No, Don’t Do That to Me, Please…or I’ll Go Lisbeth Salander on You.

"If you touch me, I'll more than alarm you."--Lisbeth Salander

I watched “The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo” last night, a date with myself. Movies, solo is a great experience, and I’ve been doing it since I was 19 when I finally didn’t care to wait around for a man to ask me out. So, with my loving husband hanging with our kids at home, I dressed nice, slipped on my boots and headed out into the rain.

Hormonal, eager to see the American version to compare with the foreign pioneer and the book (which I only read ¾ off), I marched into the AMC theater. I reached the ticket collector and knew I had exactly five minutes to get into my seat—I hate being late for anything.

What I assessed of the boy in the red shirt was that he was young enough to be my son, shaved head, and scrawny. I didn’t look at his eyes because I didn’t feel the need to register him into my database. I was scanning the left and right sides of the theater, making a mental note of what numbers were on either side, so once this guy told me the number I could bolt. What I didn’t expect was his fondling of my hand.

“You’re in theater 11.” He returned my ticket into my left hand, pressed it into my palm, then held my hand in both his. I half stepped forward when he then traced his cold finger on my left hand, slowly and with enough pressure to get my attention. I should have looked into his eyes then, but I was taken aback and not flattered, but mad. He released my hand and I beelined for my flick, finally. “Enjoy your movie," he said to me as I walked away.

It took a few moments to analyze his amateur move. He must do this to all the ladies, I reassured myself. Self-deprecating, I usually am. (Yoda speaking, I usually am not).

Once the previews cleared and the seats filled up with latecomers, the opening credits of Dragon Tattoo started, I got fuming again. It didn’t help that Immigrant Song blasted with crazy good imagery. I thought, would the 19 year old me be flustered and beguiled by this boy’s textbook move? Maybe. Would my daughter, when she’s allowed to date (28 years old) fall victim to this stroke of flirtation? I hope not. Am I overanalyzing again to the point I have to blog about it? Perhaps.

*Don't watch the opening sequence from the movie below-SPOILER ALERT-if you want the full effect in the theater. And, I won't be surprised if this is taken off Youtube soon. Enjoy otherwise...



Nonetheless, I saw that he was replaced when I emerged from theater 11 by a female ticket collector. Good, I thought. With raw imagery of the movie I just absorbed, he was safer not being near me. No threat of physical harm, but maybe a death stare.

On a side note, I met the actor who played a bit role as a cop, Alan Dale (Lost, Ugly Betty). I approached him as we both waited at a gate at LAX in 2009, told him I appreciated his work. He has a few minutes on screen with Rooney Mara.

Happy Chinese New Year! Year of the Dragon….

ESTA LATER!

Cut the Red Wire or the Blue Wire!?

"Man cannot remake himself without suffering, for he is both the marble and the sculptor."~Dr. Alexis Carrel

I’m excellent in keeping contracts, my word, a promise to others, but….not so much with myself. I guess it has to do with the fact that I can forgive myself and make the breach “okay” in my brain. I know how to rationalize and feed myself propaganda that it’s okay to not uphold goals for myself. I hold the key to secret clauses that the buyer (myself) didn’t know—the fine, fine, fine print. Escape clauses are detrimental to any real progress. I know this.

My life is a non-stop movie that I can’t set aside or pause. I have to constantly be PRESENT, entertained by my sometimes mundane life. There are no other points of view I can have, just this one lens, my point of view.

Am I whining? Yes and no. I’m just exploring why I fall into the same traps. Maybe I’m afraid of real adventure. Maybe I’m really boring at the core. I like to think of myself a warrior, a goddess, but I think I’m more a wallflower. I call for spotlights, “Here! Here! Look at me!” Then, upon receiving it, I flake, panic, fold into myself.

I guess I’m excited this year because the yearning for more is real, attainable and it’s sitting right in front of me. I just have to brave and confident and wise enough to snatch it up.

So…

I’m going to start small with a manageable goal. Baby steps as the saying goes. Perhaps a goal or two for a day or week that I can hold true. I may have to write it down, but not here….sure, I can blast this goal on the internet to friends and such so if I do fail then the “public” can hold me accountable, but I don’t function that way. Notice, how I’m already putting in place safeguards, detailing the fine print.

I’m just working through some tangled wires, because I want to figure out why the same patterns of behavior keep emerging.

Thank you for letting me vent.

Goal of writing….attained! Off to other goals.

LYRICS for Sia's Breathe Me video...fitting
Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before
Hurt myself again today
And, the worst part is there's no-one else to blame

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Ouch I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,
Yeah I think that I might break
I've lost myself again and I feel unsafe

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

ESTA LATER!

New

"Birds flying high, you know how I feel,
Sun in the sky, you know how I feel...
it's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life,
for me...and I'm feeling good."--Anthony Newley and Leslie Bricusse 1964

New Dawn, New Day, New Year

So, I really took a break from blogging because of November’s National Blog Posting Month. But, I did enjoy life so much more in December and I wish I could have blogged about every wonderful moment, but I just have some highlights.

Las Vegas, Circus Circus with Guam cousins and my family was rejuvenating. Two days was all we needed, although we wanted more. We got away from it all, without having to go too far away. We would definitely stay at Circus Circus again. We dabbled in light gambling, hit the buffet once and mostly spent time with our kids at the Adventure Dome. My children’s stuffed animal collection grew by 30 in the two days. We love the crane machines!

Then, we recuperated in a day and a half and cleaned like mad because my best friend since 1994 drove down for a two day visit. I felt 19 all over again and the first place we hit (after the grocery store) was a coffee shop, like the good old days. We learned about each other again (it had been almost 5 years since we were in the same zip code) and enjoyed that our children enjoyed each other’s company. My husband had some guy time with my best friend’s hubby—they cruised in our classic car and tried every flavored beer in the fridge.

Then, Christmas eve and Christmas day festivities really brought the celebration home. Gag gifts, fun with board games (Disney Head Banz—a hit--thanks, Liz and crew!)

and great food and wine, made 2011 end with an exclamation point.

I love new mornings, new days and new years because a fresh start and an improved attitude makes hope for more wondrous experiences a real thing. The holidays are my favorite time of year.



Happy New Year and ESTA LATER!

Reflecting on 30 Days of My NaBloPoMo Commitment.

“I do not wish women to have power over men; but over themselves.”—Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley (Mary Shelley)

I guess I feel a sense of accomplishment at completing 30 days of daily posting. Thank you to those who have followed along and new readers who stumbled upon…and hooray that my husband is officially “following” my blog now.

I am quite relieved that this is my last obligated post of the month, since the HOLIDAYS have descended across the land—times are hectic. Manic Christmas music pushing me forward to choose suitable, meaningful, memorable gifts for my loved ones. Today alone, I’ve filled my arms with gifts, only to put them back on the shelves (not always the right shelves, YES! I’m one of those people, except I draw the line at perishables).

Moving on…this daily posting of National Blog Posting Month forced (not the best word), maybe encouraged me to dig deep and write on topics I normally wouldn’t share. I enjoyed when topics came easy, dreaded when I couldn’t share something more entertaining. But, I need to remember that I write for myself first, then the other Gods and Goddesses in training. It was nice to read comments from new people and reaffirming comments from family and friends.

All month, I’ve been wanting to post a picture of this dark gray bird (I’m not an expert on birds, so I don’t know her make and model)…I say she, because as a woman (and speaking for other women), we tend to get too critical of ourselves. So, this bird visits almost everyday and attacks its reflection in the shiny hubcap of my husband’s classic car. We call the car Angel--a 1946 Chevy Fleetmaster.

I’ve tried snapping pictures of this bird from my kitchen window. I creep around Angel when I get home from picking up my son from school, the clinking of this bird’s beak on the hubcap tells me she’s at it again. I was unsuccessful at catching her “on film” figuratively speaking, but I have witnessed her many times with this ritual of pecking at her reflection. My daughter thinks it’s funny, I think it is too, but there’s a bit of sadness there. I feel like I sometimes peck at my own reflection. I’m not satisfied with something. This happens daily, sometimes more magnified and depressing than other times, but it’s there.

So, as this year comes to a close, I’m trying to get a head start on adjusting my attitude, my self-perception and elevate my feelings of self worth. Don’t worry, I won’t be joining the little bird in banging my head into my husband’s shiny hubcaps, but I continue to be a GODDESS in TRAINING and I think it’s fine to not be satisfied, to yearn for more. Because one who is 100% “there” is bluffing. And, if I ever get to be 100% “there”, then maybe I’ll be at my peak and not need a BLOG, I’ll finally have the Bruce Lee glow. (Next year is the Year of the Dragon—his year, my mom’s too). Anyway, so easy to be sidetracked by Master Lee. I hope for a nice close to 2011 and a fiery, evolutionary, memorable 2012. I’m sure I’ll write again, even though I need a bit of a break thanks to NaBloPoMo.

I have learned more about myself this past month and hope you folks have picked through my ramblings to find your own nuggets of truth (thanks, denise for the “nugget” term)….until then, don’t peck too often or too hard at your own reflections. And if you have to, use a helmet.

ESTA LATER! Thank you NABLOPOMO and BLOGher!
I love Wonder Woman and Lynda Carter, classic! I'm going to run around everywhere with this theme song in my head, don't laugh.

Breakfast with My Daughter...Day 29 of NaBloPoMo.

“And mothers are their daughters' role model, their biological and emotional road map, the arbiter of all their relationships.” ~Victoria Secunda

About twice a month, my three year-old daughter and I enjoy alone time at IHOP for breakfast. I order something yummy and she does the same, typically a chocolate chip funny face. She proceeds to eat only a third and I gripe at the cost of it, but then quiet down as I realize the bigger pay off of time together.

When we wait for our food, my daughter grabs my creamer to build. She creates bridges, fences or castles and is very intent on making it just right. When I snapped a few pictures of her in action she exclaimed, “Wait! I’m not ready yet!” *I once caught her, when she was about 1 1/2 years old, under our dining table with a Yoohoo drink box castle. Future architect?

Sometimes, she brings in her stuffed animal, or her “kids” and sets up a mini table for them. She uses her crayons as utensils, the mini creamer as a cup and then insists that I place a small piece of egg or bacon as their meal.

The IHOP staff is wonderful and welcomes us on our regular visits.

I watched my daughter today, really watched her. She cuddled next to me between her chocolaty pancake bites and I wondered if we would be like this in 10 years? 15? After she is married and a mom? The prospects of this made me smile.

Enjoy your quiet moments with the ones you love. I am. I do.

ESTA LATER!

Monday Blah...Day 28 of NaBloPoMo.

Sort of having a Thanksgiving hangover--stuff to do, things to accomplish, Christmas tree to set up. Maybe I’m still bitter because I didn’t have turkey on Thanksgiving day. How do you get things done? One step at a time. How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.

So, this flimsy, shallow post is all I can muster for today, since my kitchen is being rearranged to fit my new Cuisanart grind and brew, 89.00 bucks at Big Lots! Hope my heavy hand doesn’t break it. I was known as “stomper” growing up (tagged by my father).

Computer off, so I can deal with the world in my immediate reach.

So, off to be housewifey, domestic goddessy and so forth.

Random, but here’s Christina Perry’s “A Thousand Years”


ESTA LATER!

Happy 71st Birthday, Bruce Lee...Day 27 of NaBloPoMo.

“As you think, so shall you become.” –Bruce Lee

I must admit, I love me some Bruce Lee. He’s been my ultimate role model since I was a kid. My father is to blame, having Bruce Lee movies on in the house every weekend. By college, I had the entire movie collection on VHS, a few years later, everything on DVD. Blu-Ray? Someday. I have numerous books and even Pogs! Remember those?

I’ve analyzed my fixation on Bruce Lee, his son, Brandon Lee too, many times before—several college papers on the topic. It could be our Asian connection, my love for martial arts and the way Bruce Lee embodied a strict, disciplined mind and body that I still strive for.

This time last year, I was in San Francisco with my family. The eight hour drive was worth it, knowing I would be in the city Bruce Lee was born, 70 years prior. I got my first tattoo (tiger-designed by my brother, latte stones in a sling stone-shaped like our Guam seal-added by me) a few streets off China Town. I was amazed that my tattoo artist and others I spoke with loved Bruce Lee, but didn’t realize that it was 1) his birthday and 2) his birth city.

Nonetheless, I admire Bruce Lee. He would have been 71 today. I’m sure he would have looked exactly the same and have the same fire in his eyes. He may have had a few more movies under his belt, but would NOT have been a Hollywood sell out. I follow his Facebook site, run by his daughter, Shannon and it was a nice reminder post from her that her great father was born today.

So, to Bruce Lee. Happy Birthday!




ESTA LATER!