Boy, do I have some Tales to Tell...
I'm 37 years-old.
For a large part of my life, I struggled with being Asian. Everything about it bothered me. I cringed at inviting my friends into being a part of my family. Not my nuclear one. Actually, never my nuclear one. But definitely the rest. I remember being both embarrassed and resentful of what my Asian relatives thought, believed, and said. I always felt that my relatives perpetuated a stereotype that I hated. Not that I was not brought up to fit that stereotype. I just hated that they had to basically throw it in my face. Or at least, I felt like they were.
Speaking of my face, I really did not like the way I looked. As a youth, I was overweight. I had this pudgy Asian look that I could not accept. I knew I wanted to do something about it. I wasn't sure what but I had to do something. Maybe get my nose done.
When I went college, I ended up living in the International Dorm. Which was populated mostly by Asians. I also majored in Electrical Engineering. Which was populated by Asians. And I belonged to the South East Asian Student Association. Which was populated by... Asians. I think part of me was trying to find an alternative to what my relatives represented. I did. But I still felt that there was this underlying mentality that I could not escape. Unless...
When I got out of college (with my Electrical Engineering Degree, pleasing my Asian relatives), I basically removed myself from being around mostly Asians. I felt that I needed to be around others with different ways of thinking. I kept in touch with a few college friends. Mostly the non-Asians. Actually, only two were Asian. And now they are married to each other. I actually set them up, inadvertently. But, I digress...
Anyway, out of college, I hung out with everyone else except Asians. I did my best to be around non-Asians. I look back now and find it silly. Silly that I would put so much effort into being that way. There were times when I would be the only Asian in the group. Actually, I remember many times when I would be the only non-Caucasian. That's what happens when you become part of the circuit party... um, circuit. Thankfully, I no longer am.
I am not sure where I turned the corner. Maybe it is all part of becoming a mature person. Maybe as you get older you can't be bothered by all the limitations or expectations you placed on yourself as a youth. Maybe it's because I have been in a nurturing relationship with a man who has taught me to enjoy people for who and what they are. I still find some of my relatives expectations ridiculous. But I no longer associate those expectations with being Asian. Because, according to my friend, Jews are the same way. But I digress again.
The other day, I was shaving. As I looked in the mirror, this different feeling came over me. I realized that I have not felt resentment for being Asian. I have not resented the slanted eyes or the non-pointed nose. I don't even remember the last time I felt "embarrassed" about being Asian. I felt proud of what I looked like. I felt proud of what I felt like. I felt proud of being Asian. Okay. Proud may be a strong word. But, I did feel good about what I saw in the mirror. A mature Asian man who no longer feels less for being that. Not bad, eh? Later.
Maybe someone reading can help me out:
I am supposed to attend an engagement party on Saturday. Our friend is getting married and we told her we would come to the engagement party BUT would not be able to make it to the wedding itself. She was happy that we could make it to the engagement party.
Here is the dilemma: do we get her a present for the engagement party? Wondering. Later.
What a lovely day to attend a parade. Lunch with good friends. Nice shaded spot to view the parade. With my husband. Left at a good time. Headed to a nice quiet and civil bar for some cocktails and appetizers. Easy stroll to the subway to head home. Quiet evening chatting with best friend. Husband says that we are the luckiest couple in the world. We just may be. Later.
So, what have I done so far this exciting Pride weekend? Well, Friday night, I got super tipsy with my husband at a restaurant bar. We did have fries with our drinks but they barely soaked up what I had. It didn't help that we got home and continued drinking. No dancing at all.
Saturday morning: power walk in Central Park with the husband. That afternoon: lunch with sis and my husband and my friend, Janice. Shopping for veggies. Home by early evening. Made a roasted grape tomato summer pasta dish. Folded laundry. Made a buckwheat salad. Got hooked on the Charm School Marathon on MTV. Nope. No dancing still. Fun but not very gay. At least, not as I planned.
I am still meeting with my friend Samara to go to the parade. She wants to take some pictures for her portfolio. Maybe I can still redeem myself. Wish me luck. Later.
This weekend, Gay Pride Weekend, I am off. Let me rephrase that: I do not have to go to any of my jobs all weekend long. So, I have decided that starting Friday night, I am going to go out and celebrate. I definitely will celebrate being gay. But, in addition, I am going to celebrate the fact that I am in town, on Gay Pride weekend, with no commitments whatsoever.
On Friday night, I think I will head to certain bar
to see if a certain blogger
is tending. Then, I think I will go celebrate my patron saint, Madonna, at a certain 1980's-themed dance night. On Saturday night, if none of my friends want to go out, I may just head out by myself (unless I can convince him
to finally meet with me) to a dance club to dance the night away.
Wish me fun times. Later.
For the past three weeks, I have been drinking a protein shake in the morning. I added this routine because I was having a hard time eating breakfast every morning. So, I decided to have a shake in the morning along with my two cups of coffee. I had originally started out using sweetened rice milk as my base but decided to change to frozen fruit and water. During this change, I have come to a conclusion. Sugar should be made a food group.
I don't know how people do it. How do they not have sugar with their food? I have acquiesced and used a natural sweetener called Stevia. It adds some flavor but honestly, because the protein powder I am using is devoid of sugar, it really is difficult to "swallow". After I am done with this batch, I am returning to another brand that has sugar and is much more about meal replacement than pure protein intake.
It's funny because, once in a while, I get on this mini kick about cutting down the amount of sugar that I intake. I don't know why. Most of the people who I have met that claim that they don't eat sugar all look hungry and angry. They tend to be proud of cutting out sugar from their diet. I often wonder if they realize that they are staring at the piece of cake that I am eating. And boy do I mean staring.
With this new batch of protein powder, I thought I would cut down on the sugar intake. Truth be told, it just sucks. I force down the shake. The fruit adds flavor but, really, in the morning, I just want something good to ingest. And some sweetness does make it easy to swallow. As you know, just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. Is that too much to ask for? Later.
In the workplace, when does one stop being "politically correct" and start being "business-ly"? In my new position, one of my tasks is to create/teach classes that will improve our dwindling customer service. In the past, we have been very careful about what we say. I have decided that we are done with that and we need to start giving these ghetto folk we hire the proper verbiage.
Our talent pool is not so much. Actually, it's more like a talent puddle. I work with a lot of people who have not gone past the eight grade and mainly because they had a child. They have no interaction or conversational skills. They are dumb as fucking rocks. Most of them cannot form a sentence, verbally or manually. It is quite irritating. So, my leadership team has decided that it is time to change that. Truth is, like it or not, if you work in our company, you are expected to speak a certain way. God knows, we pay them a enough money to do so.
The other thing we are going to teach is body language. Honestly, if you hate being where you are, then leave. Go back to your lame ghetto existence and stop being here. We don't need it. I would rather wait in line for someone nice and pleasant than be waited on immediately by someone who does not even give two cents about whether or not they or I exist.
I think it's time. I think the bullshit about circumstances and upbringing is over. I think it's time to have some responsibility. You want respect, then give respect. It's that easy. Later.
I'm just going to say it. And this may sound mean. And I probably am being mean. I really am just being factual. But:If you are slightly more than obese and two inches short of being round, and you have barely enough self-confidence to fill a thimble, and you waddle rather than walk, and you have this perpetual look of misery on your face which can be confused as "needing to take a shit", and it looks like there are two midgets tucked into your ass...
please do not criticize my diet and fitness choices. Especially since you know that I have worked in the fitness field and have successfully lost and kept off a lot of weight. Thanks. Later.
When you work within a situation, especially a poor one, you tend to not notice how much it can affect you. I've been in my new position for only five days and the difference is amazing. Last night, I did my very last task for my old position at what I will refer to as the "new store". I had agreed to return to teach one last class and I delivered on that promise.
I dreaded the entire situation all day long. I so did not want to be there. While I was teaching the class, I was not having any fun. I got through it but I literally went through the motions. I smiled my way through but being there was not very pleasant. On my way home after class, I realized that I was feeling "light" as I walked away from the new store. I wasn't sure what that feeling was until this morning. You see, I felt so bogged down by the "negative" environment of the new store that I was falling into a sense of dread and doom. Unconsciously, I was becoming the person who I worked for and did not want to be.
This afternoon, a co-worker came over to give me a hug. He had been off for the past four days and he wanted to welcome me back. One of his remarks was that he was so happy to see the smile back on my face. A fellow co-worker said that he was glad to see the smile back too. I took a moment, smiled bigger, and thought, "Yup. I'm happy it's back too." Later.
On Monday, I start my new job. Three months ago, to the day, I started my last job. Yesterday was my last day. I am thrilled to be returning to the store I first worked at and to work for the person who hired me into the company. I've always said that what matters most to me is who I work for. With this last job, I took a leap of faith. Unfortunately, with some leaps you don't necessarily land where you want to. But, if you're smart, you look around and climb back out. Which I did.
I will miss only one thing about the last job. My friend, Samara. We'll still constantly see each other. But not having her on premises really is going to be hard.
I have a couple of days off before I start and I am going to take some time to just be with my husband. Maybe catch a movie. Definitely eat some good food.
I have already been thinking about my new position and the duties I will have. I have some ideas. Actually, I have many ideas. I had many ideas about the last position. Too bad that I never got a chance to use them. I think in this new position, I will be working with someone who will definitely give me a chance to try them out. Because, unlike the last leap of faith, I know there will be people there to catch me. Later.