Pulled In Many Directions

Not-so-daily rambings about my life and my thoughts

Sunday, June 26, 2005

Real Life Getting In The Way

It's been awhile since I last wrote. Part of me is starting to tire of blogging, as more people that I know offline read my blog, the natural feeling seems to be reduced. I might start to write for an audience, start to censor my true feelings, and who wants that? (Not that any particular prose was especially inspiring or thought-provoking before.) This blog at first was used as a sort of junk drawer of sorts and I used to dump things out and give it a good reorganization frequently.

But I still am enjoying life very much here. I should blog more about my happiness, but maybe I'm feeling that happiness is fleeting, or it is easier to take for granted. When I am confused or upset, I tend to blog more in hopes that by doing so, I can move on after expressing my feelings as much as I want to.

I've been busy this weekend with groups of friends, singing, watching movies, eating a lot of good food. It's been a great time. I had a full weekend and if that's what it takes to be happy, so be it. I am not looking forward to tomorrow, however, even though it's only a three day week, and I have Play-Doh ready made in the fridge for the kids to play with during their art lesson.

Anyways, if I decide to switch names or something, I will let most of you know.

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I'm leaving when I get tired of looking at the (new) Bank of China Building, the triangular prism-shaped one on the left. It looks especially cool lit up at night.

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

I'm Definitely Not Used To This!

Today's weather:

Currently 89 degrees Fahrenheit. Feels like 101 degrees.

Tomorrow's forecast:

High of 91 degrees Fahrenheit. Will feel like 104 degrees.

I woke up this morning feeling severely dehydrated. (Guess my air conditioner wasn't on high enough) and had to stay home just as a precaution. It was raining outside just two seconds ago but apparently it just made everything feel worse.

Monday, June 13, 2005

As Excited As Greg Focker

Tomorrrow, I will start the first round of meeting the parents of some of my kindy students. I'm kind of nervous as I don't really have much of a portfolio put together for them to show off their work (but then I never really was the one responsible for deciding what art work went home and what stayed anyways -- that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.) and I'm also nervous cause I wonder what these parents expect of me, and what they expect of their children as well.

I had one mother write me today in the parent-teacher handbook and she basically asked me to tell her how she can raise her son who always makes excuses and never listens to her. This boy is really good when it comes to math, scraggly when it comes to writing (but hey so was I, and I haven't murdered anyone) but socially, is like at the 3 year old, maybe even two year old level. Im not sure if this is because he is an only child (he may very well not be) or there is something not quite right there with him, but really, who am I to tell her how she should raise kids?

Sometimes I hate this profession cause it's so uber-serious, and I made a very poorly received joke about how all I knew really were cats and whenever a cat misbehaved I knew you should spray it in the face with a spray bottle of water, and so I could recommend that my student's mom do that.

I thought it was funny.


There are a couple of parents whom I can not wait to meet. I want to say to one girl's mom that I hope she follows in the footsteps of Junichiro Koizumi. She is just that bright. Not just smart, which involves intelligence only but bright, where there is a clear mix of intelligence and self-confidence and happiness from within. I hope she grows up to be a really cool person, someone whom I could actually read about in a newspaper.

And there's another boy whom isn't so sharp in the intelligence field of things and does seem to carry on in his own little world half the time, but the one thing I really like about him is for a 4 year old, he has got a lot of quirkiness about him and I could see him grow up to be some kind of writer or performer or...hell, a Japanese-style Andy Warhol even. He's a really sweet boy who is truly unique and I like him quite a bit for that as well.

His parents though I think might be trying to curb him from any story telling. He told his parents he ate a curry-hamburger (?) for school lunch, and his parents were completely curious about that. He also told his parents there were fire ants infiltrating our school. OK, that's not such a good story to tell. If his parents can teach him the difference between the good story to tell (We went to the Moon today) and the bad one (about a student beating him up) then he might be able to support them in their old age with the multi-million multi-book publishing/script writing deal he could get.

But then this is also the same boy who every day comes in not knowing how to cover his mouth when he coughs or sneezes. So maybe his parents should work on that first before they start him on any creative writing courses.

I hope to be able to tell how tomorrow and Wednesday went later.

Saturday, June 11, 2005


What the hell has happened to my comments section? The link to leave one has all become a funny short blue line.

Anyways, contrary to what Scott suggested, I did not party non-stop through early Saturday morning. I had a bit of a break, and in that break was that lovely thing called work. It actually wasn't that bad a day (after I got into work 10 minutes late cause I was moving in two speeds -- slow and stop -- that morning and then I had to have some coffee from Pacific Coffee.) I didn't have to resort to the Quiet Game once.

Last night, we went out for dinner and then my roommate who had a harder night than I did Thursday left us to go home. We tried to get into a club at Central which supposedly is famous for having Chow Yun Fat as a regular patron, but as we were turned down at the door, we instead went to Wan Chai to a club which apparently is famous for its underage drinkers. Now, I look young, but it was scary how much I felt like Grandma in there. I didn't even want to take a chance on hitting on any of the guys there, if they were at all like the girl a friend of mine overheard in the bathroom: "I *just* turned 17!" she said to no one in particular, all excited she got into the club.

Funnily enough, interspersed with the young kids, there were some...mature guys hanging off to the side. They stuck out like sore thumbs, and I wonder if they were there looking for a lucky break, as in a meeting a naive girl who has just drunk too much vodka that night. That's just sick.

I'm not much for dancing to R and B anyways, but they did play a song I had really liked when I heard it on a commercial in Korea, but didn;t recognize who was singing. Turns out it was Gwen Stefani's "Rich Girl." So now, after eating a required breakfast of grease at McDonald's, I'm trying to download it.

Thursday, June 09, 2005

Next Stop Malaysia

Well just for a week in July.

After a really rocking night out with the girls as it was my roommate's birthday (complete with making up hand actions to songs such as Bohemian Rhapsody -- we're not kindy teachers at all! But yes, we were certainly drunk by that point.) I got home to find my tickets had arrived in the mail.

I'll be headed off to Kuala Lumpur and Penang.

I'm really looking forward to going there. Also really looking forward to tomorrow night as well, where we'll go out more properly. Tonight is Thursday and tomorrow is going to hurt.

Monday, June 06, 2005


My inner child is ten years old today

My inner child is ten years old!*

The adult world is pretty irrelevant to me. Whether
I'm off on my bicycle (or pony) exploring, lost
in a good book, or giggling with my best
friend, I live in a world apart, one full of
adventure and wonder and other stuff adults
don't understand.

How Old is Your Inner Child?
brought to you by Quizilla

*What can be said though, when at 10, your outer child had begun to ovulate. Besides, "Bummer!" of course?

Sunday, June 05, 2005


After hearing so much about Finding Neverland, I decided to rent it tonight and watched it with my roommate. At first it was really good. I liked how J.M. Barrie was portrayed by Johnny Depp, as a sort of overgrown big kid and there were some cool effects used when they envisioned themselves on the high seas or in a special place that came to be known eventually as Neverland.

It was a good movie, but one I grew to hate watching as it also dealt with a set of boys who lost their father when they were quite young and then to make matters worse, they later lost their mother to a really bad lung disease. I was absolutely horrified by the way the story turned out; I knew it was based on actual events, but I actually pleaded with the writers to Hollywoodize the ending, to make sure the boys would live a happy life with their mom, because it just wasn't fair that they had to face a long life as orphans. That is exactly what I thought: "This is not fair they are taking her away from them. They are too young to deal with this again."

The ending just hit too close to home for me, and I just started to lose it in front of my roommate, and I hated that. I was brought up to always put on a brave face, to not ask for help. Showing emotion was a sign of weakness. I lost my mother as an adult, only two years ago at the end of this month, but I can almost say that she had been dying literally since I was very young -- her Multiple Sclerosis progressed year after year, until she was virtually a vegetable when I was starting high school.

When I was younger, I used to have such a vivid imagination, but I know I was preoccupied with death and loss as well. I sang odes to my mother's plants when they died. I liked to imagine myself and my brother as orphans, I once pretended I was abused for play. I eagerly read the "Milestones" section in Time magazine because (as I told a neighbor of mine) I thought it was interesting how people died. I was roughly 6 years old. What a sick twisted kid I must have been. It wasn't like I was looking for sympathy, it wasn't like I was even acting out what I literally knew, but maybe, just maybe, in my 6 year old world, even though I imagined my family life to be like that of the Brady Bunch, I knew something was just not quite right. Maybe I just picked up on my mother's sadness and decided to act it out. Maybe I felt, when I was pretending to be a dragon or and elf or an alien that something that any other world was better than this one. I don't know.

People have told me and my friends that I seem unnaturally happy, that I am perky, blah blah blah. But I told my roommate tonight, and maybe this is true, I'm like Annie (of "(The Sun Will Come Out) Tomorrow" fame) on the outside but Wednesday Addams on the inside. I have a lot of sadness and...no not sadness. Sadness is what happens when your boss tells you off. It passes. What I have is grief, a long lasting sadness. And I don't know how to work it out. I don't know if there's any support group I can join or if acting in dramas (Ibsen anyone? How about Chekov?) would help me work through this. I know my family is made up of my father and my brother, a bunch of "manly men" who don't like to talk about how they are feeling. I really wish I could talk to them about this, but it's just not something that is done in our family. We are New England born and bred, descendants of Puritans to be sure, and you know how those people liked to emote.

I really don't know if I will ever fully get over her death. I could write a book on her relationship with me, how she was as a parent, how I felt stressed that she wanted me to be her caretaker when I was 10. I remember her getting pissed off at me for not trying to lift her off the toilet into her wheelchair. (Keep in mind I was around 10 or so. How the hell is a child supposed to lift up an adult with two dead weights in the form of legs attached to them?) I remember her sadness when the marriage fell apart and I had to listen to her tell me about how hurt she was about everything that happened within the three years, start to finish of the divorce, and how I longed for her to stay coherent enough to be my confidante when I got older.

She was someone so preoccupied with my love life, when I was younger someone who wanted to see me with a boyfriend (she never saw me with my first long term one) and even though it annoyed me to no end when I was in high school, I know I'll hurt a lot when and if I finally marry and have kids because I know that was so important to her, and she will never be around to see it for herself.

In any case I really miss my mother and I long to talk with others who may have some inkling as to what sort of feelings I am going through, as I am going through them myself.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Looking Forward to a New Show Already!

With Lost on its hiatus until September, or October (in any case, a really long time -- sniff sniff!) I found a show which might -- just might -- stand in as a good...standby until the second season starts.

The 4400 is about a group of people who were abducted over a period of about 50 years. In the present day, people are shocked when they see what looks to be a comet hurtling toward Earth. But then their fear turns into bewilderment when the comet slows down and gently lands, offloading those 4400 people who went missing. What everyone finds out later is that these people have returned a little more...special than they were before their abduction.

People have called this a cross between Close Encounters of the Third Kind and X-Men. I just hope it's relatively watchable. If I think about it, when I've seen a few episodes, I'll give them a quick review.