New Year's Jar

A friend shared this picture on facebook and I thought it was a brilliant idea!  How quickly we forget the good things that happen.  (Or at least this is sometimes true of me.)  Maybe at the end of the year we won’t remember some of the things we noted but I love the intent to savor and treasure the good things in our lives.

Who wants to join me?

Making music

Yesterday I realized that it had been a while since I sat down at my piano.  I had some time on my hands and there was a tune in my head that I wanted to try out.  After plunking around for a while trying to bring order to a new composition, I gradually slipped back into music I used to play long ago.

Isn’t it funny how different senses can remind you of things long-forgotten?  In this case, as I played I remembered various thoughts, emotions, and experiences connected to the assortment of tunes.

I remembered the music room at the international boarding school I attended in Nigeria – a place where I would go periodically during Study Hall or breaks, particularly when I needed an outlet.  I recalled a classmate who used to use the same music room from time to time for his own compositions, and sometimes we would listen to each other and even try out some variations on our own.  One of the pieces I enjoy playing today is actually an adaptation of one of his melodies.  [When I put my own twist on it, does that make my version authentically “mine”??]

As I played another piece (this one truly created by myself), I laughed as I remembered that I wrote the score during a history class in college.  (I’d say “Shhh, don’t tell” but it doesn’t really matter anymore.)  I had already composed the music in high school.  I just couldn’t get my brain to focus on this college class so I used the time to record the score on paper.

As I played yesterday, my fingers needed some warming up and my playing wasn’t perfect.  But I was taken way back to the days when the piano was a means of expression for me.  If I was excited about something, it was reflected in the way I played.  You could also pick up if I was disappointed, sad, frustrated, or mad.  I played until I had expressed what I needed to.  I didn’t need an audience.  In fact, I didn’t want one because I wasn’t playing for anyone’s benefit.  I didn’t want or need anyone’s approval.  I was just playing for the enjoyment/release of it.

Yesterday felt the same.  I didn’t realize I had so much to express until I started playing.  About an hour and a half later, I got up from the piano thankful for the release I didn’t know I needed.

One of the beautiful things about music is that you don’t need words to explain anything.  No need to find and corral the right words in any language.  Just play.  Ahhhhhhhh…..

I do [not]

19 years ago today I said “I do”.  And roughly 10 years ago we said “I don’t”.  Both felt like a lifetime ago already.  I mentioned this to a friend today and she inquired what I was thinking or feeling.  Was it a painful memory?  Was I relieved?  Indifferent?

I thought about it for a minute and decided to sum it up as a learning experience.  Clearly there’s more to the whole story but this is sufficient for today.

Gendarme-in-training

A childhood daydream came to mind today.  This was when I was in Cameroon – maybe 5^th or 6^th grade?  In those days I remember that my brothers and I used to play “military drills” with some of our friends.  I often got the privilege of being the signaler, indicating which direction the next person needed to run and hide.  Maybe it’s because I had a watch and I could time everyone so we could work on improving our time.  What’s funny is that I don’t recall us ever operating with two teams.  We were always just one team (according to my memory), practicing drills and preparing for an imaginary enemy.  I am happy to report that we were never defeated!

Anyway, those play days must have prompted my daydreams during that time.  I imagined growing up under the guidance of gendarmes.  At that point, all I had seen of gendarmes were men in fatigues (or not) with weapons (or not) at road-side checkpoints.  But I believed (or wanted to believe) that they had actually had some sort of military training and that it would be cool to have military training.  I didn’t focus much on why military training would be required or the circumstances that could call upon those skills.  It was just cool to HAVE those skills (even if all you ever did was stop people at checkpoints and ask for their “particulars”).

So I daydreamed that I somehow got connected to a group of gendarmes.  [OK, even at an early age, my daydreams required a measure of logic.  How would I, a missionary kid, possibly come under the apprenticeship or upbringing of gendarmes??  The logical reason I came up with is probably also the reason I kept the daydream to myself lest I be misunderstood.  My conclusion was that something happened to my parents so some kind gendarmes took us under their wing.  Yes, I know that’s not entirely realistic but it was something (and it prompted a conversation with my mother during which I found out there really was a contingency plan if something ever happened to them).]

These gendarmes were very nice, but certainly had talent, strength, and military competence to draw upon if/when needed.  I suppose they didn’t know quite what to do with my brothers and myself except include us in military training and prepare us to fend for ourselves.  Thus began some wonderful military instruction in my imagination.  And of course I imagined that my brothers and I got quite good at it too.  Given my interest level and imagination at the time, I wonder if I would have picked up on Krav Maga easier than I do now.  Fortunately, I’m not trying to become a gendarme right now.

All that was just to share some childhood daydreams and memories.  It was fun to reflect and share.  And I wonder if “normal” people daydreamed like that when they were kids too??  Granted, I used the cultural context with which I was familiar, but do other kids daydream about being raised/trained by military professionals??  Hmm, maybe not…

Pidgin Dreams

Last night I had a fun dream.  I was with some friends at a gun range and we were taking turns shooting and browsing around the shop.  I got into a casual conversation with someone there and then this guy pulls out some Naira (Nigerian currency) to show me.  I recognized it and immediately started speaking in Pidgin.  I asked if he wanted me to go get some kosai.  Or maybe he wanted puff puff instead.  The guy just looked at me, surprised that I spoke Pidgin.  He had some friends around too and we all switched to animated conversation in Pidgin.  Some of my friends came over, but those who didn’t know I grew up in Cameroon and Nigeria were confused.  I explained things to them later but it was just awesome to be able to speak Pidgin again with someone.  I woke up in a great mood, and now I’m ESPECIALLY eager for my younger brother to come back from Cameroon so I can talk with him in Pidgin.

Hair Do-Over

So I made another attempt at trying a hair style.  My hair has some natural curls but they have a tendency to be frizzy so I often just straighten my hair.  I do like the curls but I don’t know how to control the frizz.  I really don’t like using product in my hair – no hair spray (not sure I even own any), no gel goop, etc.  I don’t think hair was intended to crunch or to leave your fingers greasy/oily if you run your hands through your hair.  I know that implies overuse of product but I haven’t found the balance of using just enough to not have frizzy hair without having the negative effects I just mentioned.

So last night I decided I would try twisting several sections of hair overnight so the curls would be “maximized”.  I envisioned curls I could run my fingers through without the time/pain of using a curling iron (which I clearly have not mastered anyway).

Well, the curls were certainly maximized alright.  But not exactly the effect I was looking for.  Yes, I could run my fingers through it and I didn’t use a curling iron.  But, oh what frizz!  Voluminous might even be an understatement…

I had to quickly go into damage-control mode.  How to tame the mane??  Out of desperation and lack of time, I made up a new style to try to keep my hair down.  I really couldn't explain what I tried.  But I wouldn’t say it was successful since I startled myself every time I appeared in front of a restroom mirror throughout the day.  Note to self:  that did NOT work.  Neither the curl-twists, nor the attempted fix.  Isn’t it possible to just keep my natural curls without having frizz or unnatural-feeling product??  I guess I still need to do some experimenting…

Crunch time!!

With a title like “Crunch Time”, you might be wondering if this is about deadlines or ab workouts.  Well, actually it’s about neither.  It’s about the time of year when I get to crunch acorns under my feet!

You see, I get a unique sense of enjoyment from stepping on acorn caps and hearing that particular crunch when they compress.  There’s also a satisfying sensation that goes with it when they crush under my foot.  I try not to crush too many acorn caps at the same time because sometimes there really can be too much of a good thing.  It’s much more pleasing to get one really good acorn cap than several at the same time.  I also prefer to use the balls of my feet rather than my heels – it just feels more satisfying.

I’m not denying that this probably sounds bizarre to most people but that’s ok with me.  I’ll enjoy crunching acorn caps on their behalf while they’re missing out.  This experience is similar to popping bubble-wrap.  I realize I may be in the minority on this too, but there really is gratification in squeezing and bursting individual bubbles in bubble-wrap!  Too many at the same time just seems like a waste of some really good pops.  One-by-one is really the way to go for me.

It seems that I’m drawn to sensory experiences.  Food is no exception.  I won’t go into great detail for this post, but food appeals to me on more levels than nutrition and taste.  It’s the experience that makes a difference.  If I’m not careful, I will eat waaaaaay too many groundnuts (peanuts for my American readers) not just for the flavor or protein but because they’re FUN to eat one by one (or a few at a time)!  I’ll go into more detail on food enjoyment another time, but right now please excuse me while I go outside to crunch some more acorns under my feet!

Plaits, shaves, & other hair adventures

I’ve been through a few hairstyles over the years.  During my younger years in Cameroon, I had my hair plaited from time to time.  If you’ve never experienced that process, that’s a test of endurance right there.  My Western hair was slippery compared to that of my African friends, but I’m pretty sure the pulling, twisting, and pain are all pretty much the same.  One thing that was different, though, was that it was impossible to find red plaiting thread to match my hair (not that I was concerned about such fashion details).

In my teen years, I experimented some more.  During my sophomore year, I let a 12^th grade Lebanese guy in our co-ed dorm cut my hair short.  In retrospect, one has to wonder who in their right mind would let a highschooler (and a male one at that) cut their hair.  But hey, he had skills and had practiced on other people (successfully) so I was ok with it.  Honestly, I credit him and that experience as a turning point in gaining self-confidence I didn’t know I was lacking and becoming more extroverted.  After borrowing jeans from a roommate and a shirt from a popular guy in the same dorm, I was the recipient of many compliments the next day at school.  I was surprised that people actually knew my name.  (How could they not considering how small our school was??  Who knows why I thought I was invisible until then, but it was a big deal to get that attention!)

About a year after that, I was even bolder and decided to shave part of my head.  Not an undershave, where the nape of the neck is shaved but can be covered if the hair is let down.  Nah, I went for my own style.  It was shaved on one side of my head and angled back across the nape of my neck to the corner on the other side.  (I guess it wasn’t enough to stand out as a white kid in Cameroon and Nigeria.)  I was at boarding school when I had it done, but my mom managed to fake a calm response when she finally saw it.  And she even helped with the frequent upkeep while on school break!  What a great mom!

Now, years later, my hair is long with the intent of having “options”.  Options to put it up, or have it down, or do lots of styles.  Sadly, the extent of my know-how remains with only pony-tails, buns (with or without hairsticks), standard braids, and straightening it.  My few attempts at curling, up-dos, and whatever else one is supposed to be able to do with long hair have been confusing, frustrating, and time consuming.

So a friend tasked me with attempting something this week.  I needed this assignment to make another effort.  I decided to go with something “easy” like curling.  I can’t say it was a success exactly.  Over an hour passed of trying to roll up sections of hair without burning my neck and leaving conspicuous marks.  As I let down each section it seemed like I could only get the bottom third (MAYBE half) curled.  I guess I couldn’t get enough heat to the parts rolled around on top.

Then the dilemma whether it was ok to leave it like that and go out in public or would it be clear to others that it was a botched job??  I went out (for a Thanksgiving get-together at that) and pretended it was exactly the way I wanted.  No one said anything.  And I’m not sure if I’m grateful, haha.  Were they were just sparing me what they thought might be embarrassment, or was it a look that actually seemed “normal”??  I have no idea but I think my next experiment will be an up-do instead…

Singleness

As the holidays approach, I hear more singles bemoan their singleness.  And while I don’t mean to downplay how lonely and difficult it can be for some, it seems to me there is a lot of “grass is greener” mentality.  There are times I don’t enjoy being single either but marriage isn’t always as rosy as it might look from the single-side.

There are plenty of things to appreciate about being single, during the holidays or not.  Here are just a few examples (in no particular order):

·         You don’t need to work your plans around a significant other.  If you feel like doing something at the last minute, that’s up to you.  If you change your mind on something, you don’t need to worry about how/if it affects a significant other.  You can avoid the whole discussion and negotiation of arranging and rearranging plans.  Even better, if you don’t have a significant other, he/she can’t get upset by the changes you propose.

·         One less person to get gifts for.   Whether it’s a matter of expense or just trying to figure out what someone would like, no significant other = one less person to worry about.

·         They say never to go to bed angry at your significant other.  Holidays can be stressful and tempers flare so this one can be rough for some married folks.  But when you’re single (holidays or not), this is an easy one to check off.  I suppose you might be mad at someone else, but not a significant other!

·         You can set the temperature however you like.  You don’t have to worry about a significant other complaining that it’s too hot or too cold.  And no one is stealing the covers or hogging your space in bed.  It’s all you, man.

·         You can make your own food choices without factoring in a spouse’s likes/dislikes/allergies.  If you decide to dine on an assortment of odds and ends from the cupboards or refrigerator because you don’t feel like preparing a real meal, feel free (though you might need to answer to your personal trainer or nutrition coach if you have one).  If you happen to be vegetarian, you don’t have to think about accommodating a non-existent carnivorous spouse.  If you feel like having a protein shake and calling it a meal, you don’t need to see if that works for a spouse you don’t have.  In fact, if you feel like eating at 2pm instead of noon on Saturday, oh the freedom in making that call!

·         You are free from spousal suffocation.  By this I mean that if there’s no spouse = he/she can’t be in your space all the time.  No one wanting affection or attention when you really don’t feel it.  No one talking when you just want silence.  No one crowding your space – physically, mentally, or emotionally.

OK, I admit that some of these are kinda silly and self-centered.  But the married side has plenty challenges of its own, including little things that can drive you crazy over time.  I’m not discounting that singleness can be hard too.  But if you’re single, appreciate the freedoms and independence you do have!  Start your own list of pros if you need to.  Just stop thinking the other side always has it better.

Up close and personal in Krav

I’m not sure that there are many moments when you become more aware of your body and someone else’s than when you’re practicing mount defenses in a Krav Maga class.  Still being new to this stuff, there’s a certain level of awkwardness in being in compromising positions (purposefully) with people I don't really know.  A hug is a hug but you usually release within an understood “polite” timeframe, unless you’re particularly close.  Believe me, we’re not hugging in Krav Maga.

Sometimes I'm not the only woman in class.  The other night there was one other woman.  She and I were paired together although she usually partners up with her husband who also takes the class.  Now you might think female-to-female ought to feel relatively “appropriate” if you have to be in close physical contact with an unfamiliar person.

Not.

OK, it wasn’t too bad once we got going but we both ended up laughing a lot.  She has been in these classes for a while so she helped walk me through some of the bumps, flips, holds, escapes, etc.  But she was more accustomed to working with her husband so I think it seemed a little strange for her too.  You can try to not care who you’re partnered with, but you can’t help being especially aware of where your hands and arms and everything else make contact.  Simply the closeness of another body for an extended period of time can be awkward at first.

After we practiced certain drills for a while, a few partners changed up.  The woman got her husband back, and I worked with someone I partnered with in a previous class.  His weight and strength made the situation seem much more realistic.  I don’t mean in an alarming way, but that a male attacker would feel much more like this than a somewhat tentative female.  I found it easier to respond and to practice the escapes and counter-moves when I could put myself in a realistic mindframe.  I also found that I was less concerned about whether I would hurt my partner when it was a guy.  Not that I was out to hurt him, but I found myself being less concerned about "politeness".  I felt more comfortable trying out the tactics with a male partner and using force as necessary.

Changing up the partner also seems to be valuable.  The woman I partnered with for a while commented to me that some of the moves didn't work as well on me as they did when she worked with her husband in previous classes.  In this case, since I was not as tall as her husband, everything didn't work the same.  It was a good reminder that an attacker could come in all shapes and sizes, and practicing with just one person can influence your expectations on your abilities.  What you might face in real-life might not match what you encountered with one person in class.  So you need to keep practicing and your partners need to vary.

Wow, there is still so much to learn and practice!  And I want every bit I can get because you just never know if/when you’ll need it.

Room of my dreams

Ever had a dream you wish you could repeat (or make come true)?  I had one last night that had me grinning when I woke up.

I dreamt that I moved into a gigantic house that was intended to be shared with other people.  I suppose it was community living as far as sharing some spaces but there were many wings and halls that afforded much privacy and independence as well.  I think there were several octagon-shaped sections that connected in such a way that provided multiple “living rooms” and one large, central courtyard.

Friends from different circles (including whole families) had different sections of the building.  No one felt like they were living on top of anyone else, but the multiple common areas allowed for many opportunities to connect, socialize, or whatever with others.  The picture I found to include is fairly close to what I imagined for each octagon section, but only represents one level whereas there were two or three levels for each octagon in my dream.  There was also a balcony area that overlooked the open “living room” section, and bedroom doors opened to hallways rather than the center of the octagon.

Even with all the rooms and separate areas, we were one short and one person would have to go without.  This worked in my favor because I previously spotted an alcove section near one of the large gathering areas and I really wanted to claim that spot for myself.  It was recessed enough to have some privacy but easily accessible to anything going on in that huge space.  For reference, it would be on the other side of the kitchen wall – a tall, loft-like alcove with shelves for books, storage, or display.  A wide staircase was almost directly across the room, just like in the drawing.

Imagine my delight when I observed a boxing ring getting set up in that huge "living room" space!  I couldn’t believe it!  I had visibility of a boxing ring right from my alcove-bed.  Even a kid couldn’t dream up a cooler “bedroom”.

Even better was that some of the people sharing this house were from my gym so if any of them showed up and wanted to practice some pad workouts or sparring, I could watch or even get in on some practice of my own.  Way cool!

I got the impression that this house was for a retreat of some sort, not necessarily permanent living.  But putting in a boxing ring must have been a significant arrangement and expense so I suspect that it was more than a weeklong retreat.  Whatever the purpose, if I could find a place like this (and could talk people into joining me), I’d be ready to start packing right now!  Oh, I was a very happy girl in this dream!

If at first you don't succeed, what's Plan B?

Practicing with men on some of the Krav Maga defensive moves, strikes, turns, and escapes has given me an appreciation for what a real-life situation could feel like, minus the fear and actual danger.  While most men are going easy on me in the drills since I’m new, the ones who have given me a more realistic experience have reinforced WHY I want to keep coming back to learn and practice more.  When men are practicing with men, I think they have a certain level of strength and even height that helps them execute the drills successfully without modification.

For example, a week or two ago we were practicing a drill on when someone comes up behind and grabs you like a bear hug.  Neither dropping by body nor raising my hands quickly to fling off my partner’s arms worked.  He was tall and strong and his hold on me kept my arms pinned down.  He could have fairly easily dragged me off if it had been a real attack.  I needed to feel that since he didn’t just let go like some of the other men had done in practice scenarios.  An attacker won't just let go because I attempted some resistance!

My partner reminded me to fling my arms and I attempted to do so but I couldn’t loosen his arms.  We tried several times and it occurred to me that real life could present some scenarios when things we practice in class don’t work quite as planned and I always need to have a Plan B.  (It doesn't mean that Krav Maga is insufficient, but that I could encounter situations I haven't yet covered or practiced enough in class.)  That’s when I remembered the foot stomp and strike to the groin that we learned in the self defense class.  I didn’t actually hurt my partner (of course) but in real life I won’t be able to tell an attacker, “Now wait; let me try that again.  Hmmm, that’s not working so let me try again.  That didn't work again so now what??”  I wouldn’t have that kind of time to come up with another option.  In this case with my arms firmly pinned down to my side,  would still have access to feet and groin – and I need to be able to recognize that instantly.

And that’s exactly why I need to keep going to these classes.  I need to practice, practice, practice!  I need to experience a variety of different scenarios.  In an attack, I won't have time to think about what we did in class.  In fact, my brain might turn to mush with the rush of adrenaline/fear.  I can’t rely on being able to think things through in the moment.  It needs to come quickly and naturally and I need to be ready to improvise as needed.  Without practice and exposure, who knows what (if anything) I would actually do in an emergency.  I don't want to wait to find out.

Krav Maga

A few weeks ago, my trainer and another instructor at my gym provided a self defense class at my company.  Besides being fun, it was very informative and a great eye-opener for me.  It gave me some awareness that if someone tried to attack me or my son, I wouldn’t have known what to do and I probably would have made for a great victim.  You can’t rely on being able to think things through quickly because your senses get distorted, and you’d better not rely on being stronger than the attacker (he wouldn’t attack if he thought you could take him, right?).

The class opened my eyes to more vulnerabilities and more ways someone could attack than I expected.  Some of the things we practiced in the class would never have crossed my mind even in a pretend attack that would allow me time to think of a strategic response.  Without continued practice, I might not even do those things in the event of a real attack.  That’s a scary thought.  Not paralyzing, but an interesting revelation.

So I decided to try some of the Krav Maga classes at my gym (in addition to my normal workouts and personal training).  Krav Maga is an Israeli self-defense system, used by the Israeli Defense Forces, that also relates extremely well to real-world situations.  Rather than simply defending yourself and trying to avoid/minimize personal harm, you also learn about counter-attacks – whatever you have to do to neutralize the threat, including offensive tactics.

I assumed these classes would mostly consist of women, considering my expectation that women are more likely to be targets than men.  But the first class I attended, it was all men.  In fact I’ve been the only woman in several classes, and even when I wasn’t the only women there were always more men.  It certainly doesn’t bother me to be the only woman, and I can understand a lack of awareness or hesitancy from other women, but I didn’t get why men were taking the class.  It’s not like they’re small men who might be afraid of getting picked on.  If I was an attacker, these men certainly wouldn’t be my first targets.  So what was driving them to take Krav Maga?

I decided to ask a few men why the classes were dominated by men rather than women.  They started responding by saying not to feel bad and that sometimes there were women there too.  I realized that was the wrong question because I don’t feel bad and that wasn’t the point of my question.  So I asked why THEY personally were there.  Did they think they could/would be a target?  I loved their responses which ultimately came down to wanting to be able to protect family and community if the need ever arose.  Though it might be unlikely to be a personal target (at least to the extent or for the same reasons as a woman), how many times do we hear about a shooting at a restaurant, movie theatre, school, or other public place?

This point came particularly close to home for me (literally) this week.  There was a shooting at a nearby grocery store which I happened to be at only an hour earlier.  These classes address more than hand-to-hand combat, and also include situations where the attacker pulls a gun or knife.  What would I have done if I had been at that store near the attacker?  What if I was there with my son??  I’m not saying this makes me fearful, but I do want to be better equipped to handle things this like this.  It happened to someone; it could just as easily happen to me.

Tempted but not defeated

Temptations, whether you overcome them or not, have a way of reminding you of your vulnerabilities.  That you’re not invincible.  And even that the things you don’t expect to be a temptation can actually surprise you in the moment.

The End.

Well, no, not really.  These thoughts came from somewhere, right?  OK, here’s what prompted this post.

The other evening, I pulled into a parking spot and started to open my car door.  A sudden gust of wind (yes, I’m blaming the weather) pulled my door faster and farther than I planned and BAM! made firm contact with the car door in the next spot. The red mark from my car door was pretty obvious on their white vehicle.

I am ashamed that my first thought was to leave.  I actually looked around to see if anyone noticed but I didn’t see anyone.  I considered moving to another spot or even just going home.  I even went as far as starting my car and shifting into reverse.

But my conscience wouldn’t let me actually leave.  I fought with myself over it.  I didn’t want to face the driver and wanted to just escape!  But how could I do that??  So instead I slowly pulled out a piece of paper and started to write a note to put under the windshield wipers.  But what to say??  Could I get away with writing an apology and “forgetting” to include info on how to contact me??  Very tempting, I admit.  But no, that wouldn’t be ok.

I finally finished my note and got out to put it under the windshield wiper.  Wouldn’t you know that’s exactly when the driver showed up.  I had to face her directly.  I showed her the mark and explained what happened and that I was just about to leave a note.  She looked closely and found that the red mark could be wiped off easily.  I was pretty sure I had seen a dent earlier but it wasn’t there when she rubbed the mark!

“No problem!  My husband can take care of this,” she said cheerfully.

“Are you sure???” I asked, hardly daring to believe that everything was ok afterall.  I told her that I had been tempted to just leave and that I almost did.  She said she was glad that I didn’t but that the door was fine and not to worry about it.

I didn’t go into the store.  I was still too ashamed and embarrassed that I actually struggled with this temptation.  This was one of those situations that I never thought would be a challenge if I actually faced it.

I don’t share this to take any credit for doing the right thing.  In my own strength and will, I realized I would have failed.  I don’t presume that this victory proves I will certainly overcome the next temptation that comes along.  My point in sharing this is to humbly acknowledge that I still have many lessons to learn, many more battles to face.  This experience is a reminder to myself (and anyone else) that even the things we think can’t really tempt us might surprise us in the moment.  People succumb to temptations all the time and then wonder how it happened.  Are we sometimes overconfident in our own abilities and willpower??  I know I encountered a lesson here…

An intro to Korean historical dramas

I don’t watch many movies and I can’t remember the last time I watched anything on TV.  But I do have a special affinity for foreign films and Korean historical dramas.  Anything with English subtitles is fair game.  Hmmm, I take that back.  Anything clean with English subtitles is fair game.

I went through most of my library’s selection of foreign films several years ago.  It didn’t matter to me which language because I have yet to hear one that doesn’t sound beautiful to my ears.  I loved how the films represented various aspects of their respective cultures – traditions, values, music, etc.  Absolutely fascinating to me.

So perhaps it’s no wonder that I eventually came across Korean dramas and fell in love with them.  There are two main types of Korean drama: modern and historical.  The modern dramas tend to be a bit too much drama (as well as predictable themes and somewhat shallow story lines) for my preferences.  But the historical dramas…  WOW!

I love action and believe me, historical Korean dramas give me plenty of it.  Martial arts and sword-fighting galore!  Some of it is a bit (or a lot) fantastical – clearly impossible for even the most talented fighter in real-life.  But what adventure and magnificent displays of strength, strategy, and training!

And I love observing and learning about traditions – whether it has to do with attention to detail on how a meal is served, being able to identify someone’s status/authority by where they sit or how others interact with them, and so much more.  So much is conveyed in these historical dramas about South Korea’s values for honor, integrity, loyalty, diligence, hard work, patience, endurance, and even forgiveness.  You can even see how those qualities are demonstrated in some of the “bad guys” whose loyalties are unfortunately misaligned, sometimes not of their own choosing but due to their family line or various circumstances.

I like that there are tragedies in many of the stories.  A good guy might be wrongfully imprisoned and suffer great torture; another might be wounded in battle and not survive.  A loved one (parent, fiancé, etc) may be exiled permanently.  But isn’t this more realistic than always making a miraculous recovery or escaping a wrongful ruling?  Sometimes there are deep, personal sacrifices (even unto death) because there’s something more important, something nobler, than preserving self.

And most of the historical dramas have been very clean!  When their idea of a scandal is taking someone by the hand or wrist, or hugging someone in public…. well, it’s pretty safe to say that I don’t need to worry about inappropriate scenes.  The language is clean too.  Granted, it’s translated to English subtitles so I might not be aware of what is really spoken, but I can definitely handle “You scoundrel!” better than some of the colorful language in American PG-rated movies.  :-)

Language, music, culture, values, martial arts – it’s a win-win for me!!

In my dreams...

Do you remember your dreams in the morning?  If you do, are they typically filled with nonsense or do they make sense?  I often remember my dreams and they tend to be fairly realistic and logical, meaning it’s feasible that the events could actually occur.  So for this post, I want to share two short dreams from earlier this week.

In the first dream, it was my last day at my current place of employment.  (No, I’m not really going anywhere or planning on anything so who knows where that came from.)  Some co-workers threw me a surprise farewell party and brought out a cake.  Suddenly I had a dilemma.  I don’t eat white flour anymore and really don’t care for white cake anyway.  Icing wasn’t an issue because most people don’t mind if you scrape that off.  But you can’t scrape off the cake too because then there’s nothing left!

But these folks went out of their way to try to do something nice in their own way.  Would I eat a piece for their benefit, or would I try to decline as nicely as possible citing my changes in nutrition?  (It would be one thing to indulge in something you would actually enjoy and another thing to eat something that really doesn’t appeal to you AND isn’t good for you just to please someone else.)  I didn’t want them to feel guilty for not being aware of the specific changes I had made.  That’s when I woke up but I wish I could have seen my choice.  If this was you in real life, what would you do??

In my second dream, I went to the gym for a personal training session.  This time it was outside because my trainer needed to multi-task and prepare a group of about 50 people for some sort of choreographed demonstration.  He got me started with a million reps of something (ok fine, only 100 but it was a LOT… I guess he thought it would keep me occupied or something), and then worked with the group to keep them on task (he could keep an eye on them and me at the same time).

Suddenly a badger showed up and attempted to bite one of the nearby ladies in the group!  It caused a bit of commotion but disappeared again and the group continued practicing.  Suddenly the badger reappeared near me!  I was concerned that someone would get hurt or the poor badger would get hurt in the ruckus so I quickly grabbed it by the back of the neck.  It was a feisty thing but I hung on!  Someone brought a box so we could keep it contained during the workout/practice and then let it go afterward.  Wow, what was that dream all about??  How did a badger get in my dream???  I had a good laugh when I woke up.

Workout high

Alert!!  Alert!!  Serious workout high!!  (Can it be called serious if you’re grinning uncontrollably??)

This morning’s personal training session was a pad workout.  I’ve been a bit eager (um, slight understatement) to try this out.  I’ve been warned several times that it’s very addicting – that people don’t want to go back to other workouts once they’ve tried a pad workout.  Well, today I found that it’s only partially true for me.  I absolutely LOVED it and I want more, more, more!!  But I’d also be reluctant to give up on the other workouts.  I want it ALL!

I told my trainer not to give up on me with the other stuff.  I don’t want to stop working on strength, etc even though I already can’t wait for another round of pad workouts!  I don’t want to have to choose.  I trust my trainer to be the expert and to know what’s best for me.

Being a newbie with combo moves, I definitely didn’t get it all right.  Sometimes I circled when I was supposed to hook or I crossed when I was supposed to uppercut.  At one point I had to tell myself not to think so hard and just keep my eye on the pads.  That helped me relax mentally and respond a little faster.  (At least it felt a little faster to me, though my trainer might disagree, haha.)  I loved that he encouraged me to hit harder – sometimes I needed that reminder because I was too focused on the combo series or watching the pads.

I was drenched when it was over but what a thrill!!  Pad workouts, oh how I love you!!

As I freshened up and got ready for work afterward, I noticed that my arms were trembling.  It was a bit comical trying to coordinate one hand holding my hand mirror and the other hand holding my eyeliner – both hands shaking at different intervals.  But I loved the evidence of a great workout!  And what a high!!

Soup-er Delicious

The sudden turn of weather heralds the season for soup!  I’m a fan of soup but not so fond of the preparation, cook time, and cleanup (depending on the type of soup, of course).

Magic Bullet to the rescue!!  Last night I tried Magic Bullet’s homemade tomato soup recipe.  I might report on that later but tonight’s feature is butternut squash soup which was unbelievably delicious!  Quite possibly the world’s best butternut squash soup!  (It’s completely irrelevant that I’ve probably only had butternut squash soup once before in my life...)  I would definitely order this at a restaurant.  And it was HEALTHY too!!

OK, here we go:  cubed butternut squash, onion, garlic, low-sodium chicken stock (I might use vegetable stock next time to make it authentically vegetarian), honey, nutmeg, coriander, and black pepper.  The recipe I used as a guideline included butter and olive oil to cook the squash and onion.  However I didn’t take that route and was able to eliminate those items (and their calories) completely.  I took the picture with olive oil because I thought I might add some for flavor at the end if needed, but I didn’t need it after all.

Since I knew butternut squash would take several minutes to soften in the microwave (as opposed to barely a minute for the fresh tomato I used in the previous night’s tomato soup), I used a glass bowl instead of the bullet cup (which is microwave safe for a few minutes only).  Basically, I dumped all ingredients (without chopping up the onion) in the glass bowl and microwaved for about 5 minutes.  Then I poured everything into the cup, blended for just a few seconds, and TA DA!!

Fast, easy, healthy, and ridiculously tasty!  Now that I’ve tried this first run, I see many more bowls (or cups) of butternut squash soup in my future…

Try this at home

When a dish at a restaurant inspires me to try it at home, it’s GOTTA be good!  Well, that’s the case here with this special omelette.  While vacationing at the beach recently, I accompanied friends on a breakfast excursion to a quaint coffee shop they had frequented in years past.  While the shop itself wasn’t expansive, the menu options were endless.  Even selecting from just the omelette section was a challenge.

I decided I would try something unique, something a little different than I would normally find on other breakfast menus.  There was no shortage of those options either.  I finally settled on one that included spinach, tomatoes, pesto, and fresh mozzarella.  I assumed the filling would be cooked with the egg, but oh what a pleasant surprise to discover EVERYTHING fresh and beautifully laid in the centerfold of a light, fluffy omelette.

I could not believe the flavor when I took my first bite!  AH  MAAY  ZING!  Definitely worth of trying at home.  And so I did.  In fact, this was the first time I was inspired to make my own pesto.  I had heard it was easy and that you could pretty much use whatever greenery and nuts you want (or happen to have on hand).  I had spinach and almonds on hands so I used those instead of fresh basil and pinenuts.  DELISH!  No loss here!  And who knew it was so easy?!  OK, apparently a LOT of people knew when I browsed for recipes and healthy versions...  I also picked up a tip to use an ice cube tray to portion-freeze the pesto you make.  You rarely need more than a cube or two for a recipe anyway since it’s so packed with flavor.  [My head is spinning with new menu options now…]

So this evening I decided to try my own version of this omelette.  I intended to use egg whites or egg substitute but I forgot.  No big deal.  And I didn’t have fresh mozzarella but I did have reduced-fat, shredded mozzarella.  While the beaten eggs were cooking and setting in the pan, I diced up ½ tomato, opened a bag of baby spinach, and heated one cube of frozen pesto.  Once the eggs were done, I lightly sprinkled some cheese on one side, laid a bed of spinach and tomatoes, and drizzled the pesto on top.  Then I folded over the other side of egg and slid the omelette onto a plate.  I added a few strawberries to the plate for color and diversity of food groups.  :-)

Of course it didn’t look quite as fluffy and attractive as at the restaurant, but hey, they’ve had a lot more practice.  And people are paying them for it.  Since that’s not the case here, all I needed to worry about was getting a fork.  I took my first bite and what was my response?  OH YES!  Again, not 100% the same, but delicious nonetheless!  Oh, happy am I!!

Naturally nutty

I’ve been going through my fair share of peanut butter lately.  It’s a key component in my favorite protein shake (chocolate peanut butter – made with almond milk, protein powder, cocoa powder, and peanut butter).  But it’s also an excellent accompaniment to my whole wheat toast some mornings or to liven up a celery stalk for a snack.

Regardless how I use it, peanut butter has definitely become a more frequent purchase at the grocery store.  A while back I switched to natural peanut butter after realizing how much sugar (corn syrup) and preservatives were in regular peanut butter or the low-fat peanut butter that I previously purchased.  I know it’s a personal choice but I feel better about fewer, all-natural ingredients these days.  Unfortunately, of all the brands of peanut butter at my preferred grocery store, only one is truly natural (only contains peanuts) and it doesn’t come in a large container.  Another brand says it’s natural but the ingredient listing reveals otherwise.

Considering how often I use peanut butter now, and considering the cost of roasted peanuts compared to jars of peanut butter, I decided to attempt making my own.  It turned out GREAT and was surprisingly easy!

Since it was an experiment and I dislike waste, I decided to start with only ½ cup of peanuts.  I put them in my Magic Bullet and used the flat blade to break up the nuts.  This took only seconds to get to an acceptable consistency.  Then I switched to the cross blade and pulsed for about a minute.  The result seemed a bit dry and wasn’t really sticking together very well so I decided just a little oil.  About 1/8 tsp was all I needed to get the tiny peanut pieces to blend together into more of a paste, like peanut butter.  Of course I had to sample and it was delicious!  No added salt, no sugar, no preservatives.  I suppose it won’t keep as long as regular peanut butter but considering my rate of consumption and the ability to make more whenever I want, I think I found my solution!