glamming like a mofo

I don't know why, but I found this conversation to be funny. I would like to meet the guy who makes me "glam like a mofo".
* * * * *

haha i guess being pretty counts for a lot to you people huh?

"we people"?

who is that?

dudes?if so, then yes -- we are visual creatures

otherwise why would you creatures doll yourselves up all the time?

you certainly don't do it for the good of your health ;)(and yes, that includes you who doesn't glam up regularly -- for a guy who loved you, you totally would...)

anyhoo, are you ready for the best part of this whole situ?

yeah go ahead

and i don't glam

haha

glam

one day, my child, you will be in love with a dude who is in love with you and treats you like a princess

and if he asks you very sweetly to glam for him, you'll be glamming like a mofo

(just fyi)

enough

Make him Asian, slap some white pajamas on him, and throw some bruises everywhere. Why they decide to drug test people who are obviously devastated, I don't know. The last thing you want to do when you want to be alone is have some stranger follow you around to watch you pee in a cup. Yet another reason men have it so much easier than women - it's just physiologically so much more convenient.

Some may say it wasn't my fault. Or that I didn't have the resources to make it my absolute best. But enough is defined by whether the goal was achieved or not - and it wasn't enough.

A and I were flipping channels on Sat night and trying to decide between two movies: MI2 and Pay It Forward. He had seen both before, and I had seen neither. He didn't remember the endings, but figured I would like Pay It Forward, since MI2 is suspenseful. So we're watching, and halfway through he falls asleep, only to be woken by my indignance at the end [spoiler, sorry, but you probably weren't going to watch it anyways] that the main kid is stabbed unnecessarily and dies. I was seriously upset. And his argument to try and soothe me (albeit, he was half asleep already) was "it's OK, he doesn't die, you can watch him in other movies and see that he's older".

There's a reason I don't watch movies or dramas that don't have happy endings.

When God Says No - M. Lucado

There are times when the one thing you want is the one thing you never get. You’re not being picky or demanding; you’re only obeying his command to “ask God for everything you need” (Phil 4:6). All you want is an open door or an answered prayer, for which you will be thankful.
And so you pray and wait.

No answer.

You pray and wait.

No answer.

You pray and wait.

No answer.

You pray and wait.

May I ask a very important question? What if God says no? What if the request is delayed or even denied? When God says no to you, how will you respond? If God says, “I’ve given you my grace, and that is enough,” will you be content?

Content. That’s the word. A state of heart in which you would be at peace if God gave you nothing more than he already has. Test yourself with this question: What if God’s only gift you to you were his grace to save you. Would you be content? You beg him to save the life of your child. You plead with him to keep you business afloat. You implore him to remove the cancer from your body. What if his answer is, “My grace is enough.” Would you be content?

You see, from heaven’s perspective, grace is enough. If God did nothing more than save us from hell, could anyone complain? If God saved our souls and left us to spend our lives leprosy-struck on a deserted island, would he be unjust? Having been given eternal life, dare we grumble at an aching body? Having been given heavenly riches, dare we bemoan earthly poverty?

Let me be quick to add, God has not left you with “just salvation.” If you have eyes to read these words, hands to hold this book, the means to own this volume, he has already given you grace upon grace. The vast majority of us have been saved and then blessed even more!

But there are those times when God, having given us his grace, hears our appeals and says, “My grace is sufficient for you.” Is he being unfair?

In God Came Near, I've told how our oldest daughter fell into a swimming pool when she was two years old. A friend saw her and pulled her to safety. What I didn't tell was what happened teh next morning in my prayer time. I made a special effort to record my gratitude in my journal. I told God how wonderful he was for saving her. As clearly as if God himself were speaking, this question came to mind: Would I be less wonderful had I let her drown? Would I be any less a good God for calling her home? Would I still be receiving your praise this morning had I not saved her?

Is God still a good God when he says no?

t-minus go

do you really think i'm going to win?

of course i do! i wouldn't be going all the way to texas if i didn't!

promise me one thing?

yes
?
i guess?

please don't leave me. not that i plan on losing. but if i do...

i was never planning on it. as long as you don't give up.

you know i won't. you beat that out of me a long time ago.

then i won't leave you. now you have nothing to be afraid of, right?

ok.

so fight like you have nothing to lose.

interesting....

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

the tipping point

People ask me why I write poems, rap songs, and/or find dorky jokes for small group announcements. It is my firm belief that if you make something interesting, people may actually read your emails and do what you want them to do. (Very big pet peeve when people don't read their emails). For example, I've been ignoring these emails about March Madness pools (basketball is the one mainstream sport I never followed) for years and never participated. Didn't think it applied to me. But if you give me a clever reason to laugh, I'm willing to give in.

Though I have to say...is it a bad thing if I made my picks based on which teams had better mascots/logos? Dang, that sounded so girly. I hang my head in shame.

* * * * *

Okay, in the last week or so, I've heard all the excuses:

"Sorry, I can't, work is really busy"

"Sorry, I can't, I have an IV conference in San Francisco, all the way across the country!"

"Sorry, I can't, I'm getting married in two weeks"

"Yes, but I have three finals in two weeks and I haven't studied all quarter"

(okay, that last one was me)

Well, everyone, I timed it.

It takes 1 minute, 32 seconds to register, and that is if you sit and try to think up a clever team name. 1 minute 32.3 seconds if your pop-up blocker blocks the link below and you have to press the control button before clicking the link.

It takes 4 minutes, 43 seconds to pick teams, and that is if you look up where each region is playing.

6 minutes and 15 seconds. No one is too busy not to have a spare 6 minutes and 15 seconds in his or her life. If your time is that compressed, maybe you need to reevaluate your schedule.

To put it in perspective, it takes 37 seconds to read this email so far (subtract a second for ever year it's been since you graduated from MIT). And it took the nerds among you another 37.4 seconds to look up at the clock and reread the email (please don't send me anything letting me know how fast you can read). So just delete the next 10 emails that arrive in your inbox without reading them, and you'll have saved just about enough time to enter the pool. Delete the next 11 if you want to be sure.

You no longer have any excuse. ("I don't follow sports" is NOT an acceptable excuse)

niketown

Had the night off (surprisingly, for the first time in...forever). Workout went long because of the promotion test, but by the time I got home it was still light outside. I contemplated what to do with myself - finish off my essay, practice for chicki's wedding, pay some bills, take care of emails, wash my smelly gear...

In the end, it was a gorgeous night and I felt like being frivolous. I figure, I'm far too responsible and anal for my own good 99.9% of the time. May as well go out and do some thinking and "be unproductive" for fun. In the words of lakim back in college - have a *hot* date with self.

But even in my quest to do something frivolous - I ran into too many analytical processes. So in the end, I thought, what can I do that will make me feel like I'm not totally wasting my time (ie. overcome the activation energy to leave the apt) but not be tiring and draining 'work'?

The answer was obvious. Go to Niketown.

Some people treat themselves with a good meal. Well, I guess this is my good meal. On every floor, they have inspirational quotes from famous athletes. (I love quotes.) So I trekked down there and walked a complete tour of all 5 floors, soaking in the inspiration (and looking at the pretty dri-fit and cool ipod running stuff). My favorite:

when I played tag - I was never 'it'

Trying to get in the right mindset by rewatching the highlights tapes from the 2000 Olympics. (Thanks JAAC - yes, I still have it.) Pump, pump, pump it up.

"There's no such thing as winning the silver - there's only losing the gold."

here we go, yo

OK it's up.

Now I'm nervous. And my head hurts.

hey jealousy

4Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 1 Cor. 13:4-7

Have you ever been in a competition against a friend? And lost? What do you do with the mixed bag of emotions, when your happiness for them is weighed against your disappointment for yourself?

When I look at D&D (my coach's sons), I see classic sibling rivalry between brothers. There have been times that I've seen D1 (age 11) torture D2 (age 7) because he's just bigger, stronger, and faster - he will outrace him and taunt him and D2 will inevitably be the classic younger brother and stamp his feet and cry. "hyung-ah, it's not FAIR!!"

D2 was constantly jealous of all the attention that D1 seemed to get over him. (Which is ironic, because younger children actually get more attention - but the inferiority complex probably blinds them to this fact). So a couple years ago, when D2 turned 5, he apparently made an announcement to his parents: "I'm 5 now. I want music lessons and to play on sports teams like hyung-ah. It's MY turn!" After years of following his brother to recitals and games and watching - he wanted the same things.

It's tough being a younger sibling and in someone else's shadow.

But there have been times that I have spent with them, that I see glimpses of this genuine 1 Cor. type of love between these brothers.

A couple years ago, before D2 started TKD, we were at this local tournament. It was one of the few times that D1 competed, and he was a blue belt. I was coaching him (with Sab Sr biting his nails and turning red in the background) and he won two matches before losing in the semifinals to a pretty good kid from NJ. I remember seeing D2 hovering around his brother the whole tournament, following him around and sitting front and center whenever he fought. When his matches were over, we came out of the ring, and D2 barrelled D1 over with a big hug. For the rest of the day you could hear him bragging "did you see my brother??? hyung-ah was awesome!!!"

For all the envy that he possessed day to day about living in his brother's shadow - he was genuinely proud of and happy for his brother that day. Why? Because he was able to see his brother's accomplishments for what they were, and not focus on what they were with respect to himself.

For a more 'real' example, someone told me recently that s/he was happy for person X that they were dating, but that s/he was kind of jealous because s/he wanted that kind of situation for him/herself. I think it definitely hits home in this age of the 20's when there are weddings and engagements around every corner. (Trust me - 9 of my friends got engaged in 2006. Not to mention the OMC business. If you're single, you're reminded of it somehow.)

With respect to envy, I think that loving others means truly being happy for them, without that twinge of envy that comes from comparison. It's only when you can extract yourself (and what you may lack in comparison) to others that you can truly share in their joy.

let's get it started

Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint -Isaiah 40:31

My boys and I have this cardio routine we do every week. It involves 9 rounds of 3 minutes on the jump rope. Each round is a different focus for footwork and strength - 3 minutes doesn't sound very long, but when you're trying to do kicks or footwork or freaking knee ups as fast as you can...it pretty much sucks.

As if that wasn't enough, in between the rounds we sprint for a minute back and forth. Have you ever tried sprinting as hard as you can for a minute? It's a pretty long time. If you're doing it right, your lungs should be wanting to explode by 20 seconds. And then you realize you're only a third of the way there.

At the end of each sprint, we're heaved over trying to catch our breath - only to have to start jump roping again. And so it goes. It's a great cardio workout and in retrospect feels pretty good to be exhausted - but while you're doing it, you're just constantly trying to fight off mental and physical fatigue.

Today we decided to be hardcore and do all the cardio with all our gear on. As in, putting on armpads, shinpads, a chest protector, and a helmet and having all that extra weight and suffocation so that we'd get tired faster and have to push harder. So close to the tournament, I guess we have to up the stakes day by day.

So as I was heaving today and trying to dog it through all the sprints with all this extra weight enclosing me, I thought to Isaiah. When you hit rock bottom and your legs are too sore to move, your eyes are too dry to blink, and your brain shuts off at the thought of blowing out the processor with too much information requests - the notion of running without growing weary is really crazy.

But God is crazy like that.

I'm reminded that regardless of all the extra weight we carry that makes it harder to get through our 'workout' - or perhaps even when we pile it upon ourselves - His grace is sufficient.

How would you run if you knew you wouldn't get tired?

t-minus 12

identity crisis

My boss doesn't really know how to use computers very well. Not that I'm all that savvy either, but growing up in this age (as opposed to being 60) I can at least navigate programs and use MS Office.

So he calls me into his office the other day because he needs to create some Word and Excel documents for a coordination meeting, and make pdf's and what-not. After figuring out what he needed, I took care of his problems. He was so happy to have it done so quickly, he patted me on the back and said "good boy!"

To which I replied "I'm a GIRL"

"Oh right. Good girl!"

What am I, a dog that just rolled over? And just a public service announcement for everyone: I'm a girl. Thanks.