Nurse Morgan is my favorite character on my new favorite show, The Mindy Project.
When Mindy got her ass emotionally kicked on the latest episode, he gave her this sage advice: Whenever you get your ass kicked – whether its your literal butt-ass or emotional heart- ass, “I think of the best, strongest version of yourself and never tell its name to anyone else. . . whatever he is doing to your warrior, he is not doing to you.”
Mindy’s warrior’s name is Beyonce Pad Thai.
My literal and emotional asses have been all over the place lately and more often than not, I’ve found myself down and uninspired. I think I took a blog hiatus because I don’t want to fill posts with more excuses about being burnt out/busy or complaints about this SAD time of year. Because despite my lackluster demeanor, everything is going really well for ST and I. My health has improved so much since dropping (currently) fifteen pounds. Ever since I drastically reduced the amount of sugar in my diet, I’ve gotten normal menstrual cycles that women without PCOS experience. I’m comfortable in my own skin now. It feels kind of amazing.
Things at our new church are great. We’ve joined a small group, volunteered in Red Hook, and are socializing and becoming a part of this new community. I feel like the women I have met thus far bring out the best in me. That is not something I can say easily. I actually have several inspiring, positive, and beautiful women in my life who challenge and strengthen me. And on top of that, I have ST. I’m a really lucky girl.
In the aftermath of Sandy, Kim’s hospital is currently shut down. They’ve lost one billion dollars and decades of cancer research. So she has had a lot of down time and we’ve been bonding over episodes of Dexter and delicious dinners.
Work is work.
So… I’m not sure why I haven’t been posting; I just feel pretty bland right now. But from here on out I’m going to make the effort to write. Promise.
Images via Wistfully Tumblr.
Life has been both great and overwhelming.
Work is in full swing, so of course I am exhausted. Despite planning 2-3 weeks ahead and being as organized as humanly possible, I still feel the itch to keep working. I’m definitely like my mom in that way – perpetually multitasking and keeping busy. When we get home in the evenings, ST and I cook dinner and lay out watching TV. Believe it or not, this luxurious and exciting lifestyle does get old.
I was really, REALLY happy to have an extra two days to enjoy the last days of summer this weekend. It’s been a great weekend so far.
Tommy and I recently started exercising together. Its good to spend time with him. I’ve known him for four years and he’s my brother-in-law, but in truth we are little more than acquaintances. We talk, lift, and run. He’s training to join the Central Park Track Club so yeah… he’s a lot faster than me. Think Speedy Gonzalez and Slow-Poke Rodriguez.
The Verrazano Bridge might look close but… it isn’t.
Speaking of relatives that I’m getting to know more, we’ve been spending more time with my cousin Ronald. Our moms are sisters and are very close so growing up, my sisters and I would spend lots of time with Ron. He went off to Virginia Tech (the year it was shot up) and we lost touch for a while. After hanging out in Ocean City, we started hanging out again and its been super fun. He has grown up to be quite a guy.
ST found this picture in one of my mom’s albums. That’s pretty Joanie in the background and me and Ronald a few days before his birthday. This picture was taken on ST’s birthday. He looked like a cute mini version of Jabba the Hut but he is such a skinny-mini now. This is an iPhone picture of a picture, so excuse the shoddy quality.
Helene and I had another one of our marathon girl dates this past Friday. We walked for miles and miles, window-shopped, ate Indian food, and ended up at Forever 21 in Times Square at midnight. Dinner and a skirt set me back $22. Perfection. Its crazy that we reconnected less than a year ago and are so close now.
Her diamond stacking rings are so dainty and beautiful.
Today, as ST and I were walking along 8th avenue (also known as the Brooklyn Chinatown), I happened to look down and spot a teeny, tiny little plastic spoon on the ground.
This miniscule dose of whimsy inexplicably cheered me. So adorable. Thank you, tiny litter bug.
After my maternal grandfather died on September 2nd, I think I’ve become more attached to my paternal grandmother. She is now my only surviving grandparent.
ST and G, circa two years ago.
This one was after our trip to Rome in 2011 because he’s wearing his Roma sweatshirt.
She took care of Kim and me when my family lived on the Lower East Side. She has all these funny little stories about baby me with my Toisan accent. I remember I got burned with a cigarette by one of my grandfather’s poker buddies while he was playing a game. On one of our many walks in Chinatown, my grandma bought me a set of tiny horses on the street in Chinatown. One time, I stole a bunch of her quarters and when she found out, she still let me keep a few. What did I need quarters for? I was like five. My grandparents and I used to go to P.S. 140 and eat the free lunch there together. Once I got older, I stopped going with them. One time, we were sitting and she told me about how my great-grandmother abandoned her. She began to cry and I remember not understanding why. I remember the story though. Way back in the day when she could still knit and sew, I remember she’d sit at her giant industrial sewing machine and I’d hear the sound of a blouse being made or pants being altered. When I was in junior high school, she made me a pair of baby blue bell bottoms. They were the shit.
Last Spring, with my mom.
I see so much of myself in her. I inherited her poor eyesight, petite figure, and unruly hair. She loves makeup, getting her hair and nails did, and pretty outfits, much like yours truly. Grandma is also feisty, catty, sarcastic, and hilarious. I’d like to think I am also. She can be mean and rude when she doesn’t get what she wants. Sound like anyone you know? Interestingly, she doesn’t enjoy the company of other Asians, especially her roommate, who is a kindly Chinese woman. She is fiercely protective of those she loves. She’s a lioness.
I wish I learned to speak more Toisan so I can share that with her too. I can say “Are you hungry?” “Give you” “Give me” and a handful of other similarly useless phrases.
I always leave her feeling glad and a bit sad; glad because we hung out and sad because I can’t take her home with me or do anything more for her.
This is probably a good point to end my rambling.
2011 was full of blessings. We traveled, bought a new car, saw my sister and brother-in-law get married, and celebrated our first wedding anniversary. ST and I are starting a new tradition by highlighting the events of the year that is about to end.
I’m not big on new year’s resolutions, mainly because I forget about them. But in 2012, I’m committed to growing in the following ways (previously explained here):