Thursday, June 30, 2005

My Thursday night off from work

Nearly a hundred New Yorkers all went home with the same story tonight: Some woman had a seizure while I was watching War of the Worlds! It was the scene right before the aliens rose out of the ground. So it was quiet, the tension was building. Then a moan. I was a little confused. That didn't sound like it came from the movie. Then two men jumped up. One ran back calling for someone to get an ambulance. Another yelled for a doctor - the woman sitting beside him began to have a seizure. A woman two rows behind me was a nurse and ran over. There was a small crowd that began to build around her, but I stayed put. I was the last person they needed over there. A few people pulled out their cell phones. No one seemed to remember what movie theater we were in or the location. I think we were all a bit flustered. I talked to the woman beside me who seemed concerned but her husband pulled out a newspaper and began reading segments out loud, trying to decipher it's meaning. His wife and I wondered why they weren't shutting off the movie. Finally they did and finally, the police and ambulances came. By that point, she wasn't very coherent and kept vomitting. It wasn't pretty. It was actually a little scary. They put her in a wheel chair and took her out.

Then the movie came back on and about sixty five of us jumped out of our chairs as a car came crashing down on the screen. It was the loudest bang. The other thrity five laughed at the rest of us. I jumped, then laughed. It didn't take long though before we were all engrossed in Spielburg's latest film. The movie was actually quite good.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

one of those days.

Have you ever had one of those days sandwiched between hosting family and working double shifts, when you park your car and simply can't remember exactly where? And after walking around for almost two hours in the scorching heat stumble across a place you're 95% sure you parked it, and become convinced that it was towed or stolen? But after calling the tow company three times and realizing it's not there, know for sure it was stolen? And while on the verge of tears, since half your life is in the trunk since you're in between apts, find the car hiding on a street around the corner of your sister's apt? Just me then?

Upon finding it, Raul looks at me with weary and giggles in his eyes. He says, "I'm so annoyed with you right now". Fortunately, we found it on the fifth hour of looking - otherwise, I think those giggles would have been replaced with rage. Of course, I felt horrible and immediately went into a flustered talk about how silly human memory can be. I actually created an entire story of how I parked my car in front of a fire station, twelve blocks away, along the water's edge. In reality, I parked around the corner, no fire or police station within short walking distance, and facing away from the water.

I even took long breaks from work to look for my car. Of course, I will never tell my co-workers what really happened to my car. To them, it's towed. There seems to be more dignity in getting your car towed because you can't read a 'no parking' sign.

Then there was the less than happy incident I came home to on Monday. Raul had dropped an airconditioning out of a second floor window - right on top of the downstairs neighbor's air conditioning. Fortunately no one was hurt. Unfortunately, it was one of the most humid of New York days.

jumping and a doll hair salon

sometimes I wake up envious of dolls and their fancy hair.

Friday, June 24, 2005

A little about my girls

My girls are up from Philly this weekend in their cute, little NY hipster wear. My sister is the perfect hostess and has planned a whole weekend of activities. They left about an hour ago for the MET and after dining out tonight, they will be heading over to see the play, Slava's Snowshow. Tomorrow, we'll be parading around at the American Girl's something or another, then the girls and I will be watching Beauty and The Beast on Broadway. I know, I know - it's the only show that I thought they might like. At least, that's what I thought when I got to the box office this morning.

Anyway, I just finished washing the dishes from lunch and am enjoying a silent household. I am going to work in about two hours but till then, I sit. And breath through horrific pms symptoms.

This picture was taken last winter during a night of Christmas activities. Esther, the little chickie on the left, just turned 12 and has entered into that phase where hanging out with an older cousin just isn't cool anymore...I actually had to beg her to come over and bake cookies and decorate stockings with me. They're growing up too fast.

This picture was taken three years ago at Jenn and Raul's wedding. All I can say is, cute! But even though they're "growing up too fast", they don't age do they? Raul likes to joke that Esther's 12 going on 7. It always makes me chuckle.

Thursday, June 23, 2005


I'm going undercover. Apparently, going into my chosen profession also means having to keep your life extra private. I asked my professor about my blog and his response was, "I have a colleague who takes his wedding ring off before each session". Ok.... Anyway, I've edited some postings and took away my feels a bit lonely in here now.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

a girl's night in

I'm curled up on a friend's couch. Happily plumped up from dinner. I have a glass of Pinot Grigio sitting beside me and I'm listening to Lara putz around the apartment looking for the movie we rented. Fried Green Tomato's. I love that movie and she hasn't seen it yet. Though I have this sneaking suspicion that half way through, we'll go through a common routine of "oh yeah. I have seen this!"

She just got done showing me all the new shoes and dresses she bought. And as I sat here listening to her tell me the various reasons why she bought this dress over that shirt to match with those shoes because she didn't have that belt...I smiled. I love being a girl. What fun.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

many thanks to friends

5 am. My nephew decides to deliver this household, otherwise known as his kingdom, a wake up call. For me, that just meant rolling around in bed for the next half hour or so trying to position the three pillows on my head to keep out the crying but still allow enough room for me to breath. At some point, I got so tired that I decided to forgo air. One look at Raul this morning - I knew my nephew's wake up call meant a little more to him. Poor daddy.

8 am. I woke up to move my car. After an hour of driving around with no luck, I cursed street cleaning and wondered whether we really need to have clean streets. I decided to park at a meter until street cleaning was over.

9:012 am. I get in a little tiff with my sister - mostly because we were both tired and frustrated.

9:55 am. I said goodbye to a very close friend of mine who will be gone for about a month. I was very sad.

10 am. Supervision with my favorite professor.

10:15 am. Back in the car, looking for a parking spot. There was a lot more profanity during this time, but I don't want to be called a potty mouth again so I'm just going to allude to it.

10:36 am. #$@!#%$^##&

and then,

10:59 am. @#$@$^@#$#$^$.

11:15 am. I finally find a parking spot. It took so damn long that I didn't even care that it was in Illinois. I just called another one of my friends to bitch about the lovely morning I just had.

Sunday, June 19, 2005

a happy day for fathers

A friend of mine asked me last night if father's day was a sad occassion for me. Truthfully, I've never actually had to think about it. My father passed away when I was really too young to have been able to know him. Growing up, I guess I've simply accepted my life without a father, but still there are days when I would give anything to have one conversation with him. Especially now that I'm older and slightly more aware that parents were once people too - that is before having kids.

Anyway, rumor has it that I was my father's favorite child. I was a small, frail girl (in comparison to the robust woman you meet today) who my father would often keep from even my mother's anger. Sometimes when I sit with Andres, I wonder if my father used to hold me in the same way I hold him...the idea of it sometimes makes me a little teary but mostly, makes me feel all warm and giddy. For those four brief years of my life, I'm sure he was a wonderful father.

This is a picture of my mother and father on their wedding day - pre becky. Despite their appearances, they are usually a very jolly couple. It is amazing though when I look at these old photo's. My brother looks more and more like my father everyday.

and then there's daddy rockin' out in his wheels. What a stud.

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

poor men and dating

It's funny but I never really stop to think about how hard men have it in love and relationships these days. Usually, I'm too busy complaining about the silly things men can do at times - like scratch themselves and sniff their armpits. Just kidding. But I guess over the years, I've just taken a few things for granted - you know because I'm a woman who is under so much oppression.

I just had a first date with a guy, who like myself is a graduate student. The poor guy picked up the tab which I'm sure came out to at least a hundred and I of course made my obligatory offer to pay but he very gallantly refused. And truthfully, to accept would have been so...well, the opposite of gallantly. Here's the thing that sucks though. Women talk about first dates all the time and all the anxieties that go with it. Like, "will we hit it off?", "will he like me?", and most importanly, "will I like him?" - but in the end, their girlfriend's will always say - "well, if you don't, at least you get a free dinner out of it." How many men can say that? No worries though. If this guy wants a second date, I would be willing.

Oh - and did anyone notice that I didn't use one curse word??? Geeze, I think I've written many entries curse-free, but the few times I happen to say something 'bad' every now and then...I get called a potty mouth! How about I get some compliments for no cursing!

Sunday, June 12, 2005

Revisiting my first job experiences

How many of you can say that you have an actual running sink in your office at work? I did. See?

My first job out of college, I was a drug and alcohol counselor for "at risk" teens in San Francisco. I worked at Mission high school for three years. It was one of the more underperforming highschools in the city and for a person's first job - incredibly trying. By the time I left, two kids were shot and killed while others were injured from various gang related incidences. And I'm a little person. You take one look at me and you'll wonder what the hell I was doing there. I asked myself that many, many times.

Anyway, I worked with a great team of psychologists, therapists, nurses, and social workers. Together, we were the Wellness Center superstars located in the basement of the school. I wish that I could say our mural was shabby chic but I think it's better suited as - well, simply put, "shitty".

But the hall way to our offices is a bit more presentable.

Well it's been one whole year since I left that job and truthfully, I don't miss it one bit. The job was incredibly stressful with very little rewards. Of course I can think of a few fantastic stories and experiences I had while working with some of the kids. I had students rap to me and tell me their dreams of becoming greatness. I even gave my opinion on platinum vs. gold teeth. I always voted for gold because they felt more flashy. But overall, I'm glad to have moved on from that phase in my life. Besides how does one person improve things where a whole society fails? Many of the kids I worked with could barely read beyond a fifth grade level and few knew how to use a computer. It was so disheartening at times.

The truth is - first jobs are simply meant for you to hate life, face different existential truths, and become a jaded 26 year old so that when we're older, we are that much wiser. Or at least older with fun stories to share with those in their twenties.

Friday, June 10, 2005

waitressing gripes

I just had a party leave me a 10% tip off a bill of 250$ - that's so fucking lame in more ways than a million. That's all I'm going to say about that right now because my co-workers said that I need to let it go before my little head blows off. I just hope that where ever those people are, waitresses everywhere will spit in their waters, pee in their soups, and give them dirty utensils. Oh - and give them caffienated coffees instead of decaf. Patrons just don't realize how hard it is to work on the 'other side' and that screwing them out of a good tip can mean less drinking money for their waitresses. And after a double - don't they realize that drinking money is all that we live for???

And on top of that, while I love my co-workers, I had a line cook pinch my cheek (even though he's my height) and everyone else nickname me the "little one". Yes, I realize that I'm small in stature - but I'd like to think my personality more than makes up for it. I once had a guy tell me that he thought I was 5'7'' - and that my vibrant personality must have swayed his perception. There are those who believe he was just trying to get me into bed...but I know the truth. I'm just a big person on the inside.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

trying to spice up this blog

Lately, my posts have been lame. I know this, but nothing really seems to come to mind when I sit down at my computer. So I'm just going to try and write about whatever it is...

Ok. Here's a shot of some stories.

My nephew is still as adorable as ever and I took him to the restaurant where I work. He's been asking me where I disappear to every now and then. But he did his first naughty boy act. While he's usually very sweet and charming, today, when my cute co-waiter came over, Andres' little lips puckered up and he began to wail. I've never seen him do this and I panicked and ran out of the restaurant. He immediately settled down. I sat him down and looked him sternly in the eye. It was a grave situation. I said, "Andres, never scare away a cute boy again. You're job is to say to the world of cute men, 'come hither. Not only is my aunt fabulous, she's warm and nurturing'. This will not happen again." I looked like a frantic monkey trying to get out of the restaurant with a crying baby in one arm and a giant stroller being dragged awkwardly behind me.

What else....

ah. The world of on-line dating. Does this still carry a certain social stigma? I can't tell anymore because I know so many people who do it. And I dabble in it every now and then...and maybe every now and then do more than dabble - though I've only gone out with one guy. And it wasn't so bad. We're still friends. He's the hippest Korean guy I know or so he continues to tell me. Truthfully, I like to read all the personal ads on these things. I know this sounds aweful, but sometimes it just makes me feel better about my own dating life or lack thereof. In the end, I guess it's still comforting to know that we're all a little desperate for love and appreciation. Maybe there's nothing so pathetic about being desperate for love...maybe being able to own up to it simply shows a certain strength and resilience. Or maybe, this girl's just gotten really good at making reality sound so damn good. A clinical psych program's specialty.

on rabid dogs

My first day as a waitress, I was put on a double shift. It was Sunday and pure hell as there were only two waitresses on the floor (both of whom were new) and a party of thirty, half of which were little kids running in out from under the tables. Exhausted, I came home crying to my sister. And I cried about feeling like a fuck up, about boys, friends, and simply life in general. I think not having slept much compounded the situation...maybe just a bit. The next morning I got an email from Leah who is on an archeaological dig in Turkey. She just got bitten by a wild dog and fortunately, they were able to catch it. Apparently, they need to hold the dog for ten days to see if it's rabid. If it is, then she needs a few shots - right in the belly. It kind of made me rethink my own "miseries". ouch!

Saturday, June 04, 2005

on keeping your bottom clean

This morning, my mother gave me a lecture on proper ass wiping. She walked in to tell me something as I was having a 'private-becky moment' on the toilet and was horrified by my techniques. Her eyes were wide as she said, "You look like you are one years! Let mommy show you." And she proceeded to show me. I really felt like I was "one years" at that moment. I laughed so hard tears began to come out. I use small amounts of toilet paper frequently. My mother is a firm believer in a lot of toilet paper that can be used twice when folded. She said, "That way - only wiping two or three times!"

Here's a side note to walk away with. Korean immigrant families - like many other Asian immigrant families I imagine - simply don't believe in having private space. Boundaries are drawn about an inch around body. They like to get in real close. Growing up, it used to be a real pain - aunts coming over and barging into your room asking for favors at 6 in the morning or your mother yelling at you if ever you locked the door. Now, I don't mind it so much. Maybe it's because I'm older and don't see my family with the same frequency or maybe I just appreciate any tips I can get on keeping my little bottom clean.

Friday, June 03, 2005

Please be nice to bad waitresses!

Exhausted. Beaten down to the bone. Can barely keep my eyes open. Ouch. My feet hurt. My knees ache. My head pounds.

Ok. This waitressing job is going to kick my ass. Yes, I am exaggerating just a bit but I really am tired. I have a new found respect for wait staff and will never again bitch about slowness or missed orders. Mostly because I have this sneaking suspicion that I will be that waitress. I'm a little person that may not be built to carry big plates of food and drinks.

But what I can diagnose my customers. One of my customers clearly had a neurological impairment and his wife seemed to have a mild case of...I don't know aspergers - that I wasn't really paying attention to and how could I possibly know from that single encounter. It was their beautiful little boy who was there celebrating his second birthday. He appeared developmentally normal, but I wondered if he would develop something later in life. They were nevertheless a happy family, celebrating a happy birthday. Then there was the woman who came in and needed to lick the whole outside rim of her glass every time she took a sip. She was a bit fidgety and shifty at times, but I think she was just quirky. Nothings really wrong with quirks. Though everyone else thought she was pretty crazy. I guess having to explain the entire menu to someone can easily put you at risk for being called crazy by the wait staff.

I guess that's it for now. Oh, and my co-worker is super cute. We'll see if there's more to being super cute. Well, he's also got super nice going for him.

advice for a friend

My mom is visiting for the weekend, which is great because she's more than happy to take the baby during those wee hours in the morning when we should all be sleeping - despite what Andres thinks. This is the site I woke up to. My mom looks up and laughs, "Look, LibahKah, Andres liks tv!" I laughed and muttered something like, "oh Jenn and Raul are not going to like this." You can already tell the boy is getting that 'special' look on his face - that look when brain cells begin to die after watching too much tv.

I guess it's what happens when family babysits. Jenn and Raul must know that during my stay with them, I'm going to have to introduce my nephew into the becky world of candy. And that's a mighty big world... I already learned that he's not a big fan of salt. I let him have a lick of my cracker yesterday.

Anyway, so I finally slept more than three hours last night. The world always looks so much brighter through well rested eyes. It makes me feel that yes, I can lie my way through work. Truthfully - my first day of training yesterday didn't go so bad. But on Saturday night, I am going to try a bit of bartending. Who needs experience when you've got Bartending for Dummies?

So - does anyone have any advice before I go and make an ass of myself?

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

back on the east coast again....

I just spent the past 12 hours travelling. Nothing much happened during that time. Got in a car, hopped on a train, shuttled over to an airport, and flew back east. My shoulders hurt and are screaming for a nice rub, but since that's unlikely, I'm just going to tuck myself into bed. I actually have to get up and start training for my first waitressing job. That could potentially turn into a story...