"Don't freak out"

Trying to figure out what someone else is thinking and not stepping on their toes is really hard. Especially when there's no hard and fast rule.

They say I'm supposed to be selfish with my training. And then they say that the only right answer is "yes, sir". Well, when lackey duties begin to cut into training, then I can't always say "yes, sir" with a clear conscience. And then what? Meltdowns, that's what.

"Don't freak out"

HAHA. I can't believe that's advice. It's like when Adolfo said his fast kicks were bad because he leans back and he said "then don't lean back". Leave it to Sabs to state the obvious...

If I can make it through Nov. 21st without a major meltdown, I will have mastered the art of time management and multitasking. That would be so super duper dandy...

My head hurts from being hit with the paddle yesterday. Haha but it was worth it to make him make that face. I think I kind of like it. Except it hurt.

Boy do I suck at pushups. Whoever invented knuckle pushups should be shot. Or at least hit on the head with a paddle.

ouch

"You have to have an attitude that allows you to chuckle while a guy is pounding you in the face. Not that it's funny, but if you start worrying about that stuff, it will get to you." -Dave Casper

Yay for Erica-quotes! Dug this one up, it seemed appropriate given last night's happenings.

I was kicked in the face yesterday for the first time in a really long time. Well, no, I was kicked in the face plenty in Greece by the Korean girl. I have no idea what this kick was that Sr did, something like a shuffle step mix of front kick/axe kick/high turning kick. But it caught me square in the chin and hit me upwards and took me to the ground. He pulled it a little, but not much. And right when it hit, I heard him breathe out sharply and say "oh no..."

But not for long, because the moment of sympathy was masked by Jr on the side chewing me out for crying and not getting up.

So different, the two of them. Jr gave me an 8 count and then called a "break" and made me come over to him to get under control. "Christina come HERE. NOW. Christina. CHRISTINA. Look at me. NOW." Now that I think about it, maybe it was kind of funny how mad he was getting. James always says that his face turns red and he starts waving his arms around. Maybe I was ignoring him, maybe I wasn't. I definitely heard him, I just didn't want to stand in front of him and cry because I know he hates that.

I think that's the first time he's used that tone of voice with me in a long time. It was a little bit different than the usual chewing out, which is either an exasperated "WHY?!?!" or a quiet but sharp order. This one was really...stern. Actually, what it reminded me of was the time that Rich and I were training before Collegiate Trials and I had the meltdown right in the middle of kicking. He used the same tone. Which is strange because one person is my senior and one is my junior.

So what was it, exactly? He's right, it's not the hardest I've ever been hit in the face. It didn't draw blood. Well, not much. I have a nice bruise on my chin, but it's not any more noticeable than a violin bruise would be. I was wearing a headgear, though that didn't help.

I felt awful, but apparently I sparred OK after that. Maybe suck-uppage is getting better after all. It was rather satisfying to hit Sr with some solid badachagi's. Even with the 8-count, I think I would have won if we were counting points. Though I still feel like a loser because he made me cry. But for the first time, despite having cried, I kind of did want to come back and kick him in the face too. So strange, to want to kick your Sabs in the face - so seemingly wrong. But I think that's what they're trying to get at.

T-minus 12 days.

Note to self: When the inside of your mouth is cut up, it might be a good idea to take Tabasco out of the diet until it's healed.

Epilogue

Reading this made me remember the memorial service for Sabs' father earlier this year. And various parts make me think of my own father, especially just looking at the history of Korea in the last 50 years. Though my father is probably about 15 years younger than theirs, they fled North Korea around the same time, probably came to America around the same time...had entirely different careers but perhaps many of the same struggles and sufferings. It really makes me appreciate the resilience and drive of our people, at times, just to survive. I can see why we hold so strong to our identity - because there was so much history where it could have been lost and we stubbornly hung on. I say "we" as though I lived through those times - my parents were barely born then. But even today, in American society - sometimes it's a struggle to hold onto it, to embrace it.

As they described their father, I could remember, when I would come down to practice, he would be sitting on the side, watching. And it's true, I don't think I've ever heard him speak. But he was always there, watching fondly, picking up after Derek and Dylan and even Milan. Proud.

During the latest meltdown, S Sr extracted one of the main sources of stress on my mind - that by moving to NYC and pursuing what was important to me, I was living with the grief of disappointing my parents. A typical source of Asian trauma in our sacrificial, community-centered society. I don't have the job, the status, the security that I "should" have had.

And he said this: "if my brother and I did everything that our parents told us to do, we wouldn't be half the men we are today".

It's true. Not that we should disobey your parents because their age and experience far outweigh our shortsighted will. And no matter how individualistic American culture may be, I'll never be disconnected from them. However, it's encouraging to see that the result of their "disobedience" in following their dreams resulted in a source of pride, joy, and in a way, healing.

I hope that one day, my dad will walk around my dojang, tying belts on little kids and greeting people at the door. That my mom would give some kid raisins and tell her to put it in her bag for later if she got hungry, scrape her off the floor and massage her legs when she went flying across the room crying in a dead heap after sparring, and hold her hand while they talked.

In memory of Won Yung Whang.

****************************

Epilogue

"Thank You Dad" was written in 2000. In May 2004, our father Mr. Won Yung Whang passed away. For the last 18 years of his life, our father lived with the debilitating effects of a stroke he suffered in 1986, which initially left him paralyzed on his right side. The stroke was stress-induced, the result of a perfect storm of financial and personal challenges that came together and boiled over that year. Although he eventually recovered his physical functioning, he never recovered his speech.

When my brother and I opened West Side Taekwondo in 1992, we could never have anticipated one side benefit that would become a source of great pride for both of us. The frustrations of living with the effects of his stroke had left my father listless, unsocial, and inactive, and that's how he was in 1992. Soon after we opened the school, our father began to come to the school to visit. A trickle of visits became, within a few months, his "job". He started coming to the dojang every day, and soon became a fixture. He would wordlessly greet the children and receive their greetings, help them tie their belts, share a quiet meal with Mr. Lim, and to make himself otherwise useful. Six days a week, coming to the dojang became the most important part of his life, so much so that he hated leaving New York. On one occasion, my sister had to literally "kidnap" him under false pretenses (telling him that she was just driving him home to Queens) to drive him and my mother up to Boston to spend a holiday. I think he was forever suspicious of rides in my sister's car after that day!

My brother and I would mostly see him on Saturdays, since his "day" would be over in the early evening, once the children went home, and before my brother and I would show up to teach the adult classes at night. For Derek and Dylan, Saturday with Grandfather became a routine, one that I'm sure he enjoyed and looked forward to as much as they did. Whenever I saw him at the school, observing classes, watching promotion tests, I could see his pure joy of being amongst the students, the family at West Side, and how proud he felt that his sons had created this institution.

I said in my essay that my brother and I are grateful to my Dad for having given us the gift of Taekwondo. In turn, the art that has brought us so much joy and learning and friendship and passion, allowed us to give our father back a gift, one that gave him a wonderful reason to keep on living every day.

We relocated to our current location at 99th Street and Amsterdam Avenue at the end of April, 2004. We are grateful that our father was able to see the new dojang just before his passing; he was so pleased at how new everything was, and how enthusiastic everyone was about this new beginning. He no longer greets students as they come in, but for me, our dojang, wherever it might be, will forever be etched with the spirit and memory of students coming to take class, bowing to my father, and my father, smiling back and shaking their hands.

Our father was born to humble parents in the humblest of countries in a time that might as well have been the middle ages. He lived through the national humiliation of Japanese occupation of his homeland, where Koreans were second-class citizens in their own land. He lived through the euphoria of liberation from Japan, only to see Korea become a pawn in the global cold war. Seeing where North Korea was headed ideologically, he escaped from his home in what is now North Korea in his early 20's, never to see his family again. He lived and fought through the brutality of brother killing brother in the Korean War. He served as a military officer after graduation from the prestigious Korean Military Academy, while simultaneously working on a civilian degree from Kyung Hee University. After he war, he was admitted to the Korean Foreign Ministry, and served in the first Korean Embassy in Tokyo. His career took him on to Manila (Philippines), Buenos Aires (Argentina), Osaka (Japan) and Fukuoka (Japan). In 1981, he was unceremoniously cast aside by the government he had served for 25 years .

To our father, who faithfully served God and his country, first as a military officer, then as a seasoned diplomat, becoming, along the way, a sophisticated world traveller, and then chose the hardship of life as a first generation American immigrant in order to be with his children, we say, you lived an amazing and brave life. May your courage, and the pureness of your spirit always be a guide to your sons.

Thank You Dad.

Success

Success

To laugh often and much;
to win the respect of intelligent people
and the affection of children;
to earn the appreciation of honest critics
and endure the betrayal of false friends;
to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others;
to leave the world a bit better,
whether by a healthy child,
a garden patch
or a redeemed social condition;
to know even one life has breathed easier
because you have lived.
This is to have succeeded.

Theoretically this quote is attributed to Emerson, though many will say that it wasn't actually him who said it. No matter...it's still a good quote either way.

After practice I was talking to Sabs in their office and Dylan comes running in. "Where's my belt? I NEED my belt for the party!" It's really amazing what's sooooo important to a little kid at any given moment. He was pacing around the room like the world was going to end if he didn't find his belt. Hahaha...Dylan is 5 and recently started taking PeeWee classes and is a white belt now...he's SO proud of having 3 stripes on his belt. There was a kiddie birthday party at the dojang today, and Derek and Dylan were running around with the other kids and came down to get their uniforms. I gave them the t-shirts I brought back for them from the Olympic Training Center and it was quite possibly the most satisfying moment I've had all week. Gift giving is so fun like that. Derek's was like, "wow cool! Thanks sparky noona!" A typical reaction from a 9-year-old...but Derek's always genuine, that's what I like about him. But Dylan's eyes lit up and when Sab was told him to thank me, he runs over and barrels me with a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Totally made my day.

I remember last month during the meltdown when S Sr sat me down and we had a heart to heart over life, stress, pressure, and the like. And I remember, as he tried to sort through the various things that were on my mind and the growing pains of being in NYC and the dojang, the first thing he said.

"My kids LOVE you. And that means more to me than whether you win or lose, teach or not."

It's time like these that I wonder how people can do this just for sport. How they don't see the joys that come from the family in the dojang. How good it feels to win a child over and have them want to come and play with you, or how important you feel when they come running to you with a scraped knee, or how motivating it is when they cheer for you on the sidelines when you're sucking wind.

I may drive Sabs crazy. And I know I do. But there are moments when I catch looks on their faces that betray that they actually do like me quite a bit and are happy that I'm here. I catch it at strange moments. When I'm teaching Thursday class and I tell everyone to line up and they're dragging - and then I start counting backwards from 5 and they scramble to get in line. When I'm playing with Derek and Dylan. When I make Adolfo do sidekicks. I mean, duh, of course, why doubt that sort of thing? But like, beyond the winning and status and being useful for gruntwork and teaching...it's not just about some calculated give-and-take.

I think I keep relearning to be liked for who I am and not just for what I do. As Dave Shin used to always say in our fsgl meetings..."we're human beings, not human doings".

Indeed.

Thank you, Sabs

So for those of you who don't know why my Sabumnims are so cool and why I admire and respect (and fear) them so much...here's a look. I remember reading this article that S Sr wrote, maybe 4 years ago. Back then I didn't really know who they were, but I remember being inspired in particular by this one.

And as I think back on this past weekend, and what it was like to be one of the few Koreans in the predominantly-white, possibly anti-Korean setting, and how antsy they were that I was being treated fairly, how indignant they were when it seemed like I wasn't, and how excited they were when I made the team - I realize that I see in them the Korean-American balance that I want to have. To get the best of both worlds. To be American (heck they lectured me about voting more than anyone else, and the ones that ultimately pushed me over the top to register) but to know and cherish and be proud of who I am.

Thank you, Sabs.

**************

Thank you, Dad

Dad was a diplomat for Korea, so my twin brother and I grew up all over the place. We were born in Tokyo, and grew up in Korea, the Philippines, Argentina, Japan and the U.S. So I remember my childhood as a series of separate lives with different friends, schools, languages, foods, tastes and smells.

I also have some very vivid memories of certain incidents in my life which I remember just because they came to define who I am.

My brother and I were four when we moved to the Philippines. When we were six, we enrolled in pre-school. It was a Filipino school, and we were the only Koreans in our class. In fact, we were the only Koreans, Japanese or Chinese kids in school at the time. We were also scrawny little kids - so small when we were born that my mother did not even know she was having twins until I was born, and the doctor regretfully informed by mother that there was one more left. My mom's reaction was to faint (from joy she claims, although knowing what I know now as a parent, it was probably from sheer terror at the prospect of trying to raise 4 kids at the same time).

Kids being capable of brutally honest cruelty at that age, at the end of school one day, as we were waiting to be picked up, a group of about 20 of our schoolmates surrounded us in a tight circle and started closing in on my twin and me. They started chanting in unison, louder and louder, "JAP!!! JAP!!! JAP!!!", all the while using their hands to spread their eyes to make the moronic, but universally accepted symbol for "slant-eye".

At this point I would like to say that we used our Taekwondo skills to dispatch the ringleaders with a few spectacular kicks to the head, and send the rest of the gang scurrying away with their tails between their legs. Unfortunately for us, our first Taekwondo lesson was still a month away. Instead, my brother and I just squatted down in the middle of the circle, side by side, and started to cry...Alright, let's be honest, we started to bawl. The chanting around us just went on and on.

After what seemed like an eternity, out of the corner of my eye I saw salvation. Dad!!! My hero, come to save the day. He quickly approached us, and the band of thugs dispersed. He took my brother and me by the hand. Instead of comforting us, however, he was strangely cold. The ride back home was completely silent. When we got home, my father ordered us to go upstairs, change into our pajamas, even though it was 3 in the afternoon, and in one of the rare expressions of anger he has ever displayed, slammed our bedroom shut without saying a word to us. Why, I wondered?

A month later, we signed up for Taekwondo lessons with Master Young Man Park, the first Korean Master sent from Korea to teach in the Philippines. I remember the day after my first class, as I was going to sleep, my Dad came to tuck me in. He asked how Taekwondo class was. I said it was fine, but that my thighs hurt from the stretching. He just smiled and turned out the lights.

Two years later we moved to Argentina. We enrolled in a Scottish boys' school. As if we hadn't stood out enough in the Philippines, where at least the kids for the most part shared our black hair, here we were now among Scottish, English, American and Argentine kids. Blond hair and blue eyes was the norm. The names and the cruel funny eyes started immediately, with "JAP!!! JAP!!! JAP!!!" becoming "CHINITO - JAPONES!!! CHINITO - JAPONES!!! CHINITO - JAPONES!!!" chanted in a sing-song, almost catchy way. Just as quickly, my brother and I took out the kicks and punches. We settled scores every day for the first month with anyone who made fun of us because we were Korean. Big or small, it didn't matter, we took them all on. They all backed down after a kick or a punch. They became our friends. Some even became our best friends.

Dad never sat us down and told us why he was mad at us, and over the years I've wondered what went through his head that day, and on the day he signed us up for lessons. I know Dad well enough to know that he didn't enroll us in Taekwondo to create two belligerent fools who would try to settle every score physically (heck, we both became lawyers). But on the other hand, he never told us he enrolled us in Taekwondo so that we could learn to stand on our own two feet. He never gave us a pat on the back congratulating us for fighting for and winning our right to look Korean in a non-Korean world. And I've never thanked him for giving me the gift of Taekwondo.

Thank you, Dad.

comments

HAHAHA. So I check my blog this morning and think, hrmm 0 comments, what else is new...and then I realize there's a 1 before the 0...and that all 10 comments are from James. Haha...I should know better than to have a political opinion. This is why I stay out of things in the first place. Must be something about the name James - all my James's are so pro-Kerry and politically active. Hahaha...

Regarding abortion, yes I realize that life is complex but at the end of the day if you had to take a stand one way or hte other, I stand more to the pro-life side than the pro-choice side. Murder is murder, whether they're soldiers or unborn children. I wasn't saying that Bush was better for taking a pro-life stand - just saying that Kerry's not as great and everyone makes him out to be. At least, I'm not sold.

they didn't lose my application. bummer.

Spurred by Ji's post a few days ago regarding Kerry being a hypocrite about people dying in the war but holding his views on abortion, I actually decided to be an informed citizen (now that I'm forced to vote because they actually registered me, grr).

The more I read about Kerry, the more I dislike him. Which kind of sucks because I was just going to vote for him because Bush has already done a pretty bad job. But this kind of bothered me:

President Bush has pushed for a constitutional ban on gay marriages; Kerry has said he opposes same-sex marriages, but doesn’t favor amending the Constitution to ban them.

Kerry has said that he personally opposes abortion but does not oppose legal access to it.

So...yes, I've heard that Kerry is wishy-washy and doesn't take a stand etc. So my new question is this: Is it better to have a President who's ingenuine, or one who's genuinely stupid? Because even if someone isn't necessarily right, you have to respect someone who will stand up for what they believe in.

Hrrm...so what is this having to GO someplace and vote thing? Why can't we vote online? I don't want to take time out of my workday and not get paid...There better not be a line!

k-factor, and inspiration

I love the k-factor. I got called into the office yesterday and put in the chair. Yay they're proud of me! Though the way it was expressed was by smacking me on the back on their way out the door. Yay k-factor.

I'm so inspired...(thanks Basil)

"Seven years ago I became a Christian, and tonight God did something amazing for me. I tried to be as tough as I could, and do it my way, Game 1, and I think we all saw how that turned out. I knew that I wasn't going to be able to do this alone. And I prayed as hard as I could. I didn't pray to get a win or to make great pitches. I just prayed for the strength to go out there tonight and compete, and He gave me that. I can't explain to you what a feeling it was to be out there and to feel what I felt."

Curt Schilling

YAY!!!

GO SOX!!!

Haha I think I just like to go against the grain when people are so staunchly opinionated about something. So with all the Yankee hullabaloo in NYC, I had to internally root for the Sox. What a comeback...so cool. Actually, I didn't really care for either team, I just wanted to see good games. Sports are kind of cool when you're not emotionally tied up, sometimes.

Good conversations

Please come. If you do, I promise to win or die trying.

We have just booked our tickets to Natioanls. Non-refundable. Both of us.
At least one will be there, we won't let nonrefundable tix go to waste.

WAHOO!!!

Feeling recharged for the next month. It's going to be really grueling, but I've had a sudden surge of optimism and renewal after the camp. Now that my muscles are loosening up and it's finally sinking in. Nationals and Pan Ams back to back, that's going to be rough. But some of the doubts are clearing up, and demi-confrontation didn't blow up in my face. They're coming to Nationals for sure. And if I win, Adolfo said he'd get me a lifetime supply of Tabasco. Heh =)

**********

It became very real to me that I'm not a full-time athlete, and you're not
full-time coaches. We can't and shouldn't be. But it's still a fact and it
makes it harder.

On Sunday night, I was talking with people and the topic was, if OTC [the Olympic Training Center] brought back its resident program and you were asked to go, would you go? A lot of
people said yes right off the bat. I thought about it for awhile, and I actually said no. I think being around all those other people made me realize that despite how hard it is sometimes juggling career, teaching, training and all, I'm actually quite happy to be where I am and wouldn't want to train with anyone else. Even if I spend half my time trying to figure out if you're mad at me.

you CAN have it all
you CAN be intelligent and do TKD
you CAN have a life and be a successful athlete
you CAN practice TKD as a traditional martial art and retain the values of the martial arts and still be a great athlete.

I knew it! There may be sacrifice, lack of sleep, and a crazy time management - but I can have the best of all worlds. Or die trying...

It was a good weekend in that sense. A lot of soul searching and self-discovery amidst the grueling physical pain. In the end, even if I had a chance to train with any other coach(es), I wouldn't. And as I was saying to my friends that night...to me, a coach is not someone who has the most knowledge or experience or status. A coach is someone who can motivate me because I respect and admire them, trust as role models, caretakers and partners in a common goal. I can only hope to be as such for my kids.

WAHOO!!!

WAHOOO!!!!

Back from Colorado. More details to come, but for now:

Saturday was the most painful day of my life. I don't think I've ever pushed myself that hard in one sitting, without my teammates and coaches, to boot. Judging by the lactic acid buildup in my legs and the fact that all day Sunday I was walking down stairs backwards and walking bow-legged - yeah it pretty much sucked.

But in the end it was totally worth it. I'M GOING TO PAN AMS!!! And even though I sucked at running and things hurt and I didn't necessarily feel my best during kicking - in the end I smoked everyone in sparring, so I feel good about getting the spot.

Sabs are funny people. Funny how they're all aloof and don't appear to care all that much, and then it turns out they were freaking out on Saturday because they hadn't heard from me. And then it's always like "OK call me when this is done". Dude, why am I always the one who has to call?? I was going to be mean and say that I broke my foot or something (knock on wood) to see if he'd get worried, but then being a horrible liar, the words didn't come out. Oh, well. I'm glad he was freaking out. I was too.

I didn't call him after the first workout (track/sprints), but I called James and whined about how much it sucked. And then apparently he played it for Jr and he LAUGHED at me. Rawr.

After the kicking one, I was talking to him and then I hear in the background "sam-CHOON!"

"Dylan hang ON...I'm talking to sparky noona...Do you want to wish her good luck?"

So I talked to Dylan for awhile. Haha, conversations with 5-year-olds are super cute...if not super about nothing. At least it made me chill out for 5 minutes.

The walls in the OTC dorms were paper thin, so I couldn't really say much of anything about anyone without feeling totally self-conscious about it. Sab was getting impatient because I just couldn't get the words out in Korean. Between him and Rich, by the end of the trip everyone was making fun of me that every time I picked up the phone I'd switch into Korean. Yeah, well...little did they know I was talking about them...so there. Being bilingual is so handy sometimes.

Sunday I got to hang out with Margaret! Wahoo! Ah...how strange to be in Colorado together, but it was so good...sometimes you don't realize how much you miss someone until you see them again. Double pump! HAHA...

Thanks to everyone who prayed for the gimp-factor this weekend...wow, prayer sure works wonders. Aside from the massive soreness and ripping up the bottom of my foot, I escaped without any new injuries. Yay for prayer! (And for Celebrex!)

PUMPED! (HAHA)

GOOD LUCK THIS WEEKEND CHRISTINA!!!

As Sab. was making his announcement tonight about you, I couldn't help but think "I DEFINITELY have the best coach in the entire world." I made sure to let this other red blet know that you were my coach as she asked me your name =)

I KNOW you are going to kick ass, literally, this weekend. I expect nothing less from a true elite athlete!

your faithful disciple,
Mel


****************

Oh my goodness gracious. I have to win now - I'll never be able to show my face at the dojang again if I lose. She's super cute though. Reminds me of Margaret as a freshman. A little blasphemous with the disciple thing, but very cute. Must set an example for the kids.

T-minus 3 hours to departure. Packed, pep talked, drugged up and PUMPED (that's for you, Liza), haha (genuine haha).

And as a tribute to Erica...

"How many toes do you have?"
"EIGHT!"
"How many fingers do you have?"
"FOUR!"
"How many shins do you have?"
"ONE!"

OK, I'm ready to go. Pray for me on Sat...that everything stays in one piece and nothing new breaks or strains itself.

To Colorado I go...

T-minus 1 day

"Accept the pain, cherish the joys, resolve the regrets; then can come the best of benedictions." -Joan Mcintosh

I find it funny that I got this "refresh your soul" meditations thingy for Christmas from church way back in high school. And that it sat in my closet for years before I finally thought to use it. I mean, it's not like anyone thought to get it for me - it was the generic gift that year that "Santa harabuhjee" comes and gives to everyone. Over the years I've amassed a collection of "Chicken Soup for the Soul" and probably pounds and pounds of See's candy.

But this calendar of thoughts has actually been pretty inspiring. Well, at least thought-inducing. And as I try to dissect why I'm feeling so "pouty" these days (as Adodo calls it), it makes sense.

Accept the pain - there's nothing I can do about being injured. What hurts, hurts. Use it or don't. I've been icing, stretching, and taking massive amounts of drugs. There's nothing more I can do, so I may as well just accept that things aren't really going to feel great and just do what I can.

Cherish the joys - Even if 9/10 kicks stink - there was still a good one in there. Even if Sabs score a gajillion points on me and kick me in the head - I can still score a couple points. Even if I'm dead tired and want to throw up...hrmm OK there's no joy in throwing up. Scratch that one. Despite all the pressure to win this weekend - there have to be moments where it will be fun, training with new people, new coaches, new drills.

Resolve the regrets - Well. It's not like I can make last week come back. It's not like I can make Sabs have magically been able to be there when they weren't, or not had to teach when I did. What's done is done and if it was negative, then dwelling on it only makes what's coming negative. (Easy to say, hard to do).

It's the person in me who has to see everything turn out in the best possible way. To see everything maxxed out to full potential, and utter frustration when things go wrong. How to balance what can be with what just is.

I think that's the source of my frustration.

Funny, that's the source of theirs too.

I find this all to be some strange paradox where I absolutely disagree but simultaneously absolutely agree with them. It's weird.

So basically what this quote is saying is:

"Suck it up, smile, let sh*t go...and everything will be OK"

Somehow it makes more sense this way.

grr morning, grr

voting

On one of pyang's last posts, he said it was too late to register in NY. I finally caved and sent in my registration last week. I hope I hope I hope it got there too late and I can say that I tried but I was denied. I feel like I'm sick and I'm at the drugstore and they're all out of Sudafed and all they have left is Vicks 44 and Triaminic. They both taste awful and they both don't work, but you have no choice and have to pick one anyways. Ick.

the Q47 bus

Stood in the rain for a good half hour this morning waiting while the stupid bus driver took a nap. At least drive the bus around the corner and take your break, leaving it right next to the bus stop and leaving us all standing there waiting (IN THE RAIN) is just cruel.

people who don't wait their turn

So while waiting for the bus, a line generally forms. In the order that people got to the bus stop. You'd think that this makes sense. Right when the bus driver decides to start the bus up again, this guy comes around the corner, starts flagging the bus down (what, does he think it's not going to stop? it's going like 2 mi/hr) - and when the door opens he gets on. Well, not only was it incredibly rude considering there were at least 15 people in line - we all had to stand there while the bus driver lectures him about cutting the line.

Well I guess I'm glad he got a lecture, actually. It's worth another minute in the rain to know that at least he was reprimanded.

computers are magically random

GRR. I just spent an inordinate amount of time trying to install haloscan on this blog so that people who aren't members aren't ostracized to leave anonymous comments. However. Everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong, and no amount of logicial deleting gave me what I wanted. First it killed the formatting, then it killed the fonts, then it killed the Korean. RAWR! It has a mind of its own, I swear.

I think I got it to work now - but I almost killed my computer in the process. *sigh* What a waste of time. This better work...

My coworker offered to drive me to the subway because we stayed late working on this project. (Yay for real work to do, boo for interpreting crappy maps by Con Ed and Verizon). We go outside, and his car as gone. As in, STOLEN.

What a crazy day.

T-minus 2 days. Yes, Helen, I'm out of town this weekend...aw shucks. Tournament schedule is on the side bar if you want to know what weekends I'm gone...

I can't believe his car was stolen right out of the parking lot.

cheer

I was thinking about it this morning when I woke up, and I'm actually quite blessed to be surrounded by supportive people. Oftentimes I'm only thankful in retrospect. They express it in different ways, but I chuckled to myself as I was walking to PT this morning, thinking about Adolfo, Scott, and James jumping around like cheerleaders last night when I was being grumpy and stressed out.

"When I say sparky, you say grr! sparky!"

"grr!"

"sparky!"

"grr!"

"When I say sparky, you say noona! sparky!"

"noona!"

"sparky!"

"noona!"

"sparky!"

"noona noona noona!"

It's a learning-to-receive thing, I suppose. I have a hard time being cheered for when I don't feel like I deserve cheering. Like, I hate hearing about the good things I did when all I can think about is the bad things. I'm such a cranky-pants these days, boo me.

But despite how tired I am and maybe even starting to burn out at the dojang - I must admit there are shining moments of YAY! in there. Daniel came running out yesterday when I got there with a big "hi noona!" and a hug. And Derek and I chatted all the way back to the subway on Monday, Sab moved him between us so we could talk. Such a cute kid...such a chatterbox.

After Frankie's lesson yesterday I was dead tired and went to a corner of the downstairs space and went to sleep. Don't know how long I was out, even people kicking paddles didn't faze me...and then somehow I sensed Sab's presence and opened my eyes and he was standing over me.

Oops.

I couldn't tell if he was laughing at me or mad at me, my eyes weren't quite open yet as I stumbled around, trying to orient myself. James tells me later that he was watching me sleep for a good 5 minutes before I woke up. Oops...but someone should have woken me up, grr!

there's a loyalty that's deeper than mere sentiment

sorry about today
i'm feeling really poopy
i don't *really* hate you, you're a really good little bro

i know
thats why i am here

well i appreciate it
even if i don't say so at the time

i know
lil bros dont need to be given info they just act


Well. Despite it having been yet another crappy day, I must say, Adolfo and James are awesome. Adolfo's new cheers for me are actually quite cute...were I in the mood to hear them. Which I wasn't. But he and Scott and James did make me smile...which is a rarity these days.

I think Sabs have about had it with me. Any day now I think they're going to give up. I can feel them trying to grasp for anything because they're so frustrated. I would be too. Well, I am.

*sigh* I just want it to be next Tuesday and for all this to be over. Everything hurts.

half empty

Timing is funny sometimes. The "refresh your soul" meditation for today:

"Things turn out best for the people who make the best of the way things turn out." -Art Linkletter

Optimism...right. Well, how to make the best of 8 toes, 9 fingers, 1 shin and possibly 1 ham going into this weekend. That's the hard part about having multiple competitions in a row: you can't ever really give it your all because you have to maintain and make sure that you're in good shape for the next one.

Note to self: never tell your coach how you really feel, unless you want to get chewed out entirely in caps. What does he want me to do, lie? I'm a terrible liar.

There's a difference between the type of pressure when you know it doesn't matter whether you win or lose as long as you gave your best, and the pressure of when you know that at your best you should win no problem.

Need to snap out of this funk somehow. My legs could not possibly have forgotten how to kick. Must transform from Christina the Grump to Captain Sparky. Where oh where is my phone booth?

T-minus 4 days

"The only person standing in your way is you. If doing it for yourself isn't enough - do it for all the people you're representing. The people who are behind you - for my brother, for me. Don't let them take anything away from you because of who you are. Show them that you're proud to be a Korean-American."

WHAT DOES HE THINK I'VE BEEN DOING THIS WHOLE TIME???

Mmph.

And don't make me teach right before I have to compete. Partnering me with a red belt = teaching. Because I have to watch their kicks and correct them, and that takes energy and that means I'm not thinking about my kicks.

Rawr.

past meets present

Liza is my knockout twin! =) Heehee...congratulations for winning the US Cup team spot to Ireland! =) Wow, I know/have trained with everyone who made this team...congrats all around!

************

My worlds collided on Saturday when Nathan came to visit. It was so good to catch up and hang out with him, John, and Karen. They came to West Side and after practice we went to Saigon Grill with Adolfo, Scott, and Joonho. An interesting group...strange how old meets new...but it was fun. (Adolfo and Nathan commisserated on being smacked in the head by me.) Common topic of great discussion: whipped guys without spines and the high maintenance girls who whip them. Seems to be a common thread any TKD setting...eesh.

Hung around the apt for awhile, watching part of LOTR (ick, I don't think I could make it through a whole movie) and playing Cranium Conga. (Thanks Nancy and Erica, finally made good use of it!) Nathan got "a sport that doesn't use a ball". Didn't think he'd be so obvious, but when the timer started the first thing he did was self-cheer. Sadly, that's the first thing that comes to mind when you think TKD. Haha...

Went out with Grace for dinner, she picks good places to eat. =) Wow, the East Village sure is jumping on Saturday nights. I guess that's what normal 20-something's do. Grace left for a party and the 4 of us went back to Karen's apt...it was so fun to just sit around and talk and laugh...I really miss having peers. John and I were talking and realized that Karen and Nathan had totally fallen asleep and it was 3:30am. Or more like Nathan woke up all groggy to me fixing John's turning kick. Hahaha...ah, I miss JoHo, he was one of my favorites. So teachable and so responsive. Soaks everything up like a sponge. *sigh* It made me sad...eh.

While it's cool to be missed, it's hard to think about the gap (obvious and apparently not so obvious) that you leave that you can't just go back to fill. Yeah, it feels good to know that I made a big difference, but...to hear of the struggles and sentiments and know that you can't do anything from afar to really fix it even if the solutions seem simple...that's probably one of the hardest things for me. We had a really good talk, and hopefully some things became clearer. I'll probably make some phone calls or send some emails...but it's going to have to wait until next week. I can feel myself getting absorbed, and while it's selfish, I just can't right now.

As the honeymoon period of NY slowly wears off...I'm starting to miss Boston and people there. But not even that - it's more of what was there, even if a lot of those people aren't there anymore.

Sabs think I've moved on but as more time goes on I realize that it's not just something you can cut the cord with.