unemployed = me

And I couldn't be happier!!! I was let go when I informed my supervisor that I wouldn't be able to attend training. Apparently I was supposed to consider training before making any travel plans for my time off. *shrug* I don't care. I feel so free and I've been doing wonderful things with my time such as applying to other jobs and making banana bread.

this is probably funnier to me because its 4 am...

Coming back from a night out, I was about to get on the elevator in my apartment when I look down and see this...



what the?!?!

I was in a state of utter confusion, which is a state that I am quite familiar with. I then realized that I had put on one of my roommates shoes that she had in her car. Oops... we got a good laugh.

can someone else do it...

I hate making decisions. It isn't really how I anticipated starting my summer. I've been out of work for roughly a week and it has been a lot of fun. I've seen most of my friends, entertained visitors, spied on a blind date, stayed up all night in New York, and then some... Now I am coming off of that whirlwind, letting the excitement simmer down and settle.

I have to start thinking about what I want to do with the rest of my summer, what I am going to do in the fall, and how I will cope financially for the upcoming year. Have I mentioned that roomie is in fact, not moving to New York? HUGE WEIGHT lifted off my shoulders and let's be honest, the ballet academy took too much out of us for us to truly enjoy our wonderful living situation. I am thrilled to continue living with her.

Anyway, in about two weeks, I have to either go back to work at the ballet academy or I can get on a plane and face the unknown of New Orleans (that is, if they want me... I find out next week). The New Orleans AmeriCorps program I applied for is eight weeks, while work at the ballet academy would only be six weeks. I am also taking quite a pay cut and essentially throwing job security for the following year out the window. I don't know how much of a sacrifice that is, considering I don't love working at the ballet academy anyway.

If I do go to New Orleans, I am missing out on a summer with all my nearest and dearest and I will have to find a job upon my return - a job that will pay me at least as much as the ballet academy (which in theory, shouldn't be too difficult to find). Then I start my grad program! New Job? Grad Program? It's a little overwhelming. I am hoping for a grad assistantship so that I can get a break on tuition because I already have loans to deal with. I will only have a few weeks in August to get all that sorted out. If I continue working at the ballet academy, I might just be signing up for another year of misery.

I am not sure what to do because I am not certain whether I am capable of juggling so many things at once. I often need time alone to recharge and work through my mental processes. Who knows if I will have time to do that next year or if it's going to be go-go-go 24/7? I am having one of those moments right now while I'm at my mom's. It's a bit of a retreat because I can avoid reality and responsibility a little bit and watch some MNT soccer. The chaos of this environment gives me a great excuse to be unproductive (and not shower).

I think my mind is already made up. I've discussed with some friends and my mom. So, I guess we just have to see whether AmeriCorps wants me in New Orleans or not. And we have to see if they can give me good terms for my stay there... hmmm... I would ALSO like to find out if I got any of the scholarships that I applied for. That would be a big help. *sigh* When is it all going to fall into place?

a moment with mom

Driving to dim sum with my mom today, we were talking about how my car was running. It's about 15 years old. Only two of its four doors actually open from the inside. There's a dent in the bumper that I put there about ten years ago. The interior of the roof is sagging just a bit. And, the front license plate mysteriously disappeared recently.

Regardless of these things, I enjoy my car, poor brakes, scratched paint and all. It was also the first big purchase that my mom made after she divorced my dad, so I feel like there is some sentimental value there as well, though she was almost going to get rid of it before I came back to Virginia. Anyway, we're on our way to dim sum. Mom is behind the wheel and she says, "You should go on 'Pimp My Ride.'" Such a strange comment for so many reasons.

local celebrity crush

This past Sunday, while out at Lima, I met my local celebrity crush. It was a very minor crush. I know this because I hadn't fully stalked him on the internet until I met him. I spoke to him briefly, but that was about it. I'm not too smooth when it comes to those types of situations. I will have to work on that.

HOW DID I FORGET?!?!?!

I am working my last Saturday overnight shift of the year. I can hardly contain myself! Now I must run home and sleep.

a pity

I don't like pity when it comes to really serious matters. I don't even tell people about some of the more serious issues in my life because I don't want to be consoled, at least I don't think I do. I don't really know how I would want anyone to respond. I am typically not capable of dealing with problems in the moment. It takes solitude and time in order for me to process and I guess I find it easier to make a joke out of some things. But, there are some situations that aren't funny by any stretch of the imagination. Everything always comes to a head and we realize that we don't have all the time in the world.

I downplay any "drama" that has occurred in my life. Nervous laughter is my most common response when people tell me something sad. I feel awkward before I feel sympathetic. I don't even think my means of cheering up is orthodox. I'm an avoider. It's easier to just not say anything because then maybe the problem is not real.

So, yeah... something sort of huge is weighing on me. I feel helpless in the situation and horrible that I am not doing anything proactive about it. It's not on my mind a whole lot, which in itself makes me feel guilty, only every now and then it strikes me and maybe there is a fleeting flash of sadness in my eyes, but I don't dwell on it. If I think about it too long, I am plagued with the "what ifs" and those questions are too hard to answer.

ramblings before bedcheck...

I am currently taking a break from my fries and fried chicken wrap in order to burp and blog. I was eating to the point of asphyxiation when I realized that I have about 6 hours left of my shift. Still have bedcheck to do as well as typing up the daily report.

Hmm... so, what's been going on lately? This week I spent entirely too much time at work, but I don't really have a lot to complain about. Kids are tolerable since performance is coming up and they don't have the energy to fight you on every little thing. The dinner cruise/"prom" was last night, so I got to eat and dance, easily two of my favorite things to do. What I thought was going to be a terrible week actually turned out better than ok. And now there is only one more week of work left!!!

Over the break, we are celebrating roomie's birthday, going to New York for a small CA family reunion, going to visit Fromme in San Diego (solo venture), and redecorating our apartment!

I seem to always be a part of a "we" for some reason. It's been some time since the "we" was actually me and a male and even then I'm not convinced we "we'd" very much. Perhaps I'm just better "we-ing" with friends. I am not sure why I always have one person in my life who morphes into my counterpart. I don't think I am co-dependent, but what other explanation is there?

what's it called when...

you like someone too old for you? Where is the clever term for the opposite of "robbing the cradle?"

Today I realized that I found a kid's dad attractive. When he said my name, I think I swooned just a little. Is that wrong? I'm obviously not trying to get in his pants since he's married and all, just admiring. He's not sexy really, just has this presence. *shrug* Do men get better with age?

"you want the truth?"

Where do we learn how to lie?

It's not something our parents teach us. It's not something we learn in school. There aren't public service announcements. Yet, somewhere along the way, we all acquire the ability to spin the truth or to tell the "little white lie."

This thought came to me today when I thought of how honest children are. My three and a half year old second-cousin came up to me at my cousin's birthday party and said, "I like you. Your dress is pretty." Why is it that this compliment was so much more meaningful coming from a 3 year old than a 30 year old (sorry cuz...)?

The honesty in children is so enlightening. You can trust that they aren't trying to get anything out of you (except maybe a few minutes of bubble wrap-popping fun). They don't have to put on a fake face or have a couple drinks before the truth comes out. They just tell it like it is. And nobody holds it against them. Ahhhh... and is that the answer?

We learn to "refine" the truth or hide certain details to protect ourselves?

I've never been a good liar. I think my M.O. was to not say anything. As a toddler, when my mom asked me if I drank my brother's bottle, I just didn't reply. Not answering was surely better than lying, and perhaps a smidge less incriminating. I may or may not employ the same tactics now. Being honest doesn't always put you high on everyone's favorites list, which might explain some things in my life.

It's weird because we are led to believe that honesty is an admirable trait. Of our forefathers (ok... feel a little awkward calling them that...) we have "Honest Abe" and good old "I cannot tell a lie" Washington. How times have changed. Nobody has such monikers these days, at least nobody I know of. I guess what it comes down to is that some people just don't want to hear the truth.

dispelling the myth

I was given a lot of crap this past Thursday evening because a certain Kor-negro is under the impression that I only like white guys. I've known him for about 4-5 years and in that time I've definitely had an intense flirtation/borderline relationship with one black guy who he knew of, but he seems to ignore that fact. I've also had a crush here and there on other random guys of different ethnicities. This leads me to believe that his gripe is really just a cover-up for his disappointment that I haven't dated an Asian guy.

First of all, the first Asian man ever in my life was a disappointment that caused strife in my childhood. The relationship has been reconciled, but it doesn't change the impression I was left with growing up.

Second, when I liked Asian guys on a more regular basis (middle school?), they didn't seem to like me back.

Third, and probably most importantly and I realize this goes back to my second point ... Asian guys don't like me!!!

Generally, Asian guys like their Asian girls to fit into a specific mold. There are already expectations set in place. I think the typical Asian girl can fall into one of four categories.

1) The Innocent/China Doll - usually petite and always undeniably cute - someone who eminates a certain helplessness

2) The Bitch/Sexpot - beautiful and she knows it - men are her slaves, if you enter into a relationship with her, you can expect to be at her beck and call, she's liable to nag you to death as well.

3) The Submissive - she will cook and clean for you in order to prove her worthiness - she might have a low self-esteem, be very well trained, or have extremely strong ties to tradition

4) The Nerd - she doesn't exude any sexiness - she probably has a body comparable to a wooden plank and though she is nice, there will never be any sexual tension

So, pretty much, if you're not The Innocent, The Bitch or The Submissive, no Asian guy is going to like you. Asian girls have a charm of being coy, quiet and needy that I can't seem to grasp.

The last Asian guy that was in my presence deemed me undateable because despite my exterior (let's just throw in posterior why we're at it... though I guess they aren't exactly highly favored by Asian guys anyway), I have "a lot of mouth." Who me?! I had no idea...

Roomie's brother also commented that in his observation of Asian guys, he has noticed that they go for girls that are reserved and quiet. "HT has an attitude and Asian guys don't like that." So, apparently even non-Asian guys can pick me out as a girl that Asian guys wouldn't like!

Girls like me that don't fit neatly into one of the forementioned categories have to seek guys outside of the race. Perhaps this explains why you so often find Asian women with non-Asian men. I haven't formed a solid theory on "Yellow Fetish" yet, but that's one arena that I would like to stay out of anyway. In conclusion, perhaps it isn't Asian women rejecting Asian men, but Asian men rejecting Asian women.

cultural identity crisis?

"She's just Black."

"Are you kin to Kimora Lee (who is 1/2 Black, and 1/2 Japanese)?"

"Do you wish you were Black?"

These are just a few phrases I've encountered in the past few years. I've never thought of myself as anything besides a little Asian girl, though I realize that I'm not typical by any standard.

My mom dated Black men since she separated from my Taiwanese father. I saw my first tub of hair grease at age 10 and I started using Palmer's cocoa butter around that same time. Perhaps it was this early exposure that has made me so comfortable with Black culture and the Black community. Even though I'm comfortable with it, I know that I don't engage in the same banter nor have the same charms as Black girls, nor do I try to pretend that I do. I like mostly r&b and hip-hop music, but I don't speak in 'ebonics' nor do I wear Baby Phat or Fubu.

I always had friends of different races and ethnicities growing up and there was never any tension in that for me. I can remember holidays in my house spent with not just my family, but with family friends from different countries and of different complexions.

I feel like I have gained some sort of acceptance by Black people, maybe because I have a sense of rhythm and I'm smart enough to not use the 'N-word.' I feel comfortable saying Black instead of 'African-American' because it doesn't sound derogatory to me and I think that making the distinction between an African descendant living in America and a person living in America who is a product of slavery is important.

The other day I was hanging out with a crowd of all Black people and didn't give it a second thought until my friend called me 'Negro' to which I announced to everyone else, 'He called me a negro!' Did he really see me as a negro?! Him, who is half Korean and half Black? It was a comical moment and a realization that everybody there really was a negro except me (or so I thought...). It was amusing. Later on that evening, me and the Kor-negro had to bond as the Asian contingent of our party when everyone else was talking about colonization and color complexes.

Sometimes I feel as if I am better able to fit in with Black people than with Asian people. I have a tendency to hang back in most crowds especially during the first interaction so I don't notice a marked difference in my behavior due to different environments or company. I would hope that both cultures would be accepting of me, but I tend to hang out with more Black people than Asian people. My Asian friends are either in CA or they do not enjoy the same types of activities as I do (namely sweating my face off on the dance floor with or without the help of alcohol).

Being a racial minority is something that I can not hide. It is in my appearance, in my name, and perhaps a lot of my odd behaviors or characteristics are a result of my Asian background and upbringing. I have had (White) friends tell me that they think of me as White and though they might mean it as a compliment or a way of explaining how close they feel to me, I take it as an insult. One of my friends recently said that she was happy that I was "getting into" my culture. I didn't realize that I wasn't into it to begin with. Am I supposed to carry around chopsticks and watch Anime in order to show that I'm Chinese? I'm sorry I don't do kung fu and that my math skills are questionable.

Most of society (ok, most White people) can't understand the struggle that minorities sometimes face. You always feel as if you are a representative for your race. When the Virginia Tech Massacre occurred, I know every Asian nationality group was on edge about what nationality the shooter was. One person can bring shame and embarassment to an entire race. White people don't really have to deal with this dilemma because they are in the majority and simply have to represent themselves as individuals. It is also evident in how they relate with minorities. My non-White friends might not think of me in racial terms all the time, but would never think of me as White, whereas some of my White friends would be quick to lump me into their group in their acceptance of me.

The most recent time that I can recall feeling really uncomfortable about race was when I was in CA. I had met up with some people to watch 'Sarah Silverman: Jesus is Magic'. In the movie she makes fun of different racial groups. As a Jew, she is part of a minority group, but not necessarily a visually obvious one. Sitting in the theatre, listening to each jab that she took at Blacks, Asians or Hispanics, I wanted to shrivel up and disappear. It became startlingly apparent to me that everyone else in the theatre was White. After the movie, everyone I was with seemed to rave about how funny it was. Hmm... maybe because she didn't make fun of White people. They had no clue of how awkward I felt or how disgusted I was that I had paid money to feel the way I did. Thankfully, those people weren't my close friends, but mere acquaintances. I don't know if I would want friends who thought that movie was funny. Perhaps this will be a part of my "Friendship Test."

Roomie was the one that prompted me to write this blog. I guess it's something that we discuss a lot in our attempt to figure out who we are. Is that weird? Is our roommate relationship turning us into narcissists?! Oh dear... sounds like a potential blog.

excuse me...

Um... ex-boyfriend, why are you texting my best friend at MIDNIGHT?! Get your own friends! Sheesh... What is wrong with you?

I'm remembering that I don't really enjoy the sound of your voice and you mumble. Please leave my friends alone, they think you're an idiot.

heartbreaker?

The promo I worked today required me trying to convince people to allow themselves to be videotaped for a website/commercial/future-television-show. The topic of the video clip was heartbreak. Since this promo wasn't simply about passing out coupons or vitamins, I had to turn on the limited charm I have. Somehow, one of my interactions took a strange turn when I played into this guy's joke about heartbreak. I asked him if he had a story to share and he was like, "Yeah, why didn't you call me?" We joked a little bit and he signed the release form and did a video clip for us. About two hours later, he found me and said, "I forgot something." And when I asked him what he forgot, he said he forgot to get my number.

***Crickets***

Sorry guy. I don't think you're cute. I'm working this promo and I have to be nice to you, but I feel kinda bad...

I didn't say anything.

The silence lasted a little too long and then he finally saved himself with, "I'm just kidding." Whew. I didn't really want to crack his face, but I know I still kinda did. *shrug* What was I supposed to do?

so much to blog, so little time...

This week has been a bit of a whirlwind. Tuesday, I convinced N to buy and wear a fake engagement ring so that we could go to a Bride's Night Out event in which we (D, P, N and I) got to sample food and wine, as well as a chocolate fountain. It was not a bad time and definitely hilarious because N was wearing an $8 "diamond" ring from Claire's. She claimed to have a good time, but who really knows with those pods.

Wednesday, I worked. Thursday I worked a promo at the University of Maryland . The promo only lasted an hour because we were handing out fliers. I was quite proud of myself for navigating my way there, I must say. Later that evening, Roomie and I went to a soccer game. Afterwards we went out to K Street Lounge with some of the guys.

I had a brief and interesting conversation with one of the players because he asked me why I was so picky when it came to guys. I told him that I wasn't necessarily picky, but that guys just don't like me. I believe what I said was, "Have you seen any guys approach me or try to talk to me?" Then I mentioned how guys like girls with problems who are needy. It was refreshing to hear him tell me otherwise. A relief actually.

Today, I worked about fourteen hours straight. It wasn't as bad as it sounds, despite the fact that I only got three hours of sleep. I worked a promo for about 6 hours at University of Maryland, during which I got a lovely sunburn on my nose, and then I worked at the ballet academy.

I felt like luck was on my side today. I parked in a lot that I wasn't supposed to park in while at University of Maryland and didn't get a ticket! YAY! And then when I came home tonight, I was able to find a parking space instead of parking in the Giant parking lot. During my promo today, for some reason Mr. Campbell (our boss) decided that I should get a free webcam. So, now I have a webcam. I made a promise with him to actually use it, so I will try to get on that. Perhaps my diaries will have a new format soon.

does anyone snood anymore?

The latest craze at the ballet academy is... drumroll please... tetris.

Um... yeah... the game I played in ELEMENTARY school. I don't get it. I guess classics never go out of style.

do you think i cracked his face?

Perhaps it's a word to the wise to be nice to your higher ups, but I have never been a very good brown-noser. I don't outrightly challenge authority, however, if I get a sense that they are incapable or have any sort of ego problem, I don't mind posing a challenge.

I do not often mention this supervisor because I only work with him once a week, so for most of the week I forget what a pain in the ass he is. On Fridays when I work in the morning he insists that I carry around a walkie-talkie so that he can order me around. And the retarded thing is, a lot of the time he asks me where I am in the building - like it matters! Hello... just tell me what you want me to do, cut the chit chatter. Anyway, he is annoying and I think he derives some sort of pleasure from being able to tell people what to do.

Yesterday, I was chatting in the teacher's lounge a little bit before my shift. He walks past and sees me in there and tells me to go to the RA Office. Um... hello... my shift doesn't start for another 15 minutes. So, I say, "It's not quite 3 yet." I said it in a nice a cheery tone with a smile on my face until he walked away. Later, when I finally made it to the RA Office, he had nothing to say to me! Further evidence that he just wanted to tell me what to do! Why are people like that? Sheeesh...

He might have a LMS (Little Man Syndrome), which I guess I can't blame him for, but don't take it out on me. Go find some tall woman to be your bitch.

sometimes you forget

I haven't talked to my favorite mentee in awhile. I always love talking to her because there is no awkwardness or falsity in our relationship. I think she is more or less open with me and willing to indulge me by letting me ramble on about whatever it is that I ramble about.

She's only a commuter student though, so she's not always around to keep me from hating this place.

By the way... yesterday I definitely hated the administration more... I think that will be an ongoing trend, but the kids can surprise you.

awestruck

E sent me this passage from a book she just finished reading. I don't think including any of my own personal thoughts could do this excerpt justice. It verbally illustrates the quintessential male/female relationship in a profound and amazing way. And here it is... for my blog audience.

“… There is something mythic in the way a man is with a woman. Our sexuality offers a parable of amazing depth when it comes to being masculine and feminine. The man comes to offer his strength and the woman invites the man into herself, an act that requires courage and vulnerability and selflessness for both of them. Notice first that if the man will not rise to the occasion, nothing will happen. He must move, his strength must swell before he can enter her. But neither will the love consummate unless the woman opens herself in stunning vulnerability. When both are living as they were meant to live, the man enters his woman and offers her his strength. He spills himself there, in her, for her, she draws him in, embraces and enveloped him. When all is over he is spent, but ah, what a sweet death it is.
“And that is how life is created. The beauty of a woman arouses a man to play the man, the strength of a man, offered tenderly to his woman, allows her to be beautiful, it brings life to her and to many. This is far, far more than sex and orgasm. It is a reality that extends to every aspect of our lives. When a man withholds himself from his woman, he leaves her without the life only he can bring. This is never more true than how a man offers- or does not offer – his words. Life and death are in the power of the tongue says proverbs (18:21). She is made for and craves words from him” (185).

severe untreatable cystic acne

I'm having a day of indifference. I'm wondering whether job satisfaction is really that important. As long as I'm able to pay my rent and live each month, perhaps I don't need to be happy with my job. I don't believe its possible that people are always happy with their jobs, maybe I just need to suck it up and be happy as long as each work day ends.

Today, the work irritation wasn't from the kids. It was actually one of my "superiors" who got under my skin. As I as about to leave the RA office she said "Either you need to pull your skirt up or pull your shirt down." It was said in a tone as if she was reprimanding a child! I might have been a little understanding if it had been a repeat offense, but it was the only time she has ever commented on the way I dressed. I was wearing a magenta draw-string linen skirt with a black short sleeved v-neck sweater. At the most there was maybe a half inch sliver of my stomach showing and it's not like it was intentional.

I was so stunned that I couldn't even muster a response. And of course afterwards I'm beating myself up for allowing her to speak to me in that way without any rebuke. She had no right. I HATE this woman. I hope that her daughter has severe untreatable cystic acne just like she did. Only that would make me feel better.

I contemplated just showing up to work naked one day. Unfortunately, I don't think I could even make it out my front door without any clothes on. I also don't really have a desire to be fired at this point, since I don't have a backup plan quite yet.

I think I am going to have to start keeping a tally on who pisses me off more, the kids or administration. Hmm...