Wednesday, February 28, 2007
( 6:08 PM ) teahouse
Last night during tae kwon do class, there were about 20 people. It was a crowded class.
As in most martial arts classes, we line up according to rank. The black belts (most senior) stand in front, and the second-to-highest belts stand behind them, and so on. So the more junior you are, the farther back you are.
There were two of us with the same color belt - me, and another guy who was REALLY cute. I'd never seen him before, but gosh, he was cute. Very dreamy. He looked like he was about my age.
So the rule is that when 2 people have the same belt color, whoever has had the belt for longer stands ahead (obviously that makes sense since that person has been at that rank for longer, and is thus more experienced).
Since I'd just gotten my belt, I figured he would be more senior.
But he smiled and gestured for me to stand in front of him, saying, "Oh, no, you should go ahead. You're more senior."
"No, no," I insisted. "I just got my belt last week, so I'm sure you've had your belt longer. So you're definitely ahead of me!"
He looked confused for a moment, and then said, earnestly and LOUDLY, "But if we're the same rank, the older person should be in front!"
Yeah, he wasn't THAT cute.
Stupid college kid. #
Monday, February 26, 2007
( 7:24 AM ) teahouse
Be Careful What You Wish For
All weekend, I really wanted to exercise.
On Friday night after work, I was planning on going to tae kwon do class.
But then I got stuck in Midtown, couldn't catch a cab, and by the time I caught one, class was halfway over. So I went home, frustrated.
Saturday morning, I was planning on running in Central Park.
But I was waiting at home for something to be delivered, and I couldn't leave until it arrived. It came an hour late, so I missed my window of opportunity.
Sunday morning, the Boy and I tried to go running in his gym.
But when we arrived, the gym was inexplicably crowded; every single treadmill was taken. There was a line of people waiting for the machines to free up.
We waited for 15 minutes, and then left, frustrated and annoyed.
As I write this, it's Monday morning. And it looks like I'm finally going to get my wish for a good workout.
I'm going to go outside with a shovel and dig my car out of several inches of snow that fell overnight! #
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
( 10:30 PM ) teahouse
The season of Lent started today.
For Catholics like me, Lent is a time of penance, prayer and reflection.
Traditionally, we give something up for Lent. It should be something that means a lot to us, that's a hardship to deny ourselves.
And on that subject, I have a major announcement to make.
Remember: You read it here first. And you guys are going to hold me to this promise.
This year, THB is giving up...
THE BACON for Lent.
Anyone who's read my blog for a while knows that I LOVE THE BACON.
Yes, this will be one of the hardest things I've ever done. #
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
( 7:00 AM ) teahouse
What's In a Name?
Over the weekend, I went to a piano recital with some friends.
The performer was someone I knew only slightly. It was a nice little party, only a couple of dozen audience members in a private recital hall.
There was wine and cheese afterwards. I mingled in the crowd and met some people.
Two of the people were a couple in their late 60s.
They introduced themselves to me. I said, "Nice to meet you, Mary and John. I'm [insert THB's real name here]."
So I guess my first name is a slightly old-fashioned name. It's definitely not unusual, but I've been told before that it is somewhat unexpected given my race/ethnicity and religion.
Anyway, when I said my name, John exclaimed, "[insert THB's real name here]??? You don't look like a [insert THB's real name here]!! To me, you look like your name should be Michiko. Or Akiko!! Or Sariko!! Hahahahhaha!!"
With that, the two of them started laughing loudly and hitting each other on the back to congratulate John on how clever he was.
It was a very awkward moment.
I considered saying something like, "Yes, me love you long time!!" but I decided that it would be inappropriate.
So I just smiled, drank some more wine and got the hell out of there.
P.S.: To those readers who do know my first name, Shhh!! Please don't compromise my anonymity here.... #
Saturday, February 17, 2007
( 10:35 AM ) teahouse
The end of this past week was just brutal at work. I had to be at work before 8 a.m. for early meetings 2 days in a row. And I didn't get home until super-late either Thursday or Friday nights.
But now I'm at home, and excited about the 3-day weekend for the federal holiday.
Last night I caught up on sleep. Right now I'm drinking coffee, stretching and watching bad tv on my couch.
If I were a guy, I'd totally be scratching my balls now.
But since I have no balls, will grabbing and stroking my own breasts do?
I'll try it out and get back to you on whether it works.
In the meantime, you'll just have to imagine it. #
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
( 1:03 PM ) teahouse
Happy St. Valentine's Day!!
What a wonderful Valentine's Day it's been so far.
Stuck at home because of icy roads and weather conditions, trying to work from home without any of my documents..I tried to go outside today but was nearly blinded by flying ice, and wiped out a couple of times. Fell flat on my ass.
The Boy is coming over later, and we're making dinner together. I have a strong abhorrence for going out to eat on Valentine's Day. It seems so cliched to me! And it sucks to be surrounded by cheesy couples.
One year I went with my then-date to Popeye's for fried chicken. Most years I just cook at home.
But tonight I will be participating in Neil's Valentine's Day Emergency Hotline. I'll be on from 7:30 to 9 p.m. EST. Doing a nice deed to spread the love.
I never understood the backlash against Valentine's Day. I never minded it. I use it to celebrate ALL loved ones - friends, family, neighbors.
So I hope everyone is having a lovely day with the people who matter most. Smile at a stranger today. You could make their day. Buy yourself lots of chocolate and eat it, just because.
Or if you don't feel like it, buy a huge bottle of booze and drink it all by yourself, just because you can. #
Monday, February 12, 2007
( 7:35 AM ) teahouse
Looking at the Past
I spent this weekend going through boxes of my parents' stuff that I was hauling out of storage. Ever since they moved to Asia last year, their stuff has been in a storage facility. I'm trying to take it all out and store it in my apartment.
There were lots of old photos of my mom and dad from their wedding, and when they were newlyweds and traveled all over Asia, etc.
In other words, before they had me and my Sister and came to the United States to struggle as immigrants and turned into boring adults.
I was at the Boy's place, and one of his neighbors came over to hang out with us.
"Wow, your mom was hot!" agreed the Boy and his friend, flipping through some of the albums.
In a couple of the photos, my mom is wearing this dress, which I remember seeing when I was a kid. It hung in her closet, and I tried to put it on a couple of times.
Once, when I was 14, I put it on, and after forcing the zipper up, I walked around not breathing for a few minutes before the zipper split open, ripping the dress.
At the time, I was upset for ruining her dress. But she just laughed.
If I'd looked as good in it as she had, I don't think I would have been so patient and forgiving with my teenage daughter.
But maybe when you have kids, you are willing to overlook the crazy things they do? And you accept that your life changes when they arrive?
I miss my parents. #
Friday, February 09, 2007
( 7:01 AM ) teahouse
The Wrong Kind of People
So thanks to everyone for your patience over the past few days. I promise I'm finally done posting about my crotch injury.
I promise I won't even post photos of the bruise! I know you're all relieved, hahaha.
Now onto other stories.
So I went to the Metropolitan Opera one night this week.
While in the theater, I found myself surrounded by beautiful people dressed in beautiful clothes. The ladies wore sumptuous fur coats; the men wore suits.
I looked down at my own shabby clothes, and had a realization.
The reason I was dressed so badly was because...
..I live in the same neighborhood as the opera house. Ergo, I can't afford to dress well because ALL of my earnings go to paying my outrageous mortgage and maintenance.
It's the price I pay to live in the "right" neighborhood.
The rich and well-dressed people - the ones who enjoyed champagne and caviar during the intermission while I chomped on an illegally-smuggled-in beef roll from Koreatown - all drove in from the suburbs.
Life ain't fair. #
Thursday, February 08, 2007
( 6:00 AM ) teahouse
Feeling the Love
Thanks for the bloggy love, everyone. I'm really feeling it.
Things are a bit better now. I'm still walking around like a cowboy in the Wild West, and I won't be doing any horseback or bicycle riding anytime soon.
But I'm mostly healed up from my (embarrassing) injuries.
It's actually pretty funny the number of people (girls and guys) who have given me sympathy in the form of offering to "rub it and make it better."
I had no idea my friends were such pervs!
I think an appropriate response to that will be, "Come here, little boy/girl, and I'll show you my bruise." But I'm going to have trouble saying that without cracking up. #
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
( 7:03 AM ) teahouse
The Family Jewels
Last night during tae kwon do class, I was sparring with another student when she threw a front turning kick at me, missed my chest guard, and delivered her foot straight to my pubic bone.
I doubled over in pain and crawled into the dressing room so people couldn't hear my howls of anguish.
Someone was dispatched to get some ice packs. I spent the next 20 minutes lying on the floor, groaning and holding a bag of ice to my crotch.
Yes, she had kicked me right in the middle of the Source of All Life.
It was half an hour before I could walk again.
By that point, I'd seen the humor in the situation. On my way home, I took a fresh ice pack and shoved it down the front of my pants.
"Hey, nice bulge," remarked one of the other girls.
The girl who'd kicked me apologized profusely. "It's ok," I said. "I didn't really want to have kids anyway." Then had to assure her I was teasing when I saw the horrified look on her face.
Men aren't the only ones with sensitive spots. I'm definitely going to have a HUGE bruise down there. #
Monday, February 05, 2007
( 8:22 AM ) teahouse
You'll Poke Your Eye Out!!
Yesterday I was running around buying groceries and getting ready for my Super Bowl party.
It was really cold outside (below freezing), and I made the mistake of walking outside with my hair still wet from my morning shower.
At one point I turned my head quickly while crossing the street...and my hair whipped around and scratched my face!
I swear..there were ICICLES hanging off my head. Ouch! I'm lucky I didn't scratch out my own eyes.
I decided to take advantage of the cold after that. I went home and made a chicken dish that involved leaving the cooked chicken in the refrigerator to skim off the fat later.
Instead of refrigerating, I put the huge pot of chicken outside on my balcony for 10 minutes.
It did the trick. #
Friday, February 02, 2007
( 7:02 AM ) teahouse
Puking Down Memory Lane
Well, I'm back, and feeling much better.
Debbie's recent post reminded me of my worst puking story.
I was 13 and woke up puking in the middle of the night. And I had a mouth full of braces and my headgear strapped to my head - the kind that went over the top of my head - no pansy-ass neckgear for me; I had the full multiple strapped helmet-like contraption that messed up my hair for 3 years (I'm still bitter towards my orthodontist for ruining my social life in junior high).
And I sat up suddenly and started vomiting my dinner at 2 a.m., and I couldn't get my stupid headgear off. I was simultaneously grabbing at the sides of my head, tugging at those awful rubber bands that kept it in place and had somehow gotten gnarled in my hair, and choking on the river of grossness that was hurling out of my mouth at 100 mph.
It was mostly solid, and so it got stuck in the front of my headgear, hanging off my lips and partially blocking my mouth. For a moment I thought I was going to choke to death. I remember screaming for my parents, and hearing the scream come out in a half-choked gurgle.
Then I flailed a little, and kicked a lot, and a few seconds later I saw the light go on and my parents run in, and then I felt two pairs of hands yanking off the headgear.
My mom had to spend a while wiping the vomit off the bed and floor. Nothing like a mother's love.
Yes, that was the night I almost choked to death in my own vomit.
But luckily, I didn't. So I'm alive to tell this story. And my teeth are straight.
Now, who can beat THAT puking story? #