Do Parents Ever Stop Embarrassing You?

I have the greatest parents ever.  Have we always gotten along?  For the most part, yes.  But there were those awkward years where they embarrassed me and made me mad.  The older I get, the more I appreciate them and actually enjoy spending time with them.  I took them for granted.  And that's something I regret every single day. 

Back then, I used to think they would embarrass me on purpose.  In retrospect, they weren't doing anything to embarrass me.  I was just self conscious, sensitive and a teenager.  They didn't do anything out of the ordinary.  I was just a little shit.   Times have changed and so has our relationship.  The older I get, the more we are able to joke with each other.  And now, I think they ENJOY embarassing me out in public and do it on purpose now... especially my dad.

As a mature 31 year old with bills and finacial woes, I've started to be frugal and cut things out that are not deemed necessary.  As such, I ask my dad if I could tag along with them to the Commissary to go grocery shopping.  The prices there are SO AMAZING!  I can't even begin to describe how great the prices are.  And any of you that grew up in a military family can vouche for me.  It's just that good. 

Before we went shopping, we decided to great dinner at the PX food court (I'm a severe impule shopper when I'm hungry).  As we were walking out of the PX, a very nice gentleman in his uniform held the door open for my mom and I.  As I was walking through the door, my sandal got stuck on the carpet and I trip... and it was a big trip.  As I recovered, I turned around and pointed to the carpet and stated "I just tripped."

When I said that, I noticed that my dad was laughing hysterically.  And to make matters worse, outside of the door that I had just tripped was a group of very attractive military men in their uniforms.  And if I couldn't get any more red in the face, my dad loudly said "Gosh!  I can't take you anywhere nice.  You're so embarrassing."  And my mom just laughed and chimed in "Yeah, Angela." 

O. M. G.  I picked up the pace and high-tailed it out of that area. 

As soon as I got into the Commissary, I had to go to the bathroom (just pee).  So I went.  Quickly.  And as I was walking out, my dad loudly (again) said "Gosh!  What were you doing in there?  You took so long." 

O. M. G.  I picked up the pace and high-tailed it out of that area.

After going through the Commissary with my dad and trying hard to show the hot military men that I was with my dad, not my husband, we went to the registers.  We were the next ones in line to go to a register.  My dad noticed that one of the lines didn't have so long of a line and asked me to go check out if anyone was there.  I noticed that it had a handicapped sign above the register.  I said, "Dad, it's a handicap register"  to which he replied "well, you're with us so it's okay." 

Oh no he di'int!!  As we got to the register that was NOT the handicapped register, my dad kindly took out his check book and paid for my groceries.

Thanks, Dad.  Even if you did embarrass me, you didn't have to pay for my groceries.  What a guy! 

Dexter

For some unknown reason, I stopped watching Dexter after the 2nd season.  Big mistake - I never realized what I was missing.  Trinity.  DDK.  Lumen.  I just recently watched the first episode of the 8th season (said to be the last) and I was hooked.  So much in fact that I decided to go back and watch the entire series... from start to finish.

I've gone through 6 season so far... and it's the only thing I can think about.  So much, in fact, that the other night I went out to a wine bar for a co-worker's brother's birthday and was dressed like I had stepped off the plane from Miami...

• white shorts
• white button down
• brown belt
• olive wedges
• wooden bangles
• hair in a high poof ponytail
• sunkissed make up

I enjoyed it.  And it was definitely nice to step away from my usual black attire.  Sorry, no pictures.  But the wine was tasty.  And the company was great. 

I'm not really sure what this post is really about.  Carry on. 

Foot in Mouth Disease

It's not secret that I love going to the dentist.  Aside from the fact that I have a very handsome older dentist who I've been going to for two decades now (he has been nicknamed Dr. Silver Fox, or Dr. SF for short), I love going because a)  I love my teeth and b) I love being complimented by each new dental hygenist about my perfectly straight my non-braces teeth are.  I just love it.

I had a dentist appointment on Wednesday and I had a new dental hygenist, C.  She was super cute - petite, high voice, perfect ponytail and a freckled Chinese face.  We hit it off immediately because of mutual freckled-faceness.  Now, she was just like every other dental hygenist.  She asked me questions while she was working in my mouth.  So it was hard to answer.  But we made pretty good conversation during our breaks. 

She asked me where I lived.  And I told her Arlington - only because most people who live in Herndon have no clue where Shirlington is. 

C:  Oh!  I love Arlington.  I don't get to go out there much but my husband works there and he's always bringing home delicious baked goods.  Have you ever heard of BakeShop?

Me:  Yes!!  They have the best homemade oatmeal cream pie cookies!  It's kinda of hidden on a side street but it definitely has a good following.  I'm sure Justin's (the owner) good looks also help out business.

C was about to say something but I accidentally interrupted her to tell her a story.

Me:  My friend M and I thought Justin was so hot.  We met him the first time when he was working at Grounded selling his pastries there.  And we would go back just to see him, he was so cute.  I mean, the cookies and cupcakes were delicious, too.  But he was just so friendly and cute.  When we found out he was opening the BakeShop, we made sure to visit him there, too.  This one time, we went to get some cupcakes but we didn't see him there so we didn't buy any.  We were kinda obsessed. 

C:  Well, Justin and his business partner, Drew, are very good friends of mine.  I will be sure to tell him he has some fans.  And yes, him being so cute does help his business.  I would set you up with him because I think you are so cute, but he just got a new girlfriend. 

Me:  ::blushingandinternallyshoutingDAMN::  Oh man.  I'm so embarrassed.  Please don't tell him that. 

Just then, Dr. SF showed up.  Saved!  I walked out of there with some sparkly clean teeth, some new dental hyigene tools, a red face and my foot in my mouth.

Growing Up....

You know you're 31 and growing up at Dewey Beach when....

• you'd rather sit on the couch, drink wine and chat with some older ladies than go grab a margarita at the bayside Mexican restaraunt.
• you walk the 2.5 miles to Rehoboth Beach from Dewey to earn that beer at dinner.
• you'd rather stay in and watch movies, grill out and chat than go surround yourself with douchebags and cougars at the Rusty Rudder.
• you seriously contemplate getting the salad from Nick's instead of their cheesesteak.
• you'd rather go outlet shopping when it starts raining rather than going drinking at the nearest bar.
• you leave the beach to go lay out on the rooftop deck so you can nap but not get sandy.
• you wear SPF 30+ instead of your usual SPF 4 tanning oil because you've started caring about wrinkles and harmful rays.
• you wake up early to get breakfast at Sharkey's before the hungover crowd comes and crowds around the free coffee.
• you bring workout clothes to go running, swim in the pool or walk the dog istead of sleeping in. 
• you bring your laptop to get work (i.e, report cards) done instead of the usual afternoon too-many-bloody-marys-and-need-to-rest-to-be-refreshed-to-drink-later-tonight nap time.
• you talk about weddings and baby names with everyone in the house.

Addiction

I have an addictive personality...  that should come as no surprise to anyone reading this.  Let's me go ahead and say this... I believe we ALL feel the concern about becoming addictive - obsessions with weight, smoking, drinking too much, spending too much money, gambling, sex or work.  These are the things I be come addicted too (at least I don't think I do). 

Here are things I'm addicted to as of recent (in no particular order):

• cereal - for breakfast, lunch, dinner, 4th meal, snack
• running outdoors - getting as much as I can now before the damn cicadas come
• horrible television shows - any of the Real Housewives,
• sour candies - hell no, chocolate
• shoes
• skinny jeans - in all different colors and prints
• Febreze scent around the apartment
• typing on my laptop with my fake long nails
• counting down the days until school is officially over - 22 days today
• Oats a la Layla - oatmeal with strawberries and a splash of milk
• saying/screaming "It's the SICKEST" when asked how things are/taste/etc

That's all I got.

Rx

Been feeling sick for the past week.  Finally went to Urget care (easier than setting up an appointment and taking time off of work).  The doctor's name was Dr. Mann.  Short, older, adorable Indian doctor. 

My past medical history showed that I've had bronchitis and walking pneumonia in the past.  AND that I work with snot nosed children every day.  And, I know my body.  I knew my smoker's cough meant bronchitis.  I knew I would be in for some good medicine.  He did the full workup on me... checking out my orifices and listening to my breathing.... checking for sinus pressure and looking at my temperature...  and I was correct.

I had a fever on top of bronchitis.... again.  Two years in a row.  Same time as last.  However, this time I was prescribed different drugs - he prescribed me with the following concoction:

• Zythromiacin
• Steroids
• Cough Syrup with Codeine (my favorite)

Thank you sir, it sounds lovely.  I was told to come back in a week for a follow-up.  I didn't even realize they did those things there.  But, whatever.

So as we're discussing teaching and stuff, he said something to me that caught me off guard.

...."you aren't married yet?  You need to get married so you can have beautiful babies.  We need more beautiful babies and you will definitely make them"... 

Thanks?  I agree with you.  I will make beautiful babies... but finding a man in NoVa to do that with is easier said than done.  Then I got to thinking. 

Dr. Mann, perhaps after our follow-up on Friday, you can prescribe me with some phone numbers of beautiful, available men since you seem to have such good taste in beauty? 

Until then... I'll be in bed sippin' on some sizzrup and lovin' every codiene filled minute of it. 

Say Whaaaaaaaaaaat?

Oh man!

I'm neglecful. 

And forgetful.

And sorry. 

Since the last post, I have:

• trained, run and killed the Pike's Peek 10K
• went to a FIJI formal with a dear friend of mine
• at said formal, realized that I can no longer keep up with my younger counterparts
• and also that drinks in college towns are super cheap and affordable
• celebrated the "end of school year" being close by starting the countdown (35 days today)
• kicked ass in skeeball
• bought and neglected "Life of Pi" (currently sitting on my night stand)
• went to Rumors and acted like I was 21 years old again
• donated a ton of clothes and shoes
• spent a grand on my car (so sad)
• finally got a handle on my students' learning
• youtubed how to play the guitar (haven't picked my guitar up yet)
• started and finished Big Brother Australia 2010 (72ish episodes) and loved every minute of it
• started putting money away for a trip to Australia in the near future
• invited myself to visit a friend who hasn't even moved to San Diego yet
• invited myself to my BFFs Dewey beach house for pretty much the entire summer
• applied for summer school (fingers crossed I get it)
• ran the WO&D trail that's literally right across the road from my apartment
• reminisced about JMU while driving down Port Republic
• drank my face off

I promise to do my best to keep up with this damn blog... as the weather gets warmer it's getting harder (that's what she said). 

Lub

I met this fella on Saturday.  It was love at first sight for both of us.  I mean, I can't even begin to describe how adorable he is.  And look at his chubby hands/fingers.  Now picture them trying to sign some words in sign language.  I.CAN'T.EVEN!!!

E, seen passed out on my chesticles is 50% black, 50% white/ginger... 100% adorable. 

I want my future baby to look like him.... let's make this happen people!

What Did I Just Do?

I just signed up for my first 10K...  it's in one and half weeks.  I've been training for it for the past 6 weeks.  Here is what I've learned:

• I can do it.
• running is not as hard to train for as I thought.
• neon running shoes will be my next purchase.
• running on the W&OD trail is A LOT easier than a treadmill.
• time goes faster running outdoors with a friend.
• while I hate techno, it makes the run better.
• watching "White Chicks" while running makes me run faster.
• stretching makes a world of a difference.

Here is what I have noticed:

• I sweat now in places that I've never sweat before.
• I cut 15 minutes off my 5K time (from the Color Run).
• I'm mentally stronger than I once thought I was.
• I miss running on days that I not scheduled to run.
• my ass looks better in my boy shorts.
• I'm always hungry now.

So.... to summarize.  I've been training for a 10K in which I feel I'm not prepared.  I have a week and a half to go.  What was I thinking?

More SBux Drama...

I've blog before about my creepy old guy at Panera and how he happened to show up at SBux one time and remember me.  Well, I ended up moving to A-ton and stopped going to that SBux altgother.  Gone were the days of H, my sexy barista, upgrading me for free.  Gone were the days of H flirting with me and giving me a huge ego boost.  Gone were the days when I felt like a rockstar. 

.... or so I thought.

The route to school happens to include a new SBux.  And one fateful day I walked in only to find H, the sexy barista, behind the counter.  Both of us shocked, and slighly worried on my part that he thought I was stalking him, we managed to discuss how we both ended up at that SBux.  He was promoted to that store manager and I moved and worked around the corner.  So, it wasn't so weird.

This was at the beginning of the school year.  From that day on I got:

• upgrades to ventis on anything I ordered
• extra shots if I ordered a latte
• free pastries if he was behind the counter
• specialty drinks for $0.50 - even if I order more than one.  The total always comes to $0.53

It's been amazing. 

Recently the "hellos" have turned into hugs.  And passing me his business card.  And then, one morning after I returned from Spring Break, he actually came from behind the counter, hugged me and asked me a series of questions.

• Where have you been?
• Do you have a boyfriend?
• Why haven't you come to see me at Nordstroms?
• Would you like to go see a movie with me?  I would like to take you out?
• What are you doing Friday?  (told him Fridays are hard after a week of teaching)
• What about Saturday?  (told him I had a baby shower)
• Sunday night?  (told him I had weekly family dinners)

So then he told me to let him know when I was available.  I said okay, grabbed my coffee and then left.

Problem.
What do I do?  I hate turning people down.  But I'm not interested... I'm okay with losing my freebies but I don't want to embarrass him.  Or me.  Ugh...  What's a girl to do?

Everybody Do....

I was in my car getting ready to walk into the gym. 

I was wearing red slacks. 

My Camelbak bottle was running low on water. 

I had an extra bottle of water sitting in the cup holder.

I decided to pour the water bottle into the Camelbak.

And so I did the most logical thing and put the Camelbak between my legs. 

I then opened the top of the water bottle and the Camelbak bottle. 

And I poured the water from the small bottle into the Camelbak.

And then I missed the opening towards the end of the pour.

Water went everywhere.

Let me remind you that the Camelbak was between my legs. 

I walked into the gym looking like I had peed my pants. Okay, not fully peed... maybe just a little squirt like when you sneeze or laugh too hard. 

And wouldn't you know it, hottie gym homeboy (who I'm digging) at the moment was standing right when I walked in.  

Again, this is my life.  Take it or leave it.

Without you boy, my life is incomplete....

I've never believed in love at first sight.  Until tonight....

THE most beautiful guy was at Mad Rose to watch Sisqo.  And he was beautiful.  And tall.  And beefy.  And light skinned.  He looked like a professional athlete.  And we made eyes.  And a smile.

And thats when the bouncers approached him escorted him out for being under aged.  Hahah.

This is my life.

I mean, seriously?

I asked my mom to take me to Costco so that I could buy myself a vaccuum... a big girl purchase to say the least.  She obliged.  However, the only time she was available with Sunday afternoon.  And if you know anything about Sunday afternoons, you know it's the busiest grocery shopping day of the week.  And it's even worse at a bulk store such as Costco.  The deals are worth it so we went anyways. 

Things were going fine.  There were lots of people.  Lots of children.  Lots of carts.  Oh, I almost forgot to tell you that Sunday's at Costco are what people would call a "buffet."  At the end of each aisle, and even throughout the store, there are people giving away free samples.  We happened to be walking down on of the aisles looking for some cheese.  At the end of this aisle happened to be a huge mass of people.  The closer we got to the end of the aisle I noticed what they were serving... potstickers.  I mean, people love potstickers.  This was evident. 

Completely overwhelmed, I looked back to see if we could turn around but there were tons of people with carts coming up the aisle.  The only way out was through the crowd.  I "excused" my way through... and accidentally ran over a teenager's feet with my cart.  Already completely embarrassed (both of us, I'm sure) I went to apologize.  I am a pretty hands on person, so my apology intended to include a hand to the shoulder with an "I'm SO sorry."  What actually happened was much worse.  As my hand went to touch her shoulder, she must have moved because I realized around the word "so" that my hand has actually grabbed her boob.  Oh dear me.

I hightailed it out of the aisle with my mom struggling to keep up.  She finally caught up at the coffee aisle.  And I told her what happened and she couldn't stop laughing. 

So, the lesson to be learned.  Bulk grocery stores, such as Costco, are good for discount items, $1.50 foot long hot dogs, free food and a good groping.

That is all. 

Running's a pain in the ass... but it sure gives me a nice one!

It's no surprise that I've been doing a lot of reflecting and growing the past year or so.  I've realized something that doesn't bode well with me.  For most of my life, I dedicated my life to others.  I am a people-pleaser.  I am, to a fault, too nice.  I let people take advantage of me.  I put other's needs before my own.  Don't get me wrong, I love helping people.  I find joy in making other's happy.  But I've decided that I'm no longer going to put my happiness or my needs in front of others.

I've been doing a lot of me.  Spending time alone.  Removing myself from toxic situations.  Removing the drama from my life.  Spending more time with the people who lift me up.  I've been spending more time on making myself a better person and spending time working on my soul.  What better way to make myself better than to concur something that I've always hated.

There was only one thing that I hated more than anything.  Running.  I hate running.  I despise it.  I might be because I'm terrible at it.  Or maybe I hate it because EVERYONE is doing it.  Everywhere I turn... everyone I talk to is a runner.  "I love running marathons."  Really?  Do you really?  I judged these people.  I figured "running sucks, so you must suck, too"  Boy was I wrong. 

Back in college I used to go to the track with my three roommates and exercise.  Several times a week, we would just run around the track.  I did it becasue they did it and I loved spending time with it.  And I wasn't so bad.  I wanted to be "not so bad" at it again.  And who better to help me become a better runner than my best friend?  She is an avid runner and coaches Girls on the Run.  Oh, yeah!  And her husband is an avid runner, too, who coaches track and field at a local high school and qualified for the Israel Olympics.  The perfect match.

They set me up with a running schedule.  I was scared that I was going to jump right into it.  But, like a good teacher, they are scaffolding and adding on.  A strong foundation is what makes anything successful.  And that's what they have set me up with.  And it's been amazing.  I'm running more than I ever thought I could.  My stamina is improving everyday.  I am getting faster.  I'm pushing myself harder than I've everAnd I am starting to enjoy it.  I look forward to running everyday.  And it's here that makes me know that I've actually concured something that I've always hated.  And it makes me proud.

My goal at the end of the 9 weeks is to run a 10K.  Will I ever run a full marathon?  Probably not.  But it's not impossible (something that I've always thought).  And my attempt at being "not so bad" has been far surpassed.  I'm actually "decent."  And I can live with that. 

—

It'sa Me.... Mario!

The last time it was snowing out I had  "me" day and blogged things about me.  Today was a snow day (got out of school) and while my roommate was home, it was still a me day.  I went to lunch with a friend, went to the gym and ran my big little heart out and then cooked a nice dinner for myself.  So, tonight, as I was watching up on my DVRed reality shows, I decided to add to the list that I created during my me day.  

Mario Kart is forever be one of my favorite video games.  I am amazing at it, too.

I prefer a boxed cake mix.  And while I'm obsessed with anything chocolate, my favorite cupcake is a yellow cake with chocolate frosting.

I drink an obscene amount of water per day.  It's not normal. 

And on that note, I pee a lot. 

 

 

I'm on a skeeball league and it's one of the most fun things I've done in a really long time.  Don't hate/judge me.

I'm terrible at standardized tests.  My SAT scores are embarrasing. 

 

I take oral hygiene VERY serious.

 

My favorite color is black.  No, I'm not goth.



I don't think all babies are cute.  I will be the first one to tell you about an ugly baby.

My students humble me everyday.

I am an awkward person.  Especially around guys I'm interested in.  Help me.

 

One of my favorite vacations in the United States was to The Wizarding World of Harry Potter.  I miss is all the time. 

 

Speaking of vacations, my dream destination would be Greece, Santorini in particular. 

 

If I ever get proposed to, I want it to be intimate.  Just the two of us.  And a photographer to capture the moment.

 



I am the happiest I've been in a really really long time.  I have my amazing friends and even more amazing family to thank for that.

 

Did Ya Miss Me?

Things I suck at as of recent:

• saying "hi" to guys I find attractive
• planning for my students before the morning of
• keeping in touch with friends
• grocery shopping
• making my bed
• not drinking on schoo nights
• remembering to "not hate"
• blogging
• saving money
• remembering not to eat meat on Fridays during Lent
• FFing through the DVR and trying to get it exactly when the show gets back on
• flossing

Things that I'm great at as of recent:

• standing up for myself.
• running (with the help of my running schedule, thanks M!)
• dancing in the car
• singing in the car
• loving on my students
• relationship advice to co-workers
• reading
• wave-crimping my hair in under 7 minutes
• making fun of horrible commercials
• brunching with friends
• handling my roommate and her crazy ways
• being single and loving it
• screaming "EW" at anything and everything a la Channing Tatum on SNL

I got nothing else... help me.

What happens at Ozios.....

Okay, so I'm too old for bar crawls.  I've done many.  I don't remember many.  My body just can't handle them like I used to be able to.  But when my dear friend, J, wanted to do the Cupids Bar Crawl, I couldn't say no.  She has been an awesome friend to me and to many.  So, I donned some skanky yet classy attire and went into DC with the rest of the gang.

The day started off quiet enough... big old red goblet full of liquor.  Here are some of the girls before the debauchery happened.

Heeeey, classy ladies. 

We moved from Irish Whiskey, to Mighty Pint, to Sign of the Whale and then to the rooftop at Ozio.  This is where the shit started hitting the fan.... in a good way, of course.  I ran into some old college friends who were sitting at a table.  And we caught up.  We got out share of cheap ass drinks.  We danced our asses off.  Said college friend got hookah and it looked amazing... and it reminded me of the Cheshire Cat from Alice and Wonderland - one of my favorite books/movies.  So when birthday girl asked if we wanted some, I was the first one to say "Yes!." 



We got strawberry and damn was it delicious.  I don't remember hookah ever tasting that good. 

Here's the birthday girl getting the first suck.

Ahh, the sweet release.

Yes, I promise that's only hookah. 

Here's K to join in on the smoking fun.  You know I'm pwned when I throw deuces and my mouth is open for pictures.

Hey!  Where'd K go?

 At this point, everyone had had some hits of the hookah.  But J and I were still going strong.  Kat left us, and probably for the best.  Because the next thing I knew, J and I went from taking the above picture to the below picture.  And that's when ALL the dudes took out their phones to snap these.

camera 1

camera 2

 

 

So, that's use shoot gunning?  What's that called?  I don't even know.  Lesbihonest, it was a great idea.  So great in fact that the table of nerdy white dudes next to us couldn't stand up for a while.  And the server brought over a free tablet (?) of hookah. 

 

 

After we are all done with hookah and drinks, we stopped into a few more bars and then decided it was time to head home.  Here is my documentation of the cab ride home...  there are 5 girls shoved in the back of the cab.

 

mandatory selfie... complete with duck lips.  Channing Tatum EW! 

Where did I get the glasses from?

 

 

 

 

 

 

I don't really know how to end this post.  But I had a great time, minus the fact that we were missing a few people (who we eventually found).  The birthday girl was happy.  We were happy.  It was a happy night.  I ended the night saying, like I always say, "I'm never drinking again!"  Well my friends, that's a lie.  The Clarendon Shamrock Bar Crawl is right around the corner and I expect to see you all there... and drinking beside me.  



...help...

Things I need at the moment:

• summer vacation
• sleep
• a positive attitude about my current job
• eyes in the back of my head
• new workout shoes
• someone to rub my back until I fall asleep
• more blog topics (obvi)
• time for my own life
• a jucier butt
• a bigger closet
• more hope
• more patience
• more faith
• less drama
• less vices
• more sex
• more friend time
• more positive things to come for my friends

Welcome to My World....

A while back I blogged about a girl's night out where we thought it would be funny to nose people.  (And, by golly, it sure was!).  I haven't thought much about that fateful night until last night...  and in an "Angela" sort of way. 

Last night I was at SK's for skeeball with some fabulous ladies... I know what you're thinking. Out on a Tuesday night, drinking til the wee hours of the morning? Who is this girl and what did she do with Angela?   Well, I gotta tell you something.  Tuesday night skeeball with my ladies far surpasses a night out on the weekends.  It's that fun...

After a few pitchers of Blue Moon, and one failed skeeball match to a team who had NEVER won a game, our team was up to play in the second to last match of the evening.  As I was at the table getting the score card for my team, I overheard a young nerdy fella talking to J, the league director, about the ETA for the last game of the night.  Ppshh I thought to myself.  Homeboy needs to get home, put in his retainer and get 8 hours of sleep.  And, at the moment I was making fun of nerdy white guy in my mind, he looked over to me and yelled "Hey!  I know you!" 

My heart started pounding.  Oh no!  Where did I know him from?  He didn't look familiar.  Did I go to high school with him?  No.  Did I hook up with him?  God I hoped not!  Did I know his family?  I didn't think so.  As I was about to exhaust my options as to how I knew him, he said:

...."you nosed my friend at CG a while back!"... 

Ha!  I literally spit Blue Moon in his face and started laughing out loud.  At point my sister, who was standing next to me witnessing this whole conversation, and who was with me at CG that night, busted out laughing and walked away for me to take the bullet.  Thanks, sis! 

He went on to say that they stuck around a while longer let us nose them because we were a "cute group of girls."  When our match started, I was standing there scoring our team when I overheard him talking to his group about that night and what we had done.  After overhearing the conversation he was having next me, I started to becoming embarrassed... that is until I heard the team saying "damn, those girls are so fucking hot." 

And with that comment, all was right in the world again.

Side note:  we blew our opponents out of the water... even if we had to skeeball as T-Rexs (hands inside our shirts).  As we were strutting our stuff through the crowd, high-fiving all the awe-struck teams, I walked passed nerdy boy whose hand was raised in a high-five position.  And if you know anything about me, you'll know exactly what I did next.  I went in for the fake high-five and then I  nosed the fuck out of him instead. 

Not even this could ruin my Friday afternoon.

Scenes from a Friday afternoon while waiting for the buses to be called.

::sitting at the kidney table with the 7 girls in the class::
D:  Ms. K., do you have a baby?
Me:  No.
::simultaneous saddened awwwwws::
A: Do you have a husband?
Me:  No.
::simultaneous saddened awwwws, again::
D:  Do you have friends?
Me:  Yes.
D:  Yea, everyone should have friends.
M:  ::pattingmeonthe back::  Are you lonely?
Me:  .....
::GT-02 gets called::
Me:  Get out of my classroom!!

I was literally saved by the bell.

But that's a great questions, little 8 year old.  Am I lonely?  Let's think about this one.  Technically I am currently alone.  But am I lonely?  No, I am not, by any means, lonely.  I have the best friends, the best family and the air in my lungs.  I am the happiest I have been in a really long time.

Ups and Downs of Teaching

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.

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. ]

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. 

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

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:

• tall
• funny
• kind
• brown eyed
• smart
• creative

And then I let the flood gates open by inviting them to help describe me.  Now, this is the part where I tell you how fun it is to be a teacher - teaching is the biggest ego boost.  Here are the words they added:

• beautiful
• silly
• super smart
• hot (cringe worthy)
• nice
• bestest (I'll take it)
• huggable
• loving
• respectful
• responsible
• young

And then, when I was all warm with love from my students, one of them yelled out:
..."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::

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:

• thread - long life
• money or rice - wealth
• books - successful scholar
• pen - wisdom and writer
• stethoscope - doctor
• balls - athlete
• knife - good cook

Last week, A told me about her 1st birthday and what she grabbed.  Her mom had put the traditional items - thread, money, rice, books, toys, pens- and then threw in some clothes. If you know A, you know that she is a diva.  She loves make up and fashion, is a former Redskin's cheerleader and was Ms. Popular in high school.   What do you think she grabbed?  The clothes, right?  Wrong.  She went for the pen; that meant wisdom and writer.  Would you like to know what A does for a living?  She's a journalist and does live segments for Fox 5.  Her choice was right on. 

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.

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.  

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....

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:

• 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.

Somehow I managed to get my health insurance to cover these removals as "precautionary measure" for skin cancer.  I went through a plastic surgeon for this as my mom would NOT allow my face to be scarred.  However, since I am Asian, I had a higher chance of keloiding... and keloiding I did.  But only under the lip.  It's a good thing that my bottom lip is succulent because it hides the scar.  The other two you can barely see unless you are upclose... and even then you get distracted by my super cute freckles. 

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.

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.

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.