the laid.back Buddhist has MOVED...back!

Wednesday, October 31


Stripping off my sweats, I’m in the girls’ locker room at the gym for yoga class. As I turn around to grab my shorts, I happen to glance over to my right.

Wow. She is way too thin.

Hipbones jutting out and with a concave belly, her legs are smaller in diameter than some guys’ arms. She’s sliding into a swim suit and I’m trying not to wince.

I wanted to cross over the wooden bench, to place gentle hands on her bony shoulders, and to say:

“Look, you are beautiful. Absolutely BEAUTIFUL. But you’ll be a thousand times better with more curves. Eat more, please.”

However, instead I resigned myself to inwardly cringing and stealing furtive, worried glances at her direction…

Because, you see, I never know what to do when I see a girl that thin, why should I assume that she has anorexia? In some cases, a girl just may have high metabolism (something much more commonly found in guys). Looking back on the moment, I think that perhaps I should’ve said some encouraging words of concern.

I understand the struggles with one's own body.

Last Thanksgiving break, I was in the locker room at a hot springs bath an hour from Taipei, Taiwan. In my bra/underwear and in the process of sliding into my jeans, I heard a middle-aged woman say to another beside her:

“Wah, she’s so fat!”
My fingers froze in mid-air while holding my belt.

Intensely still, I stared into my locker as I looped, in deliberate slow motion, the belt around my waist. As the only other person in the locker room and seeing out of the corner of my eye, the second woman’s glances in my direction, I knew precisely of whom they were talking about.


Little did they know that even though I may look “ABC” (slang for American-Born Chinese), I am quite fluent in Mandarin Chinese…and with good ears, to boot. Meeting my dad outside a few minutes later, I tried to relate the incident to him in a joke, to carelessly brush it off with a flippant laugh.

But the words got caught in my throat.

I had barely croaked out the word FAT when tears started streaming down my cheeks. I knew I wasn’t unhealthily obese and that I have a tall frame to help hide any extra pounds, but those words of a complete stranger behind my (and half-naked, at that!) back really, really stung.

They hurt the most because I saw some truth in them as well.

Last year's Thanksgiving Break, I was hovering around 148 lbs, and by “Asian standards”…that’s considered overweight.

And currently?

I’m at 135 lbs, which is 3 lbs shy of the goal I set for myself back in May of this year. Over the course of these past 6 months, I’ve shed those 10 lbs slowly, in a conscious effort to make sure it stays off.

So, I gradually add to my exercise regimen only activities I know I’ll be able to keep up for a lifetime. Plus, as a girl of HUGE appetite, I like to eat A LOT. I love food with an adoring fervor and will make savoring noises involuntarily.

Oooh, and did I mention I have a separate stomach for desserts as well?

Well, I do. ;)

Tis the only explanation for why I always have room for my favorite sweets!

And as much as I know how important balance and moderation is in a diet, it’s tough whenever I’m away from home to eat right because (1) there are so many convenient and unhealthy options and (2) my mom isn’t there to make sure I don’t stray too far.

But bit by bit, I’ve learned how to take care of my body on my own.

Body image is a ginormously sensitive subject and always will be. Just like how I'm never fully comfortable in front of the camera (though it has gotten better over the years).

I'm still learning how to love my body for all its imperfections.

To appreciate being comfortable in one's own skin.

To simply being utterly skintastic!

Photography: Tyn Cathedral by GeniuZ

(happy halloween!)

Tuesday, October 30

Forgive Me

This week is just about killing yours truly.

Don’t know if anyone noticed my brief absence, but I went home this past weekend. Boycotting my laptop, I also put all my work on pause for a much needed mini-vacation. More on how that went down later.

The result was me spending ALL of yesterday (Monday) holed up at my desk, running on caffeine fumes, playing catch-up, and quite possibly getting high off of my freshly henna-dyed strands of hair.

Insomniac panic had ensued, to say the least.

One of these days, I swear procrastination is going to be the death of me. It's a bad habit that seems to become more flamboyant as the years go by. However, I figure rationalize that there is wisdom in why stockbrokers take the weekend off in order to come back Monday morning with a fresh and sharper mind.

Plus, I'm feeling considerably lighter after all my yoga despite the protesting of my abs. On the other hand, my neck and shoulder blades are MUCH happier, as those are the hot spots where I tend to carry all my stress.

Anyhow, I've decided to post some low-resolution (read: built-in laptop camera) and spur-of-the-moment boredom (read: in between classes after finishing an exam) pictures of my crazy non-Asian-like hair (read: natural curls doing their thang)!

The angle's weird b/c my laptop is...well, on my lap. And, I'm on 4 hrs of sleep!

As I said, forgive me.

Gotta love those flattering concrete blocks...
Sitting on the floor and waiting for the classroom to open up.
My bangs are doing that whoosh! thing as per usual.
See my unruly curls?

2nd favorite hoodie of all time, gift from Kath and Vy our sophomore (?) year.
And, look at the new shades for a new beginning I was talking about!

You like? Nine West, $12 courtesy of Marshall's. Sweetness.

This picture just makes me laugh. Had to include it.
Translation: "Oh, crap...I'm late for class."

So, there you are. Me in color, once again.

Monday, October 29

Because Stubborn Is As Stubborn Does

Are mothers’ are always right?
Oh, you betcha.
Will I ever learn that they're always right?
Apparently not.

“You need to put in more blonde.”

I frantically...stubbornly shook my head no. Blonde is so NOT me.

Sure, I’ve gradually chosen lighter and lighter shades of red-brown, to the point where my last dye was called “Terracotta Blonde.” But there was no way in hell you’d see me applying straight-up blonde coloring, especially with the sort of name like “Persian Blonde” (!?) to my hair...

[she proceeded to dump half the container of aforementioned Persian blonde henna into the mixing bowl], voluntarily, that is.

“Aaagh! Mom!

I immediately dump more "Auburn Mahogany" henna into the bowl in a retaliating effort to salvage what I fearfully imagined to be some sort of blonde disaster just waiting to plague my hair.

After rinsing out the henna (3 hrs later), I saw my reflection peering back at me in the bathroom mirror give way to dawning realization.

“Oh, no.

The red tones darkened it completely.

Gone were the 7 months of gradually lightened shades of golden reddish-brown. She was so right, I definitely needed more of that blonde to bring the red out. As of right now, in non-sunlight it looks brown, which is a first for me (I actually don't mind such a color, but my roots barely picked up any color...which was the whole point).

So, the next morning, I lamented my trivial woes of having to re-dye to my dad.

To which he responded with, “No, I think it’s better darker."

I raise a skeptical eyebrow at those words, especially when accompanied with that goofy grin of his.

"It looks like some blonde dog hair when it’s too light.”

“Dad, that is NOT true!!!”

It has never looked as such. Really! He just relishes in getting us to exclaim in indignant half-mocked horror.

On a side note, can a person get high off of sniffing henna-dyed strands of hair?

It smelled damned good. Like, intoxicating good.

I wonder if I should be worried about that...

Thursday, October 25

Nice Guys vs. Heartbreakers

There's something I don't wanna understand
the only way a woman is gonna want a man
the only way you'll ever keep her in you hands
is breaking apart her heart
Can't you see the way she's crying
Well, that's what keeps her trying,
she knew that she could have you,
And he don't give her what she wants...”


I had added the new Good Charlotte album to my punk/rock/alternative playlist to see if any songs other than Dance Floor Anthem would grow on me. And so the other day late night in the wee hours of morning while I was cranking out a paper, these lyrics pierced through my working-mode.

Causing me to wonder, if it was possibly true for myself…

Intuitively, I immediately fired back with an empathetic hell no, who do you take me for crazy?!

(uhh, no need to actually answer that ;)

Having my heart so casually used. Feeling a fireball of pain hurled around only to be trapped in the back of my throat. When hurt takes a trigger-shot straight to the tips of my fingers, making them curl in cruel, anguished tingling...

What kind of person seeks such agony?

Oh, right. The Bleeding-Heart Masochist in me last year.

But it’s comforting to know that I can pick myself up. A relief to be able to say that I won’t settle for less than I deserve, knowing it’ll still hold true even in moments of utter hormonal irrationality.

Plus, the idea of long-term pining after a heartbreaker is not very appealing or desirable. In fact, it sounds downright tiring. The Unattainable Crush is one thing, but playing games with my honest emotions is quite the other. Disappointment wears a gal down and crying does horribly puffy things to my eyes for the next day.

And so, they like to say how nice guys always finish last.

Well, I agree they do if "nice" means boring pushovers. I like it when a guy can not only hold his own, but challenge me.

For instance, one of the HUGE soft spots (among other weaknesses) I have is for nerdy guys.

Er, perhaps not this kind of nerdy that Dan once wrote of per se.

But I find it charmingly alluring when a person is really passionate about something (obscure or not), knows what he’s talking about, and isn’t afraid to show it. I like it when he can make me laugh, encourage me to try something new, or persuade me to a new line of thinking.

Call me crazy, but I like it when he’s NOT (insert gasp) tearing my heart to pieces.

So you see, this sort of guy could be a “nice guy,” and he could break my heart.


Wednesday, October 24

Boys & Girls

“I just don’t see how it’s supposed to be a good thing for girls to be like boys and boys to be like girls.”

Excuse me, SERIOUSLY?!

My fingers lifted from the keyboard (I was commenting on a blog, either Dicey’s Dice Six or Holly’s Menstrual Poetry, I forget) and I squinted towards the front of the lecture hall to see what person had the idiotic gall to say such a thing.

She has similar (basic) demographics as me, being female and attending college (in fact, the same freakin' university at that)...

It makes me embarrassed for her sake.

Not that I’m trying to make excuses for this student, but perhaps age has something to do with her narrow-mindedness? This is an entry-level (elective) class on child development, so odds are that she’s a freshman.

Yes, damn it, I am quite aware that I'm making an assumption despite the previous post's warnings on doing exactly that. However, that has got to be the fifth time this semester the same girl opened her mouth and something insipid has come out.

Can you believe it? Last week, in response to a diversity case study as part of a guest lecture, I believe she said something to the effect that the gay man should’ve kept his personal lifestyle separate from his professional life...

Well, NOT if the man’s boss is clearly discriminating against homosexuals by saying (to a man he assumed was not gay but actually was, ironically) that he’s uncomfortable having a gay man work for him! It’s unfortunate that the boss would feel that way, but people cannot go around saying such things--behind closed doors or not--and expect to get away with it!

GLBT individuals have enough stigma to courageously face, not to mention for them it's also a continually "coming-out" process.

But I'm veering off on to a tangent into a side rant.

Anyhow. I was just about to raise my hand to indirectly counter-reprimand her comment (I know, it totally would’ve been very unfairly passive-aggressive of me!) when my professor did so. She responded beautifully, and most likely, with more professionalism than I would’ve (as a fellow student in the heat of the moment)... I thanked her for that after class.

The fact that this student is voicing all these opinions in a child development course, I can’t help but worry somewhat about the kinds of kids she’ll likely raise.

What, are you going to harshly criticize your toddler son just because he was indulging in a curiosity with a doll instead of a truck? At that age, children have not yet fully developed any concept of our socially constructed gender roles! A new toy is just...well, a new toy!

When certain people patronizingly claim that our society has progressed to complete equality...that acts of racism, sexism, homophobia, and yes even ageism (specifically towards our elderly), are no longer current issues, that individuals today are making issues out of non-issues...I have to wonder not just where their brain has gone, but where the hell their eyes are.

But I guess sometimes people will see and remember only what they chose to.

For me, it breaks my heart to hear my Jamaican friend share a story that some girl last year refused to work on a project with her simply because she was uncomfortable with the color of her skin. Yes, in THIS day and age. Or that people express wonder at my good friend being President of the Asian American Student Union this year because he’s also openly gay (to friends, not yet to family). Or when I go downtown with the girls and some drunk guy thinks he’s successfully hitting on me by saying that I “look real good for an Asian.”

Yeah, and you look like just another somewhat good-looking schmuck who’s acting like a twat. Crash and burn, you’ve just screwed up the First Rule of Courtship.

With that said, I'm ending this on a freakin' excited note because my friend Tony is coming down for the Boston College game on Thursday!

This means I can finally have tiramisu!!!

(I'll explain why at another time, in another post)

Tuesday, October 23

When The End Marks The Beginning

Never say never.

When human unpredictability can change everything in an instant, using words of such inflexibility can set the stage for inevitable disappointment. In many ways, I fear it. I think to myself, hey there may only be one path I walk, but it’s my own and who’s to say where it’ll lead?

I like my options. I like knowing I have ‘em.

I asked myself why I always hesitated when generalizing something as absolute, especially when I struggle with a decision. I’m often unable to use finalistic words without feeling the urge to tag it in quotes. It’s the same reason why I left the term “best friends” in the elementary school room. I have close friends and very good friends, but I only have one “best” friend, my kid sis.

Whoops! There I go again, tagging things in quotations. Creature of habit.

I asked this question not really wanting to hear the answer. I asked hoping that was enough to satisfy (but whom? my own self?)…except acknowledgement doesn’t even come close to an honest answer.

And, surely, we deserve all the honesty we can get in a world often obscured with delusional illusions.

I once wrote, “Ultimatums are pointless—I see them as superficial and overtly ambitious in attempting to convert all the complex dynamics between two people into 'option one, option two' kind of thing.”

While I still strongly believe in those words, I also know of the gratifying pleasure in stripping complexities down to bold statements.

So, I ask myself...what changed?

Ironically, since I realized my hesitation in using words with implications of complete finality, I’ve gradually become MORE comfortable with it.

Perhaps it’s a driving need to prove that I do know what I want, why I think this way, how I make decisions and to define with clearer insight…who I am.


Here’s the latest batch:

Always cover your bases. Always double-check.

This got me a rare compliment of approval from one of my bosses.

Never be afraid to ask questions.

This saved my ass at Judicial last week.

Never assume.

Damn all you shady attorneys!

Seriously, Not

As much as I lament being a girl certain days...

I think I'd always choose to be re-born female.

(just a tad biased here)

If only for appreciating how it feels to be back to "normal" after an excruciating past couple of days. I used to half-boast how I never suffered the usual symptoms. HA! I was hit with a pounding migraine, overall bloated-ness, and if the two previous posts were any indication, a case of sentimental woes.

(thanks for bearing with that)

I ought to heed the lesson here and remember to stop announcing how I've never had a hangover before karma decides to teach me a lesson.

(believe me... the irony of saying as such on a public blog is not lost upon me)

I swear it's the quarter-Mongolian blood in me or something. I remember everything, I've never thrown-up, and I don't get the Asian red either. The last part surprises most people because (courtesy of my mom) I always have a slight pink flush to my cheeks and when I'm laughing real hard, it flushes a deeper shade...accompanied by loud, head-thrown back sort of laughter and trademark weak knees.

Some claim it's because I just didn't drink enough.

Ahh, ha! And, of course, I was curiously arrogant enough to test my limits.

Long story short?

I'm simply a freak of nature masquerading as an Asian. Just a strong buzz that peaks faster and plateaus out for a longer time period.

(but I digress...)

Because if you can believe it, I meant this to be a post on Green Tea Bubble Tea...

Photography by Vy's LGvx8500 (chocolate) phone

Go ahead!

Exclaim in utmost horror and with righteous indignation that the above photo is NOT of Bubble Tea.

And yet...sadly, it is.

"What IS this!?" Vy fervently whispers to me in undertones.

"Oh, no." I'm barely containing laughter at this point, "I think I know what it is."

Some poor, deprived and utterly clueless newb at Deet's blended the tapioca pearls with the ice. When he handed it to us, we accepted it in shock. Hell, we even managed to walk a few paces towards a booth to further ponder our mutilated bubbles...

We got new Bubble Teas, of course.

(after much hysterical giggling, MUCH)

But I should confess...we waited to specifically ask the Asian girl to make it.

I know!

We're incorrigibly picky upstarts.

Sunday, October 21


If you're feeling happy, don't read this. Do yourself a favor and wait for tomorrow's.

I try not to post when I'm feeling emotionally hyper-sensitive (which happens roughly once a, yeah). However then I realized that was defeating the whole purpose of having a personal blog.

So, I figured that if you're gonna read about all the absurdities in my life...well, be warned, you'll read about my inner demons as well!

Thanks to Jon's recent post for reminding me of all the courage and trust in honesty.

Photography: Kyoto Bamboo by Steven Miller

Can’t get you out of my head, I can’t.

It drives me nuts sometimes.

You know. I’m trying, really trying hard here. But when I suddenly realize I’ve been successful, much more successful than thought possible… I’m seized with these moments of wholly irrational fear.

I don’t want you gone.

What I wanted was something that was never really there at all.

It’s always a secret. I always felt like a goddamn secret, like hush-hush this is dangerous ground to be treading on. Let’s pretend we’re not seeing what we see.

Oh, let’s.

Let’s safely act generic because that feels so special, right.

Right, it takes some kind of special to read through these mixed signs. Just smoke signals for the sentimental sweetheart, I guess. I’m alone in this, as I’ve always been. While my heart is an open book for you to read whenever you pleased. You wrote once, the day you surprised me with flowers, that I seem to easily step over whatever barriers you’ve put up. I didn’t even know there were barriers to overcome then. Now though, I can clearly see the new ones placed between us…

I see them. It frustrates me to see those words of yours, but I’m letting it go. Letting them stand there. And not feel disappointed yet again, not realizing that I had again involuntarily expected more. I’m not pushing forward for you anymore.

I end my seduction in this.

So, stop haunting me in my dreams...

Sometimes, the darkness of night still reminds me of you, but believe me, I’m working on changing that. It takes some getting used to. Time to shake off that feeling, a shadow of your warmth.

I got new sunglasses yesterday. So I can throw my favorite old ones, the ones you picked out…away.

They finally broke.

And I was set free to choose new ones.

Friday, October 19

On Regretting Not

Photography: Broken by FluidG4

In less than a week, my blog will have reached 7 months.

That’s 7 months since I finally realized, to the FULL extent, just how bad my heart was going to ache starting in May.

Even then, suffering that broken heart was worse than I imagined.

Crushes come and go like summer rain. But when I recognize that I’ve started to really like someone, it comes to the point where either I tell the guy...or I’ll burst. It’s hellishly nerve-racking and I’ve only done it twice, once in high school and once last year. Both led to experiences I don’t regret and memories I cherish.

Last Fall, when I realized that I had unexpectedly fallen for a boy, I knew (1) nothing could’ve stopped me from liking him the more I got to know him and (2) we were going to end…even before we began, even while I was falling in over my head.

You see, it’s always easier for me to confess or admit to my feelings than to try to hold back otherwise I’m left feeling awkwardly uncomfortable. Apparently that’s what happens when you wear your heart on your sleeve.

And I don’t know of any other heart.

All too often “what if’s” lead to means I saw and knew yet didn’t act.

Regret is for when you don’t learn your lesson properly the first time around. It’s for repeating mistakes. See, if you make a mistake and gain something from that experience…then, well, there is nothing for you to regret, is there?

And I refuse to regret the choices I make.

Knowing that I wouldn’t have it any other way gives me confidence to make mistakes, to hit or miss on my own terms.

That’s why taking time to really think before taking any action (be it minor or major) is so valuable to me. It’s why I make sure I’ve more or less formed my own opinion before asking for advice. This does not, by any means at all, make me intolerant of new change or unable consider other possibilities. It simply means that I’ll be able to better differentiate between my Intuition and my Rationale.

So this marks my 118th post, and I don’t regret a single word I’ve published here.

My archives are witness to many lessons learned the hard way.

3 Brief Confessions (for once!)

Photography: The Dock & Parker's Pier by Derek Prospero

Courtesy of a meme from Dan.

He titled his 3 Things You Haven't Let Go.

Although, for me? It's more like 3 Things I Won't Let Go...


Simply put, I can't stop. I refuse to.

The first time I dyed my hair it was this dark reddish-brown the year before I entered college. Looking back, it benchmarked another new coming-of-age.

Which now gets translated into the "new quarter-life crises."

Either way, ever since then I’ve been dyeing my hair in varying degrees of reddish-brown roughly 2-3 times a year. I try not to dye it too too often so it's ironically fortunate that my hair absolutely RELISHES in growing extremely slow. I also tend to stick to the reds, but for awhile I was really diggin' the slight dark purplish hue called Iridescent Chestnut (though it totally freaked me out the very first time I applied it).

And once on a whim my sophomore year of college, I dyed it blue-black.

Most of the time I used Naturtint (with 3 exceptions where I went mainstream with Revlon or Herbal Essence). However, recently my mom and I switched over to using henna because even though Narturtint doesn’t have ammonia or any of the harsher chemicals, it still contains carcinogens like p-phenlydiamine.

Which builds up when a gal can't seem to quit dyeing her hair yet still hopes to live a relatively long and healthy life!

But I’ll end my babbling here as this is not supposed to be (yet another post!) on my hair.


I love wearing black hoodies.

Photography by Vy (sometime between 2005-2006)

But my only one is gone!!!

Actually, it’s been gone for 2 years and counting.

I miss it, achingly.

It's from the year I was vice-prez of CAS. The design, created by one of my good friends and his genius artistic muse, is of a phoenix. Hm, and that's interesting...I didn't realize how much curlier my hair has gotten since then! Like now, I've actual tresses kind of curly. I shall endeavor to find/take a more recent picture of me with non-straightened hair...


A prime example is when The Self-Proclaimed Monosyllabic Trio restlessly decides we ought to do something. This often usually always leads to an evening of Serial Impulses. Below is one of the "normal" pictures of me, posing by the gorgeous tree we became fixated upon on one such Serial Impulse occasion last Spring.

A tree we proceeded to climb--skirts, heels and all.

Never mind the curious stares of passers-by, of course...

Photography by either Vy or Kath, I forget...(3/23/2007)

Oh! And Keeyit asked for a photo of my younger sister.

So on a completely-unrelated-to-the-meme side note, here's one from when she was at Northwestern University (Evanston, IL) this past summer for nerd camp. And I've no qualms in calling it as such because, well ah see, I went to it myself as a, young'un, too!

And, LOOK! She has the thick-Asian-hair gene that apparently decided to skip yours truly.

Photography by what I assume to be one of Keek's CTD camp friends.

What a goof!

The little upstart is demonstrating what I've dubbed "The Turtle Kiss."

And coincidentally, she's wearing the same sweater as me in The Tree picture above. Sadly, a sweater I probably won't ever see again now that she's taken such a liking to it...

Well, that's my Chosen Three--

Now on to the fun part! I'm curious to read 3 things that:

and Chessnoid

...haven't/can't/won't let go of.

Pictures appreciated. ;)

Wednesday, October 17

The Personal Cheerleader

Photography by DiHa1977

She is beautiful. Heartbreakingly beautiful.

In all the ways that makes my eyes smile with tears and my heart swell with pride. My love sings with delighted abandon, for her.

I know this. I’ve always known it.

Yet it still takes my breath away, every single time. It grabs me by surprise, and I’m left reeling in wonderment…

Where does all the time go?

One moment she’s mulishly giving my hair once last vicious yank, biting my fingers to purple blisters, and leaving entire imprints of her upper teeth on my arm. In the next she doesn’t stop following me around, buggering the living daylights out of me while redefining the meaning of an infernal chatterbox.

And now she’s old enough to aptly deliver a reprimand well-deserved.

She is a thrill. Surprising, daunting, and thoroughly inspiring.

I was stunned the day I realized that she looked up to me.

That someone thinks the world ten thousand times over of me blew my mind...and humbled my heart. So ever since that timely epiphany, I continually strive to reaffirm that I am worthy of such unconditional adoration.

For her sake, as well as my own.

And to show her that I’m not perfect. That I make mistakes and will, in all likelihood, continue to do so...

We need to make those mistakes for it’s how we learn. To live.

She pushes me to see my own actions through her eyes. She pushes me to be better and to achieve more.

My personal cheerleader. My best friend.

She is my sister.

Monday, October 15

In Action, We Take


What goes around, goes around, goes around
Comes all the way back around…

Today is (still!) Blog Action Day. The topic is environment. And I’m a big music junkie.

As you will see, those three things are somehow related.

For starters, the music should keep you company as I’ve got quite a lot to say…


You're gonna fly away
Glad you're goin my way
I love it when we're cruisin' together
Music is played for love
Cruisin' is made for love…

…and love is shared to be spread.

When we love this world we live in, we’re also loving ourselves more.

In fact, we end up loving each other better.

And who doesn’t love that?

Yet we’re only human to boot and still manage to take a lot of things for granted.

Technology was here before we were born (unless you’re older than dirt ;) and it only continues to get better. We could persist in using today’s technology to feed our excesses or we could support the development of more efficient technology to moderate our energy waste.

The United States is the #1 consumer of practically everything, from drugs to oil. And when a country is only 231 (or 218 yrs-old, depending on when you want to start counting), we not only have a lot of land space to take for granted but way more resources than older countries to deplete as well.

It simply isn’t enough to help the environment when you only support alternative energy sources, such as coal, natural gas, nuclear, or renewable energies (85% of which comes from wind).

It won’t change our bad environmental habits either.

There’s no such thing as a quick fix.

And if there were, you can bet millions upon millions that there WILL be consequences for taking shortcuts.

So while going green is smart, it does take time as well. It takes time to develop more energy efficient cars, homes, buildings, and…people.

Therefore, as much as we all appreciate the technological advances in our lives, we shouldn’t forget the basics.

Ride a bicycle, or even use your own two feet more often!

Try it. They say walkers have better hearts anyhow.


Calling all cars we've got another victim
'Cause my love has become an affliction
I'm sorry but I think I failed to mention…

…to mention that, um, my family drives not one but two SUVs.

If Life were a Greek tragedy, it seems this would be our tragic flaw.

However, until we switch our 1999 Toyota 4runner and 2002 Toyota Sequoia for a hybrid or smaller car (my parents dislike buying new cars too often), having these gas-guzzlers actually reminds us to drive less and more economically.

For example, my parents would rather go to the pool at 5:30 AM to beat rush hour traffic. Afterwards, my dad goes off to work (taking the Metro) while my mom gets all her errands done in one trip before heading home by 9 AM. It’s also a habit for my family to plan the best route for what needs to get done by thinking more efficiently. You see, a typical Sunday at my house is as follows: sleep-in, fruit breakfast, lunch, 2 hrs at the local library, 3 hrs at the health club, quick dinner and groceries at Whole Foods.

Ah, the exciting life we lead.

Anyhow. Sure our cars have the potential to waste more oil but that’s just one thing to be aware of. Being pro-environment or leading a more energy-efficient life is not based on simply ONE thing.

It’s a collective effort. And a continuous action.

We don’t use plastic trash bags but instead re-use the brown paper bags from Whole Foods. We make our own compost for my mom’s Impromptu Garden. We converted from 5-gallon plastic bottled water to having glass bottled water sent to our house…and then, a couple of years ago we stopped that completely and just installed a filter in our sink and boiled the water to drink.

And to be honest here, we actually stopped drinking from plastic bottled water primarily for health reasons not for the environment.

Either way it supports the fact that going green should affect every aspect of your life.

Because green is good…for our own sake.


Didn't think I'd turn around, and say...

I’m sorry. I forgot. I don’t have enough time. I didn’t realize.

Making an excuse is the easy way out. We do it all the time because taking the blame acknowledges our guilt.

And we are all guilty of waste, at one time or another.

“You did NOT just do that.”

“…what?” I look up from the trashcan.

“Take that plastic bottle out.” He orders me, “You’re recycling it.”

I stare at my friend in a mixture of sheepish incredulousness.

“It’s already in,” I half-plead in hushed undertones, “I’ll remember next time. Promise.”

“No!” He crosses his arms and I think we’re starting attract some curious stares, “You’re doing this now.”

Are all my friends this stubborn? Hell yeah, you betcha.

So what else do I do but reach into trash can, nonchalantly pull out the soda caffeine-fix that got me through a boring 90-minute class lecture, and properly dispose of it.

I’m sorry. I forgot. I don’t have enough time. I didn’t realize.

I won’t let it happen a second time.


Now what do I do
can I change my mind
did I think things through…

Why is a mother’s love so beautiful?

It’s pure, unconditionally giving, and devoted.

We often call it Mother Earth, but have we been good children? Or have we been neglectful, self-absorbed, and spoiled?

If things happen for a reason, then every action we take (or don’t take for that matter) can mean something.

At the very least, it’s a reflection of us.

And we should appreciate this one life we lead on one beautiful earth.


We'll make the same mistakes
I'll take the fall for you
I hope you need this now
Cause I know I still do…

Together, we take time aside to raise awareness, to encourage discussion and action, and to celebrate our environment.

For me, it’s also a reminder. One day for every day to come.

And it's similar to how marriage is not only about the Big Wedding Day.*

Wedding vows serve as a reminder that you’re committing to this love for a lifetime (and as life expectancy continues to rise, that’s a pretty darn long time!!!). Likewise, being kind to our environment (and helping others to do the same) is not a one-day thing.

Blog Action Day may only be 1 out of 365 days but let us continue this awareness every single day.

Up until the day we die.


So what does Dance Floor Anthem have to do with the environment and Blog Action Day?

I’ve no idea.

It’s just the new favorite song I love to blast while dancing by myself in my room.

Because yes I like to do that.

* I tell you, I manage to relate any topic back to love and relationships. I’m quite the incorrigible cliché, huh?

Friday, October 12

Gender Roles Be Damned

I've always loved killing (free or not is entirely beside the point) time with personality quizzes.

It's an addiction and a fact.

So you know, I figured because Dan, Meleah, and Ann have chosen blog quizzes to highlight, it was My Turn to spotlight one...

You Are 28% Girly

You are a pretty hardcore tomboy, and a very free spirit.
Gender roles be dammed, you like to do things your way.

Whoa, whoa...that's higher percentage than I expected, suh-weet.

But I am really annoyed with the last line,"Gender roles be damned, you like to do things your way." For it implies that having your own opinion or taking matters into your own hands are exclusively male characteristics.

That's sooooo 50 yrs ago!

It's heartening to see how certain traditional masculine traits have progressed to be attractive feminine traits as well. Hell yeah, I intend to be self-sufficient, financially independent, competitive (and yes, smack talk should be everyone's second nature), individualistic, and daring to defend my own beliefs.

I wouldn't want a man who expected any less OF me.

But if gender roles are dictated by societal expectations...well, Blogthings is damning the wrong perceptions. A more modern consideration would be to ask, how many typically feminine traits are thought to be attractive in a guy?

See, if it's considered a compliment for "a girl to be one of the guys," then why is it an insult for "a guy to be one of the girls"?

I personally appreciate that there are guys like Tyler in this world who can remain completely unfazed when 4 girls in a sappy-tearful-Becoming Jane-induced state come a'knocking, seeking the comfort of his big bear hugs but particularly the use of his fondue pot to dip things in chocolate with...

Yes, the guy owns a fondue pot AND has roommates who stock chai-green tea in their cupboard.

But back to the discussion of double standards.

If a person has an equal mix of male and female characteristics, he/she is considered androgynous...and is that so taboo?

I think not.

I believe it's a beneficial characteristic to encourage, to ourselves. To me, having an androgynous mind suggests a more open mind. It doesn't change a person's sex or sexual orientation. It only serves to expand the repertoire of how a person can think or behave.

So with all the unpredictability of Life, how can that be undesirable?

Adaptability is key to being laidback, Buddhist or not. And, breaking rules is such a satisfying way to live.

...because knowing you can surpass imposed limits is something like pure bliss.

Gender roles be damned, indeed.

Wednesday, October 10


You know how some things are really good for you but they get pushed to the side because a little something like...oh, I don't know, LIFE grabs a hold of you?

For example, there's me forgoing the morning green tea fix in order to sleep in a wee bit longer. Or, instead of getting up to take a shower, I decide it MUST be a hat day and promptly proceed to hit snooze 3x.


So I guess it's not really a Life issue per se and simply me being a lazy bum.

Ah well. On Monday (the 8th) marked the conclusion of my university's FALL BREAK aka Columbus Day Weekend so lots of sleeping-in occurred, and, almost.

The original plan was for me to visit home to pig out on my mom's cooking, play some pick-up basketball with dad, take back some clothes my little sister snuck from me, self-cut/henna-dye my hair, etc.

Only that didn't exactly happen.

It's very reminiscent, especially of last year when my focus was completely swallowed up by work/studies and I only came home for the breaks (which would then be cut short due to RA duties). Therefore, the reality was me calling home apologizing that I had a lot to do, none of which would probably get done if I went home for the weekend...

"Okay, it's what you want to do," My mom had replied over the phone, but before I can say thanks she nonchalantly added, "Just don't forget that you need to come home at least once before Thanksgiving break to pick up your plane ticket."

"....ah?"So that's why she insisted on buying it!

She's an expert at getting me to do what's good for me.

And yes...believe me, I am quite aware that flying home when home is only a 4-hour drive away is rather excessive.

But last Thanksgiving Break I had to endure 10 hrs of the Greyhound bus to DC, a 14-hour flight to Tokyo, another 2 hrs to Taiwan....only to repeat the experience again 6 days later. The only difference on the way back was that I was struggling with food poisoning, jet lag, and a 6-hr bus ride.

Ah, good times.

So as you can well imagine, when my mom told me the yearly trip to Taiwan/Japan was planned for Thanksgiving Break again, I was more than just a tad anxious. I was downright fearful.

Which is why, as much as I support public transportation, I'm extremely grateful that I can take a 1-hr flight instead of the Greyhound again.

And, I'm making the trip back this weekend or next...or next-next. I was leaning towards this weekend, but that was before I realized that something is going on this Saturday night that I don't think I want to miss, hah...

Either way, this means I must immediately start detoxing myself so that I can pass my Mom's Ritual Health Inspection:



Down to 135 lbs and has plateaued, check.


Nope, been Dr. Hauschka-ing the face and neck every day (habit my mom helped us young'uns develop, for me it's been since high school) and the unscented version of this sunblock on the arms (and legs, if I'm wearing shorts, capris or a skirt), check.


The ends were getting dry but has since been fixed with this, check.


Been remembering to floss, check.

Any scrapes on my shins?

Nope! She checks for this because when friend took me mountain-biking on one of the nearby trails last spring, I got pretty beat-up (this includes falling in the stream) but holy crap! it was worth feeling so bad-ass (excluding my whimpers when it stung like hell in the shower)...cha-cha-eck!



Irregular, very.


Good, but not as rosy as when I'm recuperating at home. I need to cut back on sweets, drink more water, and re-stock on the daily face lotion I ran out of yesterday.


Unfortunately, it seems I can't do hot/cold showers once the weather becomes colder, but they're doing just fine due to my Apricrot Scrubble.


So-so, I've been getting lazy about moisturizing my legs after the shower. However, now that the bees, gnats, flies are dying down, I can finally begin using my rose lotion.


Fruit intake?

Besides the daily banana, it's definitely been lacking. Especially in comparison to how much my family consumes, we don't call my mom "Fruit Queen" for kicks!


Sadly, only once a week nowadays. If even.

Less meat, and if so, organic?

No, but I have been cutting back on the non-organic, uh, well if you ignore the fact that I had 15 Bdubbs chicken wings Tuesday night...

I think that covers it.

But before OPERATION DETOXIFICATION FOR MOM'S STANDARDS can be initiated, perhaps I should finish devouring my Au Bon Pain chocolate croissant. I mean, it's bad to be wasteful, yes? ;)

Oooh, and that double-chocolate muffin is looking pretty good right about now, too...

No, no, no!







Monday, October 8

Power of One


October 15, a week from today, is Blog Action Day, and the theme this year is environment.

If you have a blog and want to join in, all you have to do is use that day to post something related to the environment, in whatever way, shape, or form you prefer. You can pick an environmental issue that has meaning for you and let us know why it's important.

Organize a beach or neighborhood cleanup and tell us about it. If you're into fiction writing, give us a story with an environmental theme. Have a podcast, videoblog, or photoblog? Join the fun! The idea here is to have a mass effect on public awareness by sharing as many ideas in as many ways as possible.

If you're game for participating, go register your blog with the 7,000+ other blogs (with 5 million readers!) that are already signed up. Also, see the Blog Action Day blog for more on how bloggers can change the world.

Graham (of Blogger team)

This makes me very happy.

In fact, I'm so happy that the Topic is on Environment that I couldn't wait and had to publish this new post now, even though I usually try to finish replying to the comments of previous posts first.

Anyhow, I hope you rebellious non-conformists all hop! on the bandwagon for this one. ;)

But in order to Counteract the "Open" Tagging Conspiracy (courtesy of Dan and Pete), it's only deviously correct that I turn this into a massive viral tag...




In an effort to maximize promotion (only 1 week til the 15th!), I tried to pull from various niches and well as certain people I haven't given link love to in awhile...I'll be looking for a post from you all, deal?!

Chuck; Rolando; Kiasu-ness!; Lewis; Revellian; Daniel; YC; Chris C; Jon; Dailytri-ness!; Terence; Raqqash; Spiff-ness!; Brown Baron; Mike; 38Kia; Chessnoid; Snarky-ness!; Speedcat Hollydale; Cheynne C; LOBO; Delmer-ness!; Rich

Holly; Erina; Cooper; Dana; Sabrina; Brandy-ness!; Meleah; Stealth-ness!; Thinker; Terri; Sheila; Brookem; NOLA; Debo; Polli; Nessa-ness!; Miki; Morgan; Kyla; ChrissyJo; Thira

Whether you're tagged or not, drop me a line if you plan on particpating in Blog Action Day so I can check out your Environment article on Monday, the 15th!

*So, listing name after name was FUN, but damn it took close to forever to individually link...I mean, who knew being deviously viral was so much HARD WORK?! ;)

Sunday, October 7

Accidental Ridiculousness

What’s in a name?

My parents have a wicked sense of humor. Often corny, yes.

But wicked nonetheless.

Now, some might think I meant “wicked” as in slang for “way cool” or “beyond hilarious.”

Ohh ho, nah-uh, I do mean wicked.

I swear they are always on the look-out for the purposeful enjoyment of any accidental ridiculousness. And a particularly favorite subject is their offspring. I do not kid when I say this has been the case from the moment I was born, as can be evidenced from the story of how my first name came about.

Or, I should say, how it almost didn’t come about.

My Chinese name was decided by my paternal grandfather and apparently that’s the only name that really mattered. So, my dad relishes in explaining how if it weren’t for my dear granny Anne (an elderly woman who was once a neighbor to us), they were going to take the nurse’s suggestion to English-name me…


Mm, yeah. Whew! Thank you, granny Anne. I owe you a big one!

However, like most things, the story doesn’t end there.

I’m not very close to either of my own grandmothers due to circumstance (one has been in a coma for the past 10 years) and temperament (the other, whom I respect very much, favors the males in the family: son, son-in-laws, and grandsons).

But granny Anne is so sweet.

She is the reason why I listed that I want be a grandmother before I die in my 3’s meme…because, well, I never really had one myself. And she brilliantly suggested that they take the combination of my parents’ names, John and Annie.

To create Johann.

Pronounced as “JO-han,” but if you’re like many of my past teachers who were surprised when a little Chinese girl instead of a little German boy raised her hand for role call…you probably thought “YO-han," like in Johann Sebastian Bach.

Then, why (when I've come to love how different my first name is) do I still use "Joanne"?

Well, it goes back to old habits dying hard.

When I discovered the existence of nicknames in elementary school, I nicknamed myself “Joanne” in an effort to make my name closer to the Granny Anne I admired so very much. A nickname which has obviously stayed with me throughout the years.

So that now “Joanne” is who I am just as much “Johann” came to be as I matured.

Does make me wonder though, as it’s often touted that it's not the shirt who makes the person but rather the person who makes the shirt instead: did I grow into my name or did my name develop who I am today?

I mean, I honestly can't imagine myself answering to the name of "Ruby." However I'm confident that if fate had made that my first name instead, I'd somehow make it a part of my identity. Though I also wonder if I'd still be the same sort of person today as a Chinese girl named Ruby instead of Johann.

Who knows, maybe a more feminine name might've made me less of tomboy growing up?

(Keep in mind that I ask this while highly doubting it myself)

You see, my mom has a very pretty Chinese name, "Gold Cloud," and compared to her 4 older sisters who all have masculine names, she was definitely the most carefree and tomboyish child of them all. In fact, my grandmother sent her to an all-girls Catholic boarding school for high school with the sole purpose of reining in her wayward tendencies!

Props to her for surviving that as I can't imagine more than 1 year in such an environmentmy sister and I did a brief stint at an all-girls school Hathaway Brown the year we lived in Ohio... And yeeeah, I'm pretty damn sure I broke every single rule in regards to the HB school uniforms I disliked wearing so very much.

Anyhow, it's interesting that in Asian cultures—and maybe this is true across the board—having a…uniquely different or a baser name is thought to be advantageous to the destiny of the person. Therefore, my Chinese name (besides being only 2 characters compared to the usually favored 3 characters and surprise-surprise! masculine as well) also sounds exactly like another common Chinese word.

Often, people who know Chinese do a double-take and exclaim, “Really! You mean like…”

Yes, you heard right. That is my name.

And now you're probably wondering what the story behind THAT name is. Well, you'll just have to keep wondering, my friends.

Because I tell ya, this wickedness is hereditary! ;)

Wednesday, October 3

What My Mother Taught Me About Sex

Let's see...

  1. You can become pregnant and get STDs
  2. You are not allowed to have it until you are married
  3. The handsome Dr. Oz is wrong: sex 200 times a year (3-4x a week) is too much and downright unhealthy

Yeeeah, that pretty much sums it up.

Which is why I've slowly been educating my kid sis (16 yrs-old this December) on this subject because I'm a firm believer in the idiocy of abstinence-only sex education.

I tell her how to use a condom, how girls (and even guys, too) can have multiple orgasms, how 85% of men will lie about their sexual history in order to get into your pants, how sometimes the symptoms of an STD will NOT appear on men (but will on women), how to avoid camel toe, how beautiful our female sexuality is, how to defend against rape and so on.

I'm waiting until she's older with a developmentally more mature mindset (most likely, sometime during her own college years) before we talk specifics, lols, about the pleasures and the spiritual aspect of sex.

Until then, Mom's "no sex until you are married" stands golden.

However, my mom taught us something else...something I wouldn't have been able to learn from textbooks, from researching the internet, from all the thousands of studies done on this topic.

She taught me how to love.

...while giving me the twin gifts of self-confidence and curiosity.

Armed with those two things, I discovered what it means to be lustful, sexual, and sensual...for myself. You see, my parents never talked about sex to me. It's a traditional Asian thing for them. Instead, they showed me what it means (and takes) to be in an intimate relationship just by being themselves.

My basis for friendships comes from my mom and it adds to my ideas of relationships, which comes from my parents.

Because of them, I believe an idealistic relationship is not only unrealistic but also very unfulfilling. It isn't possible to have an ideal relationship where everything’s smooth sailing and constantly hunky-dory; however, that doesn’t imply that in a real relationship, two people shouldn’t strive for the ideal by honestly working together through the bumps. Just as most everybody will agree that while perfection is unattainable (not to mention highly subjective), it still remains necessary and healthy for every person to strive to improve. Towards their own ideal of perfection.

So, then...what do I feel is "ideal" for a real relationship?

Well, besides having the 3 components (friendship love, romantic love, and physical love), for a relationship to be truly rewarding for me, I need to feel that I can be vulnerable and it's okay. It's okay because such openness gives me strength to love MORE instead of feeling like I want to crawl up in the nearest hole and hide away forever and ever.

That person for me will first be a friend before becoming one of my closer friends.

The whole “friends before lovers” idea?

Yeah, it seems I definitely need that.

Actually, I think that may be one of the reasons why Mr. Dozen Lavender Roses missed the mark for me, well, among other considerations (and the fact that he willingly interned at Haliburton).

However, as much as I give myself in my friendships, I know that I can’t help but give something more (due to my feelings of romantic love for this person) and in this, sexual attraction will probably add to the romance of it all.

Then comes a point where my relationship with another will become more important than my relationship with my family...

At this point of vulnerability and trust, I should hope this is with a person I would like to marry. For in that relationship, the number one priority in my life will no longer be for my immediate family (as much as I dearly love them). My parents and sister will become “extended family,” and the first priority will be the family I create with the man I choose for life.

That's what my mother taught's more important than sex.

And sex is pretty important. ;)

Tuesday, October 2

20 Amusing Google Keyword Searches

Of all the many, many things I'm addicted to...

I'm also guilty of being a chronic site stats checker. So every once in a while, I'll check out my Google Analytics to see what sort of searches have induced people oh-so lucky folks to stumble upon the The Laidback Buddhist.

Here are my Top 20 Favorites:

  1. Oprah Winfrey a Buddhist?

    Not that I know of, but if it counts for anything, I’m a Buddhist (albeit a failed one) and I absolutely ADORE Oprah!

  2. Enjoy spoon position

    That I do. Very much. Words for the wise, guys who think cuddling is not important will have an Extremely Unhappy lady by their side...or not one at all.

  3. I want to date a buddhist

    Is there a preference for any kind in particular? I mean, I know of a laidback one and she's pretty cool and er, laidback...despite developing a list of Courtship Rules. ;)

  4. how to be laid back

    Just go with the flow, follow your heart, and don't think about it so much.

  5. meaning of shady character

    Open to interpretation but here's one I encountered.

  6. my hair looks like bird nest

    Ahh, yes. The Infamous Bird Nest. My dad's all-time favorite nickname for my bed head.

  7. procrastination buddhism

    Now, this is my kind of language.

  8. super high resolution buddhist

    For some reason, that sounds kinda hot.

  9. too laid back?


  10. why people are laid back

    I think the better question is, why aren't more people laid back?

  11. drunk chinese girls

    Wrong site, fella.

  12. lazy buddhist

    Glad to know I'm not the only one who believes such a phenomenon exists.

  13. how to coax out a splinter

    Try cursing it instead.

  14. self-haircut tips

    Use thinning scissors, practice when hair is long, and split the haircutting over two days. Don't overcut, sometimes hair just needs time to grow into the cut.

  15. what girls think of asian guys

    You won't believe how many google search hits I got along this line of thinking. Let's set the record straight: girls do like asian guys, okay? You're really cute and for the most part, pretty sweet. You're like any other guy, but you're also your own person. The most important thing is what you think of yourself...why should anyone like you if you don't like yourself?!

  16. why you should date an asian guy

    Finally! Someone google-searching with a positive attitude...uh, right?

  17. Buddhist widget

    Muahaha. I really like the way this person thinks.

  18. my hair isn't growing

    I'm sorry. On the upside, you're not being highway robbed.

  19. John Mayer's hands

    ...are uh-mazing. That's all you need to know.

  20. what makes you a buddhist?

    My Chinese culture, my appreciation for Eastern philosophy, and my mother's family fortune teller.

You people crack me up!

Monday, October 1

The Time Where I Forgot To Follow My Own Advice

I’ve a confession to make.

Then again, it seems I’m always blog-confessing about something or another…

However, this confession is rather embarrassing since just the other day I gave this tip to anyone with an internet connection to read:

“Write for yourself first. Remember that it takes time, effort, patience…and above all, daring.”

But before I make that particular confession, I must confess that I actually have another confession I need to make beforehand (jeez, perhaps I should consider re-titling this post as “The Time Where I Overload Everyone With One Too Many Confessions”?).

Anyhow. The BIG news is that I’m officially one of the bloggers (I think there’s about 10 of us?) for my university’s newspaper, Collegiate Times (CT).

“Officially” meaning that I’m published and “published” meaning that my first blog article for the CT was posted last night.

Yay, me!

It’s interesting how unexpectedly these things result from a random culmination of chance chain-reactions:

  1. girl meets boy

  2. girl falls for boy

  3. boy breaks girl’s heart

  4. girl is miserable, decides she needs to find herself again and does so through writing

  5. girl chooses blogging because she is inherently lazy when it comes to penning in a paper journal and has a perfectionist tendency to edit everything in sight

  6. girl realizes that she actually really likes blogging…a LOT

  7. girl discovers a deviously humorous blog-sparring partner, ever new communities of blogger-friends, and widgets that were born to be lusted after

  8. girl is promptly (and seriously) addicted to blogging

  9. girl begins revealing said blog addiction to her close friends

  10. one of those friends is an English major who happens to receive a flyer asking for volunteer blog writers for the university's student-run newspaper

  11. abovementioned awesome-slash-excellent English major friend forwards flyer to her blog-obsessed friend

  12. girl conveniently forgets promise to herself to limit this year's extracurricular activities

  13. ...thus, blog-obsessed girl seizes opportunity!

Now before I get too carried away with my story in list-frenzy form and end up exposing my embarrassing confession in the list form as well, I must admit that writing for my university newspaper’s blog feels VERY DIFFERENT from writing for my own blog, even though both are (to varying degrees) the same sort of informal personal writing.

You see, I’m required to stick to one category.

I know…quite the mind-boggling madness of a notion for a niche-free personal blog (aka a rather narcissistic place where I muse about anything and everything that strikes my fancy and how it all relates back to yours truly)!

Therefore, after much maddeningly mind-boggling thinking, I finally chose “Health” as my topic. I have some experience and a fair amount of knowledge, although I am by no means an expert. At the very least, I figured it’d be a broad enough subject to accommodate any impulsive tangent I might wander on to. Practical, huh? ;)

I also figured it'd ensure that I wouldn't drone on about the clichéd topic of "relationships, love and dating" for apparently I do enough of it already, if this is any indication.

So, I decided that my first post would be titled “Why More Men Should Take Yoga” and thought up a really catchy first-liner to introduce the article using a mild sexual reference.

“Why More Men Should Take Yoga

Well, besides the fact that they may feel like they’ve stumbled upon a piece of heaven in a room full of women and…mirrors.”

And that, my dear friends, is where I choked.

Because apparently writing for my peersand by that I mean the people with whom I attend the same universityturns me into a self-doubting coward.

It was a sentence that I wouldn’t have hesitated to post on The Laidback Buddhist, but when I write for other people I was surprised to feel a need to censor myself out of fear for being considered inappropriate or unacceptable. Needless to say, I didn’t like that writer’s voice because it wasn’t entirely MY OWN. I had encountered something worse than Bloggler's Block and I had a choice to make. See, I adamantly refused to be dull but then was too scared to follow my own tip to be daring. To write for myself first.

And, oh boy, was it seriously hindering my ability to complete the CT blog add to the problem, now I have DEADLINES to make!

So, there you have It.

My embarrassing confession of the time I forgot to follow my own advice.

I’m happy to report that I kept the original intro and finished writing “Why More Men Should Take Yoga” without restraining what I wanted to say by how I wanted to write it. Granted, the style is slightly different (e.g. more organized and a bit less casual) than my preferred writing style used for my personal blog…but I’m content because it’s still my voice behind my words.

I know this because I somehow managed to seamlessly work in “relationships, love, and dating” into the middle of an article for a "Health & Medicine" category.

No joke! To prove it, I shall proceed to…(narcissistically) quote myself:

“Now before a collegiate mass of single guys eagerly rush over to McComas Gym to flex their muscles for the unsuspecting ladies of yoga-hood during group exercise classes, I ought to warn how a person’s natural aptitude for balance might be an obstacle in their quest for, uh, yoga-enlightened love.”


I laugh at Life, but it seems like Life always gets the last laugh.

Winston Churchill