Life's Little Pleasures

Just got done making my first crocheted hat ever. Actually, two hats. I knitted a couple of hats two winters ago when I got into knitting for a month (of course as always, got bored with it after I mastered it). I gave them away as gifts & didn't think much about hats until this spring when I saw a cute crocheting book at the library. I checked out the book and bought some yarn & a needle to attempt crocheting, but couldn't follow the written direction for the life of me. Even tried watching some 11 year-old boy do it on YouTube, but he was too fast (watched that thing about 10 freakin times!) So I gave up on making my hat. Plus summer was approaching & I had other projects I wanted to work on.

Then this morning while getting ready for work, I looked out the window & realized summer was definitely over. I could feel the cool breeze & I knew Utah winter would be here before I knew it. I started thinking about hats again and remembered there was a para (teacher's assistant) at my school I've seen crochet. So I took my yarn & needle with me to school & found the lady during my lunch break. She said she hadn't crocheted a hat in a long time, but showed me the basic steps to making a circle. (That's the part I couldn't figure out before.) She wasn't sure whether it would turn out or not, and promised to bring me a pattern tomorrow. But even with her warning, I couldn't stop. By the time lunch was over, I had a round doily.

After school, I brought the doily home & continued crocheting. (I go crazy when I start something new... I can't stop until I'm done.) Before I knew it, I had turned the doily into a fabulous hat. I was so excited I called my friend Cassie to tell her the news. She didn't seem very excited...she was in the middle of fixing her state-of-the-art espresso machine. Thought about calling another friend but realized I'd probably get the same reaction. So instead, I popped in a movie that was overdue and proceeded to make my second hat. (Sh*t's incredibly addicting.)

I think I was supposed to count the stitches, but got too involved in the movie to care, and soon I had a round hot-pad the size of a flour tortilla they use at those taquerias. But not to fear. The coolest thing about this crochet thing is you can undo the stitches & never lose your place the way it happens in knitting. Anyway, I'd become a pro at gliding the needle in & out, and used not knowing how many stitches I had to my advantage & ended up with the coolest shaped hat ever. Not sure if I could duplicate the hats, but I'm totally into it. It's way easier than knitting, and you only need one needle vs two. I almost want to cancel my trip to Lava this weekend so I can stay home & crochet.

That's the thing about being a dabbler...there's so much to do & not enough hours in a day. It's already time for bed, and I really want to crochet another hat...

Mid-Morning Treat

Yesterday was my first day with the kids. 23 adorable little people I'll surely fall in love with in no time. I already have a favorite. (Don't believe it when teachers say they don't have one. It's a lie.) Her name is MayCee. There was this connection the moment we met, and the little munchkin gave me a huge hug and said, "I love you."

She likes watermelon. She told me so when we learned our first poem of the year titled, So Long Summer! It's a cheesy poem about saying good-bye to things we do in the summer and saying hello to school; and eating watermelon was one of them. She raised her hand to tell me how much she loves watermelon. (Just like me.)

Well, lucky for her, Ms. Lee owns a small organic farm, and one of the things that actually survived the "drought" was her watermelon. So I promised MayCee & the rest of the class that I'd bring one in for snack today, and they all cheered. (Gotta love those little first graders. They cheer just about every time I say I'm gonna bring them something.)

So I picked my little watermelon this morning & brought it to school. Wasn't big enough for everyone to share, but we had enough for all the watermelon lovers. It was my first organic watermelon, and theirs too, I'm sure. It had a ton of seeds, but no one cared. We had fun spitting 'em out.

I should totally bring the kids to my farm on a field trip. Wonder if I'd get in trouble for having them weed. It would be an awesome Gardening Unit, and we could learn about organic farms...

Om Shanti Shanti Shanti

Earlier this summer, my friend Phil asked me if I wanted to get married. When I asked him why, he said he just wondered because I seem so content...meaning content with my life.

My "sister" Beau- an astrology expert- said the other day that he would not have guessed I was a Cancer (other than the fact that I was very nurturing) because I seem emotionally stable unlike many Cancers he knows.

For some reason, those two thoughts popped into my head as I was practicing yoga today. And it happened right after I had this strange experience. The only thing I could equate it to is what I'd imagine a religious experience to be. I literally felt a shift inside my body. I felt something lift away, and I was filled with total bliss. It was amazing. It almost felt like I was high on ecstasy, but it wasn't cloudy & dreamy. It really was ineffible.

I've felt total relaxation on many occasions at the end of yoga when we lie there on the floor doing the savasana (the death pose). And on many occasions I've thought that I could just die right there in peace without any fear or regret. But never have I experienced this total harmony where I felt one with deity. It was weird, but so awesome.

The fact that the experience was followed by those two thoughts made me realize it must be yoga that's giving off that vibe to the people I meet, if that's the way they see me. And I do feel totally content tonight, especially having come home to a mowed lawn & a lovely note from one of my favorite friends in SLC, the HasenPfeffer. (If you haven't heard, I hate yard work, especially mowing, right there next to weeding.)

All the love I sent out to the universe during yoga came right back at me with an angel who mowed my lawn just because I asked... Yoga rocks!

Dumb Rules & Guilt

Work officially starts for me tomorrow. Thought I was going to go in a day early to start the week off on a Monday instead of Tuesday, but can't seem to get myself out of the house. It was such a fun summer, I don't want it to end, even though it has ended. The thought of being around 30 or so grouchy teachers for a week before the kids show up is making me a little depressed.

I don't get it. I always thought teaching & being around kids were the reasons for my youthful looks and my silliness; but other than myself, many of the other teachers I have worked with look so withered, tired, and old, not to mention angry. Perhaps this is why I've never really made friends at work & keep a distance, and probably why most think I'm anti-social, and would be shocked to find out how easily I make friends.

I remember when I first started teaching, I was surrounded by either old timers who couldn't wait to retire (and hated kids) or young people who were those types that never shared their notes at school or ever let you copy their work. It loyally sucked being around downers like that, and so I kept myself away from the lunchroom and hung out with the kids in the playground. I could never understand what the big deal was that my students ran down the hallway ('cause I do sometimes, too) & didn't walk in a straight line like little soldiers, and began to hate all the dumb rules they had in schools. (Don't they remember being kids themselves? I used to wonder.) Of course I've grown up a bit and realize some of those rules are there to keep the kids safe, but I still say most are BS.

Like last year, I had this character in my class whom I adored. He was like a little midget (everyone thought he was a kindergartner even though he was in first grade) & funny as h*ll. He apparently got into a lot of trouble with his teacher the year prior, but with me, he became the star of the class. He wrote crazy, awesome stories after spending a week refusing to use capitals & lower case letters properly (hE thOugGht iT wAs reTarDed tHat hE couLdn't Use thEm aNyway he wAnTed) until I finally got him to understand why it was necessary; and even convinced me to let him stay in during recess with the argument that it was a better use of his time to help me or work on a project than walk around the yard aimlessly since he didn't feel like playing any games. How could I say no to that argument?

He actually became the most popular kid in the entire school because whenever we'd have school performances, he'd do this crazy act (sort of like the Hasen-dance if you watched the video clip on my earlier post). I thought he was hilarious and let him do his thing because otherwise, he would just be this weird looking midget everyone made fun of. But with his antics, he took the attention away from his size & became the rock-star as noted by all the six graders.

Well, I got called into the office and got in trouble for encouraging him. My principal thought Connor, the midget, was acting inappropriately, and ruined the performances when in my opinion, he's what made those boring performances actually enjoyable to watch. And each time we did anything in the auditorium, I was warned to keep him in line. So in order to keep my job, I had to beg Connor to be ordinary. Of course he tried to argue he wasn't hurting anyone (which is the one thing I try to teach them all year with being kind & compassionate), but when he realized I was in trouble, he gave in.

So this brings me to the movie I saw yesterday which also made me depressed: Brideshead Revisited. Not only did it make me depressed, but made me want to move. Had no idea it was going to have such heavy religious repression & guilt splashed all over it. I thought I was going to see a British literary costume drama with the plummy accents & hunky yet so civilized men, but came out feeling punched in the stomach by Catholicism & its lethal weapon. Not just Catholicism (I was baptized Catholic), but just religion in general with its moralizing, which in this movie drives a homosexual character to drink to escape the guilt (which essentially ruins his life) and poisons the love between two other characters.

The movie tried to show a comforting power of faith in midst of its power to destroy; but what I saw was how it manipulated a person into succumbing to what he could only view as comfort in the misery of his guilt-ridden, repressed life, or rather life full of lies and half truths. I see it all around me, especially in this State where most call themselves Mormon and "follow" the rules of their church. I've met quite a few gay men who are "trying" not to be gay, which is so sad because the church they love is telling them who they are is wrong. I know it's not just the Mormons, and this happens in most religions and cultures, but that's just it. All organized religions seem to say, our way is the right way, keeping people out who are different rather than embracing everyone for who they are.

So today I wonder if I want to live and work in a city where so many either live a repressed life because they've been told it's living in sin to drink, masterbate, have sex, be gay, etc. or live a life of half truths because they have to hide their lifestyle to their family. I know it's not all black and white, and am probably reacting to this so strongly because I, myself, was raised in a religious family; but do I want to raise my future kids in a city where they "marinate" because having premarital sex is wrong & beat themselves up for masterbating? Do I want them to be around kids who habitually lie & hide their true selves b/c their religious family will judge them?

Who makes up these dumb rules & why do they brainwash young kids into believing that so many things are sinful that they live in frustration & guilt? I just can't seem to help but grapple with this aspect of religion which keeps me away & makes me want to withdraw from it completely.

My New Little Sister

I always envied my friends who had sisters. They always seem to have secrets, tell each other everything, go shopping together, gab all day, and just do lots of things together you can't really do with a brother.

Don't get me wrong, having been a tomboy as a kid, it was awesome having a little brother you could have sword fights with, skateboard with, and just run around with, with all the boys in the neighborhood. But when I got a little older, I envied my friends who could talk about boys, clothes, and sex with their sisters.

On the other hand, it's probably good I didn't have a sister because one thing I couldn't stand about girls growing up was how catty they were. Probably why I didn't have too many girl friends & enjoyed the company of boys much more.

But as so many good things seem to come my way here in SLC, I've found myself a sister...except he's a boy. His name is Beau. I love him. We have so much fun, when we hang out, we can't stop gabbing. We talk and talk and talk about everything, including sex; and I give him lots and lots of advice because he's 28 & Mormon, and you know what that means.

We talk about all the girls he meets as he is a lady's man (look at his pictures, what girl wouldn't fall for him), we go shopping together for kitchenwares because we both love to cook (he went to a culinary institute), we play music together (he's a fabulous musician), and we decorate together because we both have an innate talent for interior design. It can be exhausting, believe me, but he is so adorable, I can't stop gushing over him.

April & Eve, my two friends here who are sisters have a Sisters' Night every Monday. They meet after work, just the two of them, have dinner and do what sisters do, I imagine- tell secrets and gab all night. Well, I'm no longer jealous, because I'm going to have my own sisters' night with Beau, my new adopted boy-sister.

My Little Babes

It's a miracle. My little farm has produced edible goodies. Didn't think it was going to happen, especially after I was told by a self-proclaimed expert backyard farmer, Miles, that I wasn't watering enough. "Look at the leaves," he had said, "How could you not know you weren't watering enough? They're dying!" Well, frankly, I hadn't been going out there to even notice. It was too hot, even in my air-conditioned house. Why the h*ll would I go outside? Plus I had a new toy to play with- my piano.

Well, it finally cooled down yesterday... a breezy 85 degrees. It felt like fall, almost, so I ventured out to the back. Oh, I do have such lovely yard...too bad it's so hot here in the summer. I walked over to the little patch of farm to see how the leaves were doing, and I noticed something red. OMG, is that a tomato!? Yes, it was a tomato, bright red tomato! My own little tomato, and I found another one right behind it. I jumped up and down in excitement, almost falling off the ledge, and looked closer at the other plants. (My organic farm is separated by a small wall where I have to stand to look at the plants.)

OMG, I've got peppers, too! Oh sh*t, why did I plant so many? I thought one plant would yield about six at the most. Oh no, there's about thirty on each plant! Wait, what were they again? I had to dig around the ground to find the little plaque to figure out what kind of peppers I had planted. They were Anaheim Chiles. What am I going to do with all of these? Why didn't someone tell me I didn't need to plant so many? That Shane, some help he is!

Anyway, after the mini-drama I had in my head over all the wrong things I had planted, I proceeded to walk around the farm & found one watermelon, one eggplant, one jalapeno, two ripe cherry tomatoes, dead cucumbers, dead corn, and lots of green tomatoes hanging from the vine...is it called a vine? I couldn't help but smile looking at all my organics. No pesticides, not even any fertilizer or plant food, and I had myself my own fresh farm produce. I felt like a proud parent, even though I neglected them most of the time they were fighting to survive.

Now I understand why people do this every year, and kind of understand why people have kids. It's a lot of work & a pain in the behind, and at times you neglect them just out of pure frustration...but when they start maturing a bit & start looking like what they were meant to be, they're just so beautiful. Wow, I think I just grew up a little, maybe... I think my veggie garden helped me understand that having children is not the end of the world, as I had always thought. Oh my, am I finally ready for a conventional life of marriage and family? Oh no, what has Utah done to me?

But I so do hate the conventional...hmm, we'll see what unfolds.

the Manifester

About a year ago, I got it in my head that I wanted a Steinway. For those of you unfamiliar, Steinway is the Rolls-Royce of pianos, I would imagine, or a Bentley or whatever people seem to believe is the top-of-the-line car of the century these days. And if you know me at all, you know I'm not into brand names, and could care less what the logo says as long as it does what it's supposed to do without breaking apart in a week. I even get embarrassed and definitely have the middle-class guilt when it comes to owning nice things... probably why I gave away my BMW even though it drove stupendously. I even put out a disclaimer when people come over to my house for the first time, "Don't judge me for how my place looks. It's just a byproduct of how I was raised, but I'd be happier living in a trailer."

However, when it comes to musical instruments, I can't help but want the best. It's not a pair of jeans or a mass produced factory made product, (well in some cases, yes) but a work of art, crafted to sound just perfect in the hands of a talented musician (...and especially for those of us not as gifted because then whatever you play ends up sounding so much better.) The Steinways are built by hand, and it takes about a year to build this masterpiece. They've been doing it, I believe, since 1853.

Anyway, I had gotten into playing the guitar last year, and it subsequently got me into wanting to play the piano I used to hate as a kid. (I was tortured into playing two hours a day from age 5 to 10 until I escaped the Korean regime and fled to the States.) The painful memories of sitting in front of the giant black torture device while my brother & my friends played outside had finally eased up, and I actually wanted the monster back in my house. (I do have an electric piano, but it's just not the same.)

So I found a Steinway Dealership that sells these quality instruments and I went from one grand to the next like a kid in a candy store playing the only music I still knew how to play: Beethoven's Piano sonata No. 8 or part of it, anyway. Then came over the salesperson with the bad news. Fifty grand for the baby grand. $50,000!? I left the store, deflated.

Finish the remodel of the house or buy a Steinway? It was a tough decision, but in the end, my practical side won over and I shelved my dream of owning a Steinway. But as I always do when I badly want something, I pictured it in my house even though I knew I couldn't afford one on my teacher's salary.

Well, about a month ago, I got a phone call from my mom. Her friend was selling a used Steinway and wanted to know if I was still interested. $25,000, she said. "Mom, my birthday is coming up & I haven't made you waste money on a wedding...how about a piano?" She didn't think that was amusing. (My mom's been wanting me to get married since I was in my early twenties. She thinks I'm waiting for her to die so I can marry whomever I want.) She said if I got married, she'd buy me one. Seriously, here I am finally telling her I want to play the piano, something she's been wanting me to do all my life, and she dangles the marriage bit. I swear, nothing is free in life. People always seem to want something in exchange for whatever they're giving away...even your own parents.

Anyway, I finally convinced her to loan me the money, and got myself that sweet baby grand. (And Hasen, the only friend who was excited for me with this purchase, also gave me a fabulous idea for paying my parents back- my inheritance!) The piano came all the way from Chicago, so it needed tuning. I waited a month for this guy because he's the Master Tuner of all the notable Steinways in the city. He finally showed up this morning, and guess what? The piano's worth $35,000. Not only did I get the piano I wanted by visualizing it in my house, I made 10 grand in a month! How fantastic is that!?

So I've come to really believe what my friend, Lauren said about me. She said I was a manifester, and I think I really am. She said in the year she's known me, whatever I've said I really wanted in my life, I've gotten. And looking back on my life, I think she is absolutely right. It's not a wish thing, it's more of a concrete thing where I say I want this & I'm going to get it. How do you think I got my job, my house, and ended up in SLC? Try it. I don't think it's just me. I think anyone can do it.

I'm a Man, Apparently...

So I decided to be real "good" and didn't have a lick of alcohol last night, even though everyone else was boozing it up. Of course, all the ladies at the toenail party gave me a hard time about turning Mormon on them; or rather saving myself to party with the Mormons, instead. But I stuck to my guns and came home sober at 11 pm. I had decided I was going to cut down on my drinking...plus, I was saving myself for the possible debauchery tonight at the Trapp Door. (Not sure anymore though, as I've gotten no sleep. I bet the toenail ladies put a curse on me after I left. Tekoa does have a voodoo doll.)

My plans for a good night sleep (so I could rip the dance floor tonight) backfired on me. I guess my body's just not used to going to sleep sober these days, and I freakin' woke up at 6:30 and couldn't go back to sleep. So what can you do at 6:30 in the morning, especially now that I have a roommate? Not much. So I sat in front of my computer and started reading my friend, Christy's blog from the beginning as she takes some awesome pictures and writes funny captions to go along with 'em.

That's when I stumbled upon this thing called Celebrity Collage by MyHeritage.com. You can upload a photo of yourself, and it matches your face to celebrities. How fun! So I started out by uploading the profile picture I have on this blog page, which my friend, Kimon took with his amazing camera at the library when he came to visit. I like it because I think I look mischievous.

Well, what d'ya know...I'm White. I knew it! Even my own family called me a Whitey when I was little because I had red hair & freckles, and that list of Stuff White People Like is so me in so many ways.

Take a look:

But I had to try another one. This time it's me playing around with my photo-booth on my computer a few months ago.

That's more like it. It finally recognized that I am indeed Asian. I don't know who Matsu Takako is, but she's hot and she's Japanese. No wonder people talk to me in Japanese when I visit Korea. In case you didn't know, I'm not White nor am I Japanese. (Nor Chinese to those of you in Utah.) From what I've been told, I'm a descendant of the founder & the first king of the Joseon Dynasty in Korea.

I don't know. I still wasn't convinced. These chics are way too hot. So I tried another picture. That's me right now, messy bed-head, shiny face from the night cream I put on before going to bed (hey, how do you think I stay looking so young!?), all puffy and look what it turned up...

I'm a man. No wonder I get hot for girls when I'm drunk. That's my uninhibited male side coming out. Hmm...could this be why I like skinny, pretty boys in real life?

Family Ties

It had been a while since we were all together at Chris & Cassie's. Andrew was out of the hospital, Jake's new girlfriend was out of town which meant Jake was back with us again, and Hasen-Beau were gone so I was present. We were all there, and it was just our old gang again (except for this one lady from St. George not too many of us knew).

As much as all the fun I've been having with my new friends lately, there was definitely a sense of familiarity & sort of a coming home feeling to the evening, like the way it felt when I used to go home for the holidays in college. It was like being with my family again and realizing how much I adore & missed being with them all, even though I've been neglecting them a bit with the excitement of being around the Logan crowd.

To top it off, Chris showed us a bunch of Youtube clips of sitcoms we used to watch as kids, and we all sang along. (Punky Brewster, Family Ties, Silver Spoons, Growing Pains, Alf, the Wonder Years, Different Strokes, Small Wonder, Mr. Belvedere, Who's the Boss, etc.) We ooh-ed & ahh-ed over all the great shows commenting on how they don't make tunes like that anymore. I must admit, I got a little teary-eyed singing along to Family Ties because I was surrounded by people who love me the most in SLC - my family, my true A-team.