in the end gave in and went to my first dance. In a dress. Or how I swore I hated vocal music until I went to see Handel's Messiah and ended up taking Opera my senior year. Or how I said I'd never do a spinning hook kick at a tournament, and then I did.

Yes, compared to most people, who do things like go skydiving - my stretch marks aren't quite so pronounced. Haha, but if you know me, you know that...I like my box. I like it a lot.

So the other day my cousin Gina (who is about an expert in girl as you can get) took me to Sephora. (Sly, these are the things I do for you...) So along with the wearing the dress and shiny silver shoes thing, this whole bridesmaid thing apparently means you have to get made up and do your hair. As much as I dislike the whole getting girlified thing...I figure if I'm going to do it, may as well do it right.

I'm not a fan of putting chemicals on my face to alter my image. I suppose it will make me look nice, but...really, the only thing I like to have on my face is sweat. (I know, so totally attractive). Ironically, I have no problem ingesting chemicals INTO my body for the sake of practical things, like pain relief. But covering up stuff on the surface isn't really my thing.

That being said, I was absolutely floored by the store. So bok-jap-heh, I didn't know where to go during the 5 minutes I was wandering by myself before Gina got there. Some serious panic attack coming on with all the women pushing past me getting from one place to another, grabbing all these little bottles and pencils and whatevers along the way. Or the metro guys getting their fancy cologne or whatever else it is that guys apparently go into Sephora for.

After being whisked around by Gina and getting her expert advice, I emerged poorer but with a bag full of what is apparently the essentials of makeup. She even showed me (on my hand) how to apply it. It's so complicated, I had to take notes. Haha. But thanks geener, it was much less painful than I imagined! =)

By the way, if anyone thinks they're repiercing my ears, there is no way that a sharp metal object is going through my flesh....I've been stretched enough for awhile.

Thank you, Sly, for making your bridesmaids' dresses blue...

sumo wrestling

All I have to say is...sumo wrestling has got to be the most spectator unfriendly sport to be on ESPN. Today Y and I convinced the boss to go to ktown for lunch instead of the chinese place we always go to, and keumkangsan had this huge tv on the wall showing ESPN. Seeing as how I eat lunch every day with middle-aged and old-aged men, I frequently end up twiddling my thumbs or daydreaming as they read the paper or talk amongst themselves about work. So I welcomed the prospect of Sportscenter.

Until they started showing this world sumo tournament that took place at MSG. Now I have to say - whatever it is those guys are wearing, it's not flattering and it doesn't look too comfortable. Considering that it's a perfectly legal move to grab the loincloth (let's face it, that's what it is) and yank on it to try and pick the opponent up or move them around...I was just thinking, do you just end up accustomed to a perpetual wedgie?

And then...the cloth thing...isn't very well designed. Meaning, these are big guys. Anywhere from 200-500 lbs. (Yes, they listed their weights, and there were guys well into the 400's). There can only be so much muscle before you just end up with a whole lot of fat.

It really wasn't doing much for my appetite to watch these massive guys with massive man-boobs and buttcheeks grunting and trying to push each other out of the ring. Somehow I just don't see the strategy in a sport that lasts about 30 seconds. I found myself rooting for the "little guy" - the 230 lb dude who ended up just getting picked up by the 411 lb dude and shoved and landed on. I gotta hand it to him for getting back up.

But seriously...how do you live through all the wedgies?

혹시 포기하면 어떡해... (-달콤한 상상)

I think one of life's biggest disappointments is when someone you've admired and looked up to turns out to not be the person you thought they were.

portland

The short version:

What an emotional rollercoaster of a weekend. I think I hit the extreme of every possible emotion...from annoyance to fury to utter despair to gratefulness, back to despair, to relief, to paranoia, to exhaustion, to panic, to joy, to pride, to utter exhaustion. I need a hug.

The run-down: I made it to Portland and back, manging to sprint a few miles in Chicago's O'Hare airport (worst airport EVER) when flights were delayed and cancelled, trying to get at least 10 people without hearts to give me customer service before hyperventilating and bursting into tears at a ticket counter, spending 3 uncomfortable hours curled up on a too-small couch in Pheonix, driving through the rain with a non-functioning GPS system in Portland, fighting with security guards to let me into the venue so I could get my badge...

to coach my 13 year old protege to a bronze medal in sparring (big breakthrough for him!), my teammate to a bronze (also a big breakthrough), run around coaching my tBOS teammates (including a huge win for Liza against an old rival!) and winning my own matches.

So I suppose alls well that ends well...but...it came at a price.

excellence

"Excellence is the result of caring more than others think is wise, risking more than others think is safe, dreaming more than others think is practical, and expecting more than others think is possible."

Sometimes I step back and look at things - particularly when I'm really tired - and I wonder if it'd be better if I didn't care so much about things.

Life would certainly be "easier".

But I don't think it'd really be living.

I think it all comes back to the same thing: balance.

on birth order - part 1

Does birth order really matter?

Totally.

Whenever anyone asks me whether I have siblings, I always shoot back at them "what do you think I have?"

In fact, before you read further, please do take a guess. If you feel so inclined to share, let me know. I've been taking data over the years and it's a pretty interesting way to assess how people view your personality.

So we had a birthday dinner for Syd on Saturday night. She's 3 now, her older sister is 7, and in about a month she'll have a younger brother. A brother that she definitely didn't ask for. When my cousin was pregnant with Syd, they didn't really have this issue with Sammy because she wanted a baby sister. (In fact, she wanted to name her "Tolula") When Alex (her cousin) came along and suddenly became the center of attention, Syd did NOT take it well. She still doesn't. But like it or not, she's headed into middle-child-hood. As the middle and the repeat...attention looks to be scarce. Poor kid...

So at her birthday, it was really cute watching her open presents. The presents she liked best were the ones that were versions of things her sister has. Her eyes would light up and she'd squeal "Just like un-nee!"

So do younger siblings always want to emulate older siblings? To me, it seems to be an issue of attention. On the one hand, youngers have the cute factor and the novelty factor on their side...but then the olders always get to do everything first and therefore have more accomplishments to draw attention to themselves. Who ends up getting more attention?

you know life is bad when....

"Hi, this is apt xxx, I'm having a problem with my toilet. It doesn't flush."

"Ohhh...that's a problem with your flush-o-meter."

"Excuse me?"

"Your flush-o-meter. Your unit isn't flushing"

"Yes, I understand that. Can someone fix it?"

"Bill isn't here today. You can call tomorrow and he'll come and fix it."

"Until tomorrow? Are you kidding me? What am I supposed to do until then?"

"Sorry, he's not here today"

I never knew what a flush-o-meter was. Sounds so fake. Well, I invested in a can of Oust. I'm...going to have to go suprman style and just go a day without using the bathroom. (He is a friend of mine from college who refused to use any toilet other than his own - so sometimes on retreats he would just not go the whole weekend...an amazing feat, I must say...)

Too bad I haven't learned enough about plumbing yet to be able to fix it myself...it's clearly just a lack of water pressure...somewhere...

But somehow I fear the possibilities of if I try to fix it and it fails....