Rambling Ambling

So I look at my calendar on the wall and realize that tommorrow, I need to turn it for March. *sigh* Spring is yet around the corner and these days, I feel like it's just gray and dreary.

The ankle is getting better. I'm debating whether to head over to yoga class tommorrow morning and go for a class of postures. I think I read somewhere if you exercised on Mondays, the rest of your week goes pretty smoothly. Somehow, I'm managing to do that.

I got my LSAT score today. It was a pretty good improvement if you ask me. I'm keeping myself optimistic. I actually want to tell the folks that matter the most, one of them being someone I can't really talk to for the time being.

Damn I wish it was June.

Sprains and Strains

One weakness I have about myself- I am suseptible to sprained ankles. Which was no surprise that I suffered one yesterday. I ended up just laying in bed most of yesterday and today. It has been a little difficult to tell myself not to go into the gym nor yoga class for the next few days, not until it is fully healed.

I did some other things- mostly reading and just sleeping and eat once in a while. However, working out has been my outlet, my refuge. I'm trying to work out to replace binging on food and sweets as a comfort from the pain that is ailing me.

Maybe time is what I need to heal, to find strength and some sort of comfort. Lent started this week and even though I'm not really that religious, it seems like these days, I need my strength from God more than anything to just get me through the next few months. Sometimes I do wish it wasn't so bad.

Sometimes You Wonder But They're Blood

These days, I have been a little more accepting of the views my family holds. Most of the time, their views are the complete opposite of what I feel and sometimes I wonder if some of them even know what is going on and what is right and what is wrong. However, everyone is entitled to their own opinion I guess.

For example, Ma was ranting and raving about my place in the Mission. She heard from my brother Ed who heard from my cousin Nikki's boyfriend who works for ChervonTexaco that my neighborhood is running amist drug addicts and stuff like that. Well, sure the Mission Street side of Sycamore Street has its cast of homeless folks and folks ravaged by addiction and doing things to feed that habit. However, my apartment is closer to the hipster, swinging Valencia Street side full of its restaurants and nightclubs and cool shops. Mind you that on the Valencia Street side has the Mission Police Station not too far off of 17th Street and Valencia. Now that is a real plus. I do see the cops come around my neighborhood and patrol. Folks who have lived here for a long time said it was much worse back in the days. I love my neighborhood and it kind of makes me a little ticked that other people deem certain places "unsafe". There are unsafe places everywhere. Sometimes no place is safe; we are fooled to beleive that there is some bubble or safe zone that would keep us from harm. It is an ideal state- a zone with no fear of violence or threat of safety yet to be totally sheltered is just as wrong as well.

As Ma ranted on, I found out that my cousin Nikki's newest boyfriend is white. I bit my tongue. I have my views on this that I will not disclose. It's her dating life and she does whatever floats her boat. OK, enough of that.

This leads me to my next rant from a family member that makes me scratch my head. My Uncle Joe is going through a somewhat messy divorice right now. He has been wheelchair bound for quite some time after a congential disease has caused his spinal cord tissue to turn into scar tissue. So Ma goes over and helps out Uncle Joe. Personally I think it's too much but I'm not going to impose my opinion on it. Anyways, Ma and I go up to visit Uncle Joe as she laundered his bed linens for him. Uncle Joe had some photos on the fridge of Xander, short of Alexander, my cousin Mercel and her husband Al's newest son. I check the photos carefully- Xander looks more like Mercel and less like Al. Now Mercel and Al, both Filipino, are very different. Mercel has a porcelain fair, almost China doll white complexion while Al is dark, almost the color of dark chocolate. Xander happened to have Mercel's fair complexion. As I was looking at the photos and commenting on how much Xander looks like Mercel, Uncle Joe goes on about Al's dark complexion, almost being fixated by it. I'm not sure if Uncle Joe has this thing about being too dark as if it was a bad thing. Kind of the politics of skin color come back.

To refresh those who are not too familiar with Filipino history and culture and skin color politics, the Philippines was colonized by Spain in the 1400s shortly after Ferdinand Megellan from Spain discovered the archipelago of islands in the Pacific Ocean. The higher class happened to be the fair skinned and fair haired Spaniards while the lower class happened to be the dark skinned and dark haired indegenous peoples who have occupied the islands for a long time. It seemed like from that point on, the lighter you are, the better your class status was. Being dark was sort of like a sore point, a weight that would bring down your class status. African Americans have a similar sort of politic from reading different books from different African American authors. I even remembered as a little kid that I was reminded to get out of the sun so I won't be so dark. I actually loved being this nice toasty brown color, the color of bread crust fresh from the oven. I would do anything for that toasty brown color. These days, I do put on sun screen but mostly to protect myself from skin cancer. However, I do desire the toasty brown color of my skin. I actually do love Filipino guys who have that toasty golden brown color as well- Ron had that and so does Joe. I remembered Ma made an issue about Al's skin color when she met Al at Lola Vicky's funeral service, the first time Mercel brought home Al to meet the family. Maybe it's that colonial attitude that Filipinos still have unfortunately. Sometimes I still wonder.

Even though my family may have its very own and wacked opinions in my book, I still love them. Then again, they may think my liberal point of view of things- my pro choice stance, my pro gay rights stance (yes I do believe that same sex couples should have the rights to marry), and somewhat liberal Democratic stuff makes them wonder about me. However, that is who I am and that is who they are.

Homeward Bound

I'm heading off to San Bernardino for a few days just for a nice change of scenery. Ma's retirement luncheon is tommorrow and I look forward to spending time with Aunt Fel. Plus my folks do have cable at home (maybe I can catch the last episode of "Sex and the City") and I get to eat great Filipino food.

Aunt Fel isn't really my aunt. She actually happens to be the wife of Pop's best friend and fishing pal, Domingo Contaoi whom I affectionaly called for years, "Uncle Doming." Pop is a ninong (aka godfather) of one of Uncle Doming's sons, Cheston. I am literally a month older than Cheston who is the middle child. He is sandwiched between Chester and Christian. Chester (who is two years older than me and Cheston), Cheston and I would have somewhat interesting adventures together that revolved around what game to play on the Atari 2600. The three of us would fight and cause a ruckus, causing Aunt Fel to banish us to go down to Safeway down the street and get diapers for the infant Christian. Then we would fight on the way to the store and it would start all over again. I would bag on Christian when he was younger because he was the dorky one with bad teeth and always sticking a video camera in your face. Lately, he has been the coming of age Asian American/ progressive writer in contrast to committment phobe, workaholoic, and right winger Cheston (I think it's all those frat parties) who is opposite of progressive, worldly and newly married Chester.

However, Aunt Fel has somewhat become a valuable ally in the last few years. A few years ago, Uncle Doming was diagnosed with lung cancer. Instead of fighting it all the way, he somewhat just gave up and became passive. The funny thing was that it wasn't the cigarettes that Uncle Doming would smoke that caused lung cancer- it was those years of overtime shifts packing cement at Riverside Portland. He did as much as he could to provide for his three sons a much better life than what it would be if he raised them in the Philippines (incidentally, Chester was the one born in the Philippines- Cheston and Christian were born in San Bernardino). An eptopic pregnancy before Chester was born caused Aunt Fel to lose an ovary so she jokes that the ovary that was kept only produced boys (later, I reminded Aunt Fel that it was sperm that determined sex).

When Ma called me one June day to tell me that Uncle Doming didn't have much longer to live, I booked the next flight down to San Bernardino, mostly to support Pop in this. I know he was taking this really hard- Uncle Doming and him shared a wonderful passion of fishing and even had plans for their retirements which were in the same year. Uncle Doming always dreamed of having a boat to go deep sea fishing for 400 pound Marlin off the coast of Mexico while Pop longed to go back to Alaska to salmon fish. The jokingly argued which they would do first. But in the brief time I was there, I mostly stayed with Aunt Fel and helped her out, driving her back and forth to the convalescent home my Uncle Doming was in to St. Bernadine's Hospital where he was admitted not too long after I arrived that morning. She has helped me deal with Grandma's death (incidentally, she died almost a month after Uncle Doming passed) and was my surrogate mom during the times when Ma and I couldn't really talk. I tell Aunt Fel a lot of things that I don't have the courage to tell Ma- what really happened the day of my cycling accident on Christmas Day 2001 and the men I have dated so far.

Aunt Fel loves San Francisco. One of her cousins live in Contra Costa County which is not too far from the City. Tonight as I was getting stuff at Walgreens for the house, I thought of getting Aunt Fel some Ghiradelli chocolates but ruled out that it was too touristy for her. But maybe some good food would help.

Will You Marry Me...

No no no...hold your horses. I didn't get a nice diamond engagment ring from someone recently and uttered those words. I'm more referring to the recent news of the boom of same sex marriages happening here in my neck of the woods.

Ever since Mayor Gavin Newsom decided to buck against state law and declare same sex marriages legal in San Francisco, couples came in droves from all over to make it official. The first same sex couple married were Phylis Lyon and Del Martin, long time lesbian activists who have been together for over 50 years- more than most heterosexual couples that I know. It has been a joyous occasion for many because it is the first time that same sex couples can make their union official in the eyes of the law. Only a few places in the world where same sex couples can have their union recognized as something legal. Sure it's great for financial purposes (lower tax bracket when you're married and stuff like that) and health matters (such as visitation rights when one person is sick and power of attorney purposes). These are things that are not to be taken lightly.

I'm wondering if my own circle of friends have jumped the broom. I know that my former roommate John and his current beau Casey may not have done it. John isn't really for the idea of marriage. His reasoning being, "Well if you love someone, why do you have to make it legal to be recognized?" Others are against the idea of marriage in the sense that why must same sex couples follow the same paradigm as heterosexual couples to have "normal life". The latter I have to disagree on because there are some same sex couples that want to settle down and have a family with their respective partner. I recently discovered that a woman I rode with on AIDS/ LifeCycle 1 training rides is expecting any time soon with her partner. I am really happy for that but somehow, my biological clock is somewhat screaming a few decibels louder since Anna and I are in fact the same age. Another story, another time.

What surprised me is that Mikey's roommate, David and his boyfriend of three months jumped the broom. I met David a few times and to me, he seemed like a spoiled assed bastard if you asked me. I had a bad feeling about him when I met him the few times and expressed my dislike for him to Mikey very strongly. I don't think marriage is to be taken lightly, same sex or heterosexual style. But then again, who am I to really judge. Mikey wasn't really too enthused about the news either.

Now I wonder if anytime soon, Alain, one of my best guy friends in the world, will give me a hollar from Manhattan and tell me, "I'm coming to San Francisco to get hitched."? Frankly, if he did get married before I did, I think I would really cry, partially out of joy but mostly because I will wondering when it will be my turn to be the blushing bride floating down the steps of the City Hall Rotunda.

Bouncing Back

This week has been such a doozie. Started the week with a session of yoga and ended the week with a session of yoga- with a dallop of blues and depression in between.

Yoga not only increases your flexibility and your concentration, it opens up your emotional centers and boy did they flood like the Yangze River in China. Joe and I had a few words on Sunday where well, basically, we're not speaking with each other until after AIDS/ LifeCycle in June. I really don't want to get into it. But doing yoga clearned my mind but at the same time, made me really blue. It didn't help that a good majority of the class were new mothers and there is that part of me that wants to be a mother yet I come in conflict with that upon going to law school in the next few years. But, yesterday of going to work and today going to work got me to get out of bed which I stayed in most of the time except to go to lead a March For Women's Lives event on Tuesday. But after today at work of just processing clothes all day- taking them out of shipping bags and folding them, I really looked forward to going to yoga class tonight which I was pretty surprised. Each teacher at the Mission Bikram Yoga Studio have been very helpful and each time I am working harder and harder to do my best in all of the poses. And self esteem gets a good boost too. After class, I treated myself to some bath salts at Currants. Let's see if I will go cycling tommorrow and all that good stuff.

I'm going to do the Self 2003 Challenge. It was something that Darcy turned me on to last year but I actually didn't hold it up towards the end. However, I did the 2003 Challenge again the beginning of this year, putting in some good weight training and interval training on the treadmill. Those reaped great rewards which I am so happy about. My diet has gotten better. Yes, I will admit that there are some moments when I wanted to gorge into some food because of the pain I'm feeling right now in my life but I think the more I focus on me and the things that I can do, the pain does subside and the eating doesn't occur that much anymore.

One Year Later

This week, I turned 31 years old. I didn't have a big get together like I did last year for my 30th. It was a quiet day with cycling with Charles, my new cycling pal up Mount Diablo. Didn't go up to the summit but climbing a good 2,100 feet is a nice start to my training. I felt really strong. Plus choclate cake and jamalya made by my roommate Patty. My old roommate Lauren came to wish me Happy Birthday too and my other roommate Alex got me a vase of gerbera daisies. My only downpoint was that Joe forgot my birthday which led off to more of a machine gun rapid fire of arguements, barbs and insults.

This hasn't been easy for me, trying to be friends with my ex boyfriend Joe. Some would say ditch the ex. I guess it all depends on the history behind the person. Sometimes despite the adversities, you're willing to still love and care for the person. For me, I wanted to give up because it was too much. I just didn't care anymore. Even my faith in God in this relationship began to waver. However, there was something inside me that just said "don't give up." Now if Joe was an alcoholic or beat me up black and blue every day, no question I would leave. However, it wasn't that.

Going to yoga for the past few weeks have made me rethink things. In Bikram yoga, you do each of the 26 poses twice. The first time to get your body used to the pose and the second to work deeper in the pose. In some poses, you slowly work to the ideal pose, first working on the foundations of the pose before going to the next level. These two concepts have been somewhat nagging at me in terms of my relationship with Joe. I know there is a lot of work and no great relationship doesn't come about through hard work. I do deeply care about Joe and I really want to make it work. I think it will take a lot of work within myself and between the two of us to really make this friendship work. I don't think that a forgotten birthday should end it all. But if he wanted to chuck the friendship and everything altogether, Joe wouldn't have bothered to ask me what I wanted for my birthday to make up for the forgotten birthday. But he did.

OK, one more thing I have learned and relearned from taking yoga was not to think too much. Just be present and do. So that is what I will do right now. Not think to much and just go to bed.

Falling Into Place

There is something to be said about letting things be and letting them fall into place. Sometimes you need to give it a little push, motivation, elbow grease, know-how and what not to get things going. However, there are moments where you just sit back and just let things fall into place. Somewhat trusting into the process- I now sound like my yoga instructors. Good thing? I think so.

This is what I feel that I need to do with Joe these days- just let things fall into place. We talked for a bit this afternoon. It seemed like things are somewhat back on track but in a way what I'm looking to do differently is to just let myself go on things and just let things fall into place. No set rules on what our friendship would be or trying to direct it where it should go or set up goals and expectations and a timeline. Those items are great for projects but not necessarily great for relationships. Some, yes such as business relationships, formal relationships, professional relationships, etc. Joe was back to his somewhat bantering self and both of us compared our adventures at our respective workplaces- his never ending Dilbertian world of being a chemical engineer at Lockheed Martin and me being subject to the wonderful world of retail and men's clothing at Banana Republic. Somehow telling the other person in a somewhat humorous light of our workplace mishaps makes things a little more bearable.

One critique that Joe had awhile back regarding my handling of relationships is that I haven't really let up nor trusted whatever was going to happen. I guess it has to do with old insecurities that have made me hold onto things and be a little harder to the process of negotiation and compromise. I guess yoga, reading lots of books about women's lives and the decisions they make and how they balance it all and a lot of journaling and thinking has made me a little more open to putting more flexibility. I guess it's a sign of me not being too stubborn and a little more open on a lot of things, mostly regarding future career moves and other things.

Yesterday, I really got a bad case of nerves and ended up with stomach trouble. I had a hard time keeping food in and I was going to the bathroom all too often. I was worried that a bad bout of diahrea wouldn't let me take the LSAT today. But with ginger ale, Pepto Bismol and even treats from Tartine Bakery, all was good for today. I will admit that baked stuff from Tartine Bakery just a few blocks away from my apartment is a yummy addiction. Though their items are a tad pricey, I love going there once a month for some treat. Yesterday, I got some great macaroons that Nora Helmer from Ibsen's A Doll's House would envy, a piece of shortbread that was OK (I longed for the Nabisco Lorna Doone quality of shortbread), a chocolate brownie with decadent Schafen Berger chocolate (a local chocolater based in Berkeley) and a chocolate eclair. Yes, a major diet buster yet I have been rather great on not overdoing on sweets. I took small bites of each piece and savored them instead of scarfing it down and wondering about the taste and texture of each piece. All in moderation, right?

Yoga and Fresh Food

I will admit, yoga is one of those things that everyone should have a shot at. Now that I started doing it on a regular basis again, it has given me a lot more ground. In the past, I used to practice Iyengar yoga. However, with a crazy work schedule and the fact that this work schedule doesn't find me the time I want to spend with my old yoga instructor, I let my yoga practice fall on the wayside last year. A few days ago, I signed up for the 10 days for $10 at the local Bikrham yoga studio down the street. Bikram yoga is the newest craze with doing the same 24 yoga poses twice in a heated room. My roommate Alex practices it regularly. I'm giving it a shot and I'm liking it more and more. I found myself a lot more energetic and a little less depressed and a lot more focused. I'm not sure how often I will practice once the offer expires. It all depends on how much I can shell out. I know there will be a way. Plus there's PiYo at the gym but not the same.

On the subject of good food, I happened to pick up groceries at Rainbow Grocery, a local whole foods co-op specializing in whole foods and mostly organic produce. I was reading someone else's blog on why she gets produce at the Farmer's Market. I do too most of the time but in crazy weeks like this one, I haven't had the time and I feel somewhat a little guilty in not going. As I was picking up produce, I was reading some of the signs next to the fruit, telling you where it was grown. Yes you can get grapes and strawberries out of season that were grown overseas but think about how much pollution is pumped in shipping the fruit and veggies. Not to mention how much the fruit was treated with chemicals and sprays to make sure that spoilage is slowed down during the long treck.

However, my connection to Farmers Markets have been a little more deeper than just the enviromental factors. My maternal grandmother who helped Ma and Pop raise me and my brother Ed as we were growing up, grew her own Asian veggies in her own garden. She would sell her wears to other Filipino families in the area and the small Asian foods market- San Bernardino didn't have the Vons/ Safeway/ Alberstsons like 99 Ranch Asian Supermarket in our neighborhood. I didn't realize the sweetness and the freshness of Grandma's produce until I moved to Washington, D.C. One afternoon, my friend Wei-Min and I treked down to Northern Virigina where there was a rather sizable Filipino and Vietnamese population. We got some Filipino food (which I complained about because it wasn't as good as Ma's or Grandma's.) and treked into an Asian food store which I bought some Chinese long beans, my all time favorite veggie that Grandma always grew and she somehow used it as a leveraging point to get me to visit since she would always cook them for me. So excited about my purchase, I go home, prepare the beans like Grandma used to and when I took a bite of my dish, I almost threw up. The beans were so bland and tasteless. I vowed that I would never buy Chinese long beans from the supermarket. I was really spoiled by fresh produce.

It wasn't until years later when I found a woman at the Lake Merritt Farmer's Market in Oakland that grew the same veggies as Grandma did. I kept on going to different Farmer's Markets in the area, getting produce from different vendors and slowly building relationships with the farmers since they would see me on such a regular basis. The sojurn to the Farmer's Markets became much stronger especially after Grandma passed almost two years ago. Funny in a way, one July, I happened to walk down the the Ferry Plaza Farmer's Market during lunch on a Tuesday. I ended up buying Chinese long beans, thinking of Grandma. Later that night, I get a call from Ma saying that Grandma has not much longer to live and was in a coma. I booked my flight and spent the last few days of her existence watching over her through the night. I guess the beans were the sign from heaven or some force like that.

So I guess that's why you'll find me at a Farmer's Market getting produce and other goodies. Now the new challenge is to eat seasonally so that I can eat whatever is fresh all year around. Of course spring and summer months have an abundance of produce but suprisingly enough, winter has some good stuff too.

Body Changes

Well, one month after deciding to really kick up my jockette self into real gear, I've seen some great results-

1) I'm finally getting portion control and eating better. The real test to this was this morning when I gorged out on buttermilk pancakes and chicken and apple sausage. About halfway through eating the stack of four pancakes ladeled with lots of butter and syrup and a nice fat chicken and apple sausage (I almost got bacon at Bi Rite but opted for sausage instead so it's a step in the healthy direction), I just stopped. I could not eat one more bit. Also finding more healthy recipies and incorporating healthier eating habits (eating more veggies, not drowning my salad in salad dressing, freezing portions of meals I have made) have made eating healthier a lot easier.

2) Weight training- Now that has knocked off some major weight. I know that muscle will weigh more than fat but it burns a lot more calories. Even looking at the mirror these days, I'm really pleased with the results. Not only am I trying to incorporate it more days a week, I'm actually doing my best to change my program each month. Looking at different stuff in magazines does help.

3) Interval training- I think the biggest result from this one (especially doing intervals on a treadmill) was dropping about a good 5 or so minutes from my Chinatown YMCA 5K time. I've decided to keep this up and hopefully, I can get a good time for the Chicago Marathon. Maybe a Boston time? One can wish for and maybe achieve with some hard work. I've actually decided in the next few months to do a 5K each month to track my progress.

All this in a lifestyle change. I know that there were some slumps this past month where I just wanted to sleep and not face the rest of the day but I guess exercise did shake off the blue mood and I just need to get myself focused. Excercise gets me grounded. I'm doing my best more exercise so that it won't be just because I'm training for something, a means to an end but to incorporate it as a healthy habit. I think I'm doing a good job. That and good eating habits. Of course once in awhile I will indulge on something junky but that doesn't go without something healthy. For example, on Oak's goodbye dinner, I ordered a salad to go with the pizza we both split even though I ate more salad than Oak did.

But I have learned to really love and appreciate my body for what it is worth. It's sad that sometimes society, Madison Avenue, and Hollywood dictate what is the standard of beauty for women all over the world. And sometimes, some women are not even comfortable in the body they are born with.

I go on to this thread to talk about a junior high friend of mine whom I ran into the gym on Saturday. The biggest change about this person is that she is going from a she to a he. You guessed it, a whole gender transformation. Both of us grew up in the same area of San Bernardino and went to junior high and high school together. Both of us see our hometown as somewhat restricting and narrow minded for ourselves and our lives. She said it was harder for her to embrace her blackness (she's African American) in a lilly white town (I could relate to her on this issue because embracing my Filipino identity out in lilly white San Bernardino was rather difficult) as well as her love for women. But seeing the subtle changes in her body (she just started hormone therapy) has made her look great. In thinking back, Kay was never comfortable with herself in both junior high and high school- always bossy and high strung and really jumpy, edgy and stressed out. A few years ago when I saw her during the workshops for California AIDS Ride 8, we crossed paths again, this time adopting her given African American name, Kazia which she reclaimed after majoring in African American studies at UC Santa Barbara. We two were going to do the ride but she didn't raise enough funds and also, her relationship with her partner was blooming to a point where she moved to the Midwest to be with her partner. Now I see Kazia slowly waning and emerging as Zion, a proud and powerful and grounded African American male who knows what he wants and where to go despite obstacles. For me, it will take awhile for me to remember that Kay/ Kazia is no longer there but Zion. However, rediscovering a friend who is now a stonger and powerful person in himself is always a jewel because it helps me in the end become a more powerful person in my own life.