A Strangely Charming Birthday Wish

I just read this today and getting onboard with it as quick as I can though I’m a little late. Put it to “Hawaiian time.”



Happy birthday wishes to Joanne Heim!



Again, I don’t know Joanne personally, which is the "strange" part of this celebration shout out, because we're strangers to each other. I only know her from listening to Grounded with Ryan Dobson and a couple Family Talk programs. I didn’t become aware of her blog until just about a month before her tough ordeal began but her blog has become a good friend that I like hearing from every so often. I'm inspired by her writing, by Toben’s writing about her, by their apparent faith, by just about everything through her blog. My first post about her ordeal is here.

So. Since I don't know her and don't know how to write more about her, here is my small thanks in the form of this post.

So. The theme is charm bracelets. When you read Joanne’s blog, you can instantly tell that she must have a lot of charms and not just on her bracelet. [Did you like that one, huh…? ;) ]

Years ago, I started making my own bracelet. I mean, I MADE it. I learned how to connect links to make the chain, I made it to fit my wrist, I searched out some charms for it.

Bear with me because it’s been a while since I’ve taken out my bracelet. Earrings and rings are my usual jewelry of choice so I don’t think I’ve worn my charm bracelet even once yet.



The charms on it are:
The Japanese symbol for “Happiness”
A pair of slippers [or what you mainlanders call “flip flops”]
An eighth note pair
Strawberry
Soccer ball
Airplane
Spider
Hawaiian turtle design
A quarter moon

Of course, each one has a meaning for me.

As someone who lives with anxiety/ depression, “happiness” seems like a myth at times. I am also part Japanese. The slippers remind me of being home in Hawai’i, even though I wish I could walk barefoot everywhere instead.

I love music, almost all kinds of music. In school and church, I was involved in choir, band, symphonic wind ensemble, and marching band. I love listening to my friends sing and was asked to help write songs at one point- still sad that the song-writing didn’t go through but I’d still like to try one day. It’s on my 40x40 list. I also have a memory of the time that a former boyfriend played the saxophone for me, before we got together- the charm is partly for him too.

The strawberry reminds me of things I like- I like strawberries! That is simple enough. One year, Dad’s coworker went to Hilo for a day, work related, and Girls’ Day had been two days before. Dad arranged for his coworker to pick up a dozen strawberry mochi from Two Ladies Kitchen for Mom and me! Yummmm! I wrote about it here.

Ahem, the soccer ball… yes. I… have a thing… for soccer players it seems. My brother and “brothers” played soccer when we were growing up, my dad coached them one year but I don’t know that it has anything to do with why I like soccer players. I don’t watch pro-soccer, I don’t really care about Beckham except that he has talent I hear. I have liked guys at school whom have played soccer. So this soccer ball charm reminds me of Dean first, and then my other former, Chris. It’s not that I have any attachment to them beyond friendship but that they were a significant part of my past, of who I am today.

The airplane is for all the trips I’ve been on but most specifically for going back and forth from home and first college for three years. I love to travel but I love being home more.

The spider reminds me of my friend and a hilarious moment; at least, it was funny to me. Mom found a huge spider in the house one day. I am okay with pretty much any bug except for roaches- will not go near a roach, even if it’s dead. So I bottled up the spider and took it to the Entomology department at the U to find out more about it. It was a typical cane spider, probably female. I put it in the backseat for the time being and went to pick up friends for an event. B in the backseat picked up the bottle. All we heard was a loud scream! And then big laughter from me and I think it was Julie in the passenger seat? B calmed down after that initial shock and even looked at the spider, as long as it remained securely enclosed. I let the spider outside when I got home again. I dug deep in my photo files for this pic.

The Hawaiian turtle design charm is to remind me of Chulo and his daughter J. When he told me he had a daughter, I think one of the first things I sent for her was a Hawaiian Green Sea Turtle [Honu] doll. She’s a bit older now and they live on the mainland so I’m not exactly sure what she’s into these days. I still send a turtle thing when I can.

The moon is for Popo from a part of her name. She died when I was barely two and all I remember about her is her funeral yet I have always sensed a strong connection to her.
____________________________

There you have it, my bracelet with charms. I need to find more to fill it with- there are so many more things and people that I’d like to carry with me. So don’t feel poorly for not being represented on my bracelet yet ‘cuz I’m not done yet!

Here’s a pick of a bracelet I sometimes wear. I got it from my favorite Jules. I like elephants also and these jingle-jingle!



Once again- Hope you have a jingling good birthday Joanne!

Mahalo for reading.
[Click on an image for a larger view]

The Coming Attractions

Just as I am trying to put relationship talk out of my mind, Friend brings up the topic [as it related to a situation for Friend which I shall keep private]. Something in the conversation led me to think of Mo, I don’t remember what it was exactly.
____________________________

I was out one night with a coworker friend, Teeth. Teeth introduced me to all of his friends.

The introduction to Mo was brief. It seemed like he was distracted with looking for someone else. I think he barely looked at me, which wasn’t the goal of the night, for me to meet someone. I didn’t think of him after that until….

About a week later, that intro moment would come back to me. Cat and I, by chance, met up with Teeth and Mo at AM. What a difference. Mo definitely took notice of me this time; he stayed close to me and responded to things I said. I think he was even… nervous or something. When we parted, to be honest, I didn’t think much of him. I thought he was goofy.

However, Mo’s impression on me improved [slowly] with each meeting until one night, he boldly asked for my number. I was surprised and very impressed! It was then that I decided that I would give him a chance if he asked me out. I was still just thinking we’d end up as friends and nothing more though, but the fact that he asked me for my number rather than the easy route of asking Teeth- major points! How he did it was also quite interesting, to me anyway.

What really turned me towards Mo kind of… embarrasses me to talk about it. You’ll see why…

Mo took me to the beach. This was maybe our third or fourth date. I was still undecided about him. It was a beautiful day, we were having a good time, played with his dog. We set up our towel near shade and sat down for a little.

Then Mo stood up, took off his shirt and started for the water. He paused to look back at me. “Are you coming?” and then he was off to the water again.

I sat there for a second, just… I don’t know. This is the embarrassing part because of how it sounds, but when Mo took off his shirt and I saw his muscles, his form, him, my eyes opened [doesn’t that sound like something… nevermind]. I guess I just didn’t… expect him to… look like he could protect me in a fight. That’s when I became attracted to Mo.

Seriously, I was stunned for a moment. Like in a movie, I had to shake myself out of it and go join him for a swim.
____________________________

I told you. It sounds horrible, doesn’t it? You can think I’m shallow or whatever you want, I don’t care. I can’t even…. I mean, I am attracted to/by other things as well…. Nevermind.

Or maybe not nevermind. Maybe I’ll write about more attraction moments I’ve experienced, I don’t know.

Anyways, who knows how or why we become attracted to certain people? I’m a rather picky person in certain respects and I don’t like to string a guy along. And apparently guys in high school kinda sensed or knew this because I turned down this guy and that guy and then some others became intimidated by me. Until he recently got married, I had a friend continually ask me what I would have said if he had had the guts to ask me out back then. Some friends called me “coldhearted” because I didn’t give someone a chance. Hmmm… that’ll be a story for another time.

The truth is, if Mo had asked me out during that run-in at AM, I most likely would have turned him down. Looking back, he didn’t have the confidence then and he had acted as if I was too good for him, with which I tend to be uncomfortable. So, when he did ask me out and had confidence, that started to level things out between us, and then the shirtless part made us even, in a way. Ugh, I don’t know.

I’m glad that things worked out between Mo and I, for the most part. I mean, we did break up, but we had such good moments together so I can’t complain.

And for you, maybe give someone a chance. I don’t mean just anyone though, only that… if someone has enough going for you that there could be something there and you’re not sure, the situation might just need a little more time to develop. Be cautious, don’t wait around forever and end up feeling stuck, but consider being a little slower to say “no” to the beginning of a possible opportunity.

At least, this is what I learned from the experience with Mo.

Mahalo for reading.

Because Of You: Asking Guys Out

When I was in high school, I would hear things about guys being interested in me. I always figured that if the guy really was interested and if he thought enough of me, he would do something about it, he would ask me out or something.

I would have some guy friends who would stay close to me which caused people to think that I was dating someone. Yeah, apparently I had a lot of “boyfriends” in high school that I didn’t know about.

When Dimples asked me out, I thought well enough of him to say yes; I liked that he came up to me and asked.

One time, he told me that he thought I had been dating his friend Bond or my friend Stinky, two of the guy friends with whom I would spend some amount of time. I asked Dimples why he had asked me out anyway if he thought I was dating someone.

Dimples said it was because he’d rather know than to not ask and keep wondering what my answer would have been.

When I’m interested enough in a guy, I think about Dimples’ answer and I’ll ask the guy to hangout or something in order to get to know him better.

If I never ask, I’ll never know.
____________________________

A time that I put this into practice was in getting to know Handsome. Handsome and I met while taking the same art class at the U. I thought he was, well, handsome, or more precisely, that Handsome was out of my league. Not only was he good looking, but I thought the projects he produced for class were good, so he was also talented. Nothing really happened between us in that class; we’re both on the quiet-shy side.

The next semester, I ran into Handsome again. We were both taking Spanish. Though we were in separate classes, they were at the same time and across the hall from each other. The classroom door would usually stay open; sometimes I would look across the hall and see Handsome and he’d smile back at me. On a rather regular basis, we would talk in the hallway while waiting for our classes to start, or meet up while walking out after class.

One day, as we were walking out of class, I decided I wanted to know and asked Handsome if he’d like to have lunch together. If I never asked….

Well, Handsome said yes! And we hung out many times after that.
____________________________

Because of Dimples, I’ll go for it; I’ll ask a guy out.

The end.

Because of You: Like Dark Brown Eyes

Alex: It's just that when I see her pictures… it's like it's the first time. That must be the house in Mexico.

Mrs. Fuentes: Aguascalientes. And that is lsabel's great-grandmother. They have a special connection. You can see it in the eyes. That same wild spirit.

[Shouting in the background]
Isabel: I can handle my love life!
Mr. Fuentes: Since when?

Alex: I think that runs in the family.
____________________________

The above is dialogue from a scene in “Fools Rush In.”

When we lived in the apartment, we had a black and white portrait of Popo above the TV. She’s so beautiful, around 20 years old maybe. I wonder where it is now. I haven’t seen it since we moved.

She died when I was barely 2 years old. Her funeral is the earliest sure memory that I have. I wrote a story about it for my autobiography writing class.

I love sharing about Popo’s newspaper feature. As Brother has told me, she was in a picture for a story about a mahjong gambling raid. Popo was quite the mahjong player. ;)

Dad says that Popo came from a very rich family, maybe something like nobility. Her family didn’t approve of her marrying Papa who came from a working family. Obviously, she married him anyway.

I’ve heard my aunties mention speculations that they may not be entirely related to Dad. I’m not supposed to say anything to him about it. I’ll never know.

I think about Popo often. When I look at certain photos of me, I think she’s looking back at me. When I have restlessness inside, I sense her. When boldness emerges, I sense her.

I don’t mean that I believe she’s here with me or that she possesses me. I think that my spirit is unique only unto me, but is it a product of who I have come from? I simply wonder if one can inherit spirit like one inherits dark brown eyes.

I think maybe her ways were understated, her strength, her charm, her style. I think people underestimated her quality, yet she knew who she was and didn’t shrink away from it.


I just wonder about her. When I look at pictures of me, I don’t see my parents, and I don’t see my other grandparents. Sometimes, I don’t even see myself.

I only see Popo.

Because of You: A Calculating Exercise

When I was around 7 or so [when do we learn multiplication?], Dad started to teach me about calculating the GE Tax on a product. It was namely any My Little Pony or Barbie item I happened to ask for; I had to calculate the tax on the item before he would give me the money to pay for it.

This isn’t to say that I was spoiled and always got whatever I wanted. There were times that Dad said no, but also I didn’t like asking for things very often; sometimes I was too lazy to do the math so got denied that way. For some reason, I wasn’t the kind of kid always seeking to have stuff, as if I knew we weren’t poor but neither were we rich. It also helped that Mom was quick to beat the tantrums out of me early.

Back to the tax lesson, GET back then was 4%. Dad would tell me that it’s 4¢ per dollar, 1¢ per quarter. If the item cost $9.39, that meant 36¢ + 1¢ for the quarter= 37¢. He would tell me if I had to add another cent for the remainder, which it does in this example [remainder 14 > 25/2], totaling 38¢ tax. Then he would have me calculate the total, this example being $9.77 [$9.83 today].
____________________________
I’m not sure what Dad was thinking when he decided to start teaching me this shortcut to tax calculation. I wonder if he knew that he was also making me aware of money and that things cost a lot of it. My finances right now aren’t that great, but I’ve been more sensible about it than some friends, especially when I’m working.

If one thinks about it, Dad’s way of making me aware of money was much more subtle and manageable than the picture of parents today. I’ve seen kids walk up to their parent, carrying something in their arms. The parent tries to say “no,” but as soon as the kids’ about to make a fuss, the parent tosses the item on the check-out conveyor belt.

I didn’t have to do chores to earn stuff, but I did have to do the math. If Dad could afford it, and I did the math, he would give me the dollar bills for it. I would take the item and money to the register and go through the whole transaction myself. I would see Dad’s money go to someone else, and notice how little of it came back if at all.

Now that I think of it, perhaps the act of having to go to the register also helped deter me from asking for stuff. I was extremely shy as a child, still am quite shy. I would have Dad carry up until I was too big; I would pretend to be asleep on his shoulder as he carried me from say, the car to the elevator so that I didn’t have to interact with people saying how cute I was and all that. Visiting relatives, Dad carried me a lot so I didn’t have to hug uncles and aunties. Terrible, no?

I still don’t really like going up to cash registers. I look for the shortest line, have my club card and money ready, so I can get the awkward [for me] interaction over with, not because I’m in any hurry. In a long line, there’s also more chance of awkwardness [me] with other customers, like if the person behind me is holding his one item 3 feet behind me, do I do the polite thing and put the place-holder bar on the conveyor belt behind my items anyway?!!
____________________________
Dad’s tax shortcut would make me think of other “shortcuts.” I am usually faster than my friends when calculating tip at a restaurant; I’m just too lazy to do it nowadays. If the bill is $9.39, move the decimal over to find that .939 ---> 94¢ is 10%, $1.88 is 20%. If I give $11 for my bill, that’s about 17% tip, pretty good.

To calculate a 33% sale, I divide the total by 3 then double it. 9.39/ 3= 3.13 x2= 6.26. $9.39 on 33% sale is actually $6.29 before tax. 20% off would be 9.39/ 5~ 1.88 x4 =7.52 [7.51 by calculator]. Or I could estimate 20% off of $10 is $2, so I’d pay about $8. It also depends on how close to the price I want to be.

I may not be able to add 4 10-digit numbers all in my head in 5 seconds, but I’m a little more mindful of numeric relationships than I believe I would have been if I had never made the connection in what Dad taught me with the tax [that 4% tax means 1¢ per quarter].

Mahalo for reading.
[Photo: Dad teaching me to exercise the body too]
____________________________

What’s a lesson that you remember learning as a kid?

Because Of You: I Love My Thighs

[I decided to start a new label for entries called "Because Of You," highlighting the people and moments that have shaped who I am today! Here goes the first in the series:]

Ali H., college friend [pronounced like Muhammad ALI] :

I love my thighs. Seriously!

We were waiting to go to the beach with friends one day when Ali looked over at my legs. He said, “Wow, your thighs are bigger than mine!” The other guys chuckled. Realizing how it sounded, Ali explained that because he was a soccer player he had big strong thighs to help in the game. He was admiring my big thighs.

Of course I’ve looked at my body many many many times over the course of my life. I’ve had moments of loving it and moments of wanting to change it, never to the point of hating any part or of changing it by surgery.

My thighs have always touched, even at my lowest weight. I could never wear the skinny jeans that many of my friends did. I’ve only ever played PE soccer.


But my thighs have taken me on long hikes, carried me through many cities, powered many bike rides and jump roping exercises. They are the thighs that help lift me from off the ground with a four-year-old on my back. These thighs have gone up and down thousands of stairs. These thighs have marched proudly for my high school. These thighs have marched in the Rose Bowl Parade.

These thighs are powerful.

Because of Ali, I love my thighs!

Mahalo for reading!

[These thighs have been to the highest point on Kaho'olawe. That is me in the yellow top.]