do you remember?

I was talking to my mom yesterday. (Loosely translated into English).

Mom: "I had a dream. I got a "feeling" that you'll be married by September."

me: (silent guffaw) "September of what year?"

Mom: "This year!"

me: "Um. I'm seriously starting to doubt your gift of prophecy"

pity

Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up! -Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

So these days, I've been training with my helmet on. Partly because it's a good way to get warm (ie. it's freaking suffocating). Partly because it makes everything a little bit harder (ie. it's freaking suffocating). And partly because my new haircut is so freaking short that strands come out of my ponytail so I need to clamp them back - even though the only thing I told the hair lady was that I needed to be able to tie it back. Sigh. Incompetance and hair in my face - my two pet peeves.

Anyways, so after all the cardio, I realized I hadn't had anything to drink for an hour, so I ran into the locker room to grab my Gatorade. Unfortunately, I realized too late that the cleaning guy had already been thru the women's locker room, and it wasn't dry yet. In a spectacularly uncoordinated display of flailing, I managed to step onto the soapy residue, let out a scream, have both my feet slip out from under me, crash my knee into the wall, and land squarely on the back of my head. Needless to say, I was immobilized for awhile on the ground - soaking in the soapy clorox-y floor cleaner which didn't feel all too clean.

While all this was happening, my friend - if I can call him that - does nothing. Even after time goes by, as I'm trying to yell his name to come help me because I can't move, and resorting to kicking the door with my good leg to get his attention - he's completely unconcerned. Nothing.

So granted, the music was on and he was probably standing close to the speakers, so I can understand if he might not have heard me ask for help. But to my credit, S was changing in the other locker room across the way - behind another set of closed doors, and he heard me. And upon later argument - ADP did hear me scream and see me fall initially.

Lucky for me, I was wearing the helmet, by the time he would have gotten annoyed at waiting and came to check if I was OK, I probably would have been unconscious.

I know this verse is used to explain why the Bible says we need community, that we need to make friends. I guess as I think about it more (and as my head hurting reminds me) - it's not so much about having people around (though that is also important). It's who those people are and what kind of relationship you have with them. And I guess it comes back to the card in the back pocket. When it comes down to it, who is going to stick around when it's ugly, it's inconvenient, when it just plain sucks?

Chin once gave this illustration when he was going through a disappointment with a friend - this will sound better with a Trinidadian accent, but only if you know him, I guess.

What if you were riding a bicycle, and you fell off and hurt yourself? What would a friend do? Does he run over and criticize your riding technique, telling you what you did wrong? No! His reaction is to come and pick you up, and see if you're OK. Judging by a friend's reaction, you can tell how they actually care about you.

So I guess my own disappointment forces me to think a bit. What if you slipped and fell? What would a friend do? I don't think it's so unreasonable to expect a friend to be concerned. Perhaps help you up. Perhaps not belittle you for being prone to injury.

Maybe I need some new friends. Or maybe I should walk through life wearing my helmet.

again

"There are times when the one thing you want is the one thing you never get...there are those times when God, having given us his grace, hears our appeals and says, "My grace is sufficient for you"...Is he still a good God when he says no?" -Max Lucado

When I look back at the last 6 years, there are several catch phrases from my coaches that stick out at me. But the single most memorable one (perhaps from the most repetition, or just the fact that it manifests itself everywhere) would have to be:

Life is not fair.

Over the years, I grew to feel this phrase was a cop-out - their way of just saying "suck it up" whenever they didn't have an answer for something. And there were and are many questions for which there are no answers.

With the Olympics upon us, I was looking up results from the various world and regional qualifying tournaments. And though I'm really happy for them, I have to say there is a part of me can't ignore the thorn in my side that jabs every time I see someone that I have fought - someone that I have beaten in the past - now going to the Olympics.

And as one of my old training partners lamented once upon a time, sometimes I too wonder - when is it going to be my turn? There is this intrinsic, perhaps ideal belief, that if you work hard enough, long enough, and you're good enough - that you will eventually get your "turn". Just once, the chips will fall your way, you'll get that perfect pitch down the middle, pieces will fit together...

But the reality is - you might not. You might choke. You might be cheated. You might get injured. The reality is - life is not fair. Times like these I have "the-prodigal-son-is-my-younger-brother" moments, shaking my fist and asking, "for all my work, where is my party?"

But you can only shake your fist for so long before your arm gets tired. So now that my arm's tired, I guess the new question is not "why is life not fair?" - but "what am I going to do about it?"

"The important thing is that those 20 boys know in 20 years, they didn't leave anything on the table. They played their hearts out. That's the important thing. -Miracle

So how many times do you play your heart out before you decide to let it go? Realistically speaking, it's a very real possibility to give your very best year after year, and for whatever reason - come up short. For every winner there are countless losers. And being a loser really stinks. Because whether you lost in the first round or lost in the finals - if your goal was to win it all, then you still lost.

It all has to do with how the goals were defined.

A former Olympian once made me promise that I wouldn't retire until I had achieved my goal. I supposed that's why he won the Olympics - he fought with a broken foot, broken fingers, broken everything, just so he wouldn't have to live with a broken heart.

As the new year approaches, I was meeting with the kid I mentor. Very bright, very curious - very lazy. In the quest to squeeze his potential out of him, we watched the movie "Akeelah and the Bee" and discussed what success means, and how to set and achieve goals. And as we outlined long and short-term goals for him, I realized - the path to success has everything to do with which goals you set when, and how you plan to achieve them.

Maybe that yin-yang crap wasn't a load of crap after all. All of this boils down to a marriage of realism and idealism, of relaxed and tense, simultaneously remembering and forgetting everything you know. What took me so long to see it, I don't know. But as I told my mentee - big goals are made up of little goals - some of which are the hardest of them all.

And the first step to the biggest goal of all - is the willingness to put your heart out there, knowing full well it could be stepped on, ground up, and left by the wayside. Again. All for that chance, that maybe, you just might get your turn.

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same." -Marianne Williamson/Akeelah and the Bee

rest

J: hey can we cancel tonights football session

in light of your sickness and my busy-ness
how are you feeling by the way

C: i'm ok just tired

maybe i'll go run instead

J: are you crazy

youre sick

you need to rest

C: i'm not dying

J: still

C: haha, ok ok

[later that night]

C away message: my head hurts. :(

J: BECAUSE YOU WERE RUNNING WHILE YOU WERE SICK!

* * * * *

How did he know?

I think I'm very bad at resting, particularly when I have a goal to strive towards. Which is funny because I had no problem staying home from work and sleeping - but was very disappointed at getting bailed on for football tonight. I ended up getting Scott to throw with me (I love my little brother!) for a little bit, so all was not lost. But J swears that that's why I'm not feeling well.

Hrmph.

Boo, sickness.

full circle

It's funny how things come full circle.

So back in the 2002-2003 season, there was one Tech (MIT's newspaper) article that came out about our Taekwondo club, and how we won the INCTL Cup. (The most glorious achievement of my short life thus far). The picture was of Nathan's match, taken in high digital quality in all his kiyup-ing splendor.





















All day long, people were coming up to him and congratulating him on getting his picture in the Tech and looking so badass. However, when I finally saw him at the end of the day, he was somewhat apprehensive to see my reaction - because the first thing he thought when he saw the picture was "oh God, sparky's going to be so mad I didn't turn my hips!" (Haha, which I was.)

So this weekend, my lil sis (yeah Grace!) took some pictures from our football practice and put them up on facebook. People were telling me the pictures look cool:

















However, the first thing I thought when I saw it was "oh man, Jooho's going to be so mad my elbow is too low!" (Haha, which he was.)

Some things are just universal...haha.

T-minus 20 days!

the break up

For the last couple years, whenever anyone (ie. older Koreans) would ask me about my life, the question of dating would inevitably come up. I give any Korean 10 minutes in a conversation before the, "so, do you have a boyfriend?" surfaces. 5 minutes if they're over 40.

So then I'd have to admit, no, I don't. And here's the kicker - their response is almost always "why not?"

Gee, if only it were that easy that I knew why not...haha. So over time, I've developed some decent responses. The easiest to get people off my back has been, well I'm at Taekwondo every night, so when would I have time to date?

And to my great surprise, several people have independently come to the conclusion "oh, so I guess Taekwondo is your boyfriend"

At first I thought it was funny. It sounds funny. But the more I thought about it...it was kind of true. I spent a good majority of my time thinking about it. I was at the dojang 7 days a week. It drove me crazy, but I loved it. It taught me so much about myself. I spent a lot of money on it. It made me cry. It made me smile. It made me grow.

But now, in this forced hiatus that may well be indefinite, I think about what it means to me, what it has been, and what it is becoming. As I evaluate whether this time in my life has passed, or whether it is just evolving, I can't help but feel like this is the part in the relationship when you have to do what's best, even if you may not want to. And sometimes that means breaking up.

And as I think of what such a "break-up" would look like - I wonder...can we just be friends? Can we really, after such an intense and emotional relationship, end things and truly stay "friends".

Maybe it's time to "see other people" - ie. my friends who I've neglected for so long. ie. other activities that my pique my interest. ie. to get some regular sleep. ie. a job that is actually fulfilling. I must admit, football has been my 'rebound' from TKD. I realized this the other day when I made my I-will-throw-consistently-and-practice-6-days-a-week schedule, that I was in withdrawal from having gone from training 15+ hrs/wk down to 3 hrs/wk. From captaining to strategizing, conditioning to scrutinizing skills (or my lack thereof) - it's filled the hole enough so that I can be perfectly happy.

But when football is over in early November - then what? Can TKD and I just be friends? Can we just be recreational, on a semi-committed basis, where if I show up to practice that's great, and if I don't, that's OK too? Where there are far less obligations, far less expectations on both sides?

Or is it too hard to be in the same place, remember what it once was, and know that it is no longer? Is it too hard to be reminded of what could have been, but never came into fruition? Are there still "what if's?" left on the table?

I think in any sort of "break", the time apart is key. It's the litmus test of whether you can live without it...or whether you can't. When the rubble and emotions of the "break up" fade, and you can look at it objectively. Or rather, more objectively. Sometimes that takes a lot of time. I'm not sure if I'm there yet.

But for what it's worth - it's been a great 7 years. I guess we were friends for 10 years prior, and it was my boyfriend for the last 7...but in that time, it's been one heck of a ride. I have a million regrets about this or that - but I guess I wouldn't trade it. It took me to 19 states and 10 countries. 4 broken fingers, 1 torn knee, 6 jammed toes, 2 shin bubbles, 3 cases of tendonitis, 1 concussion later...it will still contain some of the best memories of my life. The first time MIT won a tournament - and the first time MIT won the INCTL Cup. The first black belt test I ever gave, and how Juan told me he blacked out in the middle. The time Sr bet me that if I won US Open, he'd be nice to me for a month - and the look on his face when I did. The first time I ever wore USA on my butt. The opening ceremonies. My lucky pants. The nights when it was just me and Sabs. James. Adolfo. Scott. The days when it was just me, my jump rope, a bag, and the stereo. Sweating. Pushing. Facing fears and being stronger than them. Failing. Failing. Failing. Succeeding. Failing again. Teaching the kids, seeing them grow to love it, losing my voice yelling at them - and seeing them shine. Fighting the uphill battles. Football runs. Running men. Circle sparring. Hogu drills. Sparring till you cry and then sparring again. Always having to do more than everyone else. Having to do it better, faster, stronger, harder. Knowing that I'm better today than I was yesterday.

After all this. Is it time to let go? And if so - can we really just be friends?

sexy cow

So back in the day, there was a certain conversation which to this day cracks me up. I wasn't even actually present at said conversation, but when I heard it recounted - it was pretty funny. So I'm sure my retelling it here isn't completely accurate, but take it with a grain of salt.

I think this was between lakim and suprman, whose anonymity will be broken because I need to use his name for the story. So lakim was commenting that the Korean word for "sex" is "sung". At which point, J (whose name is jae sung) says "so does that make me sexy jae?"

So if that wasn't funny enough, I was having lunch with someone today, and telling this story about my wacky friends. It turns out his korean name is sung woo. So the reaction I got to my story was "so...does that make me a sexy cow?"

The Big Story

The Big Story - that's my staffworker!

FRI = ?

Small group is back in full swing...you know what that means...

return of the poetry!

*ahem*

A Tuesday morning limerick:

There once was a small group called FRI.E.N.D.S.
Uptown near the river, a block past West End
During the games,
Jacob faked names,
But he'll buy us all steak for amends.

For Small Group Wars, we will assert
Our group unity, so all be alert:
Meet Tuesday at nine
At 310 Riverside
To make up our cool small group shirts!


Looking forward to the year...

FRIday Equals Now:

Desperately Seeking
Deeply Satisfied
Discipling Servants

so you're saying there's a chance...

After much ongoing rumination these days, I was thinking about one of my favorite quotes:

"Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they've been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It is an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It is a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is nothing."

I think one of the primary hurdles that I had to clear in the last few years is pushing through the moment where you want to give up. I always wonder about the line between possible and impossible - and I would have to say that it's probably true that "I can't" is really just another way to say "I choose not to". I know I've said it. "I can't" meaning "my lungs feel like they're going to explode, I don't want to do another set". "I can't" meaning "I don't have the confidence to beat that person". "I can't" meaning "I don't want to get up at 6am to do cardio".

Typically "I can't" is looked down upon because it's an excuse for fears, laziness, or any other number of self-protective insecurities. However, I'm realizing more these days that "choosing not to" is not necessarily always a bad thing, depending on the reasons behind it. These days, I'm wondering the flip side: if there is value in saying "no", stepping down, or walking away.

One thing one of the coaches told us at one of the team practices in Thailand was that there is only one thing that always gets better with experience: timing. Timing is the ability to do the right thing at the right time. And I'd have to say, looking back on the last 6 years - it's true. My body may not be able to handle it, I may get mentally tired or burnt out, not have enough time or resources - but the one thing I can say is that I can see a whole lot more than I used to.

So perhaps that is the one thing that time and experience will give you - clarity and discernment. Maybe all the hopes and fears and dreams and disappointments are there so that you can assess and discern better what is "right" as you move along. So that in that moment when you have to make choices, you can "choose" or "choose not to" wisely.

I spent 6 years having "I can't" beaten out of me - and in the end, when I said "I can" - I couldn't. And it makes me think of all the times I said "I can't" and I could have. All the birthday dinners I missed for practice, the happy hours I missed to go teach, the events I missed to go to tournaments. It was all for a goal, and what I had to do - but looking back, I realize being able to say "I can" to something will cause you inevitably say "I can't" to something else. As much as we would love to believe we are supermen and superwomen - our capacities are finite. Trying to "have it all" has led me to the conclusion that you can have a lot. You can have enough. But you can't have it all.

But maybe that's OK.

Nothing is impossible - I still believe that. When you deem "I can't" to be unacceptable, you can do things beyond what is practical, prudent, or easy. That moment that calculation stops and sheer willpower takes over...it's led me to fight with a broken hand, a torn knee, a busted nose, a concussion ...if you want something badly enough, you really can do anything.

But in all things, there is a time to choose to say no. When it's better to step back, step away, perhaps even walk away. Perhaps there are seasons - and seasons change. Maybe there are seasons with people - perhaps you grow up, and perhaps you grow apart. As long as there's a chance, it's not impossible...but perhaps being "possible" isn't always enough of a reason.

Tim Keller said once in a sermon that wisdom is the ability to do the right thing at the right time. Sometimes that is shutting out all the doubts and odds and saying "yes". And sometimes it's turning another way and saying "no".

If only there was an easier way to know which was which...

get-to-know

I met up with the person I'm serving with next year.

I don't know why, but this amused me:

"So...I have to confess that I have a little bit of a messiah complex."

"Oh...(he laughs)...I have a HUGE messiah complex!"

Seems promising, I'm looking forward to a new year of ministry.

blast from the past

I was sorting through files, and came across some good memories. Having all this free time is making me far too sentimental...2003 was a good year.



















The first year we beat them all...













Hands down, I spent far more time on club recognition proposals, training the team, and stressing over strategy than on my thesis. What a great year. And just because Nathan knows I'll never let him forget this...













My parents are super cute (though why is it that they have to display school gear all the time?)





















'06 boys their freshman year at chapter camp...I miss Toah Nipi

time flies

Does anyone else think that Alex Trebek is starting to look an awful lot like Bob Barker? Dang...time flies when you're not paying attention...

lost & found

8"Or suppose a woman has ten silver coins and loses one. Does she not light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until she finds it? 9And when she finds it, she calls her friends and neighbors together and says, 'Rejoice with me; I have found my lost coin.' 10In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents." -Luke 15:8-10

* * * * *

보고싶어 돌아와줘 말 못했어
널 보는 따뜻한 그의 눈빛과

Don't you love it when you find a lost song? I am notorious for my lack of common knowledge of pop culture details. I can watch a movie, but I can't tell you actor/actress names. I can hear a song, but I can't tell you the title. Notorious, I tell you.

That being said, I think one of my favorite simple joys is when I find the artist/title of a song from days gone by that I really liked. Or (more commonly the case) - a song that someone once sang at karaoke or was on some unlabelled mix that I'll remember one catchy line from, but never be able to find. Sometimes, it happens after you've stopped actively searching for it - and it just sort of finds you.

My favorite song of the past year has been this kpop song on a workout mix I copied from someone. Here, we have an unlabelled mix, plus it's a remix, plus it's faster that whatever it's a cover of, so there's even less chance of catching the words - in another language. I've been relegated to calling it "Andy's Mix - Track 07" and copied it into multiple locations, since if I lose it, I'll have absolutely no way of finding it.

Tonight I decided to play some music that I never listen to. Meaning, I bought an album for one or two songs, and never paid attention to the other songs on it. As I was going through the never-before-played tracks, something sounded so familiar, I stopped what I was doing.

It turns out, it was the original of the remixed song.

I don't know how to describe that moment. It's like Gatorade after a hard summer workout. It's one instantaneous moment of satisfaction - which may fade soon after - but recurs every time you hear that song. I get that with certain songs which I've "found" over the years. Rick Astley's "Together Forever". TwoTwo's 일과 이분의 일. And now, Brown Eyes' 벌써 일년.

(And by way, if anyone has a copy of REF's 이별공식, you'll make my day).

conversations

Me: Hey, do you have any bhat left?

A: Yeah, I do, why?

Me: I’m hungry. Are you hungry?

A: I don’t know. Maybe. But food is so far away, we just walked a mile to get to the gate!

Me: Yeah, but we’re going to be on airplanes for hours with nasty airplane food. I know you’re going to be hungry, you eat every hour.

A: But then we have to walk allllll the way back through the gates. Are you really that hungry?

Me: Well, if you’re too tired it’s OK. It’s up to you.

Coach: Haha. Man, she just guilted you.

S: Yeah, and you’re REALLY bad at this.

Me: What? He’s my brother. I don’t need to be good at guilting, I know he’s going to be hungry anyways.

A: OK, OK, let’s go.

So we walk up the ramps and out of security.

A: Hey noona. Now that I think about it, I AM hungry.

I really enjoyed having a brother for a week, esp. one that's so much younger so he was easy to take care of. He was a good dongseng. Even if I had to do his laundry. Haha.

So we found this Korean place in the Thai airport. The kimchee was close enough to the real deal to be satisfying. Rex found us and laughed at us – and showed us his British Harry Potter that he’d just bought. (He and I both collect the British versions, which you can’t buy in the US – we were very excited to find that the airport bookstore had them). But I had no bhat left and my credit cards were with our bags at the gate so we resumed our ramen and bulgogi.

A: So you really want that book, huh?

Me: Yeah well, I can’t get it in the States. But it’s OK, I have the American version.

A: Do you want it? Yes or no?

Me: Eh, I don’t need it.

A: I’m going to ask you one more time. Do you want it? Yes or no?

He bought me the book for “being a good person”. Whatever that means. I think he felt sorry for me that I had to endure captainship of a selfish team. Oh goodness, it was like dying to myself every day.

I've always have a hard time accepting gifts or help from my juniors or dongsengs. It’s a pretty common theme to learn to let that sort of pride go in certain instances. But, for the lack of a friend/peer this trip, I had to learn to do just that. Not to depend, per se – leaning too heavily on a 19 year old could only lead to disastrous expectations – but just learning to take the help when it’s needed. (Like when I busted my foot and couldn’t walk. He yelled at me for taking his arm instead of putting my full weight on his shoulders. I was like, I don’t need to burden you with all my weight, just give me your arm for balance. In the end, I couldn’t put weight on my foot, so I was humbled anyways. I hate being humbled.)

Other funny conversations:

So ever since the last Universiade, I really wanted a Swiss shirt. They have these really nice H20 shirts and gear, and they never want to trade. Especially since we weren’t staying to closing ceremonies, I was trying my best to work some transactions whenever there was free time. I was able to finally get a Swiss girl to trade a workout shirt with me – but it turns out she gave me an x-small. What the heck was I supposed to do with an XS? I’ve never been XS anything in my life!

Anyways, so one night S and I were coming back to the dorms and saw a bag of Swiss stuff that came back from the dry cleaning service.

Me: Hey, look, you should just jack that bag of Swiss stuff.

S: You want me to? I’m pretty tricky, it’d be pretty easy.

Me: S! Uh, commandment #8?

S: What? I’m just stealing – you’re the one who’s coveting!

choices

In the past month, I was notified of another engagement, reminded of three upcoming bridal showers, went shopping and/or bought gifts off of registries for weddings, had a friend start seriously dating someone from match, heard of 2 new pregnancies, 3 babies being born, and waiting on 3 more babies in the next month or so.

Congrats to everyone - I would mention by name, but it'd be long than this whole entry. Hard to believe all this is happening to people who are my age, perhaps a little older, and sometimes even younger.

Sometimes I wonder - am I just standing still while everyone else is moving forwards with life? What happened to the simplicity of figuring out whether you'd get that problem set in on time, deciding what courses to take or what activities to pursue...when did it all accelerate?

And in the end, I'm left with some doubt and the fear of regret - did I make the right choices? Which is ironic, considering the basis of most of my choices have been to avoid regretting the things I didn't do.

But was it worth it? Is it still?

true friend

My buddy Chin (who recently bronzed at the Pan Am Games this weekend, congrats Chin!) and I had a discussion about friendship once. He tends to talk in analogies (I love analogies - very sad they took it off the SAT) and on this occasion he was half venting about recently being burned/disallusioned with a certain friend who had let him down.

"So let's say you're riding a bicycle and you crash and fall. What does a real friend do? Does he run up to you and immediately start criticizing your riding technique? Does he point out your mistakes, and how you should have done it better? No! His first reaction is to pick you up, take care of you, and make sure you're OK. That's how you know you have a true friend."

photo dump

I bought a camera off my friend, in my attempt to replace the one that was lost/stolen in argentina last year. i'm not sure if i really like it, maybe I'll actually shell out to get the one I want.















Why MIT people are awesome - no shame in putting on chemistry goggles to protect eyes from steam when grilling kalbi. Prove it like a theorem, baby!

















My little bro, the big cheese. Coincidentally, we ran into everyone we knew at the ballet, of all places. Including my best friend from college who I haven't seen in 2 years:

















"Wait, Gina, you have to open your eyes"

"I'm Asian - those ARE my eyes!"

random weekend happenings

Best weekend in a long while:

Training - Awesome joint workout with WS/CWB/CT/BT - 40 people, all good with a ridiculous number of national champions and varying team members to boot, at my school kicking hard. It was like Christmas and my birthday together. Greatest 2.5 hours of adrenaline I've had in a long time. A couple of my 8 year old girls came to watch, and during the water break (while I was dying and dripping) they banged on the glass as I walked by and gave me big grins and thumbs-up signs. So cute.

NYC Ballet - blessed by the generosity of a friend and former private student who is of high employment at the ballet, had prime seats for the closing weekend's performance of "Jewels". Not my favorite

Sue: "Scottie's the perfect build for a ballet dancer. The competition for boys isn't as stiff, so I bet they'd still take him now, at 14."

Scott: "Well, they did have me with those sparkly costumes"

Richard: "Oh really? For me it was the tight pants"

Maybe you had to be there, I'm not doing the sarcasm justice.

Good food - nothing like having a dongseng in town with the excuse to spoil someone (and self) by eating out beyond my normal 4 places on the UWS. Rosa Mexicano - slightly pricey, but I like it. And I'm very particular about Mexican food. Then I tried to introduce him to Pinkberry, though by the time we walked all the way down there, it had just closed. Dangit! So in the spirit of the asian yogurt flavor, we decided to go out for yogurt soju. After all these years, he still jokes about having to turn to the side while drinking with me. Or maybe it was bc we were in a krn place - surrounded by drunk kids who were mostly likely not 21. And I mean krn like we say azn. Go home and study, kids!

Bags - me : backpacks is like most girls : purses. I love North Face the way most girls love Coach. (Or whatever the expensive bags of the season are). I went there looking for a particular bag, and now I have 3 options and I can't decide.

Mangoes - Beard Papa's Mango Smooth Ice. So good.

Sick - No idea what it is. But it is. (OK this is not contributing to the 'best weekend' category).

small graces

Without going into gross detail or complain for no reason - it was a bad week.

I have severe difficulties with feeding the male ego when it is unnecessarily fragile and, for lack of more sophisticated terms - power tripping. I think there are just certain personality types in leadership that I just can't stand, and one is the insecure bruised ego that needs to exert dominance before all else.

The bitter irony is when you foresee problems, take measures to prevent them, warn against them - and then get chewed out publically for making suggestions that were apparently not in your place to make and have incompetant leadership direct the team the other way. Then to watch it unfold a few days later, fall apart, then be generally chewed out for not having thought to direct the project the "right" way (ie. the way you had suggested) - and then be the sole person at the office on a Saturday, correcting everyone else's mistakes.

And that's only the work-related strife. I also have beef with fair-weather friends, and more on beauracracy and forced brown-nosing. But those are topics for another time.

I came home from a late night in Bayside on Saturday, slightly recharged from the nasty week after an impromptu evening with a family out there, eating home cooked Korean food and watching Korean videos with my dongseng - when my doorman stopped me and gave me a bundled plastic bag. Had no idea what it was, all taped up - with how my week was going, it could've been a bomb. I just stacked the bills on top, and took it upstairs.

Upon opening the layers of plastic bags, I found a foil wrapped plate of home baked cookies wrapped in a pretty red bow, with a card on fancy paper attached. It was from one of my Taekwondo students who finally passed his black belt test, after a year of retrying the board breaks.

In the midst of all the chaos and disappointment, I was reminded of small graces. It's funny how when the world makes you feel so unappreciated and unloved, God will inject a little bit of love to remind you that your sacrifices are worth it. That for every 10 people who reject what you do for them, maybe 1 person will be affected for the better.















What a Kodak moment.















When he started taking private lessons with me, he was about 3 inches shorter than me. Crazy how fast these kids grow up...