Hmmm…

Over the past few days, I think I’ve kept a good balance between eating healthy and enjoying myself.  It’s easy to go too far in either direction, but I think I’ve been able to find a good, comfortable middle ground recently.  And no, this is no diet; my aim is to adjust my eating habits for the long haul.  It’s part of a fitness goal, and thankfully my friends are involved in this too, so we help keep each other on track.  Would hate to be the one to let them down.

So there’s that.

Oh, and I guess there’s the fact that I’ve still stuck with this blogging thing.  And I did an inception french braid (braids in braids).  That was pretty cool.  But that’s pretty much it.

Oh yea, and I took this picture (below) and I really like it:

Okay.  Now that’s it.  :)

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My goals for February are simple, but important.  Being an impatient results-driven person, in order to maintain motivation to keep moving toward my long term goals, I know I need to complete these successfully now.  Failure to reach these intermediary milestones will hugely discourage me from dedicating any more energy toward achieving larger goals.  In runner speak, I’ve got to hit my splits.

In short, I want to be more fit, more creative, and less broke.  I can run marathons, but I can’t do even 2 real pushups.  I write for a living, but never for myself anymore.  I financed someone else’s lifestyle (to standards higher than mine), but now, I can barely afford my own.  These things shall now be remedied.

In short, I want to be more fit, more creative, and less broke.  I can run marathons, but I can’t do even 2 real pushups.  I write for a living, but never for myself anymore.  I financed someone else’s lifestyle (to standards higher than mine), but now, I can barely afford my own.  These things shall now be remedied.

I don’t expect any of this to be easy.  No lifestyle change ever is.  But seeing some of that suffering as an indication that progress is being made will make it almost pleasurable.

Yes, I’m that person who looks forward to feeling the soreness from a hard workout.  And as much as I dread routine, I smile as I drag myself through this new daily blogging ritual.  Seeing results of my work, be it new muscle definition or the consecutive blog entries, makes it all worth it.

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Some might find their athleticism extreme, but in addition to this, these kids are some of the nicest, most generous people I know.  They motivate me to keep up and keep going.

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1. Sex and the Marathon: Why runners make better lovers

When I accompanied my dad to various trading card shows, as he would scope out sports cards, I occupied my time browsing through the comic book cards.  I learned about Wolverine’s tangled history through obsessing over which X-Men cards I was missing out of my collection, and quickly chose him as my favorite of the X-Men clan.  His brute personality appealed to my stubborn side and I liked that he was something of an arrogant smart ass.

They seem like complete opposites, but at the same time, both odd, badass outcasts I wished I could be.

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All these places have their moments…

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From conceptualization to final composition, answering this question feels overwhelming, frustrating, and above all, embarrassingly demonstrative.

Where do I start?  What do I want to say?  Aside from completing this project, what do I really want to do with this?  What do I want out of this?

I want to focus on those I habits I’d like to embody instead of the ones I’d rather be without.  But every positive seems to originate from a negative.

I want people to want to read this.  I want to give an audience of readers something, anything, be it reason, inspiration, or maybe just the feeling that they’re not alone in feeling what they feel.

I bet people want to read something insightful.  Or humorous.  Or maybe, at the very least, endearing.  But I’m no good at any of those, so why bother even trying to start down one of those rhetorical paths.

Damn. I used to be good at this.

Admittedly, this undulation between negativity and ambition is – unfortunately – very much my norm now.

It is rare for me to be decidedly adamant about anything.  But when I am, I can achieve decent results.

Which is partially why I committed to completing this 30 Day Blog Challenge.  Not every post is going to be up to par, but since I’ve committed to the task, I’m determined to satisfy the one-post-a-day requirement.  I need to get out of this mental rut.

But for now, since time is ticking away – I am cutting it close tonight – I’ve gotta call it.  It’s not where I’d want it to be, but oh well.  G’night, folks!

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These are a few of my friends (Byong, Marvin, Warren, & JJ)… and our infamous drinking contract, which was drawn up on the back of a paper placemat one drunken night (not that we need motivation to drink). I haven’t known them for very long, but we drink together frequently and when we do, these guys have my back.

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But I am almost positive that is not why my parents chose it.  As far as I know, they simply made a list of baby names they liked, and eventually, they whittled it down to “Candice.”

And I’m not being cynical; I’ve seen the lists.  They kept it in my baby book with my sonograms and newborn pics.  When I was  younger, I used to review these lists to see what other names I could have ended up with.  I also used to dig through the baby name book and choose other names that I’d rather have instead of mine.  I thought that I could simply swap out my name for any of the others they listed as “related names.”  I was a weird kid.

“M” stands for my middle name, “Mieko.”  Even though I rarely use it, I’ve always taken a liking to my middle name, which I see as the Japanese part of my name.  It’s pronounced “mee-eh-ko,” and means “beautiful, blessed child” and “already prosperous.”  Again, doubt meaning was the driving force behind my chosen name.

And “Yee” is my last name.  It’s Chinese, and I’ve been told it’s a pretty common Asian last name.  According to Google, it means either “person, he, she” (meh…boring) or “change, easy” (fun!).

“Cowhateration” is my handle on Twitter and elsewhere.  It’s pronounced “cow-hater-ation,” as in “the state of being a hater of cows.”  This name originates from a family vacation and is actually kinda mundane.

The summer after high school, I was on what my dad deemed my “last vacation with the family.”  We went to Hawaii’s Big Island, and if you’ve never been there, I recommend you visit.  On the Big Island, life is lived at a slower, more chill pace than on the mainland.  It’s just how it is and it’s the perfect way to enjoy a vacation.  But I digress.

On the Big Island, we frequently spotted cows along the roadside.  Being from the city, at first we were excited to see “wildlife.”  We’d all try to be first to yell out “COW!” upon each animal’s sighting.  But after a few days of cow sightings and in the middle of a long road trip to South Point (the southern most tip of the Big Island and the U.S.), I spotted a cow and instead of excitedly yelling “COW!” I unenthusiastically moaned “coooowwww…” My mom abruptly turned around and asked me “Why do you hate the cows? Are you a cow hater??”

Thus, “cowhateration” was born.

And just to clarify, I don’t actually hate cows.  Actually, I love them… medium rare, please! :D

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002.  I’m half Chinese and half Japanese.  When I was little I thought this was really cool.  Come to think of it, I still do.  Some things don’t change, yea?

003.  To date, I’ve run 8 full marathons in 6 states and 13 half marathons in 3 states and 2 (non-US) countries.

004.  I really like absinthe.

005.  I actually love to sing.  I’m not very good at it.  And I probably won’t do it in front of you.  Unless I’m really drunk.  But even then, it’s kinda unlikely.

006.  I used to know how to play clarinet, saxophone, flute, and oboe.  Now I only play guitar.  And not very well.  This too can be added to the list of things I probably will never do in front of you.  Even while drunk.

007.  I used to study and compete in dance (ballet, tap, jazz, & hip-hop).  I was supposed to get pointe shoes in third grade, but instead, I decided to quit because, as I told my mom, I wanted a social life.  I was spending 5-6 days at the dance studio taking and assisting with classes, and I didn’t think that was how my life should be at all of 10 years old.  Seems logical now, but seriously, what third grader says crap like that?  This one, apparently.

008.  I went to school at University of California, Santa Cruz, and was the speaker at my graduation ceremony.  GO BANANA SLUGS!  During my time at UCSC, I majored in American Studies mostly because 1) it allowed me to study popular culture, jazz, hip-hop, and African American history, and 2) I didn’t have the chemistry chops to be a biology major successfully.

009.  In college, I got to take a course taught by Ms. Angela Davis.  If you don’t know who Angela Davis is, please Google her.  Yes, she was an activist who was associated with the Black Panthers.  Yes, she is still rocking the ‘fro.  And yes, she is still a badass.

010.  I will usually coo at a baby animal before I coo at a baby human.  While watching YouTube videos of puppies, kittens, and baby bunnies, I have been known to erupt into a fit of cooing, squealing, and giggling.  And if I watch videos of soldiers reuniting with their dogs after years abroad, I will eventually cry.

011.  I only like interactive babies.  No lumps-of-flesh infants.  I like kids coherent enough to play and interact with.  Who will say I’m the best.  And give me the validation I seek from the younger demographic.

012.  I learned how to drive stick just so that I could buy my neighbor’s MR2 Spyder.

013.  I love drawing nudes.  Nothing more beautiful to study than the human body.

014.  If I haven’t gotten enough sleep, I am incredibly bad at making decisions, no matter how minor.

015.  I have always had a thing for analog photography, or as it used to be called, “photography.”  Y’know, with film.

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<dream>
It’s my wedding day.  And don’t ask why I’m dreaming about weddings; it’s not an event I foresee taking place any time soon, so this wasn’t one of those worrying-about-a-real-life-event dreams. (Seriously, don’t read into it.  You’re wasting your time.)

Everyone’s hustling around, I’m in a too-good-to-be-true dress, and you can feel that big event buzz in the air.  I was with my dad and we were making sure all the little last minute details were taken care of.  Also, we had to take a helicopter to the wedding site… (again, don’t ask; apparently I dream big).

As I go to make one last pre-nuptial pitstop at the ladies’ room, I realize I have no idea who my husband-to-be is.  And that’s when that  I run outside and ask my best man.  (Yea, also, I guess I have a best man, not a maid of honor.  I would.)

He shows me a picture of my fiancée, and I don’t recognize him at all.  He’s not a friend, not an acquaintance, not even a face I remember seeing at a bar.  ”Who is this??!” I ask my best man.

He starts rattling off details about him and how we met. But he could offer me no details about me and him, mostly just details about him that my best man knew through a friend of his.  It was pretty much as effective as Facebook stalking.  Cue panic.

</dream>
And when I woke up, at first I thought “WTF Candice? A wedding dream… really?”  But it’s relevant, I guess.  I mean, marriage is a something I’d like somewhere down the line.  But I guess my subconscious has a good point.  Don’t marry strangers.  Stranger danger.

I dunno.  The initial shock of it has now faded, but it was the scariest nightmare I’ve had in years.  And frankly, it was enough to get me back into writing for myself; that in itself just might make it worth it, yea?

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