dangit. Mia tagged me. And she's just too darn cute and it's her birthday (happy birthday mia!) so here goes...
the rules: Each player of this game starts with the 6 weird things about you. People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 6 weird things as well. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says you are tagged in their comments and tell them to read your blog. Remember copy and paste this so as to state the rules clearly.
1. I can't sit on the floor for more than 10 minutes. Something about the circulation in my legs or my muscles, but I get really uncomfortable sitting on the floor. I have to sit on a chair. Makes things super awkward in prayer meetings when they try to get everyone in the mood and tell us to get on our knees - for that split second I have to fight the peer pressure to want to fit in and...be the lame one still sitting in the chair.
2. I'm very ticklish. However, tickle me at your own risk, because I have no control over my limbs if tickled. When mcho was a freshman (and I was a junior), we were hanging out in mkenwort's room, and he had a lofted bed. I was attempting to take a nap, and she thought it would be really cute to tickle me. At first I sort of jumped, and growled "you don't want to do that". She laughed and thought I was joking. So I clarified "no I'm serious - I have no control of my limbs when I'm tickled - I'm REALLY ticklish!" She goes on giggling. And then she tickles my feet. Apparently at this point, my leg went flying (by aforementioned lack of control) and hit her in the forehead, knocking her backwards off the bed. She was fine, though the look on her face was utter shock in that moment of confusion before she wailed "bad un-nee!" Hey. I warned you, kid. (Shortly thereafter, mcho joined the Sport Taekwondo Club, and ended up being my protege and superstar. Clearly kicking people in the face is a great way to recruit.)
3. I have a tendency to scream/yelp when food falls. It all started freshman year, when my best friend Gina and I were eating fruit (specifically honeydew melons...mmm...) and a piece of melon fell off my fork. It's like I was seeing it in slow motion, falling onto the floor. So instinctively, I yelped. Gina found this to be hilarious. Over the next few years, she realized that this is a gut reaction for me - and she proceeded to rate everything relative to the "melon scream".
4. I cry at movies. But only if I'm watching them by myself. The spouts were dry at Schindler's List when I was with a group of friends, but put on Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants or Miracle by myself and the floodgates open. Clearly I have pride issues.
5. I have to wear my lucky pants on the day of competition. They're these blue Adidas pants from Korea that actually belong to Rich. I borrowed them once when I was over there late on a day I was wearing shorts and it got cold. I meant to wash them and give them back, but then I went to a tournament and accidentally packed them in my bag instead of my other blue Adidas pants. And I won. So I took them to the next tournament, and I won. And so on and so forth. They're a little too big, a little out of style, and they don't match any of the team jackets we get - but they're my lucky pants. They take the awesomeness from his legs to the pant legs to my legs and then I win. And since he stopped competing long ago...well someone should harness the talent that was never used.
6. I only watch movies and Korean dramas with happy endings. (And I only watch mini-series - if it's got more than 20 episodes, forget it). If I'm going to make that kind of emotional investment into characters...then the right ones better get married at the end, and people better not die. I really hate it when you get all attached to a character and they give him/her cancer. Or they get hit by a bus. Or both.
I tag you.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Monday, January 29, 2007
Turbo - Goodbye Yesterday, 애인이 생겼어요, White Love (Live) 1998
Throwback. My 3 favorite Turbo songs, all in one video...
Friday, January 26, 2007
motivation
What are the odds that 3 people I know had birthdays yesterday? Crazy coincidence...
J, Aimee and I went bowling last night (well, Danna and Ben left after dinner) at some place down...below 28th St. (Used to be 32nd, but now that the church office is there, I'm migrating slowly.) I haven't been bowling since I broke my finger.
So J is typically a very good bowler. Apparently he took bowling in high school PE, and bowled a 296 at his last birthday. Or something. I'm a pretty terrible bowler, and Aimee is somewhere in between.
However, J was having a bad day or something, everything spun into the gutter. Aimee and I came in at well under 100. Our scores were abysmal.
So, just for fun, we put a bet on the 2nd game. J had to give us each a 30 point handicap, and whoever lost had to go on a blind date with whoever the winners chose.
A little motivation does wonders...suddenly everyone was getting strikes and spares. HAHA.
Happy Birthday J!
J, Aimee and I went bowling last night (well, Danna and Ben left after dinner) at some place down...below 28th St. (Used to be 32nd, but now that the church office is there, I'm migrating slowly.) I haven't been bowling since I broke my finger.
So J is typically a very good bowler. Apparently he took bowling in high school PE, and bowled a 296 at his last birthday. Or something. I'm a pretty terrible bowler, and Aimee is somewhere in between.
However, J was having a bad day or something, everything spun into the gutter. Aimee and I came in at well under 100. Our scores were abysmal.
So, just for fun, we put a bet on the 2nd game. J had to give us each a 30 point handicap, and whoever lost had to go on a blind date with whoever the winners chose.
A little motivation does wonders...suddenly everyone was getting strikes and spares. HAHA.
Happy Birthday J!
Saturday, January 20, 2007
do it rockapella!
What a random, random day.
Went to the museum of natural history with J for a bit in the afternoon. No wonder he rocks that trivia game at Dave and Busters - he knows everything. It was very educational. I'm still offended that China and Japan got a whole wing in the Asian peoples exhibit and Korea got one display. What's up with that?
So this has never happened to me before, but...I kept stepping on small children. They were everywhere, and somehow ended up running right in front of me while I was walking. I felt like a giant.
So the museum is on 81st/CPW and I had to meet the Columbia boys up at 116th/bway. So J told me I could either walk across first and go catch the 1 train uptown, or train first and take the A to 116th then walk across. I opted to train first, walk later.
Equivalent in theory, but in reality...
What I failed to realize was that uptown, it gets shady the closer you are to Central Park (or that general area) PLUS there was that little thing standing in my way called Morningside Park. Meaning, I got out of the subway, and there was a dark unlit park with an uphill climb to get to the Columbia campus.
So, being foolish (and on the verge of being late), I decided to save myself some time, find the stairs, and cut through the park. Yeah, don't do that, it was a pretty scary climb. And just depressing that I was breathing hard by the end - 2 sedentary weeks has left me out of shape.
But I made it just fine. (Phew!) Too much travelling for such a bitterly cold night. So from there we went to see Rockapella in concert. It was *awesome*. The first non-classical concert I've ever been to. I've always been a sucker for acapella music, and they were great. And they sang Carmen Sandiego!!
Then I introduced the boys (and their friends) to the burger joint. So good. And so unhealthy. Yeehaw!
Not a bad way to spend my last free weekend...it was nice to see how the other half lives. And now...back to our regularly scheduled program.
T-minus 8 weeks.
Went to the museum of natural history with J for a bit in the afternoon. No wonder he rocks that trivia game at Dave and Busters - he knows everything. It was very educational. I'm still offended that China and Japan got a whole wing in the Asian peoples exhibit and Korea got one display. What's up with that?
So this has never happened to me before, but...I kept stepping on small children. They were everywhere, and somehow ended up running right in front of me while I was walking. I felt like a giant.
So the museum is on 81st/CPW and I had to meet the Columbia boys up at 116th/bway. So J told me I could either walk across first and go catch the 1 train uptown, or train first and take the A to 116th then walk across. I opted to train first, walk later.
Equivalent in theory, but in reality...
What I failed to realize was that uptown, it gets shady the closer you are to Central Park (or that general area) PLUS there was that little thing standing in my way called Morningside Park. Meaning, I got out of the subway, and there was a dark unlit park with an uphill climb to get to the Columbia campus.
So, being foolish (and on the verge of being late), I decided to save myself some time, find the stairs, and cut through the park. Yeah, don't do that, it was a pretty scary climb. And just depressing that I was breathing hard by the end - 2 sedentary weeks has left me out of shape.
But I made it just fine. (Phew!) Too much travelling for such a bitterly cold night. So from there we went to see Rockapella in concert. It was *awesome*. The first non-classical concert I've ever been to. I've always been a sucker for acapella music, and they were great. And they sang Carmen Sandiego!!
Then I introduced the boys (and their friends) to the burger joint. So good. And so unhealthy. Yeehaw!
Not a bad way to spend my last free weekend...it was nice to see how the other half lives. And now...back to our regularly scheduled program.
T-minus 8 weeks.
how to save a life
Step one you say we need to talk
He walks you say sit down it's just a talk
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines of fear and blame
And you begin to wonder why you came
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
Let him know that you know best
Cause after all you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
Without granting innocence
Lay down a list of what is wrong
The things you've told him all along
And pray to God he hears you
And pray to God he hears you
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
As he begins to raise his voice
You lower yours and grant him one last choice
Drive until you lose the road
Or break with the ones you've followed
He will do one of two things
He will admit to everything
Or he'll say he's just not the same
And you'll begin to wonder why you came
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
He walks you say sit down it's just a talk
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines of fear and blame
And you begin to wonder why you came
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
Let him know that you know best
Cause after all you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
Without granting innocence
Lay down a list of what is wrong
The things you've told him all along
And pray to God he hears you
And pray to God he hears you
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
As he begins to raise his voice
You lower yours and grant him one last choice
Drive until you lose the road
Or break with the ones you've followed
He will do one of two things
He will admit to everything
Or he'll say he's just not the same
And you'll begin to wonder why you came
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
Thursday, January 18, 2007
bridge building
Relationships are like building bridges. (And by relationships I mean connection between people, not exclusively in a romantic context, though if you find that applicable, by all means).
I was having a conversation with someone today about the theory of bridge-building (or re-building, as the case may be) and sometimes I wonder whether some bridges just aren't meant to be built.
It's easy to build a bridge when the two points of connection are close together. With some cases, you can just put a plank of wood down, and that's all you need. Sometimes you don't even need a bridge, you can just hop from one cliff to another.
But what do you do when the chasm is too wide? When the manpower is too weak? When the resources are too scarce?
What do you do when someone won't meet you halfway at building? Me, I think my natural tendency if someone won't meet me halfway, is to try to compensate. Go 60/40. 70/30. But eventually you realize that it's a whole lot of effort and wasted resources for something that will inevitably fail.
See, you can't build a bridge from one side. At some point, it's just a cantilever beam problem gone wrong. Sometimes you try to forge ahead and you build, but there has to be some mutual effort for it to be possible.
So my question is - what do you do when someone knocks down your attempt at a bridge, telling you that there's no need for it? Probably a good indication to walk away. What if you've tried to build a bridge from one end, and in its fragile state it's burned by a flamethrower launched from the other end - well, you're left with damanged resources and an unstable foundation, looking down at the miles and miles beneath you and a rather painful-looking fall to your doom if you leave your side. What if after you've resigned to the fact that this particular bridge cannot be built, what if the owner of the other cliff suddenly changes his/her mind and not only proposes to rebuild, but claims to make the effort from the other end?
Clearly it's already been established that you can't build a bridge from one end - so if now the roles are reversed and they're building and you're not, then you're in the same state of (un)productivity. Because regardless of what percent of effort comes from which side - if they don't eventually connect, then the bridge is useless.
So I guess JAAC is right. You watch from your end and see if they're actually making a good effort from their side, or whether it's just like every other time. And in the meantime - you try to pick up the pieces and invest in some flame-retardant coating spray for the materials you can salvage. It covers up the natural shine of your raw materials with this ugly paint coating...but at least it won't go up in flames.
I hope this was not as cryptic as the turtle and the scorpion story. Though really, they're very similar.
I was having a conversation with someone today about the theory of bridge-building (or re-building, as the case may be) and sometimes I wonder whether some bridges just aren't meant to be built.
It's easy to build a bridge when the two points of connection are close together. With some cases, you can just put a plank of wood down, and that's all you need. Sometimes you don't even need a bridge, you can just hop from one cliff to another.
But what do you do when the chasm is too wide? When the manpower is too weak? When the resources are too scarce?
What do you do when someone won't meet you halfway at building? Me, I think my natural tendency if someone won't meet me halfway, is to try to compensate. Go 60/40. 70/30. But eventually you realize that it's a whole lot of effort and wasted resources for something that will inevitably fail.
See, you can't build a bridge from one side. At some point, it's just a cantilever beam problem gone wrong. Sometimes you try to forge ahead and you build, but there has to be some mutual effort for it to be possible.
So my question is - what do you do when someone knocks down your attempt at a bridge, telling you that there's no need for it? Probably a good indication to walk away. What if you've tried to build a bridge from one end, and in its fragile state it's burned by a flamethrower launched from the other end - well, you're left with damanged resources and an unstable foundation, looking down at the miles and miles beneath you and a rather painful-looking fall to your doom if you leave your side. What if after you've resigned to the fact that this particular bridge cannot be built, what if the owner of the other cliff suddenly changes his/her mind and not only proposes to rebuild, but claims to make the effort from the other end?
Clearly it's already been established that you can't build a bridge from one end - so if now the roles are reversed and they're building and you're not, then you're in the same state of (un)productivity. Because regardless of what percent of effort comes from which side - if they don't eventually connect, then the bridge is useless.
So I guess JAAC is right. You watch from your end and see if they're actually making a good effort from their side, or whether it's just like every other time. And in the meantime - you try to pick up the pieces and invest in some flame-retardant coating spray for the materials you can salvage. It covers up the natural shine of your raw materials with this ugly paint coating...but at least it won't go up in flames.
I hope this was not as cryptic as the turtle and the scorpion story. Though really, they're very similar.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
혹시 포기하면 어떻개?
At some point, everyone gets tired of losing. Of trying and failing. Whether it be at competition, at relationships, at work, at school...there comes a point when you realize that you're just tired of the way things are. Things are "fine" but they're not as good as they could be. Or things are not fine, but you realize that they're really not going to get better. At some point, you realize that sitting on the fence is safe, but it gets you nowhere.
So there are two courses of action from that point.
1) You get tired of losing, decide that you don't have what it takes, and you give up. And sometimes this is the wise decision. Sometimes you just have to let things go. Sometimes the net probability for improvement is slim in comparison to the energy expended and just how bad it makes you feel to be disappointed. (This is the point where you stop asking her out/you stop thinking he will ask you out, you stop counting on someone who is not dependable, you stop believing someone who is not genuine, you stop fighting for that promotion, you drop the class etc.) Sometimes, it's better just to cut your losses and walk away. If you hang onto that class, you might end up doing poorly in all your classes, whereas if you drop it, you have the freedom to focus your energies and attentions on the ones that you have a chance in. Sometimes it's the cowardly thing to do, and I'm generally not a fan of quitting - but I see the value more and more of identifying when things aren't working, admitting that I don't have the capacity to handle them, and letting them go.
2) You get tired of losing, decide to do whatever it takes, risk failure and discomfort, and prevail. Coach JK challenged me with this at Pan Am Trials - that if you have a goal, a purpose, and a belief that you can do it, then as the gospel of Luke and Adidas say - nothing is impossible. It's just a matter of how far you're willing to go. And this involves risk - namely, risking failure. Because nothing is guaranteed, and when you put your whole being into something, and your whole heart is out there - the all-or-nothing is a risk that you will be crushed, and there will be no excuse left for your disappointment. High risk, high reward.
At the crux of the two things that mean the most to me, I realize that I'm tired of losing.
And funny enough, each is leaning towards separate categories.
혹시 포기하면 어떻개?
So there are two courses of action from that point.
1) You get tired of losing, decide that you don't have what it takes, and you give up. And sometimes this is the wise decision. Sometimes you just have to let things go. Sometimes the net probability for improvement is slim in comparison to the energy expended and just how bad it makes you feel to be disappointed. (This is the point where you stop asking her out/you stop thinking he will ask you out, you stop counting on someone who is not dependable, you stop believing someone who is not genuine, you stop fighting for that promotion, you drop the class etc.) Sometimes, it's better just to cut your losses and walk away. If you hang onto that class, you might end up doing poorly in all your classes, whereas if you drop it, you have the freedom to focus your energies and attentions on the ones that you have a chance in. Sometimes it's the cowardly thing to do, and I'm generally not a fan of quitting - but I see the value more and more of identifying when things aren't working, admitting that I don't have the capacity to handle them, and letting them go.
2) You get tired of losing, decide to do whatever it takes, risk failure and discomfort, and prevail. Coach JK challenged me with this at Pan Am Trials - that if you have a goal, a purpose, and a belief that you can do it, then as the gospel of Luke and Adidas say - nothing is impossible. It's just a matter of how far you're willing to go. And this involves risk - namely, risking failure. Because nothing is guaranteed, and when you put your whole being into something, and your whole heart is out there - the all-or-nothing is a risk that you will be crushed, and there will be no excuse left for your disappointment. High risk, high reward.
At the crux of the two things that mean the most to me, I realize that I'm tired of losing.
And funny enough, each is leaning towards separate categories.
혹시 포기하면 어떻개?
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Resolution #2
I love hanging out with MIT people. It's probably the only time that a) I don't have to calculate tip and b) I'm not the only one using the phrase "activation energy" in regular speech.
It's funny how your hubae's grow up. I still remember each of them as a freshman during orientation. It amazes me when I see them go from being my babies to my students to my friends and perhaps even peers...though some will always be my babies. I miss being able to baby them.
Well New Year's Resolution #2 (perhaps to be further expounded upon later) is to screw activation energy and go out more. I severely paid for my choice to go out to karaoke till wee hours of the morning on Sun night when I was dying at work at 8am Monday, but it was worth it to see mcho et al.
I hate how I can't write in Korean on this computer. Hrmph.
It's funny how your hubae's grow up. I still remember each of them as a freshman during orientation. It amazes me when I see them go from being my babies to my students to my friends and perhaps even peers...though some will always be my babies. I miss being able to baby them.
Well New Year's Resolution #2 (perhaps to be further expounded upon later) is to screw activation energy and go out more. I severely paid for my choice to go out to karaoke till wee hours of the morning on Sun night when I was dying at work at 8am Monday, but it was worth it to see mcho et al.
I hate how I can't write in Korean on this computer. Hrmph.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
the new do
They weren't kidding about this new look. Today was phase one of my Jewish mother's quest to launch a new and improved me. (I asked for video games for Christmas, and I got a makeover. Don't know why they had me make a list in the first place...)
I'm still half grateful half insulted, but...trying to be a good sport about it and tell myself that it's the thought that counts, and not that fact that I'm constantly getting clucked over (the holiday party was crazy - they triple-teamed me) and told that my appearance is unacceptable. Apparently there are a lot of people who want to see me get married and they blame it on the way I look, and want to "bring out"...whatever there is to bring out. Eh. I suppose since everyone has agreed that TKD is impeding this whole process for the rest of my life, it's only fitting that this TKD group (Jewish mothers have a tendency to round up troops) has their sights set on reversing the effect.
So today was the new haircut and hair lesson, with the gay hair guy. Seriously, this guy could've been on Queer Eye...he was freaking hilarious. I have to admit it was fun just because he was so darn funny. (Though half his jokes went over my head. Apparently my mind isn't in the gutter enough.)
So today I learned:
1) My hair is naturally wavy.
2) My hair isn't actually black, but "darkest brown" with blue. BLUE. Gee, I knew it was my favorite color, but who knew it was in my hair? Regardless, apparently this brown and blue thing makes my hair look black. But it's not. You learn something new every day...
3) Step by step how to blow-dry properly. Gee, it was like when I first got contacts and they made me put them in and take them out twice in front of them. The guy made me scrunch my fingers in my hair and show him the proper way to "arrange". Yes, arrange. I feel like I should've taken notes.
4) Everything I do from the minute I step out of the shower to walking out the door is apparently wrong. There is apparently "towel dry" - and what I do, which is sort of rubbing it dry. Severely chastised by the gay guy for that.
5) As a result of the wavy hair business, there are apparently "possibilities" (which to me looked like my hair just blew up and went crazy, but they loved it). Yeah, that volumous look ain't gonna happen, I felt like an electrocuted puppy. But apparently that is what people like to look like. Well, I guess I have that option, which apparently people are jealous of. Gee.
But the end result was something involving layers, and I think I like it. Whatever, it's out of my face, it's long enough to put into a ponytail, and it is apparently a better look and therefore people won't bother me about it. The experience was entertaining. I think she's banned me from ever going to Supercuts again, so...I suppose I have to set aside a haircut fund now in my budget. I can't believe how much effort people make to look good. Sigh. Vanity.
I guess I'll just consider it therapy...joking around with the flamingly gay guy was pretty therapeutic. Haven't been that amused in a long time...he was cool.
Mother-daughter bonding takes various forms. Though afterwards we got to go shopping for athletic shoes and apparel, which was much more my area of expertise. So for the day, we walked away with a new haircut, a hairbrush (I can't believe I paid $16 for a fancy hairbrush thing), new Puma shoes, TKD shoes, and Nike pants for her. Productive. Yeehaw.
(And no there are no pictures because I lost my camera and haven't replaced it. You'll just have to make an effort to see me. That means you, JAAC).
I'm still half grateful half insulted, but...trying to be a good sport about it and tell myself that it's the thought that counts, and not that fact that I'm constantly getting clucked over (the holiday party was crazy - they triple-teamed me) and told that my appearance is unacceptable. Apparently there are a lot of people who want to see me get married and they blame it on the way I look, and want to "bring out"...whatever there is to bring out. Eh. I suppose since everyone has agreed that TKD is impeding this whole process for the rest of my life, it's only fitting that this TKD group (Jewish mothers have a tendency to round up troops) has their sights set on reversing the effect.
So today was the new haircut and hair lesson, with the gay hair guy. Seriously, this guy could've been on Queer Eye...he was freaking hilarious. I have to admit it was fun just because he was so darn funny. (Though half his jokes went over my head. Apparently my mind isn't in the gutter enough.)
So today I learned:
1) My hair is naturally wavy.
2) My hair isn't actually black, but "darkest brown" with blue. BLUE. Gee, I knew it was my favorite color, but who knew it was in my hair? Regardless, apparently this brown and blue thing makes my hair look black. But it's not. You learn something new every day...
3) Step by step how to blow-dry properly. Gee, it was like when I first got contacts and they made me put them in and take them out twice in front of them. The guy made me scrunch my fingers in my hair and show him the proper way to "arrange". Yes, arrange. I feel like I should've taken notes.
4) Everything I do from the minute I step out of the shower to walking out the door is apparently wrong. There is apparently "towel dry" - and what I do, which is sort of rubbing it dry. Severely chastised by the gay guy for that.
5) As a result of the wavy hair business, there are apparently "possibilities" (which to me looked like my hair just blew up and went crazy, but they loved it). Yeah, that volumous look ain't gonna happen, I felt like an electrocuted puppy. But apparently that is what people like to look like. Well, I guess I have that option, which apparently people are jealous of. Gee.
But the end result was something involving layers, and I think I like it. Whatever, it's out of my face, it's long enough to put into a ponytail, and it is apparently a better look and therefore people won't bother me about it. The experience was entertaining. I think she's banned me from ever going to Supercuts again, so...I suppose I have to set aside a haircut fund now in my budget. I can't believe how much effort people make to look good. Sigh. Vanity.
I guess I'll just consider it therapy...joking around with the flamingly gay guy was pretty therapeutic. Haven't been that amused in a long time...he was cool.
Mother-daughter bonding takes various forms. Though afterwards we got to go shopping for athletic shoes and apparel, which was much more my area of expertise. So for the day, we walked away with a new haircut, a hairbrush (I can't believe I paid $16 for a fancy hairbrush thing), new Puma shoes, TKD shoes, and Nike pants for her. Productive. Yeehaw.
(And no there are no pictures because I lost my camera and haven't replaced it. You'll just have to make an effort to see me. That means you, JAAC).
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
dodgeball
Dodgeball was on TV last night. I must say, the whole video skit thing we did for church makes a lot more sense now that I've actually seen the movie.
Anyways. Beneath the crass exterior, I actually really liked it. It was a bit therapeutic after this weekend. Perhaps I will expound more details later, but let's just say that after you're winning 4-1 and hurt your foot to the point of not being able to stand on your toes and end up losing 6-5 to the person who ends up winning...and fighting another match with a busted foot and losing on a 2-2 sudden death superiority decision...you do some thinking.
Ya, I've been watching the dodgeball tournament on the Ocho. ESPN 8. I just can't get enough of it. Good luck in the tournament. I'm really pulling for you against those jerks from Globo Gym. I think you better hurry up or you're gonna be late.
Uh, actually I decided to quit... Lance.
Quit? You know, once I was thinking of quitting when I was diagnosed with brain, lung and testicular cancer all at the same time. But with the love and support of my friends and family, I got back on the bike and won the Tour de France five times in a row. But I'm sure you have a good reason to quit. So what are you dying of that's keeping you from the finals?
Right now it feels a little bit like... shame.
Well, I guess if a person never quit when the going got tough, they wouldn't anything to regret for the rest of their life. Well good luck to you Peter. I'm sure this decision won't haunt you forever.
Anyways. Beneath the crass exterior, I actually really liked it. It was a bit therapeutic after this weekend. Perhaps I will expound more details later, but let's just say that after you're winning 4-1 and hurt your foot to the point of not being able to stand on your toes and end up losing 6-5 to the person who ends up winning...and fighting another match with a busted foot and losing on a 2-2 sudden death superiority decision...you do some thinking.
Ya, I've been watching the dodgeball tournament on the Ocho. ESPN 8. I just can't get enough of it. Good luck in the tournament. I'm really pulling for you against those jerks from Globo Gym. I think you better hurry up or you're gonna be late.
Uh, actually I decided to quit... Lance.
Quit? You know, once I was thinking of quitting when I was diagnosed with brain, lung and testicular cancer all at the same time. But with the love and support of my friends and family, I got back on the bike and won the Tour de France five times in a row. But I'm sure you have a good reason to quit. So what are you dying of that's keeping you from the finals?
Right now it feels a little bit like... shame.
Well, I guess if a person never quit when the going got tough, they wouldn't anything to regret for the rest of their life. Well good luck to you Peter. I'm sure this decision won't haunt you forever.
Friday, January 05, 2007
eye to eye
I love my Jewish brother. He found a page in Sports Illustrated and thought of me. It was quite appropriate, too, given the fact that my hamstrings are on the verge of snapping. I'm a sucker for inspiration.
Me and running don't always see eye to eye. Some days it hurts more than others. But it doesn't mean I don't do it. I deal with it and I keep running because not everything that is good for you always feels good for you. EVERY DAY IS THE DAY. -Lance Armstrong 10//2
Which I suppose is inspirational because it's also Biblical.
No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. -Hebrews 12:11
So yeah, sometimes it doesn't feel good. It's not ideal. Things don't work out the way you would have liked - sometimes quite the opposite. It hurts. Sometimes it hurts a lot. But sometimes you have to push, and sometimes you have to be strong because your seniors can't be, and sometimes...you just have to deal with the hand you're dealt.
Taekwondo and I don't always see eye to eye. But it's good for me.
Off to Colorado for this. If you feel so inclined to pray for me...my hamstrings and I would be grateful.
Me and running don't always see eye to eye. Some days it hurts more than others. But it doesn't mean I don't do it. I deal with it and I keep running because not everything that is good for you always feels good for you. EVERY DAY IS THE DAY. -Lance Armstrong 10//2
Which I suppose is inspirational because it's also Biblical.
No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. -Hebrews 12:11
So yeah, sometimes it doesn't feel good. It's not ideal. Things don't work out the way you would have liked - sometimes quite the opposite. It hurts. Sometimes it hurts a lot. But sometimes you have to push, and sometimes you have to be strong because your seniors can't be, and sometimes...you just have to deal with the hand you're dealt.
Taekwondo and I don't always see eye to eye. But it's good for me.
Off to Colorado for this. If you feel so inclined to pray for me...my hamstrings and I would be grateful.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
so you're saying there's a chance...
A few months ago, my boss challenged me to an arm wrestling match. Yesterday, he remembered and made me go through with it, right in the middle of Keumkangsan.
I lost. With both arms. (Meaning, we wrestled left first then right, not that I lost after getting to use 2 hands).
And then he promptly went on to explain "mathematically" why I had lost. (Actually, it's physics, but whatever). See, although I'm female, and not one of much upper body strength, I had youth on my side, and some degree of "athleticism". You would think that going up against a 60+ year old small Korean man would be somewhat evenly matched.
I realized with the first match that he caught me off-guard, as he immediately cocked his wrist and proceeded to take me down in about 3 seconds. I realized what he was doing (well, prior to his detailed explanation on torque and forces) and decided to do the same when we rematched with the right arm. But to my great surprise, he beat me out the gate and I was taken down yet again.
How humbling. And educational.
So it turns out that he, as the golfer, has very developed forearms and wrists - everything below the elbow. Me, as the Taekwondoist, well...I have developed legs but that wasn't useful to me unless I was going to kick him under the table and catch him off-guard. Just kidding. If anything, I would have developed shoulders and biceps/triceps (which I don't) from punching and doing pushups. (Theoretically.) So although I may have been stronger than him in the bulk of my arms, he one-upped me by being stronger in the muscles that were needed to strategize from the get-go.
Not to say that I should have been the favorite to win this match - but I didn't expect to lose that handily. He had created out of our respective strengths and weaknesses, a foolproof way to win. What does this mean? It means there's always a chance, if you approach a problem in the right way.
Well, that and I really should have known. He's a Korean man. Men have pride. And no Korean man, regardless of how old, is going to go through with an arm-wrestling match with a girl in the middle of a Korean restaurant, without knowing that he's going to win. I should have known that just by insisting on going through with this match, he had a plan.
As Tum Tum said in one of my favorite movies growing up: "don't be overconfident". (Name that movie). You'd be surprised at what the underdog can do. And if you're the underdog, then...you always have a chance. And winners are those who take a small chance and turn it into something foolproof.
You learn something new every day...
I lost. With both arms. (Meaning, we wrestled left first then right, not that I lost after getting to use 2 hands).
And then he promptly went on to explain "mathematically" why I had lost. (Actually, it's physics, but whatever). See, although I'm female, and not one of much upper body strength, I had youth on my side, and some degree of "athleticism". You would think that going up against a 60+ year old small Korean man would be somewhat evenly matched.
I realized with the first match that he caught me off-guard, as he immediately cocked his wrist and proceeded to take me down in about 3 seconds. I realized what he was doing (well, prior to his detailed explanation on torque and forces) and decided to do the same when we rematched with the right arm. But to my great surprise, he beat me out the gate and I was taken down yet again.
How humbling. And educational.
So it turns out that he, as the golfer, has very developed forearms and wrists - everything below the elbow. Me, as the Taekwondoist, well...I have developed legs but that wasn't useful to me unless I was going to kick him under the table and catch him off-guard. Just kidding. If anything, I would have developed shoulders and biceps/triceps (which I don't) from punching and doing pushups. (Theoretically.) So although I may have been stronger than him in the bulk of my arms, he one-upped me by being stronger in the muscles that were needed to strategize from the get-go.
Not to say that I should have been the favorite to win this match - but I didn't expect to lose that handily. He had created out of our respective strengths and weaknesses, a foolproof way to win. What does this mean? It means there's always a chance, if you approach a problem in the right way.
Well, that and I really should have known. He's a Korean man. Men have pride. And no Korean man, regardless of how old, is going to go through with an arm-wrestling match with a girl in the middle of a Korean restaurant, without knowing that he's going to win. I should have known that just by insisting on going through with this match, he had a plan.
As Tum Tum said in one of my favorite movies growing up: "don't be overconfident". (Name that movie). You'd be surprised at what the underdog can do. And if you're the underdog, then...you always have a chance. And winners are those who take a small chance and turn it into something foolproof.
You learn something new every day...
Monday, January 01, 2007
new years resolution #1
New Year's resolutions are always tricky, and I always have difficulty toeing the line between what is realistic and what is idealistic. If there is one feeling that I really dislike, it's setting a goal and not achieving it. So I was thinking over the last few days as to what I really want out of 2007?
One of my students is a very precocious 8 year old girl, who has been studying privately with me for about a year and a half. I have various gamuts of drills that I have my students do that I suppose are unique to my teaching style - as in, they frequently involve cardio meshed into technique, or as they affectionately like to call them: torture drills. ("affectionately" being a loosely defined term). There is one particular set of plyo warmups that I have all my students do that involves a bit of coordination, leg strength, and endurance. Some of my students will groan, some will try to negotiate the number down, and some will grimace but suck it up and do it. As with most of the things I make them do, they know that it may not necessarily (read: won't be) be enjoyable, but that it's good for them (read: they don't have a choice).
One day last year, L and I were having a lesson, and as per usual, I told her to do a set on the big pad. Now, L is one of my youngest and smallest students at about 60 lbs and something like 3 and a half ft tall. We only have one size pad to do this plyo drill on, and for most people, the height is reasonable (but challenging when you're tired) for picking their legs up. Undersized for her age, L has to lift her legs about 25% higher in proportion just to clear the pad.
Usually when I tell people we're doing this drill, they look at me and ask "how many?" They're totally stalling for time and entertaining some delusional hope that I'm going to lower the number of reps. And I always shoot back "how many do we always do?" and they know it's 50's.
So that day when I told L to do a set, she looked at me and asked "how many?" So I asked "how many do we always do?" She replied, "50's?". I shot back "yep, you got it!" And to my surprise, she asked, "can I do 100's?"
Uh, what?
Never has any of my students asked for MORE. But L is crazy like that - if I tell her to do 50, she will ask for 100. If I tell her to do pushups, she'll ask if she can do them on her knuckles. If I tell her we're doing abs, she jumps up and down and claps. Why? Because she not only understands that it'll make her better, but because she (for some reason even I don't understand) actually LIKES these things.
I know, weirdo, right?
One of the most exhilirating things about teaching is when you see a student wanting to achieve their full potential - not just be willing to do what you ask, but to desire to go beyond the minimum and really push themselves...when you see them actually enjoy doing the things that are good for them. It makes you want to help them even more, and when they ask for more painful drills that are good for them, I'm more than happy to oblige. And it also really affirms me as a teacher, that when I announce that our lesson is over, she puts on a frown and says "aww...already??"
I know I certainly don't ask for 100 when I'm told to do 50. And I have definitely never done a single pushup more than I've been told, nor any more on my knuckles than absolutely necessary. (Though in my defense, I did have a broken hand for most of the past year). But somehow the will of an 8 year old challenged me to look at my own training habits.
This encounter with my student is like Matthew 7, and what it means to ask for good things. Obviously this passage has been misinterpreted to think that God should give us whatever we ask for, and that we can gripe when He doesn't grant our wishes like a good genie should. But I think that the key word in this passage is the "good" before the gifts. I'm not a parent (in the conventional sense) so I can't really say, but as a teacher, it was thrilling when my 10 year old asked me what pi meant. I was happy to digress from fractions and talk about geometry. And it's thrilling to see L become the student that she is capable of being - watching her grow and improve and take delight in it has been one of my greatest simple pleasures. How much happier must God be to see our characters grow as we struggle through the conditioning to become (well, hopefully) the men and women we were made to be...
Sometimes we know what is good for us, and we may even have the guts to ask for it. Those are dangerous prayers, because "be careful what you ask for" isn't a saying for nothing. I do firmly believe that if you ask for something challenging and refining to your character, you will get it - and probably regret in the moment that you asked for it. But life is kind of like knuckle pushups - it hurts every part of your body, but if you build up the strength in your arms and your core to distribute the weight evenly, and condition your knuckles to be strong - then it really doesn't have to be so painful.
And then your punches are super awesome!
And so my first new year's resolution is to ask for good things. Whatever that means. As most things are with me, there has to be a tangible, practical application. So in 2007 - barring any further debilitating injuries to my hands, wrists, or arms - I want to be able to do real pushups, knuckle or otherwise. There are very few women out there who can do them right, and I want to be one of them.
7"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. 8For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened. 9"Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? 10Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? 11If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him! -Matthew 7:7-11
One of my students is a very precocious 8 year old girl, who has been studying privately with me for about a year and a half. I have various gamuts of drills that I have my students do that I suppose are unique to my teaching style - as in, they frequently involve cardio meshed into technique, or as they affectionately like to call them: torture drills. ("affectionately" being a loosely defined term). There is one particular set of plyo warmups that I have all my students do that involves a bit of coordination, leg strength, and endurance. Some of my students will groan, some will try to negotiate the number down, and some will grimace but suck it up and do it. As with most of the things I make them do, they know that it may not necessarily (read: won't be) be enjoyable, but that it's good for them (read: they don't have a choice).
One day last year, L and I were having a lesson, and as per usual, I told her to do a set on the big pad. Now, L is one of my youngest and smallest students at about 60 lbs and something like 3 and a half ft tall. We only have one size pad to do this plyo drill on, and for most people, the height is reasonable (but challenging when you're tired) for picking their legs up. Undersized for her age, L has to lift her legs about 25% higher in proportion just to clear the pad.
Usually when I tell people we're doing this drill, they look at me and ask "how many?" They're totally stalling for time and entertaining some delusional hope that I'm going to lower the number of reps. And I always shoot back "how many do we always do?" and they know it's 50's.
So that day when I told L to do a set, she looked at me and asked "how many?" So I asked "how many do we always do?" She replied, "50's?". I shot back "yep, you got it!" And to my surprise, she asked, "can I do 100's?"
Uh, what?
Never has any of my students asked for MORE. But L is crazy like that - if I tell her to do 50, she will ask for 100. If I tell her to do pushups, she'll ask if she can do them on her knuckles. If I tell her we're doing abs, she jumps up and down and claps. Why? Because she not only understands that it'll make her better, but because she (for some reason even I don't understand) actually LIKES these things.
I know, weirdo, right?
One of the most exhilirating things about teaching is when you see a student wanting to achieve their full potential - not just be willing to do what you ask, but to desire to go beyond the minimum and really push themselves...when you see them actually enjoy doing the things that are good for them. It makes you want to help them even more, and when they ask for more painful drills that are good for them, I'm more than happy to oblige. And it also really affirms me as a teacher, that when I announce that our lesson is over, she puts on a frown and says "aww...already??"
I know I certainly don't ask for 100 when I'm told to do 50. And I have definitely never done a single pushup more than I've been told, nor any more on my knuckles than absolutely necessary. (Though in my defense, I did have a broken hand for most of the past year). But somehow the will of an 8 year old challenged me to look at my own training habits.
This encounter with my student is like Matthew 7, and what it means to ask for good things. Obviously this passage has been misinterpreted to think that God should give us whatever we ask for, and that we can gripe when He doesn't grant our wishes like a good genie should. But I think that the key word in this passage is the "good" before the gifts. I'm not a parent (in the conventional sense) so I can't really say, but as a teacher, it was thrilling when my 10 year old asked me what pi meant. I was happy to digress from fractions and talk about geometry. And it's thrilling to see L become the student that she is capable of being - watching her grow and improve and take delight in it has been one of my greatest simple pleasures. How much happier must God be to see our characters grow as we struggle through the conditioning to become (well, hopefully) the men and women we were made to be...
Sometimes we know what is good for us, and we may even have the guts to ask for it. Those are dangerous prayers, because "be careful what you ask for" isn't a saying for nothing. I do firmly believe that if you ask for something challenging and refining to your character, you will get it - and probably regret in the moment that you asked for it. But life is kind of like knuckle pushups - it hurts every part of your body, but if you build up the strength in your arms and your core to distribute the weight evenly, and condition your knuckles to be strong - then it really doesn't have to be so painful.
And then your punches are super awesome!
And so my first new year's resolution is to ask for good things. Whatever that means. As most things are with me, there has to be a tangible, practical application. So in 2007 - barring any further debilitating injuries to my hands, wrists, or arms - I want to be able to do real pushups, knuckle or otherwise. There are very few women out there who can do them right, and I want to be one of them.
7"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. 8For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened. 9"Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? 10Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? 11If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him! -Matthew 7:7-11
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