You wear many hats as a teacher; teacher, mentor, parent, sounding board, shoulder to cry on, counselor, friend, confidant, inspiration-leader, etc. But being a teacher also feels like you have multiple personalities. The different feelings you go through within an hour is unimaginable. One minute things are amazing and within a second something makes you snap and you get angry... or frustrated... or sad.... or dumbstruck,... or tired... or loopy. It's enough to make a person go crazy. It's why teachers need happy hours; many of them.
Today, during morning meeting, I experienced the "multiple personality disorder" in probably one of my favorite ways possible.
The students were going around talking about their long weekend away from school due to two teacher work days. As I was listening to their very similar stories, I became really sad and heartbroken about their home lives.
...our electricity went out...
...we were starving but we didn't have any food to eat...
...we had to walk to the store because our car is broken and we don't have money to fix it...
...I had to sleep with my brother because there are cockroaches in my bedroom...
I can't even begin to imagine what they go through.
And at the moment my heart couldn't break anymore and the tears were about to start flowing, my favorite little student, J, jumped out of his criss-crossed sitting position on the floor and farted SO LOUD. I kid you not, J literally fart-rocketed right.off.the.ground. And then he plopped right back down on the ground and was completely shocked at what had just happened. It was the best thing I'd seen all year long. And it made me so happy inside. Now, because one of my wishes was to stop laughing at this in front of my students, I did my VERY best to not crack a smile or laugh. And I did just that.
But I was DYING on the inside.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Sunday, January 27, 2013
A Night To Remember
We started the night out, C and I, decked out to the nines. Looking good in Clarendon was a must for newly single 23 year olds who were going out on the prowl. At around 9 we walked from C's apartment up the street to the bustly intersection of Washington and Highland... to the ever-so-famous Mister Dudes... Days. Normally our drink of choice would be vodka tonics, however, being such an important night, we decided shots of Patron were in order. With two under our belts we made our way to the dance floor and dropped it like it was hot. Picture this... two tall ladies; one asian, one white.... dancing like we were video vixens. Getting lots of attention. But not the attention of men that we thought we wanted.
We quickly closed out our tabs and walked across the street to C.Grill; a more desirable demographic. And then again, we dropped it like it was hot. And, of course, we ordered more Patron shots.
C and A: Cheers! ::clink Patron shots - LickedItSlammedItSuckedIt::
Random Dude: What are you ladies drinking?
C and A: Patron shots
Random Dude: That's intense. Celebrating anything?
C and A: Being awesome. And single.
Random Dude: Cool. Do you want a drink? I'm Chris XXXX and I have lots of money. (yes, this does in fact happen)
C and A: We're good. But thanks. Nice to meet you, Chris.
Random Dude: What are your names?
C: I'm Veronica
A: And I'm Natalie.
Random Dude: Come find me later when you guys want a drink.
C and A: Okay. We're gonna go dance.
Random Dude: I'll be watching.
We left the bar area, found a spot that wasn't visible to Chris and danced a little more. As the Patron started coursing through our bodies a little stronger, we decided that we want another shot; however, we didn't want to pay for it. That was when we remember Chris. Now, maybe it's just me being a huge B. But when a guy tells me he has lots of money I'm going to believe him and take advantage of him. C and I didn't want to talk to him so we decided to take orders into our own hands (I blame the liquid courage at this point).
Bartender: What can I get you ladies?
C and A: Two shots of patron. Chilled.
Bartender: ::bringstheshots:: Tab?
C and A: Chris XXXXX
Bartender: Who's tab is that?
C and A: ::lookingateachother:: It's this guy Chris'.
Bartender: Who?
Obviously the bartender thought we were trying to pull a fast one on him. Our hearts start pounding. How were we going to talk our way out of this one? As luck would have it, we saw Chris at the end of the bar chatting up some other ladies. Phew.
C and A: CHRAAAS! ::frantically waving our hands::
::Chris looks up and sees us::
C and A: CHRAAAS!! Hey CHRAAS!!
::Chris waves back to us::
C and A: That's Chris
Bartender: Okay. Thanks.
SCORE!! We had pulled it off. We took the shots and went back to dancing. We only went back on more time to get another round of Patron shots and then decided that it was time to go. When we walked outside the tequila took it's toll... we were shit housed. I mean, beyond drunk. We teetered down the street back to C's apartment but made a pit stop to sit down on the corner of a busy intersection... in a planter.
C sat first and couldn't keep her balance so she fell backwards into the planter... and got stuck. I sat down and leaned forward as not to fall back like C. And that's when I felt the bile rising in my throat.
The first wave came and I threw up on the ground with some vomit splattering onto my heels. And I felt better. I looked over to C who was frantically trying to get up but was too drunk to do so. I remember thinking she looked like a turtle one his back trying to get up and couldn't. But damnit if she wasn't trying her hardest. And that made me laugh. And then I needed to throw up again. So I turned my head and threw up in the planter this time. And then kept laughing because C was still trying to get up. Apparently one's core becomes weak when drinking Patron because she could not get up. And she was making lots of weird noises and laughing. And that made me laugh. But that made me want to throw up. I'm sure we looked like fools to people walking by.
Eventually I stopped interchangably laughing and puking enough to help C get up. After surveying the damage, we quickly started walking back home. And by walking, I mean stumbling. There was no stumbling in a straight line that night... we were zig zagging. We must have looked so bad because that night not one, but TWO seperate cars stopped to ask us if we were a) okay and b) needed a ride home. We declined both times and continued stumbling home, all the while, screaming out "CHRAAS! Thanks CHRAAAS!" the entire way back.
[Ed. Note: This story took place many many years ago. I was reminded of this night this past weekend and it made me smile... For those who are wondering, we managed to get home unscathed and not arrested. ]
We quickly closed out our tabs and walked across the street to C.Grill; a more desirable demographic. And then again, we dropped it like it was hot. And, of course, we ordered more Patron shots.
C and A: Cheers! ::clink Patron shots - LickedItSlammedItSuckedIt::
Random Dude: What are you ladies drinking?
C and A: Patron shots
Random Dude: That's intense. Celebrating anything?
C and A: Being awesome. And single.
Random Dude: Cool. Do you want a drink? I'm Chris XXXX and I have lots of money. (yes, this does in fact happen)
C and A: We're good. But thanks. Nice to meet you, Chris.
Random Dude: What are your names?
C: I'm Veronica
A: And I'm Natalie.
Random Dude: Come find me later when you guys want a drink.
C and A: Okay. We're gonna go dance.
Random Dude: I'll be watching.
We left the bar area, found a spot that wasn't visible to Chris and danced a little more. As the Patron started coursing through our bodies a little stronger, we decided that we want another shot; however, we didn't want to pay for it. That was when we remember Chris. Now, maybe it's just me being a huge B. But when a guy tells me he has lots of money I'm going to believe him and take advantage of him. C and I didn't want to talk to him so we decided to take orders into our own hands (I blame the liquid courage at this point).
Bartender: What can I get you ladies?
C and A: Two shots of patron. Chilled.
Bartender: ::bringstheshots:: Tab?
C and A: Chris XXXXX
Bartender: Who's tab is that?
C and A: ::lookingateachother:: It's this guy Chris'.
Bartender: Who?
Obviously the bartender thought we were trying to pull a fast one on him. Our hearts start pounding. How were we going to talk our way out of this one? As luck would have it, we saw Chris at the end of the bar chatting up some other ladies. Phew.
C and A: CHRAAAS! ::frantically waving our hands::
::Chris looks up and sees us::
C and A: CHRAAAS!! Hey CHRAAS!!
::Chris waves back to us::
C and A: That's Chris
Bartender: Okay. Thanks.
SCORE!! We had pulled it off. We took the shots and went back to dancing. We only went back on more time to get another round of Patron shots and then decided that it was time to go. When we walked outside the tequila took it's toll... we were shit housed. I mean, beyond drunk. We teetered down the street back to C's apartment but made a pit stop to sit down on the corner of a busy intersection... in a planter.
C sat first and couldn't keep her balance so she fell backwards into the planter... and got stuck. I sat down and leaned forward as not to fall back like C. And that's when I felt the bile rising in my throat.
The first wave came and I threw up on the ground with some vomit splattering onto my heels. And I felt better. I looked over to C who was frantically trying to get up but was too drunk to do so. I remember thinking she looked like a turtle one his back trying to get up and couldn't. But damnit if she wasn't trying her hardest. And that made me laugh. And then I needed to throw up again. So I turned my head and threw up in the planter this time. And then kept laughing because C was still trying to get up. Apparently one's core becomes weak when drinking Patron because she could not get up. And she was making lots of weird noises and laughing. And that made me laugh. But that made me want to throw up. I'm sure we looked like fools to people walking by.
Eventually I stopped interchangably laughing and puking enough to help C get up. After surveying the damage, we quickly started walking back home. And by walking, I mean stumbling. There was no stumbling in a straight line that night... we were zig zagging. We must have looked so bad because that night not one, but TWO seperate cars stopped to ask us if we were a) okay and b) needed a ride home. We declined both times and continued stumbling home, all the while, screaming out "CHRAAS! Thanks CHRAAAS!" the entire way back.
[Ed. Note: This story took place many many years ago. I was reminded of this night this past weekend and it made me smile... For those who are wondering, we managed to get home unscathed and not arrested. ]
Thursday, January 24, 2013
It's Comes Full Circle
I am one of three siblings. I have an older brother and a younger sister. We're not technically Irish triplets but we are Irish and we are all about a year apart from each other. About. So I like to call us Irish triplets. When we were growing up (and I know we're not the only ones to have experienced this), we were always being called each other's name by our parents. My mom, especially, couldn't ever call us by the right name. I was called Danny a lot. Danny was called Kathy a lot. Kathy was always Angela (maybe that's why Danny and Kathy go by very different names now). Sometimes we would hear DannyKathyAngela and that's when we knew one of us was in real big trouble.
I used to think "how hard is it to call your own child by the right name?" There's only three of us. and we all have very different names (none of our names start with the same letter). Well life thinks it's pretty funny because I have just recently experienced the same thing I "judged" my parents (and a lot of parents) about.
I have a set of twins in my class this year, Mario and Emanuel. And they are IDENTICAL. I have never met a more identical set of twins in my life. The only difference is that M has a tiny mole on his face. M, mole. That's the distinguishing factor. But it's so tiny that I can only see it up close and personal. So, if they are standing in front of me, I know which one is which no problem. But, most of the times they aren't that close to me.
It is not uncommon to hear a "EmanuelMarioAHH" coming from the classroom. Or sometimes I'll look at Mario and say Emanuel to which he'll reply "I'm not Emanuel. I'm Mario"... and vice versa. It's getting old. And my other kids will always correct me, too. I find it extremely interesting that they can tell them apart EACH AND EVERY TIME...
I know what you are thinking. There's got to be some other way to tell them apart. No. They're the same height. They have the same haircut with the SAME cowlick. And they wear the same clothes/shoes to school every day. Every. Single. Day.
It's been almost 2 quarters now and I think the twins have finally reached their limits. Today, Emanuel wore a vest so that, and I quote "could tell them apart." The rest of their outfits, down to their brand new snow boots, was identical. Things were going well (let's not forget the fact that I only had them for about two hours total due to a late opening). As we were taking a bathroom break I looked at the twin in the vest and said "Mario. Restroom."
To which the twin in the vest, obviously exasperated, said "I'm not Mario. I'm Emanuel. Oh forget it."
I get it mom. I really do. I'm sorry for being mad at you when you called me DannyKathyAngela.
I used to think "how hard is it to call your own child by the right name?" There's only three of us. and we all have very different names (none of our names start with the same letter). Well life thinks it's pretty funny because I have just recently experienced the same thing I "judged" my parents (and a lot of parents) about.
I have a set of twins in my class this year, Mario and Emanuel. And they are IDENTICAL. I have never met a more identical set of twins in my life. The only difference is that M has a tiny mole on his face. M, mole. That's the distinguishing factor. But it's so tiny that I can only see it up close and personal. So, if they are standing in front of me, I know which one is which no problem. But, most of the times they aren't that close to me.
It is not uncommon to hear a "EmanuelMarioAHH" coming from the classroom. Or sometimes I'll look at Mario and say Emanuel to which he'll reply "I'm not Emanuel. I'm Mario"... and vice versa. It's getting old. And my other kids will always correct me, too. I find it extremely interesting that they can tell them apart EACH AND EVERY TIME...
I know what you are thinking. There's got to be some other way to tell them apart. No. They're the same height. They have the same haircut with the SAME cowlick. And they wear the same clothes/shoes to school every day. Every. Single. Day.
It's been almost 2 quarters now and I think the twins have finally reached their limits. Today, Emanuel wore a vest so that, and I quote "could tell them apart." The rest of their outfits, down to their brand new snow boots, was identical. Things were going well (let's not forget the fact that I only had them for about two hours total due to a late opening). As we were taking a bathroom break I looked at the twin in the vest and said "Mario. Restroom."
To which the twin in the vest, obviously exasperated, said "I'm not Mario. I'm Emanuel. Oh forget it."
I get it mom. I really do. I'm sorry for being mad at you when you called me DannyKathyAngela.
Monday, January 21, 2013
A Letter to My Past
Dear Middle School Me,
First off, you're not cool. As much as you ran with the cool crowd, you didn't belong. And you won't figure this out until you get into high school but middle school was a joke. You worried about fitting in. When you get to be 30, it'll just be a little blip on the screen of your amazing life. These people you call friends? Won't be there when you're older. You eventually move and lose touch with all of them (minus B... she hangs around for a little).
A little advice about your attire. One word: stop! Stop dressing like a man. Those sweatpants/sweatshirt combo (which we call a heather grey tuxedo today) is not flattering. Yes, those K-Swiss shoes were "da bomb" back then, but putting them together makes you look like you belong in a Missy Elliot video. And let's be honest, you won't get your dancing ability for years to come. Socks and Adidas sandals. Don't do it.
Please tell grandma to stop pulling your hair so tight in your ponytails. You look like you have no hair. As a matter of fact, the only way people realize you're a girl is by the big JLo hoop earrings you wore. Add a little side swept bangs.
Stop crushing on the science teacher. You will look back and realize that Mr. B was not cute. He was just young and funny. He was short and hairy. Definitely not your type - which you won't know what is until, well, hmmm. I'll get back to you on that one. Don't act dumb in this class and have to stay after with him. You're only doing this because your friends are. You love science. You are good at science. Knock it off. No ones like a dumb girl... or even worse, no one likes a smart girl who acts dumb.
Those pretzels, fries and VeryFines at lunch? Don't eat them. Carbs are your enemy. You are not thin. Leave those to friends with very fast metabolisms. These will only add to your horrible time trying to lose weight when you get older. Step away.
Pay more attention to the sewing lesson in home economics. You can barely sew on a button today. Pay more attention in shop class. You can't hammer a nail worth shit. And you don't want to have to rely on a man to help you with home improvement stuff. Pay more attention during "Voyage of the Mimi"... that cute little boy. He becomes famous.
CKone smells good. But it's a male's cologne. Stop dousing yourself in it everyday when you congregate around P's locker. You do it because your crush, S, wore it. Guess what? Why would he want to date you if you two smelled the same - a preteen boy.? It's why it took so long for him to actually ask you out to go to the mall. And when he does, say no. You go to the mall with him and he tried to steal stuff.
That guy, GK, who was at the locker next to you. Don't disregard him because he has red hair and freckles. He was cute and he liked you. Be kind to the nerds. Those are the ones who will go far. Who you end up "dating" ends up incarcerated for being in a gang. And also, you end up loving gingers.
Getting your period isn't as embarrassing as you think. Though you won't get breasts or hips until junior year of high school, it's a huge milestone into the women you become. Don't be embarrassed to ask dad to buy tampons. He doesn't care. Also - start wearing tampons immediately. You miss out on too many pool dates because you didn't. They're not so bad.
Take more risks. Audition for the songs in Chorus. Enter an art piece during Art Class.
Make friends outside of your circle. You'll only become more diverse.
Go to dances. And actually dance. You'll learn you have rhythm.
Be kind to your parents. You'll appreciate them more the older you get.
Spend more time with your grandparents. You'll wish you did when you get older.
Start to love yourself more at this age. It only gets harder with time. But it will make your life more fulfilling.
xoxo,
Yourself in 2013
First off, you're not cool. As much as you ran with the cool crowd, you didn't belong. And you won't figure this out until you get into high school but middle school was a joke. You worried about fitting in. When you get to be 30, it'll just be a little blip on the screen of your amazing life. These people you call friends? Won't be there when you're older. You eventually move and lose touch with all of them (minus B... she hangs around for a little).
A little advice about your attire. One word: stop! Stop dressing like a man. Those sweatpants/sweatshirt combo (which we call a heather grey tuxedo today) is not flattering. Yes, those K-Swiss shoes were "da bomb" back then, but putting them together makes you look like you belong in a Missy Elliot video. And let's be honest, you won't get your dancing ability for years to come. Socks and Adidas sandals. Don't do it.
Please tell grandma to stop pulling your hair so tight in your ponytails. You look like you have no hair. As a matter of fact, the only way people realize you're a girl is by the big JLo hoop earrings you wore. Add a little side swept bangs.
Stop crushing on the science teacher. You will look back and realize that Mr. B was not cute. He was just young and funny. He was short and hairy. Definitely not your type - which you won't know what is until, well, hmmm. I'll get back to you on that one. Don't act dumb in this class and have to stay after with him. You're only doing this because your friends are. You love science. You are good at science. Knock it off. No ones like a dumb girl... or even worse, no one likes a smart girl who acts dumb.
Those pretzels, fries and VeryFines at lunch? Don't eat them. Carbs are your enemy. You are not thin. Leave those to friends with very fast metabolisms. These will only add to your horrible time trying to lose weight when you get older. Step away.
Pay more attention to the sewing lesson in home economics. You can barely sew on a button today. Pay more attention in shop class. You can't hammer a nail worth shit. And you don't want to have to rely on a man to help you with home improvement stuff. Pay more attention during "Voyage of the Mimi"... that cute little boy. He becomes famous.
CKone smells good. But it's a male's cologne. Stop dousing yourself in it everyday when you congregate around P's locker. You do it because your crush, S, wore it. Guess what? Why would he want to date you if you two smelled the same - a preteen boy.? It's why it took so long for him to actually ask you out to go to the mall. And when he does, say no. You go to the mall with him and he tried to steal stuff.
That guy, GK, who was at the locker next to you. Don't disregard him because he has red hair and freckles. He was cute and he liked you. Be kind to the nerds. Those are the ones who will go far. Who you end up "dating" ends up incarcerated for being in a gang. And also, you end up loving gingers.
Getting your period isn't as embarrassing as you think. Though you won't get breasts or hips until junior year of high school, it's a huge milestone into the women you become. Don't be embarrassed to ask dad to buy tampons. He doesn't care. Also - start wearing tampons immediately. You miss out on too many pool dates because you didn't. They're not so bad.
Take more risks. Audition for the songs in Chorus. Enter an art piece during Art Class.
Make friends outside of your circle. You'll only become more diverse.
Go to dances. And actually dance. You'll learn you have rhythm.
Be kind to your parents. You'll appreciate them more the older you get.
Spend more time with your grandparents. You'll wish you did when you get older.
Start to love yourself more at this age. It only gets harder with time. But it will make your life more fulfilling.
xoxo,
Yourself in 2013
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Say What??
I know I've told you before that my class is made up of mostly ESOL students. It's been pretty evident up until now how little vocabulary they have and how their accents make it hard for me to understand them sometimes. It's getting better the more they learn and the more language they acquire. And recently, I've had no issues understanding them.
Today during my mini-lesson I was bashfully reminded how ESOL some of my students are.
The past week we've been learning about adjectives... describing words. I stole a project from my friend/coworker and had them list adjectives that described themselves. Like a good teacher, I did a model project of myself. So, I wrote down a few words under my pictures that described me:
..."AND, you have big boos"...
My heart sank. He said I had big boobs. And one of the other little boys started giggling because he heard the same thing I did (a little disconcerting that he knew what those were). What was I supposed to say? What do I do?
I took a deep breath and had him repeat it again like a good ESOL teacher. And he said it again... "you have big boos." But this time he made hand gestures. And he motioned to his feet/shoe area. AHHH, my big boots!! Phew...
Unfortunately I told him that big boots wasn't an adjective to describe me but that big was an adjective to describe my boots. And with that I wrote big on the board. Hey, if the boot fits, wear it!
::end scene::
Today during my mini-lesson I was bashfully reminded how ESOL some of my students are.
The past week we've been learning about adjectives... describing words. I stole a project from my friend/coworker and had them list adjectives that described themselves. Like a good teacher, I did a model project of myself. So, I wrote down a few words under my pictures that described me:
- tall
- funny
- kind
- brown eyed
- smart
- creative
- beautiful
- silly
- super smart
- hot (cringe worthy)
- nice
- bestest (I'll take it)
- huggable
- loving
- respectful
- responsible
- young
..."AND, you have big boos"...
My heart sank. He said I had big boobs. And one of the other little boys started giggling because he heard the same thing I did (a little disconcerting that he knew what those were). What was I supposed to say? What do I do?
I took a deep breath and had him repeat it again like a good ESOL teacher. And he said it again... "you have big boos." But this time he made hand gestures. And he motioned to his feet/shoe area. AHHH, my big boots!! Phew...
Unfortunately I told him that big boots wasn't an adjective to describe me but that big was an adjective to describe my boots. And with that I wrote big on the board. Hey, if the boot fits, wear it!
::end scene::
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Korean Traditions
My friend A's daughter is turning 100 days old on Saturday. I know what you're all thinking... 100 days? Really? Well, this is a Korean celebration that goes back to centuries ago when childhood diseases were common and the survival rate for children was very low. The 100th day meant that the child made it. And it was a huge celebration. This is the first big milestone for Korean children.
The next big milestone in Korean culture is the Tol - the first birthday. One year old. At this celebration there is a special even called the toljabee. During this event, several items are placed in front of the child for them to pick from. Traditionally, Koreans think that the first thing the child grabs foresees the child's future. Different items signify different things. Some common items include:
After A's story, everyone was super interested in this tradition. And I, being the only other Korean friend in our group, was next to tell my story. My parents put the traditional items on the table - books, toys, rice, thread, money. My mom says she wanted to add a stethoscope because she wanted a doctor in the family but alas, she did not have one. Wanna know what I grabbed? I reached for the books. Scholarly. And, as you all know, I'm a teacher. Pretty cool, right?
After that night, I was curious to know about my siblings. So I asked my parents about my sister. Well, they couldn't remember. But, since she's a teacher I would assume she reached for the books, as well. Then I asked about my brother. Guess what he grabbed. He went for the money. Why am I not surprised by this? And if you know my brother, you wouldn't be surprised by that either.
**on a side note: my mom is still really mad at herself for not adding the stethoscope. There was a moment in time when my mom THOUGHT my future wasn't going to be based around books. In high school I was an athletic trainer and went into college a pre-med student... but as fate would have it, I changed majors and went the education route. Sorry mom. False alarm. I, to this day, wonder what would of happened had a stethoscope been present.
The next big milestone in Korean culture is the Tol - the first birthday. One year old. At this celebration there is a special even called the toljabee. During this event, several items are placed in front of the child for them to pick from. Traditionally, Koreans think that the first thing the child grabs foresees the child's future. Different items signify different things. Some common items include:
- thread - long life
- money or rice - wealth
- books - successful scholar
- pen - wisdom and writer
- stethoscope - doctor
- balls - athlete
- knife - good cook
After A's story, everyone was super interested in this tradition. And I, being the only other Korean friend in our group, was next to tell my story. My parents put the traditional items on the table - books, toys, rice, thread, money. My mom says she wanted to add a stethoscope because she wanted a doctor in the family but alas, she did not have one. Wanna know what I grabbed? I reached for the books. Scholarly. And, as you all know, I'm a teacher. Pretty cool, right?
After that night, I was curious to know about my siblings. So I asked my parents about my sister. Well, they couldn't remember. But, since she's a teacher I would assume she reached for the books, as well. Then I asked about my brother. Guess what he grabbed. He went for the money. Why am I not surprised by this? And if you know my brother, you wouldn't be surprised by that either.
**on a side note: my mom is still really mad at herself for not adding the stethoscope. There was a moment in time when my mom THOUGHT my future wasn't going to be based around books. In high school I was an athletic trainer and went into college a pre-med student... but as fate would have it, I changed majors and went the education route. Sorry mom. False alarm. I, to this day, wonder what would of happened had a stethoscope been present.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Impressions
After I finished my student teaching for grad school, the school asked me back to be a long-term sub for a teacher who was going on maternity leave. I, of course, accepted and thus started my 2nd stint at teaching. I immediately became friends with two teacher who worked there; a girl who worked next door to me who helped me out and the science teacher we know today as J. We were fast friends... the three best friends that anyone's ever seen. We hung out at recess, at lunch, outside of work at bars and in my classroom.
J was in the process of going through a divorce from his wife when the nasty rumors started of the "intern" (read: me) was diddling the science teacher. A) I wasn't diddling him (he he was still married) and B) It was always the three of us hanging out. But, as gossipy teachers with no lives go, they found the fresh fish to narrow in on and twisted it into us having a relationship.
Fast forward two years later to my new assistant principal, M, who just so happened to be a teacher at the aforementioned school. Obviously he had heard the rumors as his first words to me on this first day at his new school was "Have you talked to, J?" Seriously? Even the guys?
Now, this is not me tooting my own horn by any means, and I'm not sure how it happens because of my initial shyness, but I tend to make friends easily. I've been told by several friends on several occasions that people are drawn to me... I'm the flame to their moth. So, it isn't a surprise that I've become friends with the people in my school who I work close with.
The past week, on more than one occasion, I happened to be in my classroom with two of the younger male teachers when M walked by. And not only was he walking by while two guys were simultaneously in my room, but he was walking by at the moment we happened to be laughing. And each time he did this, he looked in with a curious look on his face.
To fill you in on stuff so YOU don't get a negative impression of me, one of the dudes does intervention reading with half of my class so he was in there leaving things for his students and the other guy, the gym teacher, was in there asking me how I felt since I had been sick for the week. But, I'm sure to an outsider, this could be misconstrued.
M, I'm sure, has definitely gotten it twisted. His old impression of me, based on rumors of me diddling the married teacher from the old school, has most likely been projected into his new impression of me at this new school. And I guess I can understand that... I mean, perhaps I would have thought the same thing if I were removed from the situation. Should I be angry at this impression of him when, in fact, I am the common denominator in both situations?
I wonder if I should be changing my work ethics... sometimes I thing that I'm too friendly at work... that I joke too much. But I NEED it. I work in an environment where I would go crazy if I don't get adult interactions... and fun jokey interactions at that because the rest of the day is spend serious and teaching. I don't know.
Then I remind myself that one of my New Year's Resolutions was to stop caring about what people think of me. And that's exactly what I'm going to do. So, M, you go ahead and think what you will of me. And I know I won't be able to change your first impressions about me. So I'm going to go ahead living my life and doing what makes me happy. And if joking with my coworkers makes me happy, then so be it. Maybe next time you should join in and see exactly what's NOT going on.
J was in the process of going through a divorce from his wife when the nasty rumors started of the "intern" (read: me) was diddling the science teacher. A) I wasn't diddling him (he he was still married) and B) It was always the three of us hanging out. But, as gossipy teachers with no lives go, they found the fresh fish to narrow in on and twisted it into us having a relationship.
Fast forward two years later to my new assistant principal, M, who just so happened to be a teacher at the aforementioned school. Obviously he had heard the rumors as his first words to me on this first day at his new school was "Have you talked to, J?" Seriously? Even the guys?
Now, this is not me tooting my own horn by any means, and I'm not sure how it happens because of my initial shyness, but I tend to make friends easily. I've been told by several friends on several occasions that people are drawn to me... I'm the flame to their moth. So, it isn't a surprise that I've become friends with the people in my school who I work close with.
The past week, on more than one occasion, I happened to be in my classroom with two of the younger male teachers when M walked by. And not only was he walking by while two guys were simultaneously in my room, but he was walking by at the moment we happened to be laughing. And each time he did this, he looked in with a curious look on his face.
To fill you in on stuff so YOU don't get a negative impression of me, one of the dudes does intervention reading with half of my class so he was in there leaving things for his students and the other guy, the gym teacher, was in there asking me how I felt since I had been sick for the week. But, I'm sure to an outsider, this could be misconstrued.
M, I'm sure, has definitely gotten it twisted. His old impression of me, based on rumors of me diddling the married teacher from the old school, has most likely been projected into his new impression of me at this new school. And I guess I can understand that... I mean, perhaps I would have thought the same thing if I were removed from the situation. Should I be angry at this impression of him when, in fact, I am the common denominator in both situations?
I wonder if I should be changing my work ethics... sometimes I thing that I'm too friendly at work... that I joke too much. But I NEED it. I work in an environment where I would go crazy if I don't get adult interactions... and fun jokey interactions at that because the rest of the day is spend serious and teaching. I don't know.
Then I remind myself that one of my New Year's Resolutions was to stop caring about what people think of me. And that's exactly what I'm going to do. So, M, you go ahead and think what you will of me. And I know I won't be able to change your first impressions about me. So I'm going to go ahead living my life and doing what makes me happy. And if joking with my coworkers makes me happy, then so be it. Maybe next time you should join in and see exactly what's NOT going on.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
that awkward moment...
...when you're eating some pho to cure your illness and you realize you're listen to a lesbian first date at the table behind you...
....when you're in line for the pharmacy and the teenage girl in front of you asks for Plan-B (the morning after pill), then turns around and shrugs her shoulders at you. By the way, she looked like a baby she was so young...
...when you're stopped at a stop light listening to one of your old favorite Rihanna songs (Please Don't Stop the Music) and the little white boy at the crosswalk is singing, what can only be something appropriate for a nerdy white boy, but matches exactly with your music...
...that awkward moment when you're stopped at said stoplight and you sneeze at the exact moment the car full of dudes next to you is looking over at you. Have you ever seen yourself sneeze? I can't imagine it to be pretty...
... when you realize that all of this just happened within 2 hours of your life... this is my life, ladies and gentlemen....
....when you're in line for the pharmacy and the teenage girl in front of you asks for Plan-B (the morning after pill), then turns around and shrugs her shoulders at you. By the way, she looked like a baby she was so young...
...when you're stopped at a stop light listening to one of your old favorite Rihanna songs (Please Don't Stop the Music) and the little white boy at the crosswalk is singing, what can only be something appropriate for a nerdy white boy, but matches exactly with your music...
...that awkward moment when you're stopped at said stoplight and you sneeze at the exact moment the car full of dudes next to you is looking over at you. Have you ever seen yourself sneeze? I can't imagine it to be pretty...
... when you realize that all of this just happened within 2 hours of your life... this is my life, ladies and gentlemen....
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
I'm a Survivor
The freckles on your body signify damage to the skin. Your heart breaking and attemping to heal itself signifies emotional damage. Scars on the skin. Repairs within the body from a broken bone. However these scars manifest, it shows hurt and trauma. But these scars tell a story. A story that bring character to the person who beholds it. I think there is something beautiful about scars. It means triumph. It means that the hurt is over, the wound is healed, done with. It is a mark of strength - both inner and outer. Survivors.
My scars span decades and tell several stories. I am not ashamed of any of my scars. I'm very much proud of them and what each mark has told me. Now, if you've read my blog in the past, you'll know the inner scars... so I won't bore you with those. Here, I'm going to tell you the stories of my visible scars. The ones that people most ask me about and some that people don't even notice.
I have a half-dollar sized scar on my knee with a thin faint scar leading away from it for about two inches. It almost looks like a balloon. This is the biggest one on my body. And it has scarred me the most, emotionally and physically. I remember the day when I got this. I was crabbing with my grandparents/family on the Chesapeake Bay Bridge (or some other small bridge near it). I went venturing out, as I always did, with my sister because it was hot and we were bored. On the way back, I ended up racing my sister, tripping on a raised board and falling. What I fell onto was a nail that was sticking out of the bridge. It dug a deep hole into my knee and, subsequently, the length of my sliding. I didn't notice it until I got back to where my grandparents were and they flipped when they saw the amount of blood. And when I looked down, my face must have turned white because my dad grabbed me and carried me to the car. I was taken to the emergency room where they washed it, sterlized it and wrapped it up. For some reason they didn't, or couldn't, give me stitches. I ended up having to wear a soft cast on it so that I wouldn't bend my knee and reopen the would over and over again. It was the worst, most itchy, few months I've ever experienced.
The next scar is on the same leg - about 3 inches about it. When I was in middle school I tried so hard to fit in. My best friend was one of the popular girls and, through that, I was in that crowd, too (though I'm not sure I really belonged). I did things I shouldn't have done only to fit in with them. Why? B was the ring leader and she was my best friend. I didn't need to impress anyone else. But I did anyway. Call it teen angst. Call it peer pressure. But I went with the crowd. On Fridays we had free choice during P.E. My group of friends would usually just hang out on the floors around the gym writing messages in pen on each other's bodies. Most of the other kids would play basketball. I can remember it like it was yesterday. I was so smitten with this guy, S, and he asked if he could write something on my leg. Naturally, I gave in. As he was in the middle of writing something, a basketball came our way and literally drilled the pen into my leg. I mean literally. The basketball landed right on top of the pen and started spinning. It was so surreal. It drilled into my leg like a warm knife digging into butter. We all stood there in shock. I had no idea what to do. No one did. We didn't want to tell the teacher because we had gotten in trouble for bringing pens to P.E. before. So, like what any middle schooler would do, I took the pen out of the skin and lets the blood start gushing out.... and by gushing I mean GUSHING. I ran to the nurse, dripping blood throughout the hallways and my dad had to come get me. Now, I don't know if he didn't take me to get stitched because he wanted me to learn a lesson from this or because he didn't think it was bad, but I went home and had to take care of the wound myself. I used butterfly bandaids to keep the wound closed and exaggerated the wound at school for weeks to come. It took a while for it to close but it eventually did. The memory of that day will stay with me forever. It's like it happened yesterday.
I have three scars on my face that I CHOSE to have. My family members all have beauty marks on our faces. It's a mark of being apart of the Kim side of the family. I used to have three... one under my eye, one on my chin and one under my bottom lip. But like many Asian cultures, the Koreans believe that the placement of these marks signify certain things and were either lucky or unlucky. I was told by my family that:
So there you have it. My scars. My beautiful scars. I have several more, like the one that I got from chicken pox and the one from falling off my scooter, but everyone has those. These scars are unique. No one else has these scars or these stories. And that's what makes them cool and beautiful. I survived a fall on a bridge, a stabbing and evil Korean beliefs. Who else can say they overcame those? I'm a survivor.
My scars span decades and tell several stories. I am not ashamed of any of my scars. I'm very much proud of them and what each mark has told me. Now, if you've read my blog in the past, you'll know the inner scars... so I won't bore you with those. Here, I'm going to tell you the stories of my visible scars. The ones that people most ask me about and some that people don't even notice.
I have a half-dollar sized scar on my knee with a thin faint scar leading away from it for about two inches. It almost looks like a balloon. This is the biggest one on my body. And it has scarred me the most, emotionally and physically. I remember the day when I got this. I was crabbing with my grandparents/family on the Chesapeake Bay Bridge (or some other small bridge near it). I went venturing out, as I always did, with my sister because it was hot and we were bored. On the way back, I ended up racing my sister, tripping on a raised board and falling. What I fell onto was a nail that was sticking out of the bridge. It dug a deep hole into my knee and, subsequently, the length of my sliding. I didn't notice it until I got back to where my grandparents were and they flipped when they saw the amount of blood. And when I looked down, my face must have turned white because my dad grabbed me and carried me to the car. I was taken to the emergency room where they washed it, sterlized it and wrapped it up. For some reason they didn't, or couldn't, give me stitches. I ended up having to wear a soft cast on it so that I wouldn't bend my knee and reopen the would over and over again. It was the worst, most itchy, few months I've ever experienced.
The next scar is on the same leg - about 3 inches about it. When I was in middle school I tried so hard to fit in. My best friend was one of the popular girls and, through that, I was in that crowd, too (though I'm not sure I really belonged). I did things I shouldn't have done only to fit in with them. Why? B was the ring leader and she was my best friend. I didn't need to impress anyone else. But I did anyway. Call it teen angst. Call it peer pressure. But I went with the crowd. On Fridays we had free choice during P.E. My group of friends would usually just hang out on the floors around the gym writing messages in pen on each other's bodies. Most of the other kids would play basketball. I can remember it like it was yesterday. I was so smitten with this guy, S, and he asked if he could write something on my leg. Naturally, I gave in. As he was in the middle of writing something, a basketball came our way and literally drilled the pen into my leg. I mean literally. The basketball landed right on top of the pen and started spinning. It was so surreal. It drilled into my leg like a warm knife digging into butter. We all stood there in shock. I had no idea what to do. No one did. We didn't want to tell the teacher because we had gotten in trouble for bringing pens to P.E. before. So, like what any middle schooler would do, I took the pen out of the skin and lets the blood start gushing out.... and by gushing I mean GUSHING. I ran to the nurse, dripping blood throughout the hallways and my dad had to come get me. Now, I don't know if he didn't take me to get stitched because he wanted me to learn a lesson from this or because he didn't think it was bad, but I went home and had to take care of the wound myself. I used butterfly bandaids to keep the wound closed and exaggerated the wound at school for weeks to come. It took a while for it to close but it eventually did. The memory of that day will stay with me forever. It's like it happened yesterday.
I have three scars on my face that I CHOSE to have. My family members all have beauty marks on our faces. It's a mark of being apart of the Kim side of the family. I used to have three... one under my eye, one on my chin and one under my bottom lip. But like many Asian cultures, the Koreans believe that the placement of these marks signify certain things and were either lucky or unlucky. I was told by my family that:
- The one under my eye was like a tear... that I would be faced with lots of sadness; a lot of crying in my lifetime. I couldn't have that now could I? So I decided I wanted that one removed.
- The beauty mark (yes, they call it a beauty mark) around my mouth was indicitive of, well, beauty. It is a symbol of desire, passion and eroticness (is this a word?). However, at the same time, it also symbolized unfaithfulness. People with moles near their mouths used to get teased with variations on the saying “바람기 있다,” which is basically a way to call someone a flirt in Korean. Uhhh, what now? Come again?
- The one on my chin didn't really mean much. Some say that it means that you love traveling and adventure; which would mean that you might not stay in one place for long periods of time. It could also mean a lucky life. I dunno. But I figured if I was getting rid of the other two, I might as well get rid of this one.
So there you have it. My scars. My beautiful scars. I have several more, like the one that I got from chicken pox and the one from falling off my scooter, but everyone has those. These scars are unique. No one else has these scars or these stories. And that's what makes them cool and beautiful. I survived a fall on a bridge, a stabbing and evil Korean beliefs. Who else can say they overcame those? I'm a survivor.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
that one time i was brilliant
On Sunday, before the big Redskin's playoff game, V and I went to XSport to finally get myself a membership. My LA Boxing membership had since expired and I was beginning to become a little soft in places that weren't before. I happened to be wearing my Reskins jersey that day when I went in [sidenote: for all you fuckers out there that don't think I'm a Redskin's fan (okay, not die hard like some of yous guys) I've been watching them since my family and I moved to this area when Art Monk and Superbowl were synonymous with Redskins. I even used to wear gold stirup pants with burgundy and gold slouch socks. Now shut it down].
Anyways. I was sitting at the desk waiting for my teacher ID to be authorized when this big black man who was working the front desk came over to me and said, "Do you want to switch out of that and into a Cowboy's shirt?"
To which I, without skipping a beat (and actually very proud of myself for being so quick witted) yelled, "HAIL, No!"
He, too, was taken back by my response but recovered his shock with a big smile and a "Now that you're a member here, I bet I'll be able to change your mind on that one."
Cocky. Cute. Never gonna happen.
Anyways. I was sitting at the desk waiting for my teacher ID to be authorized when this big black man who was working the front desk came over to me and said, "Do you want to switch out of that and into a Cowboy's shirt?"
To which I, without skipping a beat (and actually very proud of myself for being so quick witted) yelled, "HAIL, No!"
He, too, was taken back by my response but recovered his shock with a big smile and a "Now that you're a member here, I bet I'll be able to change your mind on that one."
Cocky. Cute. Never gonna happen.
Monday, January 7, 2013
Do Things Really Change?
When I can't sleep (which has been pretty regular lately) I'll dick around on FB. Back in 2009 I wrote a "25 Things" piece about me (a la the Glamour magazine articles) and thought I would see how many things have changed since then... the things in red will be the changes and/or new developments.
Here we go. 25 Things and Changes?:
1. Only a handful of people know and call me by my Korean name. Just my family members call me by it these days.
2. I used to hate my height but now I love it. Still love it.
3. I love wearing really high heels... not only does it make my legs look amazing, but I can see over the crowds. Still wearing really high heels... and usually end up busting my ankles.
4. I was betrothed to Dr. N,.... So there was some more stuff that was a part of this that I got rid of because it was the kind of information that would hurt people and ruin relationships... And I don't want to bring up the past nor hurt anyone.
5. Now I am betrothed to his brother. And I'm also now betrothed to J and C. What's a girl to do?
6. I have tried on several occasions to donate blood, however, I always backout due to my phobia of needles. Still can't donate blood to the Red Cross... but I'm getting better each time with getting my blood drawn at doctor's appointments. Still makes me want to vomit though.
7. I have a phobia of spiders, too. Yup, still have this one. Add any sort of creepy insect to this one, too.
8. I get extremely fed up when my classmates yell out the wrong answers in class. I know the answers... I just don't ever speak up (see #9). I'm not in grad school anymore so this is a moot point. However, I get fed up when my students yell out wrong answers.
9. I have a fear of speaking in public. My face turns bright red and I start feeling faint. Yup, still have this fear. But I've actually done one story telling thing to help me get over it. Did it? Nope, not in the least.
10. Alcohol is my liquid courage. Does that make me an alcoholic? I'm not an alcoholic. I'm just more talkative, and more fluent in Spanish, with alcohol.
11. I often come off as being standoffish or bitchy... I'm not. I'm just shy. You have to peel away the layers. I get called standoffish a lot still. But I've learned a secret method from a friend that seems to be working.
12. I laugh a lot... at inappropriate things and inappropriate times. Always have, always will.
13. I miss my preschool babies everyday. I miss all my kids I've taught everyday... but I'm excited to see what they accomplish the older they get. That makes me proud.
14. I have a hard time sleeping at other people's houses or with someone else in my bed. I've learned to sleep with someone else in my bed. I hate sleeping at other people's houses.
15. Scary movies make me laugh. I have yet to find one that has really scared me. My brother says it's because I'm scientific by nature. Still looking for a truly scary movie. Anyone wanna go movie hunting with me?
16. My brother's nickname is Dank and my sister's nickname is Kat. I wish I had a cool nickname like that... you can't do much with Angela... and what you can do sounds really white trash. Still can't do anything cute with Angela without it sounding trashy. I now get called cute nicknames like Panda and Twinky.
17. I have a ritual at work before I can begin my day: eat cereal, drink cup of coffee, check my personal e-mail, check my work e-mail, check my smut online blogs. Nope. This was when I worked for the consulting firm. Since becoming a teacher my ritual has changed. Now it goes a little something like this: photocopy papers, get room ready for kids, check work email, make oatmeal and coffee, use the bathroom before the kids come in, deep breaths.
18. I believe that I have already met my soul mate... but unfortunately, I ruined it somehow. I don't think I knew who I was talking about there... just that I'd met him and blown it. I still believe this. Is there one soul mate out there for everyone? No. I'm still waiting to meet some more.
19. I am the epitome of "The Ugly Duckling." Yup. And proud of it.
20. I can remember the shirt I was wearing in preschool when I threw up in class on Valentine's Day. It was pink and had a popsicle on the front. I've seen pictures of it as of recent. It was pink AND purple.
21. I cannot pee in front of people. Nor can I pee when I think people can hear me. I always turn on the sink.
22. I find farting to be extremely funny. Yup. Always have, always will.
23. I love the way babies smell... their hair, their clothes, and especially their breath. There's nothing better than sticking your nose close to a babies mouth as they yawn. Yup - and it's even more exacerbated by the fact that I'm surrounded more by babies these days.
24. I used to hate Taco Bell when I was younger... now I secretly love it. Not a secret anymore... but I rarely eat it unless I'm in a car full of hungover girls.
25. I cannot live without Vaseline. It's what makes my lips they way they are. I keep a tub of it on my night stand. In addition to my night stand, I have a tub of Vaseline in my classroom and in my purse.
Alrighty then.... doesn't look like much has changed. Although I will on the record and say that a person's quirks are extremely hard to change.
Here we go. 25 Things and Changes?:
1. Only a handful of people know and call me by my Korean name. Just my family members call me by it these days.
2. I used to hate my height but now I love it. Still love it.
3. I love wearing really high heels... not only does it make my legs look amazing, but I can see over the crowds. Still wearing really high heels... and usually end up busting my ankles.
4. I was betrothed to Dr. N,.... So there was some more stuff that was a part of this that I got rid of because it was the kind of information that would hurt people and ruin relationships... And I don't want to bring up the past nor hurt anyone.
5. Now I am betrothed to his brother. And I'm also now betrothed to J and C. What's a girl to do?
6. I have tried on several occasions to donate blood, however, I always backout due to my phobia of needles. Still can't donate blood to the Red Cross... but I'm getting better each time with getting my blood drawn at doctor's appointments. Still makes me want to vomit though.
7. I have a phobia of spiders, too. Yup, still have this one. Add any sort of creepy insect to this one, too.
8. I get extremely fed up when my classmates yell out the wrong answers in class. I know the answers... I just don't ever speak up (see #9). I'm not in grad school anymore so this is a moot point. However, I get fed up when my students yell out wrong answers.
9. I have a fear of speaking in public. My face turns bright red and I start feeling faint. Yup, still have this fear. But I've actually done one story telling thing to help me get over it. Did it? Nope, not in the least.
10. Alcohol is my liquid courage. Does that make me an alcoholic? I'm not an alcoholic. I'm just more talkative, and more fluent in Spanish, with alcohol.
11. I often come off as being standoffish or bitchy... I'm not. I'm just shy. You have to peel away the layers. I get called standoffish a lot still. But I've learned a secret method from a friend that seems to be working.
12. I laugh a lot... at inappropriate things and inappropriate times. Always have, always will.
13. I miss my preschool babies everyday. I miss all my kids I've taught everyday... but I'm excited to see what they accomplish the older they get. That makes me proud.
14. I have a hard time sleeping at other people's houses or with someone else in my bed. I've learned to sleep with someone else in my bed. I hate sleeping at other people's houses.
15. Scary movies make me laugh. I have yet to find one that has really scared me. My brother says it's because I'm scientific by nature. Still looking for a truly scary movie. Anyone wanna go movie hunting with me?
16. My brother's nickname is Dank and my sister's nickname is Kat. I wish I had a cool nickname like that... you can't do much with Angela... and what you can do sounds really white trash. Still can't do anything cute with Angela without it sounding trashy. I now get called cute nicknames like Panda and Twinky.
17. I have a ritual at work before I can begin my day: eat cereal, drink cup of coffee, check my personal e-mail, check my work e-mail, check my smut online blogs. Nope. This was when I worked for the consulting firm. Since becoming a teacher my ritual has changed. Now it goes a little something like this: photocopy papers, get room ready for kids, check work email, make oatmeal and coffee, use the bathroom before the kids come in, deep breaths.
18. I believe that I have already met my soul mate... but unfortunately, I ruined it somehow. I don't think I knew who I was talking about there... just that I'd met him and blown it. I still believe this. Is there one soul mate out there for everyone? No. I'm still waiting to meet some more.
19. I am the epitome of "The Ugly Duckling." Yup. And proud of it.
20. I can remember the shirt I was wearing in preschool when I threw up in class on Valentine's Day. It was pink and had a popsicle on the front. I've seen pictures of it as of recent. It was pink AND purple.
21. I cannot pee in front of people. Nor can I pee when I think people can hear me. I always turn on the sink.
22. I find farting to be extremely funny. Yup. Always have, always will.
23. I love the way babies smell... their hair, their clothes, and especially their breath. There's nothing better than sticking your nose close to a babies mouth as they yawn. Yup - and it's even more exacerbated by the fact that I'm surrounded more by babies these days.
24. I used to hate Taco Bell when I was younger... now I secretly love it. Not a secret anymore... but I rarely eat it unless I'm in a car full of hungover girls.
25. I cannot live without Vaseline. It's what makes my lips they way they are. I keep a tub of it on my night stand. In addition to my night stand, I have a tub of Vaseline in my classroom and in my purse.
Alrighty then.... doesn't look like much has changed. Although I will on the record and say that a person's quirks are extremely hard to change.
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Massage
Today I treated myself to what I thought was going to be a relaxing massage. Relaxing? At times. But mostly it was painful. But pain and pleasure, like light and darkness, succeed each other. The pain was welcome. Now, this story wouldn't be an Angela story without some sort of snafu. Don't worry - it's nothing like "I accidentally picked a Happy Ending type place."
Upon entering the massage parlor I asked the front desk if I could use the bathroom. She pointed me in the direction and I went in with guns a blazin'.... and ran SMACK into a young asian man who was coming around the hallway. The lady showed me to my massage area and I got prepared. In walked my masseuse... Bob... the man I just run into. Of course. Wonderful. The next thing I notice was that the divider between the two rooms was open. They had opened the room up so my friend V and I could share a couple's massage. Apparently we looked like lesbians... I mean, just because I was wearing a Redskin's jersey and V was in workout clothes, does not make us muff divers.
Bob was ROUGH. But let me tell you he worked out all my kinks in my neck and shoulders - the place where most my tension lies. Having big breasts sores my neck and shoulders. Being a teacher and carrying all those bags puts strain on my neck and shoulders. Purses. They eff up a woman's shoulders. Needless to say I was very tight up there. And I couldn't relax. I would find myself pushing against him as he was trying to rub out my knots. And I had to force myself to relax because I could sense him getting annoyed.
He traveled down my body to the glutus maximus area. And when he first dug his elbow in my backside, I clenched and laughed out loud. It was strange. But I got over it fast because it became pretty pleasant after the intial shock of him massaging that area.
Then Bob traveled back up to my head. If there's one thing I love more than myself, it's when someone massages/rubs my head. But he didn't go for my head. He went for my no-no zone - the collarbone area. If you know me at all, you'll know that I FLIP the eff OUT when someone even comes NEAR my collarbone. I can't even watch someone touch their own collarbone without cringing. But I decided that maybe I should get over this horrible fear of mine and this might be the perfect time. So, while we worked on that area, I took some deep breaths, closed my eyes and went back to the time where I THINK this irrational fear developed.
Rewind back to 1998 or so... I was at my grandmother's house for one of our Korean celebrations. All the cousins were there. My cousin E was taking cheerleading classes and wanted to show me some moves. At one point, I was sitting on the floor and she got on my shoulders. I grabbed her hands and we started cheering. I guess I lost my balance because I felt myself falling over. And fall I did. With E still on my shoulders and her hands in my hand. I wasn't thinking and subsequently didn't let go of her hands and neither of us were able to catch ourselves with our hands.... E's shoulder caught the floor. And with my hand still holding hers, I hear and FELT the cracking of her collarbone. She was in SO much pain...
She wasn't able to cheer for a really long time after that. And it was all my fault. I felt TERRIBLE about it. From that day on no one, not even myself, was allowed to come close to my collarbone. Luckily, E went on to cheerlead in HS and at the U of A. So, all was good in the world.
Then the timer rang and my session was up. I thanked Bob and gave him an extra big tip for having to deal with my neurosis. Am I cured of my collarbone issue? No. While in the car, I tried grazing it with my hand and I nearly vomited on the dashboard. Will I be going back to see Bob? Probably not... next time I'll ask for the asian lady to get a relaxing massage.
Upon entering the massage parlor I asked the front desk if I could use the bathroom. She pointed me in the direction and I went in with guns a blazin'.... and ran SMACK into a young asian man who was coming around the hallway. The lady showed me to my massage area and I got prepared. In walked my masseuse... Bob... the man I just run into. Of course. Wonderful. The next thing I notice was that the divider between the two rooms was open. They had opened the room up so my friend V and I could share a couple's massage. Apparently we looked like lesbians... I mean, just because I was wearing a Redskin's jersey and V was in workout clothes, does not make us muff divers.
Bob was ROUGH. But let me tell you he worked out all my kinks in my neck and shoulders - the place where most my tension lies. Having big breasts sores my neck and shoulders. Being a teacher and carrying all those bags puts strain on my neck and shoulders. Purses. They eff up a woman's shoulders. Needless to say I was very tight up there. And I couldn't relax. I would find myself pushing against him as he was trying to rub out my knots. And I had to force myself to relax because I could sense him getting annoyed.
He traveled down my body to the glutus maximus area. And when he first dug his elbow in my backside, I clenched and laughed out loud. It was strange. But I got over it fast because it became pretty pleasant after the intial shock of him massaging that area.
Then Bob traveled back up to my head. If there's one thing I love more than myself, it's when someone massages/rubs my head. But he didn't go for my head. He went for my no-no zone - the collarbone area. If you know me at all, you'll know that I FLIP the eff OUT when someone even comes NEAR my collarbone. I can't even watch someone touch their own collarbone without cringing. But I decided that maybe I should get over this horrible fear of mine and this might be the perfect time. So, while we worked on that area, I took some deep breaths, closed my eyes and went back to the time where I THINK this irrational fear developed.
Rewind back to 1998 or so... I was at my grandmother's house for one of our Korean celebrations. All the cousins were there. My cousin E was taking cheerleading classes and wanted to show me some moves. At one point, I was sitting on the floor and she got on my shoulders. I grabbed her hands and we started cheering. I guess I lost my balance because I felt myself falling over. And fall I did. With E still on my shoulders and her hands in my hand. I wasn't thinking and subsequently didn't let go of her hands and neither of us were able to catch ourselves with our hands.... E's shoulder caught the floor. And with my hand still holding hers, I hear and FELT the cracking of her collarbone. She was in SO much pain...
She wasn't able to cheer for a really long time after that. And it was all my fault. I felt TERRIBLE about it. From that day on no one, not even myself, was allowed to come close to my collarbone. Luckily, E went on to cheerlead in HS and at the U of A. So, all was good in the world.
Then the timer rang and my session was up. I thanked Bob and gave him an extra big tip for having to deal with my neurosis. Am I cured of my collarbone issue? No. While in the car, I tried grazing it with my hand and I nearly vomited on the dashboard. Will I be going back to see Bob? Probably not... next time I'll ask for the asian lady to get a relaxing massage.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Lately....
Lately during my planning breaks at school, my friend/co-worker will come into my room to unwind, chat and/or complain (productive use of a planning hour, right?) Lately it's been about friendships and how things have changed with both of us. Our friends seem to have gone into the next phase of their lives without us. Long gone are the days when it was ladies night every weekend. Gone are the days when friends were able to meet up with you for shopping or dicking around at a moments notice. No more sleepovers for days. Now, it's husbands and babies and family obligations. And it's okay.
But when are we (read, I) gonna finally accept the fact that it's OK for people to grow out of a friendship. Is it even something we (I) can accept? The fact of the matter is, we all change. People change and grow. From priorities to hair color to mindsets. Friendships shouldn't be an exception. Friendships changed. Hell, even my own ideas on friendships have changed. I used to want a lot of friends. Now, I'm content with a handful of really close friends. But these friendships seem to also be changing. And I get it. Boyfriends. Careers. Health. Sometimes I actually feel sorry for them. Because I think a single person can evolve into becoming more diverse. It's one of the perks of being single. Am I jealous? Maybe. Would life be easier being one of those happy couples? Possibly.
But I digress.
One of my New Year's Resolutions was to rekindle some old friendships while still trying to maintain my current ones. But even thinking about that is exhausting. Will I stick with my goal and reach out to them? Probably. Do I miss them? Of course. With a handful of them, not spending every weekend together doesn't mean we aren't close. As a matter of fact, these friends would come to my aid if I ever needed them. These friends will 100% be invited to my wedding one day. On the flip side, some current friendships need a constant daily reminder about the friendship. Validation. And it's too much. Is it a real friendship? Who knows. But I do know that with everything that the world has dealt me, I'm not sure it's something I even want to deal with.
I don't really know where I was going with this.... end soapbox?
But when are we (read, I) gonna finally accept the fact that it's OK for people to grow out of a friendship. Is it even something we (I) can accept? The fact of the matter is, we all change. People change and grow. From priorities to hair color to mindsets. Friendships shouldn't be an exception. Friendships changed. Hell, even my own ideas on friendships have changed. I used to want a lot of friends. Now, I'm content with a handful of really close friends. But these friendships seem to also be changing. And I get it. Boyfriends. Careers. Health. Sometimes I actually feel sorry for them. Because I think a single person can evolve into becoming more diverse. It's one of the perks of being single. Am I jealous? Maybe. Would life be easier being one of those happy couples? Possibly.
But I digress.
One of my New Year's Resolutions was to rekindle some old friendships while still trying to maintain my current ones. But even thinking about that is exhausting. Will I stick with my goal and reach out to them? Probably. Do I miss them? Of course. With a handful of them, not spending every weekend together doesn't mean we aren't close. As a matter of fact, these friends would come to my aid if I ever needed them. These friends will 100% be invited to my wedding one day. On the flip side, some current friendships need a constant daily reminder about the friendship. Validation. And it's too much. Is it a real friendship? Who knows. But I do know that with everything that the world has dealt me, I'm not sure it's something I even want to deal with.
I don't really know where I was going with this.... end soapbox?
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Layers...
Speaking of reflecting... rewind back to 2001 when Shrek came out. The most memorable quote to come from that was the one about layers. Something along the lines of "ogres are like onions. onions have layers. ogres have layers." Back then, I thought this was a brilliant quote. Because, it's true. People have layers.... and you have to peel these layers back to get down to the real person. It's true. I'm especially a walking billboard for that. Often times people assume I'm stand-offish or bitchy because of the way I am upon first meeting. Not the best first impression. But the more layers you pull away, the more you get to know the real me. Kind. Funny. Smart. Friendly. I could go on for hours (ha).
I was reading Insurgent last night after my failed attempt at getting to bed at a normal hour and came across this quote. And it blew the Shrek quote out of the waters... I mean. I still firmly believe in what the quote it saying, but I think this one is more relevant to where we all are in our lives.
..."People, I have discovered, are layers and layers of secrets. You believe you know them, that you understand them, but their motives are always hidden from you, buried in their own hearts. You will never know them, but sometimes you decide to trust them."...
Sometimes it bites you in the ass, but then again sometimes it doesn't. And when that happens, the layers become irrelevant because they'll fall away naturally.
You're welcome.
I was reading Insurgent last night after my failed attempt at getting to bed at a normal hour and came across this quote. And it blew the Shrek quote out of the waters... I mean. I still firmly believe in what the quote it saying, but I think this one is more relevant to where we all are in our lives.
..."People, I have discovered, are layers and layers of secrets. You believe you know them, that you understand them, but their motives are always hidden from you, buried in their own hearts. You will never know them, but sometimes you decide to trust them."...
Sometimes it bites you in the ass, but then again sometimes it doesn't. And when that happens, the layers become irrelevant because they'll fall away naturally.
You're welcome.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
2013
Happy New Year everyone!!
As I was sitting under the dental hygienist the other day, I had time to reflect on 2012 (yes, my dental hygienist doesn't ask questions while her hands are in my mouth). 2012 was a year of discovery for me. I went through one of the hardest times. But because of that I was able to find myself and make myself better. I had some major success and some major fails. I made some really stupid decisions and made some really amazing decisions. I took the bull by the horns. I went outside my comfort zone and did things I normally wouldn't do. I laughed. I cried. I smiled. I blushed. Through it all I did it with pride and with dignity.
This upcoming year is going to be great. I can feel it. Now, I would be stupid to say that I won't be faced with adversity or challenges... because I know I will. But, this year I'm stronger and smarter than last year and am open to whatever life throws my way. I'm hopeful that I'll be thrown more positives than negatives, but I've been wrong in the past before. I've always made new year's resolutions. And, unfortunately, broken most, if not all, of them. I am going to make a STRONG attempt to make these last.
Here they are in random order:
As I was sitting under the dental hygienist the other day, I had time to reflect on 2012 (yes, my dental hygienist doesn't ask questions while her hands are in my mouth). 2012 was a year of discovery for me. I went through one of the hardest times. But because of that I was able to find myself and make myself better. I had some major success and some major fails. I made some really stupid decisions and made some really amazing decisions. I took the bull by the horns. I went outside my comfort zone and did things I normally wouldn't do. I laughed. I cried. I smiled. I blushed. Through it all I did it with pride and with dignity.
This upcoming year is going to be great. I can feel it. Now, I would be stupid to say that I won't be faced with adversity or challenges... because I know I will. But, this year I'm stronger and smarter than last year and am open to whatever life throws my way. I'm hopeful that I'll be thrown more positives than negatives, but I've been wrong in the past before. I've always made new year's resolutions. And, unfortunately, broken most, if not all, of them. I am going to make a STRONG attempt to make these last.
Here they are in random order:
- Implement and enforce a strict skin care regimen.
- Stop texting/calling while driving.
- Stop worrying about what others think of you.
- Do what makes me happy.
- Get my fat ass to the gym.
- Eat better.
- Stop shopping so much.
- Rekindle lost friendships and try to stay in touch with current friends.
- Spend more ME time.
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