The Unsuspecting Disciple

Yup, that'd be...ME.

So get this. Apparently, I was officially accepted by Xin Yun Fa Shi (aka lead monk of a now fairly large Buddhist sect following in Taiwan) when I was about 5 years old.

When we lived in ATL, my grandfather had ordered my parents to visit Xin Yun Fa Shi (this was before he was really well-known) in LA and become his disciples...so, off they filially went. I guess it's sort of like being baptized?

My mom pointed him (uhh, my head monk?! I totally need to work on this proper names thing) out to me over Thanksgiving break on TV (we get satellite Chinese channels). He's so plumply cute, with twinkling eyes, freckled sunspots on his face, Buddha ears, a kind smile, and a calm voice--everything you could possibly imagine one's Head Monk ought to be like.

Also apparently, Mr. XYFS Head Monk told my mom I had "Hui Gen," which directly translates into "Wise Roots" and is roughly equivalent to having the potential to develop wisdom or something along those lines.

...yes, ME at 5 years old.

I think it had something to do with my ear shape? Or maybe the deeply intense look in my eyes as I solemnly...so evidently wisely looked up to him.

Which I find ridiculously hilarious, oddly flattering, and slightly unnerving. I wonder if he were to meet his long-lost, unsuspecting, possible black sheep disciple again, what would he say?

"How could you put holes in those ears?!"

0:) Oh, boy.

Whoever is keeping tabs

...kindly forewarn me next time. Thanks.

She says I’m going to fall in love next year. I wonder, how can she be so sure?

Well, I guess that’s beside the point. Deep down, I know that whoever that next person in my life is…I will fall irrevocably in love with him.

Melodramatic much? Probably.

But I know myself well enough to recognize a pattern in my own behavior by now. There’s no denying I’m nearing the third year of my crush/crushed-recovery cycle. I recognize the root of my current restlessness.

Predictable in the most unpredictable way. Every time I toe the line, testing the water just to see how far I can go. Only to fall a little deeper each time.

Too bad I can’t choose my love life like my contact-lenses prescriptions. They don’t say hindsight is 20/20 for nothing. A couple years back, I purposely started choosing to have less than 20/20 vision because I felt having perfect eyesight artificially only made it get worse each year.

Except being able to see clearly is like being able to think straight. Totally irrelevant, totally mental…and totally out of my control.

Deep down, I’m scared I’m not ready.

As if this were something a person could be "ready" for, check off today's to-do list.

The thought of finding the one? Shit, makes a girl wanna run off to Canada. Which, by the way, is exactly what I’m planning to do anyhow. ;)

Okay, okay. Playful joking seriousness aside, it’s true... I can’t wait for it to happen anyhow. It seems like I’ve always been waiting. So, it’s hard for me to fathom, is there really someone out there who cannot resist me?

You have to understand, I’m not just restless as I begin to re-open my eyes to different possibilities. I can be downright reckless. I say, no more. No more unconsciously seeking out unrequited, one-sided, supposedly “safe” love!

Hey, I figure that if there’s a chance I might get hurt, then I better damn well make sure it’s worth my time.

Secretly, the thought makes me smile in eager anticipation.

...I'm either a hopeless romantic or just flat-out hopelessly naive in romance, still. I may be an easy person to be with, but I can’t possibly be an easy person to love (family and friends don’t count here!). I swear, there must be something intimidating about me to other guys in that arena. Honestly, I’m curious to find out what kind of person would accept such a challenge.

Er well, with the exception of moms.

Jeez, recently I’ve come across some really bold moms eager for me to become part of their family. And I thought this sort of chase-down only happened to rakish, wildly eligible but confirmed bachelors…in those old-school regency romances?!

Uhh, let's not explore the implications of that analogy.

Truly, I thought perhaps the yoga mom over the summer trying to sell her son to me so that I can bear her grandchildren (yeeah, I know...it caused me a minor internal freak-out moment, too) was just a one-time fluke. Cute, but weird.

But this past week, I had dinner with a longtime friend and his aunt, who by the end of the night was not-so-subtly trying to set us up. Ironically, he’s turning 28, which is the age I jokingly claimed is the time guys matured in an unsuccessful attempt to gently decline the yoga mom’s aggressive advances...

Seems like I ought to watch what I joke about now, huh?

I call BULLSH*T

Damn right we're concerned that election results didn't make the front-page of our student-run newspaper. In fact, it didn't get mentioned AT ALL. Even the following weeks since Nov. 4th.

Then, there was yesterday's excuse-making and illogical justifications under the article titled: "Reasoning behind NObama on CT's post-election coverage."

NOBama? EXCUSE ME?

Whoever gave the green-light on that one...@#%&!!

No offense to Jim Webb, Tim Kaine, and Mark Warner, but I really wasn't all that excited to see your faces adorning the front-page that Wednesday morning. They're trying to tell us that the senatorial race was more important than the national election to students. That oh, sorry...we don't have photographers in Chicago to take up-to-date pictures of Obama or McCain. That the CT shouldn't have to compete with major national newspapers. That EVERYONE already knew the election results. That such an historical election wasn't worth a single word in print on Wednesday, Nov. 5th, 2008?

Ohh, yeah. Bullshit.

In my final year at Tech, I have NEVER seen my campus react this way to an election before. Virginia went BLUE. And it's Virginia!

People here had hangovers from election night festivities. University bus schedules had been arranged to shuttle people to the polls. Students were wearing their Obama-Biden or McCain-Palin buttons and t-shirts around campus. There were sidewalk chalk everywhere reminding people to go vote that day.

Not relevant to students? Puh-lease.

And then, refusing to apologize when this clearly violates the Principles of Community framed in every single room in all the academic classrooms? When you've admitted that there's been a huge influx of mail from dissatisfied students? A big no-no.

Other people think we can't take this very far or change much of anything...

Well, some people also believed we couldn't get electricity.

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P.S. My students did get power for our One Night Without A Home on the Drillfield, I'm so proud!!! Not to mention we totally wowed our skeptical program supervisor. But for the record, I am NEVER sleeping outside again...guess who's losing her voice? =(

In Defense of an AV system

Ooooh, this woman makes my teeth grind:

"While I know why you want to have a band play, I find it interesting that you want to do this while you are supposed to be experiencing what it’s like to be homeless."

Coming from the person overseeing this program? Yeah, thank you for missing the point entirely.

Call me crazy, but I don't believe much benefit is going to come from my students (I'm a facilitator for a group of Social Justice leadership students) only being "homeless" for just one night.

Plus, the purpose of this engaging leadership program is NOT simply "doing" the service, granted that is an important part of the experience. The overall goal is for students to proactively take the initiative on an issue--that's where the bulk of the learning process is going to come from.

Their true objectives are:

1. Promoting awareness about homelessness in the community/campus
2. Raising $,$$$ to donate to the local nonprofit
3. Getting canned food donations

I mean, seriously now. Who's gonna come watch a bunch college students sleep out all night? What are those people going to take away from it besides, "Oh, they're pretending to be homeless...haha and whoop-dee-doo." Perhaps the more important issue is what does experiencing homelessness actually do for the 400 people applying for assistance from our local nonprofit who had to get turned away on the second day? Tell me that.

Besides the only reason they are going to be camping out on the Drillfield from 7 PM to 7 AM on a Friday night is because people are pledging a dollar for every hour they're "homeless." You know, sort of like Relay For Life held annually in the spring at my university. Bands attract attention (not to mention they are donating their time to a good cause) and sponsors help get the community involved.

Because when the speaker from the nonprofit, the bands, the friends stopping by for moral support, and food from sponsors are all gone by midnight (perhaps even earlier)...it'll just be a group of 17 college students all by themselves in freezing 20-30 degree weather. For the entire night.

Try that for a learning experience.

So tomorrow? Damned if I don't finagle my way into getting my students their AV system.

Yay for HOME!

Hip-hip-hooray! Times a gazillion!

It's perfect because my classes tomorrow happened to get canceled (b/c you know, I always feel so guilty for skipping...that silly freshman "Oo, I'm so rebelliously grown-up" naivety of yesteryear is not worth sabotaging my professors' impression of me (aka I want to keep that recommendation letter positive).

In prep for going home, I bought my sister a set of those ridiculously over-priced multicolored PILOT gel pens that she adores and one of my favorite books (Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver) with a short note on the inside cover from me.

Can you believe the university bookstore had the paperback for only $11? Which is a great deal for such an awesome book, especially in comparison to those friggin' pens.

Of course, my mom is going to scold me for spending money on my kid sis yet again. But jeez, I can't help it! It's one of the 3 areas in my life where I refuse to scrimp on (the other 2 include eating good food and saving up to go all-out on a good vacation).

So yeah, I know I tend to spoil the people in my life whom I love. Although, I can probably argue quite convincingly that it was money well spent as educational supplies.

And uhh, these new sunglasses? Hm.

For health protection purposes... obviously.

Because I should

I should do laundry, really. Ideally.

So, I'm going to hold this thought long enough for it to get realized. Which is totally why you're reading this super-exciting blog post of a girl who's on her last pair (actually it's this really cute black boyshorts, so technically not even).

There are so many thoughts running through my mind, including worrying about all the various papers and presentations due next week, that for some reason all I can focus on tonight is that I really ought to put in the laundry.

Silly, huh?

Perhaps once I get that laundry done, I'll be able to try writing about what's really irking me.

Possibly the only good thing I'm addicted to...

Okay, I gotta confess.

Although, this might not seem like news since my range of blogging topics is even more woeful when I update so sporadically, I know. Or maybe--oh wait, I'm on the verge of getting off track...

Right. Back to the possibly not-so-new newsflash:

I am addicted to group exercise classes. And I mean addicted.

Like I feel I'm this zombie with a crappy attitude when I don't go the gym at least once a day. Which basically means I don't feel good unless some muscle part of my body is proclaiming "I'm going to ache like a whiny bitch today."

But! I think I've reached my goal of being able to 10 full-length push-ups now!!

I say *think* because honestly I'm not quite sure and my arms are still in recovery, so I can't exactly test it out. You see, for the Cardio Sculpt Interval workout during our staff in-service/training on Sunday, we had to do this sequence of exercises* and increase the number of repetitions by one more after each time through. I started collapse-rolling over into my crunches after round 3 and then just flat-out collapsing in my push-ups after round 7.

So probably I'm just inflating the number to make myself feel better, but I know I can definitely do 5 full-length, 100% proper push-ups!

Anyways. This is a BIG deal, I tell you, for a girl who used to flex her arm and people couldn't tell she was flexing. And then upon closer inspection, they could push the muscle it down.

With one finger.

Hm...I need find some people to play some pick-up [basketball] games with because if I could be the shooter with those sort of arms of back then (and I was trained to shoot with the ball above my head instead by the ear, go figure), then MAN! I oughta be on fire fiya now, haha.

Okay, now I'm getting distracted again. I should probably get back to my work anyhow so I can go to bed at a decent hour tonight. I stayed up late finishing a looooong "mini" grant proposal and didn't crash into bed until 3:20 AM this morning.

YET, yours truly still went to her group exercise class today to have her butt kicked.

And we think old habits are the only ones that die hard.

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*jump back into a push-up, jump up into a jumping jack, squat with 8 lbs weights in lifted arms, push-up, forward crunch, knee-high jumps. REPEAT.

Short and sweet pleasures

THE LIST.

Things that made me happy today:

1. Teaching AM yoga, power yoga, and subbing for pilates (although my abs are not going to be as happy about those 3 hours come tomorrow morning!)

2. Double-cappuccino cheesecake...twice.

3. Another 3 amazing hours at Head Start--I'm not supposed to, but I can't resist picking these kids up. I'm always either having my fingers held in their itty bitty hands as they drag me somewhere, my hair being played with, or someone (or two!) crawling into my lap.

4. Re-watching an Audrey Hepburn movie

5. No classes tomorrow!

6. Having tonight for myself to do nothing productive...and indulge in anything I want.

Squee...zed out.

Adrenaline junkie.

My professor said that in passing today…and I think I just might fall under that label. I survived that darkness of a burn-out experience once, yet I can’t seem to stop myself from pushing my limit again. Hi, my name is Joanne and I am addicted to the rush of new experiences.

Except now my packed tight schedule has close to zero flexibility because it is scheduled so back-to-back “perfectly.” Ha! Just remind me to pencil in a love life somewhere...

Anyhow, this week’s new commitments include:

1. Two hrs at a local Head Start.

Finally! I get to work with the cute-cute age group, haha…not that the rambunctious adolescents of last semester weren’t fun, too. But instead of snooty judgments on my fashion choices (“Long-sleeves with shorts? Interesting…”), I get to be an attention-magnet for 3 and 4-years-olds, who love my hair or shyly tell me that I’m “rewwy pwetty”!

Man oh man, I’m that easy.

2. Deciding that my body muscles have adjusted to teaching 3 yoga classes a week and thus, need more stimulation [belated memo from jo’s aching thighs: WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!] I promised a friend to attend a group fitness workout with her in between our classes on the days I don’t teach yoga. Then, only after Monday nearly killed my legs, I figured I found my edge for this week already…or so I thought.

“Uh, is Wednesday’s class more intense than Monday’s?” I’m almost afraid to hear the answer.

She nods emphatically, “But it’s really good…and if you come, I promise I’ll make it to your Thursday class.”

I groan in defeat.

…so now, I just hope I can still walk come Friday.

And you are?

I do believe it’s been a month. Miss me?

Well, I definitely missed blogging.

Chidings for unceremoniously giving the blog the cold shoulder wouldn’t be undeserved, but as even my closest friends know, I disappear over break, rarely seeing even them. It’s the time I set aside for self-recovery and spending the days with my family (with only a handful exceptions over the past couple of years). It’s always a relief for me to cut off the cell, the relentless email, and my time-consuming laptop…it’s almost as if disconnecting ironically allows me to re-connect myself.

Oh, but it’s certainly good to be back, as hectic as Life will soon undoubtedly become again.

There was a delay because I wanted to make sure my new self-hosted (using Siteground thanks to Cooper’s recommendation) Wordpress site was presentable first. Yes, you read that correctly. The laid.back Buddhist received a fully upgraded make-over. With a new color scheme, layout, and pages—I even switched up the quotes!

Now, it was supposed to be super secret until this post, but some of you have already discovered its existence. There are even people who subscribed to the new feed before I even got a chance to, which certainly worked on inspiring me to get a move on it! But just a heads up, there’s still some tweaks left (i.e. finish adding links, adding some plugins, etc).

Anyhow, I’m keeping this Blogger site up to prevent broken links (aka I refuse to lose my 200+ Technorati rating, ha). Plus, since it’s the New Year, I thought it rather fitting to have a completely new site, too.

Ahem. Of course, I realize that it’s been 2 weeks since Jan. 1st.

But! Luckily, the inherent procrastinator is also a laid-back Buddhist who celebrates the Chinese New Year.

Without further digression:

Welcome to the laid.back Buddhist 2008!

Come on over. =)

Simply Bribe Me With Food

Yeah, I'm that easy.

But it’s hard work, this work-hard-play-hard-eat-hard thing.

This week marks the transition from being a sedentary university student with jet-lagged days of sleeping, studying, eating, and skipping yoga to…being my mother’s daughter.

And it’s killing my calves!

Before Vy starts throwing Facebook cows at me (again), let me explain...

I haven’t played basketball in months and usually when that happens, I make-up for it by running on the ellipticals at the gym for an hour, 1-2x a week. But then this year, I got lazy and decided that going to the gym once (sadly, if even!) a week for yoga would be enough.

Yeah, not one of my brightest ideas.

Understandably, my body protested the whole Thanksgiving week in Taiwan—and sore muscles paired with lack of sleep is a surefire way to put a girl in a cranky mood, which is not the best way to spend a vacation. So, I refuse to have déjà-vu torture this upcoming week when we, as my mom jokes, continue to conquer Japan (Sapporo is in the works for the Spring/Summer).

That means re-building my leg muscle. That equals painfully hard work.

It all started Sunday. One brutal, sweat-filled hour of dance sport with Todd (aka Cutest Tush Ever). Feeling overconfident, I decided to bake stuff (in addition to all the usual household chores I pick up when I come home). Toss in cutting my own hair, my sister’s hair, and cut/dyeing my mom’s hair…I’m spending a lot of time on my feet.

It’s enough to induce me to skip 6:15 AM yoga. More than enough.

Unless, of course, you bribe me with food.

This morning, my mom bought a 6” mango cake from Whole Foods. And tomorrow? She’s going for my weak spot: their pumpkin pie.

Mmm, and it’s totally going to work, you know. I didn’t get to eat pumpkin pie or pumpkin cheesecake for Thanksgiving, which is something I look forward to every year starting in October. Therefore, it’s quite safe to say, I’ve been having this unsatisfied pumpkin craving for over 2 MONTHS!

I’ll be damned if I don’t wake up tomorrow at 5:30 AM to go to yoga.

That pie is so mine.

Contentment is not Satisfaction

I’ve been distracted. From writing.

It’s a temporary affliction, I assure you.

With finals week looming over my head, my current life mainly consists of alternating between my studies and rewarding myself with episodes of Korean dramas/movies. So, I haven’t really had the time to focus on blogging. And instead of writing before bed, I’ve taken up leisure reading, which is something I NEVER do during the academic year. The current book is a whim (a collection of poems by Rumi) that I picked up from Barnes & Noble over the weekend.

However, it’s not so much distraction as it is dissatisfaction. My thoughts are in chaotic limbo, so please...consider yourself forewarned.


I scolded him when I wrote back the other day. For being bored in Darmstadt.

I gave him the quote from my dad on how the world is like a book, urged him to “read more lines,” and joked that he was seriously being jipped if he—especially with the thirst for activity I know he has—didn’t take full advantage during his stay. I also wrote that it takes me awhile to build a new heart so he can stop asking if I’ve met anybody new, thanks.

Truthfully, even if I did, I think it'd be difficult to make work.

You see, during this time I’d be too suspicious that I was just exhibiting rebound behavior or something. And I must confess...that’s also the reason I haven’t gone clubbin’ at all this semester, believe it or not. You know how I once wrote that the darkness of the night reminded me of him? It’s because I often spent the evenings with him and even when separately with our friends, we spent a good amount of our nights together. So, I knew that this new start of not having the option of his arms to hold me afterwards would crush my heart, flat out overwhelm it with loneliness and/or longing.

Yup, and that concludes the impromptu sob story of why I stopped going to nightclubs on weekends.

Honestly, the appeal has totally been lost and I don’t know if it’ll ever come back since I can satisfy my dance urges at private parties with friends or rockin’ it out alone in my room to all my favorite songs.

On a side note, not partying it up as much as I used to has saved me a shit load of money. Once, my mom even asked if I was secretly working a job on the side because (1) my money market account, for which the account statements are sent home, has been growing faster than usual and (2) she already knows I don’t like receiving a monthly allowance, especially since it keeps increasing (“To keep up with inflation!” she claims). For someone who has never had an allowance growing up, to suddenly be given so much money after entering college still bewilders me.

Another reason, I’m what most people would call…cute when drunk. Think of it as my normal crazy impulsiveness in happy overdrive. I’ve also a tendency to be very, very...friendly. That sort of uninhibited attraction is absolutely fine when I’m raising hell with good friends (gets diffused amongst us) or when my heart is already engaged (gets channeled towards that one person). Otherwise, I fear the alcohol would make me do something my self-esteem would probably definitely regret. So, I’ve taken care not to put myself in situations where rebound behavior could possibly come out and bite me in the ass (if you haven’t noticed, I tend to curse more when stressed from exams, too).

But I’ve digressed.

This post has drifted so far from the originally intended topic (see title for a refresher)… I’ll have to re-start this topic another day, as tonight I’m not sure exactly what I’m blabbering about.

Oh, and did you know? I remember the exact moment when I lose my heart to someone.

Sure, I’ll be somewhat unclear as to all the reasons WHY...in fact, I’m likely to drive myself crazy trying to figure it all out. But I know that once given away, it’s GONE and even if I could, I don’t want it back (ideally, I’d want that person to give me his heart instead).

And for that very reason, I’m scared.

Because I fear that if I see—in the flesh—the person who broke my heart, he could take this new one I’ve only just begun to re-build. I fear that, and it frustrates me as it means that on some level, I also don’t trust my heart. Or perhaps I am stronger, have come further than I think. However, sometimes I get to thinking...what if I’m more scared that in meeting each other again, I would realize I’m over him, over it ALL.

For if that were the case, it means I can’t use nursing-the-broken-heart or still-hung-up-over-the-past-heart to cowardly guard my heart away in oblivion.

So, maybe all I know for sure is that…I’m never going to be sure.

And maybe, just maybe, for now that’s good enough.

I Think So...Er, I Am

“We’re going to Seattle for winter break.”

“Okay. To visit Scott in Vancouver?” Scott’s my favorite younger male cousin.

"That, too."

3 weeks later.

“Actually, we decided on New York.”

“Ooh, does this mean we get to see Brian?” My favorite older male cousin.

“Yes.”

“Yay! Okay.”

Last week.

Voicemail: “Honey, don’t forget to bring back your passport. We’re going to Japan instead.”

That's an interesting new development.

2 days ago.

“Where do you think we should go for winter break?”

Ah, welcome to my mother. Queen of impulsive short getaway trips. I’ve learned not to get overly excited upon hearing a new destination, as there’s a good chance it’ll change.

“What happened to Japan?”

“Osaka’s too cold for your old Ma in the winter.”

I chuckle, guess there IS a way to put a clamp on impulsiveness after all!

“Well, I don’t care where we go if you want to travel," I mention the last part hopefully (albeit casually, I know how much my mom loves the family trips), "And, staying home is just fine, too, you know?”

Yesterday, early evening.

Email from Darmstadt informing me that someone’s going to be back during winter break and with a subtle invitation that he would like to catch up in person, anytime from Dec. 21 to Jan. 3.

Shit.

I changed my mind, Mom. I definitely want to travel—far, far away, please.

Yesterday, late evening.

“You called earlier?”

“Yeah, we might still be going to Japan.”

“Really! Mom, I thought you said Osaka was too cold?”

“Not if we go to the southern part of Japan.”

“Hm, I see.”

“Right now, we’re waiting for tickets from Tokyo to open up. I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Oh, wait…what are the dates you’re looking at?”

“Why?”

“I, uhh, just curious.”

Did I mention I suck at hiding things from my mom? Well, I do. MAJORLY.

Today.

Final Confirmation. Wish granted, Japan trip is on!

And I'm completely happy about this, right?

Friends and Lovers

Everything I say…

It’s an art form, they say.

Erich Fromm wrote The Art of Loving. Sun Tzu wrote The Art of War. Those are just two of all the many, many books titled with The Arts on just about anything you can think of. And that’s just the start of it.

Everything I say is true, but…

The ultimate goal is to take everything to a form of art, isn’t it?

To be able to say: hey look! I mastered it (oh, you sly devil, you), this art of fill-in-the-blank. Sure, it was a long, difficult journey and half the time I thought I was losing my mind way rather than finding it.

But see, I made it. Because I’m here now.

Ends don’t necessarily justify the means, but they make the journey meaningful. They’re a way of giving life purpose for us, lost souls. So, we continue to take everything to a form of art, including the art of an indispensable justification.

The art of justifying why I should say I’m happy after losing a friendship.

I don’t need a lesson on loss. I know what loss is and know that the hardest part is not the actual loss but of letting go. I’ve been a sorry witness to the havoc that not letting go wrecks on a person (and the people who love that person). It’s tough, learning how to come to terms with reality while being able to hold on to dreams. It’s having the guts to make such dreams reality by first having the courage to acknowledge the past for what's worth and simply...let go.

Everything I say is true, but what if…

You see, I have issues. No need to quote me on that, but I do. With letting go. Sometimes, it comes waaaay too close to sounding like giving up. So, I question it. Every goddamn step of the way. Would I be calling it quits or coming to my senses? Or perhaps, calling it quits is coming to my senses.

Okay, sure I’m happy that I’m happy with the latest realization, but that also means I’m happy I lost a friend, doesn’t it? The irony doesn’t escape me.

Everything I say is true, but what if it’s not…

The fact that I did...lose--slowly, inevitably, and despite really naïve hopes--made me sad and hurt and terribly confused because I cared.

And by following my weird, roundabout logic correctly, does being happy now mean I no longer care?

I never expect easy answers, but what I hadn’t expected was not being so sure anymore. Because I do care. Always will, that’s who I am. It’s an indispensable justification for ALL my actions, you ought to know.

I’m happy, I’m alright, and I’m sad that our communication is henceforth going to be just me giving happy birthday wishes once a year.

But that’s how I keep in touch with someone I’ve let go, if the past is any indication. That’s how lovers become friends become yearly well-wishers.

I’m happy, and I care.

Everything I say is true, but what if it’s not what I really wanted to say?

Very much so.

Validity of Singlehood

Yet another sleepless night due to jet-lag for me.

Not having my Mon/Wed classes anymore is seriously screwing yours truly over. So, I’m not lacking in sleep and in fact, I’ve never slept MORE in this unsuccessful effort to get myself onto the right cycle (as if there’s one for college students?!).

I’ll be depending on some real strong black coffee to save my sanity today because I have a full day of classes AND the trio (Kath & Vy) plans on going to see Enchanted tonight. Hope I make it, I’m a big Disney fan. If not through sheer will, the prospect of melting into heaps over Patrick Dempsey's twinkling eyes ought to guarantee it.

In the meantime, let’s talk vacation.

Coming back from break, I feel different—

Sort of like how you don’t see any physical change in yourself because you look into the mirror every day and it’s the same face staring back atcha. Often for me, it’ll take photos from a year or two ago to fully realize how all the minor changes added up…and changed ME.

But this time, I’m not talking about looking but feeling different.

I think this family trip to the other side of the world made me realize that a part of me had been unhappy not just from nursing a broken heart, but also because I wasn’t quite comfortable with being single again.

It’s hard for me to admit that. And, to be completely honest, I can probably only admit it now because I am A-OK with it.

Well, no…as I was “okay” with it these past 7 months or so. It’s more that I’m finally happy for it.

YES, there’s a difference.

Has to be. Because like I said, I feel different and I think it has something to do with this undone knot that had been twisting itself sore in my heart. The realization came from an epiphany that all the bewilderment I’m causing my relatives at being single doesn’t annoy me or embarrass me in the least.

It amuses me!

And if truth be told, I even think I’m some kind of flattered...


1. The first relative to ask about my love life over Thanksgiving break: my dearest grandaunt. The lady’s a hardcore Buddhist and loves me like one of her granddaughters (actually, her decided preference for me makes it hard to be truly close to her real granddaughters, my cousins).

Always a ripe straight-shooter, she pulled me aside one morning to ask, “Do you have a boyfriend yet?”

My sheepish smile turns into an indulgent grin as she gives her head a quick shake and makes a really cute series of clucking disapproval.

“Don’t worry, Ah-Ma,” I call her the Taiwanese version of grandmother because growing up that’s what I heard my cousins calling her and it stuck always felt right to continue to do so, “When I do have a boyfriend, I’ll take him back to see you. For you to see how great he is, okay?”

She responds with some more disapproving clucks before finally giving in to my smiles.

2. The second to ask was my favorite uncle. Even after all these years, I still can’t get over the fact that everyday people of Taiwan will know his name and recognize him on the streets of Taipei.

“Soo, Joanne. Do you have a boyfriend?” It’s a question he always asks every time I see him.

“Nope.” And, it’s the same answer he always gets.

“Now, are you just saying that because your parents are sitting here?”

I laugh at the way he’s grinning at me. “There really isn’t a boyfriend in the picture.”

He proceeds to give me a look saying that he thinks I’m lying before changing the topic.

3. Third (and last, I lucked out because I didn’t get to see my 4th/3rd/2nd aunts this time) were my godmothers. Yes, my sister and I have 2. They are my mom’s college friends and they’re friggin’ hilarious.

“No boyfriend?”

“No.”

“No? Really?!” She exclaims as I chuckle over my bowl of really good Japanese rice.

I nod and offer a half-shrug.

“Or is it because kids these days have different definitions for boyfriends? You might not think so, but it might mean boyfriend to us.”

My mind briefly flashes with an image of my former lover.

At this point, my mom interjects the conversation, “Joanne won’t bring a guy home until it’s time to go to the altar.” She purses her lips while giving me a meaningful look of displeasure, “When she should BEFORE then to let her wiser parents take a look at him. She’s so protective! It’s not like I would chew the boy to shreds.”

Raising an amused right eyebrow, I call her out, “Oh, mom. You know you so would!”

She picks up her chopsticks to continue eating, “Well, only if he deserved it and couldn’t hold his own. If he was a good boy, there isn't anything to worry about, is there?”

I laugh.

She makes a valid point.

GAHHHH.

1. Jet-lag is such a bitch. Couldn’t fall asleep at all Monday night. Made it through classes, an exam, and then crashed at 4 PM. Unsurprisingly, I woke up at 4 AM and had so much friggin’ energy! Cripes, I got myself onto the weirdest cycle.


2. I had an IM waiting from Vy when I opened my laptop: “someone wants to greet you when you wake up:” …hot damn. Incoherent gushing may have occurred.


3. Everyone’s either sleeping or studying, so you know what that means?

Story time.

I got shoes over break!
I chose shiny black pumps!
And suede brown boots!

Okay, so that’s not really a travel story per se (they will come later and eventually) and much more like a series of gushing proclamations.

But for this girl, that’s kind of a BIG deal because (for once!) it’s NOT tennis shoes or super-cute, comfy walking shoes… I mean, as much as I love those.

Growing up, I burned through my tennis shoes every year (think basketball). Literally created holes, the bottom peeling off…wasn’t pretty and it drove my mom nuts: "I thought I was raising a girl?!”

It’s gotten better, though, since I realized that they last longer when I’ve several different pairs to rotate between.

It took much of my later teens to get used to wearing heels (I already felt so tall, you see, and had yet to learn how to be fully comfortable in one's own skin). For the longest time, I just owned a pair of practical strappy 2” black ones. Several years later, I graduated to 3” dark-brown leather ankle boots. Then, somewhere along the way, I started really appreciating my height and began (dare I say it?)… liking heels!

And now?

I love having the options, and it's one less silly self-imposed constraint! Got no problem rocking out in 4” heels, if so desired.

Well, except when a gal forgets that she hasn’t worn a pair of heels in well over 7 months, and so a smarter gal wouldn’t have spent entire days voluntarily vainly choosing to walk around Taipei in her new 3” brown suede boots (mid-calf to knee high, oh but they looked so good!).

Seriously, how do other women manage it?! My feet punished me in spades.

Ah, the price of vanity—a lesson which can’t ever be over re-learned.

Guess Who

Thanksgiving was a relief (though at times, tantalizing close to torturous).

A bittersweet symphony of outrageously fun laughter and occasionally not-so-friendly bantering. Family can be such a big ol’ mess with all the vibrancies of raw love.

I had a good time, but as with all vacation-traveling, it was tiring.

After the 14-hr flight from Tokyo (coming back isn’t as bad because following the flight from Taipei, Taiwan, we stayed in Narita, Japan one night before heading back to the States), the family and I arrived home Saturday morning at around 11:30 AM.

...and, uh, I slept until 4 AM the next day.

Tis a naïve hope, I know, to overcome the time-switch from Asia in 1 day, but I’ll try regardless (as I futilely do every year). And so, yours truly is ambitiously attempting to get her lazy, jet-lagged bum to ALL 3 of the yoga classes offered today, a feat yet to be conquered this semester...



11 days away yields a TON of stories to share and to fondly reflect back on. With everything so recent and so very much at once, it’s hard to know where to even begin.

“The world is like a book: if you’ve only lived in one place, you’ve only read one page of that book,” as my dad likes to say.

His dream/tentative future plan is to retire in 5-10 years, take my mom (and lesser-paying temporary positions) to live in various countries for anywhere from 3 to 6+ months. Although, I’m trying to figure out how our past and recent family visits to other countries fits into this whole book analogy of his.

I suppose traveling could be like the teaser on the back or the inside flap of a book. Sure you'll get the gist of it, but none of the richer details?

Could that be one of the reasons why we always go back to the same countries over and over again...because one visit left us hungering for more?

Oh, and hungering is quite the fitting word for my family.

You know that motto WORK HARD, PLAY HARD?

We add a third: EAT.

Just one of the reasons I ought not skip going to the gym this week!!!

Up, Up, and Away!

Damn, it’s almost noon.

I need to:

1. Pack my bags (yes, still)

2. Do laundry bring it home

3.Clear the fridge

(jeez, seriously have got to stop doing things the day of)

4.Resist the urge to help out the Judicial Office

5.Resist the urge to pack my textbooks and work…

Because break for me is exactly that.

No cell phone, email, or laptop. I go on a social hiatus, flip the switch and my number one priority and focus is my family.

Okay, not that they aren’t always numero uno.

But when I’m away at school, student life becomes this greedy attention-whore. It’s why my mom has to pull a preemptive strike to make sure I visit on weekends (by the way, I totally aced my Mom’s Ritual Health Inspection…well, except the whole eating-meat-5x-a-week thing).

I tried to explain to her that the number isn’t really as bad as it seemed because the actual amount each time isn’t a lot and that when I occasionally make dinner with Vy, we’ll use organic chicken. She still looked aghast, though.

Well, I’ve been busy getting work done early (gasp, the inherent procrastinator?!) because I don’t like dealing with the guilt of having unfinished work looming over my head when I’m with my family or when trying to enjoy my full-body massages.

Speaking of which, last week I realized that it’s been over 6 months since someone (other than me) has touched my legs. Holy shit, the dry Virginia winter air wreaks vicious havoc on careless bums who don’t lotion their bodies after showers.

And oh boy, this is going to sound borderline hypocritical of me…but when I don’t have Someone of Interest to me, I get lazy and instead of moisturizing my skin every day, it becomes every 2-3 days (read: basically when my skin screams back at me in vindictive mutiny). Likewise (for partly the same reason for my haphazard use of body lotion), these days I’m also more likely to be seen wearing The Uniform of hoodie, jeans, and tennis shoes. There’s this really sweet German grad student whom I worked with last year, and she said how much she liked my style. How unique it is...

...uh, sadly...this year, the past few times I've ran into her on-campus I’ve been wearing The Uniform. What’s more embarrassing is that for each of those times, I happened to wearing the exact same Maroon hoodie.

Cringes.

Anyhow. I need to finish some work (so that I’m not tempted to bring it along) and start throwing in dirty clothes into my suitcase. Just wanted to wish everyone a super-early Thanksgiving, I’ll be out of touch.

So, enjoy the reconnecting, rejuvenating recharge with your families, I know I will*!

_______________________________________________
*Well, besides fending off questions from extended family of why I don’t have a boyfriend, why I decided not to go to med. school after all, why I plan on moving across the country, etc and oh…yeah that 24/7 nurse-maid who always tries to flirt unsuccessfully (and very distastefully) with my dad whenever we visit.

7 Things You Don't Know, But I Do

Yikes, I'm so behind on my memes.

'Bout time for another one (I’m also behind in replying to comments for the past 3-4 previous posts!). So I'm jumping around because...uh, this is the shortest one on my Memo of Memes To-do list.

Tag is thanks to Rich! And Mitch! <--exclamations to point out! How they rhyme!

Here goes:

1. I can’t fall asleep until my feet are warm.


2. I believe in destiny. I believe in fighting it so that I can say I found it and not the other way around.


3. I love cartoons and animated movies. I can fall for a guy who isn’t fazed when I choose Over the Hedge for our movie night.


4. If I drink coffee, I like it black. I usually opt for Japanese green tea, preferably Shincha (the first harvest of Sencha) and from Japan. I know, I’m such a tea snob like that.


5. I’m a Chinese elementary school dropout. My speaking fluency is mainly due to growing up on Chinese drama/martial art TV series. My reading ability was further honed by the Chinese subtitles for Japanese and Korean drama series. My writing ability is stuck in the fifth grade. But that was good enough for me to once be a TA for a university-taught Elementary Chinese course...food for thought, huh?


6. I did not wear make-up until I was almost 19. Mascara is too much effort most days. I stick with eyeliner, some eye shadow, and chapstick. I refuse to put on foundation of any sort unless it’s performing on a stage.


7. In high school, I liked to torment tease my mother with proclaiming my intentions to have children by going to a sperm bank. When she was struck speechless, I knew I had struck gold. However, she was able to quickly recover and swiftly warned me I better watch what I say or karma is gonna get me and I’ll have smart-mouthed brats who enjoying torturing their mother.


8. Hell yeah, I got rice, bitch.
   

Who's next in line?

My blog sparring partner, Dan. Of course.

And Lisa, to see what other brilliant randomness she can send my way. Mr. Kimchihead because his stories intrigue me. Mcgee. Even though she already confessed some secrets, I want to see if there are any other ways I can relate to her awesomeness. And because I can never get enough of Susie and her thoughtful musings. Marc, for being so freakin' fantastic and talented. Abba, who already gives me a generous dose of kick-ass attitude with each post...but I want more because damn if I'm just greedy like that. MissMrs: this is karmic return, haha. And good thing, as I just realized I forgot to add your meme to my to-do list on the sidebar! Jason. Words can't express, only laughter. What's next? Zesty, who needs to tell me what LTTP means...Love That Titillating Post? Like, Totally Too Predicatable?!

You can tell meeeeee. *pats halo above head and smiles winningly*

Enthused.

So, there’s a secret bursting to have its story told.

Oh, it drives me crazy, keeps me up late even when I can finally go to sleep at a decent hour (relatively speaking) for the first time in days, and cuts me open, flooding my senses with both fretful apprehension and fulfilling excitement. Each morning, I wake up whimpering to my modestly obnoxious alarm, bemused to find my sheets twisted halfway to the floor (seriously, again?!) and a ginormous knot of hair in the back of my head.

No, I’m not sharing my bed with someone.

But I am excited about this new thing I'm trying.

You see, it's the first time I’m dedicating time to find a place for my own two feet, not someone else’s. I’m not battling to help save an organization from dwindling finances or pursuing recognition for the untold stories of unheard voices. I’m not protesting the continually undercut funds for the language programs at an engineering and athletics-focused school or protecting the naïve mistakes of my residents. I’m not falling for a person unwilling to give me the same in return.

Instead, I’m redirecting that focused, unconditional energy inwards, where it’s needed the most right now.

I’m reining in my restlessness excuses not to grow up, excuses not to pursue what makes me deliriously happy. I’m daring to think that what I want is actually possible…for the sole reason being because I want it. I’m focusing on details that’ll keep me hastily jotting down jumbled thoughts on a yellow legal pad well past 3 AM.

I’m asking myself tough questions. Over and over again, until I admit the answers.

Walking back tonight, I suddenly realized that the darkness of night no longer bothers me because I can look up and smile at the stars. They twinkle back, promising me the unknown delight of another night, a prelude to the new day.

I’m championing my own cause, and the irony is that it’s so I can champion the causes of others.