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| i've made some "new year's resolutions".....as in, these are the six things i must accomplish before january 1st, 2009:
1)
do 15 pull-ups without stopping. currently, i can do three. lame, i
know. but i've been increasing one pull-up per week, so taking into
account a few slacker days, 15 consecutive pull-ups by the new year is a
reasonable goal IMHO.
2) finish reading "crime and punishment." long overdue.
3)
pass the level 2 krav test. this test is scheduled for mid-november.
talked to one of my instrs recently, and we realized that with all the
traveling i have to do for work this next month, i basically only have
two weeks in september and then two weeks in november before the actual
test to train. so i gots to step it up. train twice a day, every
day. train on my own. train in my sleep. difficult, but not
impossible. just the way i like it.
4) i've recently been introduced to reggae. me like. a lot. i plan on being a big reggae fan by 2009.
5)
secure a different job, whether that's a different position within the
same company, or a different company all together. in a different
state, or perhaps in a different country. whatever's clever.
6) clear up some confusion. i am the queen of ambiguous
you-know-whats. unfortunately, this is the resolution in which i have
the least confidence in achieving. sigh. fortunately, if i can
accomplish #3 and #5, then #6 might be moot. haha.
MOON CAKES.....YUMMM
How do you respond to your critics who say that six words is just too long for a memoir?
We
would say that six words is just right. It breaks down beautifully into
two threes, three twos, one long idea, or six separate words. Six is
symmetrical and soulful and the source of so much literary magic. | | |
| had a fun convo with a coworker today. she asked, "if you're young and
single, why the heck are you living/working in northern virginia?" i
exclaimed, "i know! i've been thinking the same thing! i should be in
iraq/pakistan/afghanistan/oneofthestans!" she replied, "oh, i just meant you should move closer into the city. better night life."
took the trash out tonite and heard lots of yelling from a nearby
apt bldg. went over to investigate. turns out a mom was yelling at
her kid outside the bldg. all sorts of swear words and hurtful stuff.
the kid was maybe 10 years old. the mom was yelling about how she
wasn't gonna put up with his crap anymore and how stupid he is, etc,
etc. the kid didn't say a darn word. just stood there and took it all
in. it made me so sad. yes, parents should discipline. but sometimes
i wonder.... did he really do something that bad?
if i had a guy with me at the time, i would have asked him to walk
over with me so we could ask the mom/kid if things were "okay." just to check
in. that would have been optimal. but instead, i just stood in
the shadows, listening to the yelling. sigh.
COMMIT TO THE VIOLENCE! i know that sounds wack, but hear me out.
one
of my krav instrs who happens to be a cop by day said this to us. his
point was that when it's not possible to run away, which is always
ideal, then you need to decide whether or not to fight. if you decide
to fight, you must commit to that decision. you must go all the way.
if you're gonna pull some half-assed moves, you might as well just lay
on the ground and let the other guy pummel you. i'm a big fan of this
concept. the committing, not getting pummeled. and i definitely don't
wanna end up on the evening news. so... COMMIT it is. now if only i
could
apply these commitment principles to life outside krav. haha.
ok, change of subject. i stole below picture from the
sartorialist. not only does this guy snap brilliant pictures, but he
also adds captions/commentary with insights that leave me breathless.
sometimes i wonder if perhaps the women of our generation are mistaken
when we say we're looking for a mr.darcy. i wonder if perhaps we
actually desire a mr.gatsby. chill out, i know that's not what the
book is actually about. i'm just wondering, that's all. and the poem
has also been in my head as of late. the things we do for others.
hmm....
Then wear the gold hat, if that will move her;
if you can bounce high, bounce for her too,
Till she cry "Lover, gold-hatted, high-bouncing lover,
I must have you!"
On the Street....Gatsby Moment, Paris
 | | |
| the gift of fear
one of my favorite krav instrs only
teaches on friday nites. he's been on break for the past few weeks, so
we were all ecstatic to see him tonite. of course, his drills kicked
our butts. we all wanted to die afterwards, but it was totally worth
it. this guy's class was the first one i attended when i started
checking out this school. at the end of that first class, one of the
other students said to me: "if you come back after this guy's class,
then you are meant to do krav."
at the end of class tonite, our instr gave us some homework for
next friday. lemme back up a bit and explain what happened tonite that
led him to assign this homework.
after the ridiculous
conditioning drills, he taught us some moves to use if someone picks us
up off the ground. every big guy/girl was paired with a smaller
guy/girl. as soon as my partner picked me up, i panicked and wrapped
my legs around his waist and just started randomly striking his face....
lesson #1: never EVER wrap your legs around your attacker when
he's got you up in the air. cuz even if he doesn't know how to fight,
he'll know to use his weight against you and slam you to the ground.
which hurts. trust me.
lesson #2: never be "random," unless you have him under control, and even then you should still use good technique.
toward
the end of class, i commented that as a small female, getting picked up
off the ground is one of my greatest fears. if i'm "based" standing up
on solid ground, i'm confident i can put up a good fight. but when i'm
in the air, not so much...esp if i panic. so here's where the homework
part comes into play: our instr told us to make a list of scenarios
we're most afraid of, and he promised to start teaching skills tailored
towards addressing those fears.
here are some worst-case scenarios i thought of on my drive home
from class (cuz i'm type-A and always complete homework right after
it's assigned, even if it's not due for another week), in no particular
order:
1) getting lifted up off the ground
2) getting lifted up off the ground and then pinned to a wall (still in midair), perhaps simultaneously being choked.
3) getting attacked while wearing a skirt and stilettos, esp ones with ankle straps that i can't easily kick off.
4) getting attacked while i'm with someone more vulnerable than i, e.g. small children.
5)
getting attacked from behind while i'm bent over a sink washing my
face, and then having my head slammed down into the basin.
6) getting attacked from behind, period.
7) getting attacked in a small space, e.g. restroom, car, elevator,
thus preventing me from using the "nike defense".... RUN LIKE HELL
i
realize that's a lot of fears, and my list isn't even complete. it's
true what they say, that there's a fine line between being prepared and
being paranoid.
then i got to thinkin, perhaps i should make a list of stuff i'm
most
afraid of, in addition to being physically attacked. but perhaps i'd
be too
afraid to see what and how much is on that list, pun intended. last
nite, something happened on the home front and i flipped out.
literally, had a meltdown. in hindsight, i realize i probably
overreacted, but in all honestly, one of my greatest fears in life is
that something will happen to my family over which i have no control.
breathe and think while you fight
this is one of the first things we learned about fighting. it's not:
breathe/think, and then attack. nor: attack, then breathe/think. nor:
think, then breathe, then attack. nor any other order. one must
breathe AND think WHILE fighting for one's life. and one must never
stop breathing nor thinking. unless one is dead.
why
is it that i remember to breath and think during krav class, but not
after i receive that dreaded call from home? why do i panic and
immediately start doing random things to remedy the situation, only to
find myself slammed to the ground (minus the 250lb man on top of me)?
one of the cops in class recommended i read "the gift of fear,"
which
is required reading in many police academies. oprah also approved it,
so i'll be sure to pick up a copy soon and report back. =)
i'm interested to learn how fear can be a gift and our ally.
and, fyi, even if you do get slammed on the ground, there are ways to
fight in that position. use the guy's strength against himself. dig your thumbs into his eyes. then jump back on your feet.
What she experienced was real fear, not like when we are startled,
not like the fear we feel at a movie, or the fear of public speaking.
This fear is the powerful ally that says, "Do what I tell you to do."
Sometimes, it tells a person to play dead, or to stop breathing, or to run
or scream or fight, but to Kelly it said, "Just be quiet and don't doubt
me and I'll get you out of here."
"This above all, to refuse to be a victim." | | |
| He
wishes he had never entered the funhouse. But he has. Then he wishes
he were dead. But he's not. Therefore he will construct funhouses for
others and be their secret operator -- though he would rather be among
the lovers for whom funhouses are designed. | | |
| two accomplishments this weekend:
1) PAINTED MY TOENAILS
recently, someone told me i had ugly feet. my argument is that
taking the extra effort to beautify my feet is akin to making my bed
every morning. no one but me sees my bed (TMI, haha) and i only wear
closed-toe shoes to work, so the only person who really sees my feet is
my 80-year old chinese teacher on weekends. plus, most of us do krav
barefoot. so why in the world would i waste time on my feet? but my
friend had some good rebuttal arguments, so i picked up a bottle of
nail polish this weekend, slapped on some ruby red, and forgot all
about it until i was in the shower this morning....looked down and
thought, wow my feet are so pretty! knowing me, i'll probably just
leave the nail polish on the same way some folks leave their
christmas lights on all year round. haha.
2) LEARNED HOW TO SHOOT (A GUN)
one of my coworkers took me to the shooting range this weekend.
he's an NRA instr, and i'm so grateful he took the extra time and
effort to walk me through everything. turns out i'm pretty darn good!
not trying to brag; just stating a fact. haha. apparently, the broad
shoulders i'm so self-conscious about actually serve me well in aiming
and controlling the gun with the recoil and whatnot. perhaps that's
why da big man also gave me ugly feet. the better to kick you with, my
dear. muahaha
* * * * * * *
i find it fascinating that so many people see femininity and
strength as mutually exclusive. why is that? je ne comprehende pas.
since there aren't many females in my krav class, we've all gotten to
know each other fairly well. one of the things i love best about these
ladies is that we'll all show up in skirts and heels and makeup, and even while we're stretching we'll be talking about babies and
baking and boys....but once we step onto that mat, it's like we flip a
switch....then GAME ON. i like that. why can't we just be who we wanna be? why do we have to be so darn rigid in our definitions of everything?
* * * * * * *
i met a husband-wife pair recently, and the husband told me all about
the orphanage in the middle east that his parents run. i thought to
myself, i wanna go work for your parents. and then i said that
out loud. and he said, "well, you say the word and i'll call my
parents." i asked, "seriously?" he replied, "seriously. i'd totally
vouch for you." and i said, "doode, what about my job? it ain't that
easy, you know." and he said, "doode, quit your job. it is that easy."
OH, TEMPTATIONS | | |
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