I Can Pay For Your Shrink

This morning’s inbox brought in a long email plea for help from my kid sis, who's about to turn 16 in a month (holy crap! she’s reached her sweet 16 already?!).

But I’m only a mere 5 years older than her. I mean, who am I to give her advice on Life when I’m still trying to figure out my own!!!

Oh, boy. I sure hope my advice isn't so off the mark or scarring in the way that causes people to seek therapy to recover later on in life.

___________________________

Keeks,

First, I’m SO glad Todd is coming back safe from overseas! Do you know if it’s for sure? Mom and I took his class over the summer right before he was deployed (you were at Northwestern). HE IS AWESOME. You’ll probably see an increase in people attending the sports dance class. I swear, that man has the cutest tush ever…and the way he shakes it puts ME to blush! I can’t say if you’ll feel the exact same connection (near impossible when everyone’s different), but he’s an excellent teacher, to boot. So don’t worry, you’ll love him and you’ll learn a lot.

Oh, AND he’s drop-dead gorgeous, tall, great smile, very toned…and in sleeveless cut-off shirts, he looks more like some hot basketball player than a professional dancer/teacher. Babe, I’m so freakin’ envious!!!

Okay, enough gushing from me. Back to the serious topic at hand.

You’re right, it’s never too late. Take your old jie for example. You know from last weekend that I’ve only just figured out some things. It was a long time coming—what you don’t know is that it’s been an idea in the back of mind all these years. I let it marinate, patiently waiting for the right opportunity. Or perhaps, I was simply waiting for me to be ready. Because something can be right and not the right timing. Don’t feel rushed. Opportunities come and go, yes…but half of those opportunities come because we made damn sure they would.

You know Katherine? It reminds me of her wise advice in regards to splurge-shopping: don’t buy it right away but if you find yourself constantly thinking about it over the next couple of days, then that means you really want it. My decision took four years (and counting!) to come into being. So take it easy and just ride it out.

You and I both know that when Mom says “it’s too expensive,” it’s only half-true. We both did fencing at the Academy and got sent off to summer camps for how many years? Exactly.

You are definitely old enough to make your own decisions (though that doesn’t change the fact that you are indeed the baby of the family still!). HOWEVER, one of the reasons mom is opposed is because she may feel that this is a passing phase or that it should just remain a hobby.

Do you remember how Mom and I fought it out during middle/high school when I wanted to try out for the girls’ basketball team? Afraid that I’d be doomed to never grow out of my tomboy-ness phase, she had final word in this matter (as you know is usually the case, haha), but dad secretly asked me on the side if I did try-outs just for kicks. Which meant that if I really wanted to and proved my capability, Dad would’ve championed my cause (like when I joined the volleyball team). In that instance, it turned out that Mom happened to be right—basketball is a purely recreational thing once I realized that one of the main reasons I play is because of how much I enjoy the pick-up games with the guys.

You never know what’s in store for you, and as you get older you do garner a better idea of what your preferences and dreams are. But see, even that is subject to change.

My advice?

The next time you decide to hash it out with Mom, be more prepared than a boy scout. Show her that this is something you are willing to handle, that you CAN handle. Follow-up on those options! These are questions you should be asking Meagel, or ask the manager at our health club if they’d be willing to take Meagel on as full-time staff, etc. And even if in the end things doesn’t work out the way you want to, keep in touch with her because who knows? Maybe your senior year, timing will be right again and you can pursue this passion with Mom’s approval. Or, like you said, at college.

Sure, it seems a long ways away and that you’re losing a one-time opportunity, BUT this could also be the experience that shows you that this is a passion you want to keep up.

And for the record, Life definitely gives you second chances…

You only need to look for ‘em.

Much love, jie.

(jie = Chinese for older sister)

WARNING: With Strings Attached

They say girls can’t separate love from sex like guys can.

And while I’m sure there are exceptions out there—perhaps with dire consequences—I’m not one such exception. I may love without strings attached, but every action of mine does come with my heart attached.

Sounds morbid. Although actually it just means that everything I do is driven by my feelings.

Which definitely makes for a tricky situation if one’s lover was one’s friend but not one’s boyfriend (but twas an educational experience nonetheless).

Girls are generally unfazed, but it amuses me like no other when some of my guy friends get momentarily thrown off by the quick kiss on the cheek I occasionally give as we hug good-bye, usually spur-of-the moment or if we haven’t seen each in a long time. It’s akin to how when you see children bump their head against a table…if you don’t make an issue out of it, guess what? IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL.

Plus, who doesn’t like a friendly kiss (or two!) on a cheek? It’s so sweet!

You see, I love it when the initial, potentially awkward grey-phase with a guy is over and you both know that the relationship is purely platonic. I get to be greeted with kisses! Strong bear hugs that spin me around!

And have frank conversations such as this:

In response to hearing that I'm taking a Human Sexuality course this semester, Tony, one of my more sexually open-minded male friends (it must have something to do with his Latin blood) asked me when he came down for the deflating BC game aka Tyrod-Taylor-is-not-allowed-to-sprain-his-ankle-EVER (and I don't even like football!) only one question about it:

“So, do you know where the G-spot for men is?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Because Life's Not Bad...

...or at least, generally not as bad as we often think it is.

"Baby was up all night again crying. I'm not 100% sure but I have a feeling she was up crying out of embarrassment over how badly her mom is getting her ass kicked in the polls." - Mrs. Furious

I read that on the Weblog sidebar and could NOT STOP LAUGHING!!!

After checking out her category to see how the sassy Ms. Furious was really faring, I realized that my 200-some votes behind is actually quite marginal in comparison to her 1,000-plus-some votes needed to surpass the leading contestant.

Anyhow.

Thanks for voting, showing such continual support AND for using this as an opportunity to mess around with my mind...

YC:Oh shucks what if I clicked the wrong button??
JK:Hm, if you clicked the wrong button I don't think there's anything to be done...I guess you'll just have to make sure you click the right one for the next 24 hr period? LOLs!
YC:LOL! I was just kiddin', Joanne :)

*whew!*

I’m so freakin’ gullible...and the Internet seems to compound such gullibility.

And just now starting to realize that this whole Weblog Awards thing...?

It's kind of a big deal.

VOTE ME for Best Diarist?

I am in awe*.

Thanks to everyone’s support, Cooper’s** nomination carried me through...to become a 2007 Weblog Awards FINALIST.

Suh-weet!

However, that means the real hardcore voting has now officially begun:

Click HERE to cast your vote!

To give underdogs a fighting chance, individuals are allowed to vote ONCE every day. The voting period extends til Thursday, Nov. 8th, so please help a girl out these next 6 days by voting for yours truly.

And then who knows?!

I might actually have a decent shot at winning this thing!

In fact, I might even feel bold enough by the show of support to hold a no-bounds (eeps!!) “You Q; I’ll A” session to celebrate afterwards…

Was that a bribe in not-so-subtle disguise?

Why, of course. ;)

I mean, did you seriously expect anything LESS devious from a...well, deviant laid-back Buddhist?!

Plus, you ought to realize how firmly I believe in the whole point of learning rules simply to figure out which ones to bend and break.

(JUST KIDDING…um, hi Kevin!)

So have at it!

This is especially targeted at those 80-some feed readers who may have already (or not) de-lurked your lovely, witty selves.

Yes, that was a blatant (albeit sincerely meant!) attempt at cajoling flattery.

Anyhow. Feel free to leave a comment so that I may gush excitedly, give personal thanks, and send IOU's of back massages...

You know, the works.
_____________________________________________________
*and as such, my competitive (good-natured, ‘course!) instinct has kicked into overdrive.
**Cooper made finalist herself: Vote WONDERLAND OR NOT!

The Runaways

My family is my home, and home is my saving grace.

Not a place for me stay, it’s a place for me to COME BACK to.

Clearly it’s quite different from being a castaway, as I’m not being rejected. Instead, I’m the one deciding to reject...to seek new possibilities.

Instead I am the runaway, first.

I remember how back in the 2nd/3rd grade we got to write short stories that were then bound into spiffy, grown-up-looking miniature books. I wrote books with whimsical titles like “Her Unicorn” and “Momma Mia, Poppa Pia!”

But my ultimate favorite was titled “The Runaways.”

Even having since left childhood, the appeal of such an idea has stayed with me. It’s the seed that spawns my incurable restlessness and my keen yearning to experience absolutely everything at once!…my bursting ambition to have it all, just so I know (and can choose for myself) what I don’t need or want.

And for all the words in the world, I can’t explain it.

Especially when I’m on the verge of realizing what I’ve been running away, running towards all my life thus far. I know it, I think I see it, and yet I have no idea what the It actually is!

It’s the fleeting epiphany that haunts me.

A sweet sound of the last breath.

This time last year I finally started admitting to people that I was applying for med school. Though only when I was specifically asked as I never offered that information first. And with each time I uttered the words “pre-med,” the surer I became that it was exactly opposite of what I wanted.

Oh, but I kept saying it still.

Each time growing ever more dissatisfied with myself.

So, this time last year, I started leading a double-life of sorts.

It seemed to others I was pursuing one thing when really I was doing all I could to run in the other direction. Taking the MCATs barely broke a sweat for me because I didn’t care enough to stress. I was fine with my average score (hell, even my writing scored the letter right smack dab in the middle) because my life didn’t depend on it.

It wasn’t the life I wanted anyhow.

Call it the very best-kept of all my secrets from year 2006.

Or so I thought.

This time this year, my mom casually said at the dinner table:

“The thing you wanted to tell us this weekend, is it that you don’t want to go to med. school?”

My dad and little sister jerked up their heads.

I took a deep breath, or two.

My parents' words of 'whatever you want to do, we will support your decision as long as it's your passion' was being put to the test. I know of their unconditional support, but I feared the crushing possibility of their disapproval, of disappointment.

“Yes.”

Letting go of the breath I was holding, I was finally able to take my first...

“Okay. What're you going to do instead?”

...breath of utter relief.

At those words and to the surprise of everyone at the dinner table (including myself), I proceeded to cry puddles into my plate of half-eaten food. Not the pretty kind, mind you. But the unstoppable kind where my nose turns red and my cheeks get all blotchy, where I’m sniffling and hiccuping at alternating intervals…

The kind only my family and a few, close friends have seen.

You see, The Runaway would’ve run away following her heart regardless, but damn! running away is SO MUCH BETTER with the ones you love and respect the most.

It's so much lighter.

This Is What Cold Weather Does To Me

The range extremes of my day-to-day concerns will worry while simultaneously amusing me.

I’ll be contemplating the next city I want to live in. Next moment, I consider how some kind of lonely my bed seems with just me in it.

I’ll be imagining what I might possibly see myself doing in the next couple of years. After re-verifying that those particular possibilities are endless and will be unexpected as per usual, my mind wanders off into a realm of infinite different sorts of possibilities: namely, (un)comfortable spooning positions to sleep in.

I’ll be thinking about what work I need to do first and when’s the best time to complete it, then I’ll be calculating how much sleep I’ll allow myself tonight. And before I know it, I’m yearning for some warm body to wrap his arms around me as I drift off into sleep.

I’ll be sitting in The Lyric (a small, cozy theater downtown complete with a balcony and velvet curtains!) with Kath as we watch the oh-so uplifting Rape of Europa on Halloween night (because we be cool like that)... Then, sheesh! All this talk of the Germans unwittingly reminded me of that certain German/French boy who broke my heart and is currently in Germany.

Gah!

You see what I have to put up with everyday?

I’m going to bed.

Yes, in a threesome...called me, myself, and I.