Monday, November 9, 2015

goodbye, farewell.....

Sometimes I'm still angry. But nowadays I feel its dwindling down. Like it just lost its intensity. After all these many years, I realize that things weren't ever meant to be. I'm at a point where I'm actually on the outside, looking in. We were young, careless, experimental, rebellious. And in this careless mess, we created a child. Which led us to believe that the right thing to do was get married and start growing up immediately. It was right in the midst of our drinking stupor and drug experimenting. Abruptly halting....completely. To be instant mommy & daddy & play house. We were young.
Too young, too soon, too fast. I don't think we even knew each other. We had nothing in common. Our tastes in music, friends, styles, everything was wrong. Yet, we forced ourselves to believe this was what we were supposed to do. So we brought in more kids. Now a mother of 3. Back to back. Not what I wanted at all. I love my kids. But I didn't plan on them like this.
Years of trying to pretend we were happy. Only made us resent and hate each other more. It was a jail sentence. He reacted violently. I think it was the only way he knew how to cope. Still no excuse. I'm sure as hell not an angel either.
It all ended in betrayal and deceit. All at the wrong time. How appropriate when it all started wrong.
Looking back now, I'm not angry anymore. We weren't meant to be. He found someone like minded. And I eventually found my true mate. If only we knew how to end it without exploding. But we were too young to even know how.
It took over 10 years. For me to say, this, that we were great friends, we were horrible spouses. Things went downhill badly. And I couldn't let go of the hurt. Until this day, that betrayal still burns. But I can accept it now. I understand now.
We didn't love each other. I don't think we even liked each other. Can't say we didn't try.
Every game of house ends when the sun goes down and it's time to go home.
You were a good friend James E. Serrano, rest in peace...our babies will forever be safe with me.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Turning 40

It's going to be my 40th. It's been awhile since I wrote. I honestly miss it. But finding the time and the mental will is truly trying.
My goal for my 40th was not to be pathetic like I was for my 30th. At that time, 10 years ago, gosh, time flew....I was recently widowed. I celebrated my birthday by going to work and wearing all black to mourn my 20's. I had 3 very young children. I had given up my career and decided to do something a friend told me made good money, flexible and easy. I went to nail school. And shortly after, found a job. Mind you, I barely knew how to put makeup on, do my hair and def couldn't paint nails so this was an interesting direction to move towards in my life. It didn't help that everyone spoke Vietnamese and after 10 years, the only words I understand is em, pho and banh mi.
So here I am. 10 years later. I look back and I wish I can redo my 20's because it was a complete disaster. 3 kids by age 26, a cheating husband that died from his own destruction and his family who vowed to be there, did nothing but cause more trouble, problems and heartache.
My kids are now 19, 17 and 14. And I can't be more proud of my independent beautiful, smart children. I've remarried and soon celebrating our 5 year anniversary.
I gave up on a career change because I realize, I do love what I do. I meet people, with my gift of gab, I have lots of fun! It's flexible and my faithful clients take really good care of me.
I ended up focusing on me. I turned towards fitness. I was once a cigarette smoking girl who loathed living because of my own life decisions. I learned that it was up to myself to be happy. Not my spouse, not my career, not my kids, not money.
I used most of my energy running. Because I wanted to try it. I wasn't great, I wasn't fast and I certainly didn't love it. But I ran. I ran about 6 miles every night. I turned to fitness. And at one point, I wanted to do it full time. Then I started to hate it. I didn't want to be involved in the politics and in that circle of fitness gurus I was surrounded by. I suddenly felt like I had to prove myself to everyone and soon it wasn't fun anymore. I do miss being a trainer for a short period but I don't miss waking up super early.
From all that running, we got into 5k's. My husband, who hated it more than me, runs faster and better with beautiful stride. We then found obstacle races, mud runs, zombie runs, we did them all. Then we got bored. He found crossfit and left me behind and I resented him and crossfit. When we once did everything together, he would leave me out. I felt left out and I got angry. I resented him, and his gym. And he continued to leave me out of parties, and gatherings. Soon I found myself doing crossfit and loving it. Especially after a painful knee dislocation, I was advised not to run. I found my own gym and a slew of new friends! I still wanted to be a part of my husbands life and started to get depressed. When things didn't turn for the better I realize. Again. I need to find happiness. Not in him, my kids, my job.
So I did. I did things that made me happy. I eat at my favorite restaurants, I go to beach, I workout, and learning to do it alone again and loving the time I spend with the most awesome person ever, me.
So here I am. And my last positive goal I set was to be in the best shape I've ever been. I spent years trying to lose weight. I'd lose it and gain it back. It's been so frustrating. But I stopped and thought for a moment. Holy crap, I AM, in the best shape I've ever been! According to the scale, I didn't lose weight but my body has definitely transformed. I was giving myself such a hard time because my deadline was quickly approaching! I may not have the rock hard solid abs I wanted but I have abs. I have quads, I have traps, shit, I look damn good for 40!!!!
So my goal now? Look even more amazing at 50. And still rock my life with this badass contagious smile.

I grew up always not fitting in. I was neither girly or tomboyish enough. I wasn't Asian enough or white enough. I was never super smart but I wasn't dumb. I'm not ugly and I sure as hell not hot. I'm not dainty but I'm not rough.
I lived my life never fitting in. And never fitting in, is what I do best.

At forty,
My husband started a new job
My oldest started college and left for Orlando
She turns 19
My middle daughter, 17, is a senior in high school and just got her drivers license
My only son is 14, and started high school
We own a house, 3 cars, 2 dogs
We're not rich, we're not poor.
We are all healthy.
What a year this has been....
I can't wait to see where my life takes me next!

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Eating. Everything.

Nowadays, I've been trying to promote healthier eating habits. Posting it, preaching it, researching it...all because in my late 30's I got into my fitness obsession. Lately, I've noticed I'm not the only one. But most people are sticking to their healthy eating. Me? I just mention when I eat good. I can honestly say I don't practice what I preach and I won't pretend and I won't lie about it. Otherwise, my photos would be plastered on these amazing transformation fitness sites like Facebook, Instagram, & twitter. and I won't have fat day clothes where my favorite butt cheek hugging yoga pants with the large fold over band that covers my protruding belly.

I was raised Buddhist, so naturally I ate lots of vegetarian food. But I never considered myself a vegetarian. Everything just tasted good. Meat or no meat, good food is good eats. I had my fair share of eating meat too. I've eaten and tried so many different dishes, that it became a hobby. I wanted to try and taste everything. From pigs feet, tripe, chicken feet, oxtail, thousand year old egg, rabbit, frog legs, alligator tail, blood cakes, etc. This isn't all Chinese food. It's Jamaican, Indonesian, Japanese, Trinidad, Korean, Indian, etc. Different countries eat different things that may be foreign to us in America, but the norm, there. So who's to say it's gross if you didn't try it??? So I ate and tasted and tried everything possible. So there's my history of a foodie. So as I got older, as a meat eater, I slowly started to eating less and less meat. Then I decided, hmm...lets do this. I failed. I still ate chicken, tasted pieces of steak I'd cook for the kids. I was bullshitting myself. After seeing countless documentaries on how our meat is produced, I decided to stick to my guns. The eye opener was "Earthlings" narrated by Joaquin Phoneix. I now look at meat with disgust. It smells good, I can't lie, and I'm sure delicious as heck but no thanks. Being vegetarian also kept me from eating crap I really didn't need to. So when I go out, I'm forced to really think about what I want to eat. I still eat fish, & eggs. I can't go vegan because honestly, that shit is hard. I'll bake or cook vegan for fun sometimes just because I like to prove to my kids that we can eat a fulfilling meal and not have meat. I don't force them into eating vegetarian but I do force them to eat clean. And although they hate it sometimes, they're also glad that I do.

I was never overweight. Except when I was pregnant. I hit my 30's and realized my metabolism left me like my shitty ex husband. Only his was better for me. I met the owner of my gym one day, and it took some convincing before I became obsessed. I want to try everything, yoga, Zumba, pole dancing, CrossFit, running, obstacle racing, boot camp, you name it. Well....except kangoo. That looks dumb. It didn't matter if I'm any good, I just want to know what it's all about.

So if I kept my eating to a minimum I'd actually look like I worked out. But no. So a few months back, I ended up in beast mode. I worked out at two different gyms, 6 days a week. I was eating ok, but I was in awesome shape! Then I suffered an injury. What happens when I'm off track? I eat. What happens when I'm depressed? I starve. I didn't get depressed. So I ate. I gained weight but no one noticed. If anything, they think I lost weight! Thanks people, I lost muscle. Thanks for noticing.
My knee is finally getting better, so watch out world. I'm trying to get back in that frame of mind, but as I was eating my way through healing, it dawned on me.

All this strict eating. Am I having fun???? No. So guess what? I'm not entering a competition to be IFBB. Ever. I do run my races and join challenges so its imperative I stay eating clean. But I'm not going to make it my mission. I want to enjoy, eat, live, smile. Who knows, I say that now, but once I get to working out more, it might change.

There's just sooooo much good food. I wanna eat. Everything. But I don't wanna look like Honey Booboo's mom. So....I think I have no choice. Gym time people. Work hard, eat good, laugh harder. And sex. None of us doing that enough.

Special thanks to a new friend, Jahaira, for making realize I'm not alone & I have a twin. 

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Rotund Turkey

Well, this 2012 Thanksgiving we decided to drive up to the Carolina mountains. My mother in law has become a prepper/survivalist. They've built their house to be so self efficient, even their poop waste gets composted. The last time we were there, the small, one bedroom house wasn't ready. This time, not only were they pretty settled in, they have goats for milk, rabbits for breeding AND eating, ducks, beehives, and the cutest Austrailian shepherds ever! 
Her garden/land has been so fruitful, she's been kept super busy canning and dehydrating everything. Meanwhile, the five of us, stayed in the grandparents old 3 bedroom house down below. So everyday, we'd trek up and down the mountain. Which wasn't so bad, if it weren't so cold and the huge amounts of leaves that made it slippery and also his the fallen trees, stumps, rocks. Especially in the dark. Don't wear running sneakers either, they don't help.
Thanksgiving morning, I wasn't expecting a traditional thanksgiving meal. My mother in law always told me she never cooked. And explained that was why her kitchen was so spotless.
Well much to my surprise, there sat a beautiful roasted turkey, the green bean casserole, stuffing, cranberries etc.
Apparently she's been cooking! 
Staying up there the last 3-4 days was so nice. It was living minimally. I'll call it no frills living. Because by the 2nd or 3rd day, you really didn't care if your hair was brushed because no one saw you nor cared.
We visited another small town close by called Forest City. We thought it was a tree lighting. It was a Xmas lighting of their downtown area. These people were really nice. But huge. Huge as in, extremely large. Like, I can't believe they have clothing that big huge. Which reminds me. We stopped by their local Walmart, 30min drive from where we were. It is already an incredible place to people watch down in Florida. But man oh man....I spied a guy that was built like that main character of the storybook "Where The Wild Things Are". His hair was long and shaggy, he was tall, large and sloppy looking as can be. He had a mom too. I felt like a supermodel! But in all honesty, any place that's not a big city, an Asian chick like me is always sure to stick out like a sore thumb. Sometimes I feel like a circus freak. People like my white husband will never get it. He can be thrown into anyplace in the US and never feel awkward. Put me in a mountain, or in small Florida city. Very uncomfortable. But when I spot a Chinese restaurant I feel better. Until I see that they are FOBs. Then I'm ashamed.
After the long silent drive home due to a stupid argument. We made it home. There's nothing like being home. Taking a long hot shower with wondrous water pressure. I scrubbed my hair with a grin and washed my privates like I was a 1 year old in an old diaper.  
What I wanted most? To literally dive into my bed and melt into my mattress as my cozy blankets and pillows envelope me in my fabric softener scent.
How spoiled are we? In North Carolina, the beds we slept on felt like cardboard and being used to a king sized bed, their little full sized bed felt like I was sleeping in a matchbox.
Now, I look around as I settle back in civilization, I want to change how I live. We truly are spoiled and wasteful. So I ordered a rainwater barrel, bought that countertop Composter I've been eyeballing for a month. Shutting off lights more often, making sure things end up in the recycle bin, be wary of packaging and reuse.
Unfortunately, the way I make a living contradicts what I want and believe in. I'm a nail technician. So much water used for manicures, pedicures, electricity used for esthetics, the paper/plastic wrappers for sterilizing, the countless empty water bottles that go into the trash. The chemicals.


So this year, I'm thankful for realizing how wasteful not efficient I am.

Friday, August 3, 2012

I'm deformed

I've been thinking about this for so long. Body types. There's the skinny, the athletic, the bodybuilder, the chunky, and the squishy.
Most people's first impression of me is, "Wow! You're thin and so fit!" But what I see is I'm chunky and I can lose a few more. Granted, we are all extremely critical of ourselves. We are our own worst critics. That is why we have so many men and women who fight insecurities via relationships & Facebook!
I'm here and I'm confessing to my own nastiness here. I may be at the weight I'm supposed to be according to my age and height (according to BMI). But I'm quite squishy. Squishy to me, means, poke my butt, it's squishy. Poke my belly, it's squishy. Get it?
Anyway, I'm not fat. But I certainly don't think I'm skinny. I've had 3 children. Can't say I was health conscious back then. I ate like a fat cow and I looked like one. Not exaggerating one bit. You know, when you're only a few months along and everyone thinks you're having twins and towards the end of my pregnancy, I actually outgrew my maternity clothes. Meaning it was stretched beyond belief and ready to bust at the seams. Yes. For all 3 kids. And the doctor told me I needed to be on a diet. When I was pregnant. So you get the idea and an image now, correct? If not, think of that woman in that Gilbert Grape film confined to her couch.
Well after birthing these can I put this? Ever blow up a balloon and deflate it? Well that's me. Except with some air left in it. I inherited these ugly stretch marks everywhere. Especially in my tummy area. We're not talking about lightning bolt looking discolorations. I'm talking about the rivers. The ones with indentations where Helen Keller can run her hands across my abdomen and gasp!
So, I've been working out and changing what I'm eating the past 4 years. It definitely was NOT easy. Still isn't. But I'm learning still. I've lost some weight and I've gained it back. But I also found endurance, strength and muscle tone I have never had in my life. I started running 5ks that lead to some insane obstacle races. I'm turning 38 next month. I have to say, I'm quite proud of myself.
But going back to my belly. And the deflated balloon. I'm so uncomfortable with myself that I can't even go to a beach where I might bump into anyone I know. I even reached a point that if I DO know someone who will see me in a bikini, I give them full detailed warning about how ugly my body is. I will not wear a tankini or a one piece. They're ugly! Although I've been checking out the pinup style swimsuits. I'm afraid they'll make my squishy ass look rather large so that kinda halted that search. Plus, they're expensive! Anywho, I have this extra skin. If I lay on my side, I get that belly spillage. Or if my jeans sit below my belly, it hangs over unless I suck in or pull my pants over my belly with the belt hoops. If I'm on the toilet, I pretend I'm plastic man. Or is it Elastic man? Either one, I pull on my belly, grab it, pretend it's playdoh. The more weight I lose the more extra stretch marked skin hangs. If I gain weight, it's not so bad but then I get the muffin top. If I'm nude and place both hands on my sides and use my fingertips to pull the skin, I have the perfect belly.
Tummy tuck you say? Even a mini tuck? I went to a cosmetic surgeon. They said I'm not in horrible shape. That clients that they usually get are more overweight. They said because I'm not that big, there's not a lot of skin to pull and cut to do a tummy tuck to make a difference. If anything, I'll end up with a worse scar going across instead of up & down marks.
That being said, and the breakdown of costs after those consultations made me sad. Even if I went for it, the amount of money for it to not guarantee to take even most the marks away was not worth the pain and healing process. That means no working out either.
My only means to solve this issue is to lose body fat and build up muscle. Because if you see muscle, and a truly fit body, you can overlook those marks right???
Most people who are trying to make me feel better about it, tell me those are marks I've earned from creating my children. Or however they try to put it to make it sound so poetic. It doesn't work. I see women like Brooke Burke on the cover of Fitness magazines and I want to hate them! I'm so jealous! I've also heard that stretch marks are genetic or something like that. Whatever. I'm pissed. And I ate a huge sugar free brownie from whole foods today. That's not going to help me decrease body fat but it made me happy.
I used to live with the philosophy that I should just be happy. I should eat and drink and smoke and live vicariously. Then I see old people that are suffering with things they've could've prevented. And then. I started working out. And then I saw 80 year olds running faster than me. And then I see 60 year olds who can do what I do at the gym. And then I realize....I want to be happy with myself.
And it's hard. When I see even my husband gawk at gorgeous naked or half naked women. Maybe they were photoshopped but still. I don't think photoshop can save me.
So what's better?
I see so many chubby girls wearing things maybe a 4 year old should and walk around confidently.
How did they get to be like that?
Some heavier women commented that they'd be happy to be my size even with stretch marks.
And I'd be happy even if I was slightly porky and no stretch marks.
They can still wear bikinis and not have to cover their stomach area with their arms or towels.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Country Mouse City Mouse

I recently visited the quaint town of Savannah, Georgia. It was a nice light jacket weather. What NYC offers in the Fall or early Spring, unlike the year long summer weather of Florida with a touch of blasty coldness which lasts a total of a week combined.
It was so nice. Cobblestone streets, bike riders, runners, frisbee players, random people standing on corners chatting about the current events.
Then you meet my husband. Texan born, Florida raised. The type that grew up in white picket fence neighborhoods, no crime schools. Him being law enforcement for a low income, crime ridden city where people don't respect even their mother, or sister. Yea, the type you see on COPS, where they screw even their own sister's man and gets pregnant while they themselves are married. Also serving the military busting big time drug deals. I'm sure after years of this has made him quite aware that the world is not so friendly afterall.
Myself, I grew up deep in Brooklyn, NY. I went to HS & college in the city. I've learned to avoid certain places, types of people at certain times. Street smarts, something most people in Florida doesn't have. I let my guard down which is why my husband thinks I'm naive & "unaware of my surroundings". Honestly, I don't care. It's not the same.
This summer, I'm planning to finally take him around NYC and have him see my old stomping grounds. Where I grew up, where I hung out, my friends, family, the bars. I'm so excited. I usually crash at my moms and visit friends. This time I might have to suck it up and hit the god awful touristy spots. I'm dreading taking his paranoid ass thru crowds of pushy ny'rs. Im either going to be arguing with him or pulling him thru crowds. The dirty city. The immigrants. The best dirty restaurants. The smelly alleyways. The horrible traffic. The multicultural rudeness. This will def be an interesting trip. I can't wait! This is my home. My place. My territory.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Road Trips

GeoTagged, [N32.44322, E80.72440]

I'm really starting to like these low budget quick trips we take. We rent a car, drive off and it starts off uneventful. The more tired we get the dumber we get. Start singing songs and talking about all sorts of BS. Sometimes it leads to really retarded, pointless arguments, sometimes it's just reminiscing or current events.
I guess it's our bonding time. We're stuck in a car for hours. It's either make the best of it or stab him.
Everytime we take these trips, we plan these one day all around town excursions so we hit all the spots and see all the sights within a few hours. This requires an itinerary of what we want to see and mapping it out. Then we either drive or foot it everywhere. It's tiring but fun. Every vacation we've taken includes a self portrait of us both in front of some monument or scenic background.
It's become a necessity.
So. Now we're in South Carolina. After some hotel room wrestling (no, not sex, actual wrestling), we'll plan our trip for tomorrow before we head home. For now, I'll google some hot spots and nap before this wedding starts.
Think I got a bm. Yes. THAT bm. Homemade corned beef hash & grits are moving.