Aquatic adventure & animal fascination

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I’ve been meaning to take advantage of the UCLA Marine Aquatic Center for awhile now and finally got around to doing that today.  They rent out kayaks to students for free (and of course I never got around to it while I was a student), so they can go enjoy a little paddling around the marina.  I went with Ninja, who’s always up for any sort of adventure or new thing, and we got a two-person kayak so I would only have to pay $5.  If I had gotten my own, it would have been $15 an hour!  Ridiculous.

We got our paddles and sat into the kayak, then went off on our way.  I think I took a paddle that was not quite long enough, since the motion kept getting in the way of my legs and I’d hit the side of the kayak as I made my paddles.  Perhaps it was just lack of arm strength though.  As we went along, we saw a sheriff’s boat pulling up to one entering the marina – was it “pulled over”?  We also saw seals diving for fish and birds congregating where fish were being netted.  A few items of trash floated near us, so we navigated so I could pick them up and put them up front to take back.

In the area where the water was very still, we managed to get a decent rhythm and speed going, which felt really good.  At times it seemed we could just glide upon the water with our feet (and so we stuck our feet into the water to simulate that).  We saw many boats with fun names or really cool designs, and many very fancy ones.  Some were from the local area and others had come from other cities.  There were even two or three floating homes at the end of some of the docks, complete with couches and dining tables and beds and pets.  Now there’s a lifestyle.

As we approached the exit to the open ocean, rocks on the shore were covered with barnacles and scurrying amongst them were little crabs that looked like spiders or scorpions.  A few seagulls were floating near the shore and we quietly approached them, gliding closer and closer until they decided we had invaded their personal space and took off.  After we made an entire circle, we got back and cleaned off the equipment, got rid of the trash properly through the trash bins and recycle, and guzzled down some drinks to recover to from the two-hour effort.  It was a nice little excursion and a fun way to exercise a bit and enjoy some nature-y sights.

Later at night, we came across a spider who had built a web in a parking garage.  One of his web’s anchors extended straight to the ground, which was not the best idea, since it will get broken when residents arrive and drive that way.  Ninja decided to help him out by relocating that thread to the ceiling, but unfortunately it wouldn’t stick.  Instead we got to watch in fascination as the spider dropped himself down to the floor again and rubbed his butt against the floor to re-anchor his web.  He then began to climb up again, using only his four forearms.  His two hind legs dangled and from one of them, another thread was emerging.  He then used that thread to attach to another part of the web to create a triangle and continued breaking up parts of the web and extending it with triangles.

It was a really cool process to watch and he didn’t seem to mind our intent stares.  It’s unfortunate that he chose a poor location and will soon have to deal with another wrecked web (and probably worse, since Ninja was very gentle in how he moved the thread).  Hopefully he will eventually learn that he will need a new place to stay permanently, or else he’ll be making a whole lot of extra work for himself, repairing that web all the time.  It must have looked kind of funny, the two of us staring at what looked like nothing in the middle of a parking structure, then squatting down and staring at the floor, then standing up and staring towards the ceiling.  It was all worth it though – we got a great first-hand view of how spiders make their creations!

The beauty of food

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I love food.

DSC03672I eat it all the time, I think about my life in terms of what to eat next, I socialize with people preferably with food at hand.  It’s a great way of uniting people – after all, who doesn’t eat food?  I even go around taking pictures of all the food I am served at various restaurants and gatherings.  Sometimes it’s the presentation that makes it almost too good to dig into; sometimes it’s the delicious aroma that makes your mouth water and your heart fill with happiness.  Seriously, good food can lift your spirits!  The best thing is, it can be enjoyed over and over again – sometimes alone, sometimes shared, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot.

Since I think about food so much, it’s not unusual that I often get cravings for things.  The family soup that I never get sick of, the ice cream that I can only take so much of, the kimchi fried rice that I’ll take spicy or sour, the pickles that crunch just right, the chicken pot pie that fills me right up, the blueberries that I gobble up – ah, the wonders of delicious food!  Sometimes I get gluttonous and eat too much, then lay around exhausted by the effort, but I always enjoy it when I’m eating.  My taste buds are happy (though sometimes get a little burnt by my over-eagerness), my nose buds (smell buds? scent buds?) are tickled, and my mind is thoroughly pleased with the results.  It’s a pity I can’t eat as much as I used to as a child, for I find myself with a lingering desire to eat more even when I physically can’t take it anymore.

DSC07610One of my favorite places to go as of late (and unfortunate for my health, I’m sure) is all-you-can-eat Korean BBQ.  Between the cute little appetizer dishes, the tasty salad dressing, the rice paper, the egg soup, and the scrumptious brisket and bugolgi, what more could you ask for?  Sure you come out smelling of meat and smoke, but that’s not exactly a bad thing, is it?  I’m also a huge fan of BCD’s (which I like to joke is missing an A), which is a Korean tofu house that’s open 24 hours.  Who needs Denny’s or IHOP when you can get those Korean appetizers, a small yellow fried fish, a bowl of fresh rice, a stone pot of boiling tofu soup, and a toasty rice soup at 2 or 3 in the morning?  Granted, for those poor vehicle-less souls living on campus, I guess they have little choice, since they can’t get out to K-town.  But hey, as long as you’ve got motorized wheels, you’ve got no excuses!

One new thing (gosh, everything I like these days seems to be Korean!) that I want to try is the Kogi trucks that go roaming around LA.  If I ever catch one (or decide to chase after one), I’m sure it’ll be a fun experience to order some delicious food from the truck after standing in line for ages.  It’s kind of like Sprinkles, where part of the experience is to stand in that ridiculously long line.  In Kogi’s case, if you’re into tracking them down and getting a meal, you’ll have a blast.  In Sprinkles’ case, if you’re into getting fresh cupcakes and observing the “please keep this door closed to keep our cupcakes fresh” sign, you’ll feel like those desserts were worth the effort.

DSC07609The great thing about LA is that you never run out of good food to eat.  I can’t wait to go back to Buddha’s Belly in Santa Monica for some Asian fusion and chocolate fondue, or over to Daphne’s for some amazingly tasty shrimp pita, or out to cha for tea to get the best boba in town and some yummy treats as well.  There’s still plenty to explore, like this other place that has chocolate fondue (which I only knew of from pictures that Opti put up), or the various places lining the streets I often drive along.  From Chinese to Greek, from Korean to Persian, from Japanese to Brazilian, there’s a lot more to try!  It’ll be slow going though, until I find myself a job and have an income again!  For now I’ll just take advantage of UCLA Young Alumni events (like the one tonight) to meet people and try new restaurants.

Oh, and let’s not forget the wonders of potlucks, BBQs, or just cooking with your friends!

The death of a tradition

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IMG_3612UCLA is rich in its culture and full of traditions.  One such (relatively new) one is the ever-lively Undie Run.  By the time I arrived on campus in the fall of 2004, it was a blossoming tradition that I had heard of, but didn’t really know much about.  I spent my first year hearing the rumors, but not knowing anyone to go with or where to find the gathering, I never tried to join in the festivities.  My second year I returned, eager to find my place and I did so by joining over a dozen organizations on campus.  As I spent my time going from meeting to meeting, social to workshop, I didn’t quite find the bonds I was looking for.  And so in the spring, I opted to pledge for Alpha Kappa Psi, a co-ed business fraternity on campus.  My time was sucked up by that, but I still managed to meet some new friends who were the type to party it up.  In them I found Undie Run enthusiasts, so I prepared myself for my very first participation in such an event.

Blocking off the road.

Blocking off the road.

Undie Run started back in 2002, when some guys who were frustrated by the tight control around finals week, with people not allowed to loiter or participate in Midnight Yell and other such things that restless college students are bound to gravitate towards.  As the quarters went by, it grew exponentially and soon thousands of students would gather together on the Wednesday night of Finals Week, then head off at midnight in a herd of skimpy outfits, going along a route that ultimately led to campus.  It was a great way for students to do something just to let loose a little bit in the midst of the stress that intense studying brings (or for the lucky few, celebrate the end of another quarter).  Once word got around and it grew big enough, the police started to block off the roads and monitor the path to ensure everyone’s safety (what would you do if you were driving just after midnight and a hoard of half-naked 20-somethings were running toward you, completely blocking the road?).  As it become more popular, it began to attract random people from the neighboring areas and even other schools, who would line the route and observe the madness pass before them.

IMG_0389For my first time, in the spring of 2006, I got some cute frilly underwear (black with pink hearts and completely useless as normal underwear with way too much poof) from Urban Outfitters on 3rd street and wore a plain black bra.  We congregated at the bottom of what was known as “Rape Trail” (now Saxon Trail/Steps), right on the road where Landfair meets Gayley.  The closeness of the crowd provided warmth in the cool night as we got ready for our journey.  At some point, the front part of the group began to to scream and run and we all followed suit, flying down Gayley, passing through De Neve Court, continuing down Bruinwalk, then up Bruinwalk, and making our way to the destination at the fountain in front of Powell Library.  (Yes, we like to run scantily-clad and scream and sing right outside the library where students are still studying for finals.)  Along the way, some creepy guys were standing around just staring and a few more were waiting at the end of the run.  There’s always a bit of a downside to everything, right?  Some were taking pictures and video and others were just scanning the crowd.

Splashing around!

Splashing around!

At Shapiro Fountain, we found that somebody had soaped it up before we arrived, so many of us gleefully jumped into the sudsy water and splashed around.  It was warm and slippery and messy and exhilarating all at once!  A few ambitious students managed to climb the trees flanking the fountain while others were hoisted onto their friends’ shoulders for a better view.  It was a scene of blissful mayhem and certainly bizarre to the unsuspecting soul.  Many people in the library paused their studies to come get a glimpse of those brave/insane enough to make it out that night.  There were all kinds of odd costumes and even a few socks-only guys running around, making us seem like some wacky mix between Halloween and Mardi Gras.  In the other runs I did, I saw a girl with pasties and another with a scarf as the only thing covering her top half.  There were a variety of thongs and TMI moments that just added to the hilarity of the event.

Wheeeee!  Fly down that hill!

Wheeeee! Fly down that hill!

We spent a good half hour to hour prancing around that space, dancing to the music provided by those creative enough to bring instruments to play.  Conga lines formed and dispersed and LOTS of pictures were taken.  At some point the police decided that we had had enough fun and began to chase us off, driving towards us and flashing their lights so we’d get moving.  The crowd would reluctantly begin to make its way back to the res halls and apartments on the other side of campus.  Sometimes we would take a pause on the rolling hills by Janss Steps, playing in the grass.  When I went with another group two years later, we did cartwheels and made human pyramids for quite awhile, before rolling down the hill.  Cooling down and calming down, we’d make our way back to the Hill, where much of the population would get Bruin Cafe to eat.  The rest of the crowds disappeared into the apartment area, possibly to continue their drinking, possibly to chill and rest.  Quite a few went right back to studying for a final at 8 AM!

Herding us off.

Herding us off.

Alas, all those good memories came to an end for me just before the university decided to end this de-stressing adrenaline rush.  Due to damage to university property that always seems to happen along with the event (hey, with 10,000 people trampling around, it’s bound to happen), as well as concerns over safety from the increasing numbers of visitors unaffiliated with UCLA who show up on those nights.  I’m sad to hear this decision, since it was always a hilariously fun event for me, though I kind of saw it coming with the route changes they kept making and the tighter and tighter restrictions imposed.  The university has been threatening to shut the operation down for a long time now and I guess it finally plucked up the courage.  But as the founders of the tradition say, the police can’t arrest you for running around in your underwear at night unless you are vandalizing property or being a public (usually drunk) nuisance.  So perhaps they will be forced to allow Undie Run to persist in some fashion or another, because if they don’t work with the students, they will just find another way.  Only time will tell now.

Double eyelids

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I’m sure any of you who have looked carefully at a Chinese face have noticed that our eyes are shaped vastly differently from our Caucasian counterparts.  We have these crazy eyelids that kind of fold into themselves from the eyelash area when we open our eyes, whereas Caucasians have a crease at the top of their eyelid where the skin folds in.  Sometimes we’ll get this crease in the middle of our eyelid, toward the bottom and our eyes will start to fold in from there.  Well, in Chinese culture, it is considered attractive to have that look, which is called “double eyelids” because now it looks like there are two parts, separated by the flap.

closed eyesI naturally do not have double eyelids, merely single ones, but as a child, if I rubbed my eyes a lot, sometimes I could get a temporary crease.  When I went back to China after high school, I took some glamor shots at a studio, where they taped little clear crescents onto my eyelids to simulate the look.  It was fascinating to me that they would do that and I’ve always wondered if it really does look better.  It certainly gives my eyes a little more dimension and now eyeliner applied along the top layer of lashes wouldn’t get buried in the depths of my eye when I opened them.  It makes for more “Western” eyes, which, perhaps, is the point?  It feels weird though, to have this crease in my eye, with skin folding up around it and sometimes I wonder if it’s one of those things like a displaced joint that needs a little boost to get back into place.  There’s certainly a kind of pressure there and opening my eyes larger makes that feeling even more pronounced.

open eyesSometime while I was in Singapore (and I didn’t notice at all), I somehow developed a double eyelid.  That’s right, just one.  So now my eyes are uneven (much like everything else in my body) and I wonder if one eye looks bigger because of this incongruency.  It’s kind of cool and it has been pretty permanent, but I wonder how long this will last.  Will the other eye change too?  Will this one go back?  Or am I stuck with one single eyelid and one double eyelid?  Since I have no idea how I got the first one to begin with, I have no idea how to make my other eyelid like that, or undo this one.  I guess it’s fun though, to observe the differences side by side and feel the differences when I open my eyes.

The best woman in the world

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photo credit: europa.eu

photo credit: europa.eu

I’ve been going through another binge period of TED video-watching and many of the performances I saw were dedicated to that particular person’s mother.  It reminded me of this crazy phenomenon where so much of the population admire and adore their mothers.  It’s really amazing because mothers (and fathers and grandparents) are one of the most often-lauded “groups” in society.  There’s a certain mystical nature about the influence of a mother and it strikes me as a curious thing.  After all, all mothers were just women before that, and little girls before that.  At what point do they suddenly become wise and caring and protective and loving and inspirational?  I wonder if the hormonal changes during pregnancy suddenly mature a lot of them and prepare them for a life as a role model.  What happens to make women transform like that?  I don’t get it.  Do I just have to wait my turn to feel the magical effects?  Many really rise to the occasion and do a great job in their role.

Take my mother for example.  She’s smart, she’s capable, she’s supportive, she’s patient, she’s skillful; she’s a handyman, she’s a chef, she’s a gardener, she’s a bargain hunter, she’s a problem solver, she’s a nurse, she’s an engineer, she’s a planner, she’s a housekeeper, she’s a financier, she’s a daughter, she’s a wife, she’s an aunt, she’s a mother.  Honestly, a lot of the things she does baffles me and I hope I don’t need so many skills when it’s my turn.  She can fix almost anything in the house, she can scrimp on money to leave extra for me to spend, she can cook and clean and handle our finances, all the while never running out of energy.  I think about cooking sometimes and it makes me tired.  I think about the laundry stacking up and leave for just one more day.  I see the clothes lying everywhere and consider them part of my personal “style.”  Meanwhile, she’s bustling around vacuuming the whole house, hanging up my clothes, taking care of her plants, investing in stocks, teaching herself programming, auditing classes at the local community college, and working on a few projects for her job.

photo credit: parent24.com

photo credit: parent24.com

There’s also truly something to be said for a motherly touch.  It instantly soothes me, between a combination of the warmth, gentleness, and pure psychology of knowing it’s my mother caressing my forehead when I’m ill.  I remember a Vick’s VapoRub commercial that advertised the effectiveness of their solution combined with a mother’s hands to soothe a sick child in bed.  It really struck me because it’s completely true!  A little bit of cooling and heating ointment, plus the soft touch of my mother and I would feel so much better!  There’s a tenderness in that sort of treatment that helps as well, melting away all my worries.  I know I’m safe and cared for.  It beats any other option for recovering from illnesses!

It’s funny to hear how mothers are, as I’m sure many of yours are too – protective, concerned, crazy, embarrassing… they’ve got spunk, they’ve got personality, and they’ve got style that none can match.  Some prance around doing silly things, some make you do silly things, but in the end, you can’t help but love them.  I especially love cross-cultural mothers who have had to make the best of their culture in a new culture.  If you’ve never heard of My Mom is a FOB, you should go check it out.  It’s a collaborative blog that chronicles some of the strange, but ultimately endearing things that Asian-American mothers do.  (There’s also a counterpart for fathers.)  And so has been my experience, with way too much advice and quite a few grammatically confusing e-mails.  But hey, it’s hard to consolidate East and West into some sort of cohesive cultural mold!

Really though, what woman do you admire more than your mother?  (And perhaps your parents’ mothers?)

Symmetrical beauty

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photo credit: ihasahotdog.com

photo credit: ihasahotdog.com

In nature, as in most things humans create, symmetry is often regarded as a form of perfection and beauty.  Symmetry is supposed to signal genetic “fitness” in evolutionary terms.  It symbolizes harmony in more abstract terms and is considered aesthetically pleasing.  Even in the sciences and more technical fields, it allows patterns to form more easily and is respected for its precision.  Most creatures and plants we know have a least one axis upon which is forms (more or less) a symmetrical image around.  We often look for it in the furniture we buy and the mates we choose.  There’s some sort of allure about it and any asymmetry is “tastefully” done so that things don’t appear “out of balance.”  Surely you’ve noticed this?

Symmetry comes in many, many forms and has affected all things from art to religion to science.  For me, it is most apparent in the peculiarities that come of being very conscious of symmetry in terms of balance.  I try to eat equally with both sides of my mouth.  I try to use both arms equally (constantly switching the hand with which I brush my teeth and hair, for example).  I try to not always sleep on the same side.  In all this effort, I have found I concentrate a lot on my semi-ambidextrousness: eat with a fork and spoon with my left hand; eat with chopsticks with my right hand.  Unfortunately, life doesn’t always work out so nicely and it’s unavoidable to drive with my right foot most of the time (I’m still working on the precision of applying pressure with my left foot), or —

Holy cow, I’ve just realized that I nearly thought my default thumb for pressing the space bar was my left one because I’ve been using that, but it’s because I trained myself to do so a few months ago!  Wow, it really worked and now I am far faster and more accurate typing without using my right thumb.  Now I’ll just have to switch back and forth between the two so I don’t lose dexterity in my right thumb now.  Ok, sorry for that digression.

So, as I was saying, not everything works out as well as I’d like, but for the most part I am constantly changing how I do things.  Some are just dangerous though – cutting with my right hand is still shaky business, shifting gears with my left hand could pose a huge hazard on the road, and riding goofy on my longboard could potentially give me more battle wounds and scars.

I'm not imagining it!  :(

I'm not imagining it! 🙁

What I really wanted to address is the unevenness I suddenly noticed a few days back, when I took pictures of my belly (inspired by Katana, who did it to track her fitness).  I have not been this thin/light in many years, so I wanted to document how it looked so later on I can see the difference (and perhaps be inspired by it to not gain too much weight).  After all, I couldn’t see the difference in the weight I lost in the past 5 months.  The only way I could kind of tell a difference was that my pants fit looser and my belly got flatter.  Otherwise, I still have hefty thighs and a fair amount of belly fat.  When I looked at the first picture I took, I was shocked and thought I must not have stood straight, so I took another.  This time, it became apparent that it was not my posture – my waist really is uneven!  One side is a pretty straight line from ribcage to hips, but the other has that kind of “cinched” waist look that is supposed to be feminine.

I’ve always had a slightly uneven backside, with the muscles along my spine on the left side being bigger than the muscles along the right side.  Now it seems I have another problem with my right side being weaker and less muscular than my left!  How tragic.  So now I’m concentrating on trying to put more strain on that side and working it out more in my day-to-day movements to slowly even it out again.  My asymmetrical hair may be an accepted look, but an asymmetrical body… not so much.

Now what am I going to do about the one-sidedness of riding my longboard?

Wildfire

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smoke from southern california wildfires start to darken the blue skies

Clear skies darken.


The sun glows a blood red in the distance, as it shines through the smoky clouds.  Dark orange and brown clouds of smoke creep into the clear blue sky.  There is no movement outside; all the creatures have withdrawn.  With the sunlight blocked, an eerie glow alights your world and casts it in a shadow of red and orange.  The typical heat of the evening sky no longer irritates you as the temperature cools.  The air smells of burning wood and a breath end in a fit of coughs as the clouds settle into a haze and you are surrounded by unseen floating particles.  Before you hurry inside, you notice small things floating down from the sky.  Is it snow?  As it settles, you look down on the ground to find a thin layer of ash is raining down.  It’s time to get indoors before you get respiratory problems.

sun obscured by smoke clouds from wildfires appears to be glowing red

Ruby red in real life.


The next day, you drive to school to find the parking lot empty.  One lone nark (the school’s patrollers/guards) stands at the entrance.  You approach, rolling down your windows, and she tells you school is canceled.  Surprised, you go home and turn on the television to listen to the reports of the wildfires burning through your neighborhood.  The ash is still falling gently so children and the elderly are advised to stay indoors.  Videos of fires are shown along with clips of planes flying by, dumping tons of that pink stuff to put out the flames.  Some houses have been lost already, but you live in a densely-populated area far from the wild vegetation of the hills.  The fires would have to burn through a lot of houses to reach yours, so you stay put.

water in outdoor spa sprinkled with bits of ashes from wildfires

Floating ashes.


There has been an order for evacuation in a neighborhood on the other side of the freeway, a few miles away.  It was a neighborhood you almost bought a house in when moving to this city.  You have friends who live there and you wonder if their homes are in danger.  As night falls, you look out at the view from your backyard.  The once dark hills in the distance are glowing with firelight.  There’s probably still a good 10 miles between you and the closest fires.  The spa in your backyard might provide a useful refuge if the fire somehow makes it this far.  You don’t see why you’d still be around by then though.  You consider packing the cars with emergency items and sentimental things, in case your family needs to drive off somewhere to escape the burning wrath in the distance.  Perhaps tomorrow though; there is no imminent danger.

wildfires at night seen beyond lights of the city in the faraway hills

Fires glowing above, city lights below.


As the days pass, you hear reports of how the fire jumped the highway.  You drive by on your way home and find all but the far left lane shut down as the fire burned next to the shoulder.  By the time you squeeze through, the hills are blackened and smoking from the dead fires.  Their charred faces are steaming unhappily, but they have been subdued.  Firefighters remain just to watch it a little more before they go on to the next site.  Soon the fire is mostly contained – 50%, 60%, then 80%.  School is back in session and you try to stay indoors.  The smoky air irritates your throat and gives you a hacking cough.  One of your friends is out there somewhere, fighting one of those fires.  He posts period updates on his profile, with pictures of what he’s up against.  Finally, one day, the threat is gone.  The fires in your neighborhood have been completely contained and another summer is through.

Failure

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If nothing else, he has been amazingly resilient to ridicule.  photo credit: soundoflife.net

If nothing else, he has been amazingly resilient to ridicule. I respect that. photo credit: soundoflife.net

Failure.  My greatest fear.  Failing to accomplish what I want to.  Failing to meet others’ expectations.  Failing to become the kind of person I dream of.  Failing to live a life I’m proud of.  Fear of failure holds me back, paralyzes me.  It gives me no room to breathe, no chance to defend myself.  It suffocates me.  And most of this is done in a very subconscious manner.  But when I carefully examine my approach to things, I have learned that it all boils down to this simple fear.  Katana wrote about the difference between success and responsibility and it seems that people often mistake the two.  What I have come to realize over the years is that I admire people’s success, but not their responsibility.  So, though there are people who I may think I want to be at times, I really don’t.  I don’t envy the pressure they face, whether from the paparazzi following them everywhere or to their “failures” blasted out for the world to know.  And I fear that sort of judgment of failure.

Even the smallest failures can hold me back from taking due risks, especially when it comes to work or a career.  I am terrified of making mistakes on the job.  I’m threatened by the possibility of falling flat on my face trying a skill I’m unfamiliar with.  And so, I sit quietly, not really challenging myself, or keeping my ideas to myself, in case they’re ridiculous.  It’s really hard for me to put myself up for judgment and I have actively avoided such things.  Though I usually get very positive feedback, even the most tactfully-put criticism stings hard.  I really need to overcome that, but it’s very hard for me to deal with a sense of disappointment.  It’s like I could have, should have, done something, if only I would have.  And that is an opportunity wasted, isn’t it?  Of course, I don’t expect to grab every opportunity that comes by.  Certainly I will miss out on some, but those that I do grab can be far better, if I play my cards right.

However, I’m not afraid to stand out.  I’m not afraid to do silly, crazy, strange, weird, unusual things.  I’m not afraid to be unconventional.  That all goes to mush when it comes to a workplace environment though.  At least throughout my educational years, people are expected to be learning at school, which in turn opens the doors for mistakes.  In the workplace though, people are expected to be doing, which is much less conducive to allowing mistakes.  I was blessed that the environment at C&S was very forgiving, yet even then I always feared that a request to talk privately was just another way to critique my performance.  I’ve always had a deep-rooted fear and respect for authority, whether it be parents, teachers and professors, or bosses.  It’s hard for me to see them as friends or as equals, no matter how well they treat me.  Even though I’ve come a long way in not being held back by these feelings, there’s still quite a way to go and I would be devastated if something I did that was considered bad ever got in the news.

failure

photo credit: twitip.com

I’m slowly breaking out of the grip of this fear, as I gain more confidence in what I do.  I’m actually perfectly fine with putting myself out there to get a job and I don’t mind being judged and rejected for that, but once I’m working, I’m always afraid of how I am perceived by my supervisors.  I’m not afraid of being jobless and I’m not afraid of asserting what skills I have learned from previous jobs.  I don’t mind the idea of striking out on my own, but I’m letting my fear of failure in my parents’ eyes push that aside for a more standard job.  The entrepreneurial desires will have to wait until I can justify what I’m doing to my parents.  I must admit I am a bit fearful of not being able to hack it as a businesswoman though.  I really do believe that I can do it though, and I will work at it until that becomes reality.  I’m not afraid to work hard.  I just don’t want people following my every footstep, documenting every mistake, and discovering all my weaknesses.  I can do that just fine for myself, thank you very much.  I think that’s the biggest driver behind why I wouldn’t want to be a famous star.  I would like people to know my name, but in the same way we know someone like Bill Gates – he certainly doesn’t attract the screaming teenaged girls or stalker photographers quite like the people of Hollywood.

So there you have it, my greatest insecurity.

My Bruin obsession

laelene Posted in general blog,Tags: , , , ,
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I have spent the two weeks since I’ve been back looking for jobs purely at UCLA.  I’m not interested in much else, unless a really great local eco-consulting opportunity comes up.  I figure (as I always do) that if I don’t do it now, I won’t get a chance later.  Once I get into an environmental career, since I’m not a researcher or professor, I won’t really get to work for my alma mater.  So, now is the time, while the most important thing is just to get lots of good work experience for business school.  It would help if it was on campus and environmental, which is why my top choice is any job with the Institute of the Environment.  However, if it has nothing to do with the industry I want to get into later, it’s still useful as a learning experience and will help me have something to draw from when I pursue my MBA.

DSC07653So, I’ve convinced myself that once I work for a few years and go off to graduate school, I will not be able to work for UCLA anymore.  After all, the positions they offer wouldn’t really justify it and I should be focusing on truly building my career by then.  That’s when I’d really need to know what local businesses are in the environmental arena (or maybe I’ll be ready for start my own thing by then).  With that in mind, I am doggedly pursuing UCLA careers so I can fulfill one of my heart’s desires.  I haven’t really been picky, considering all jobs that look about entry-level and don’t require a very technical skill that I know nothing about.  From Housing to major departments to the Office of the Dean, I’m trying them all, though my hopes really are on that one with the Institute.

I’m also getting involved in some Young Alumni events, like the mixer I just went to, and next week there’s another similar event, as well as a Bruin sendoff in September, welcoming new Bruins who will be starting in the fall.  I even donated a few dollars to the 5K Challenge, which is aiming to get 5000 young alum to donate at least $5 each.  When that happens, a generous ’70 alumnus named Darryl Johnson will donate $10,000!  Cool, huh?  It’s a good way for him to get the young alum involved and feel good about themselves – after all, my $5 is helping to get UCLA $10,000 more.  I’m an absolute sucker for all things Blue and Gold and I really, truly, believe I would bleed it if I could.  😛  But seriously, slap the UCLA logo on any decent-looking item and I’ll probably want it.  One day I plan on having a room in the house Bruin-tized (oooh maybe I can even get a miniature of the Inverted Fountain!) and my school gear proudly displayed.

Just gotta go pick up my diploma now.

Just gotta go pick up my diploma now.

I’ve always been one for school spirit, buying lots of memorabilia for not only my college, but my high schools and even middle schools.  I don’t think they sold stuff with my elementary schools’ names or logos, or else I probably would have gotten those too.  I certainly was into the whole yearbook thing until I got to college.  Since then, I’ve shown my commitment by working for four UCLA departments during my college career, living in on-campus housing for three years, and supporting the bazaars and sales on campus by buying quite a bit!  In high school I got a class ring each for both of my high schools, but come college I felt that it was nicer to get a graduation package with a nice diploma frame, keepsake tassel, and t-shirt instead.  I also joined the Alumni Association with a Lifetime Membership, for which I was given two license plate frames, two padfolios, a mug, and some other random small gifts.

I’m proud of the history of the school and the rich traditions we have, despite being so young.  There’s really so many rewarding experiences that you can’t find elsewhere and I’m glad I chose to be a Bruin.  I wouldn’t have it any other way.  🙂  [insert 8-clap :-P]

Cautionary advice

laelene Posted in relationships,Tags: , , ,
3

For the past couple of days I have not been the best of moods with my mother.  Time and time and again, she has spoken about relationships in a way that make me feel like she is critiquing Panda when she knows nothing about how our relationship works.  To her, she is giving me advice to forewarn me of many issues that can crop up so I am aware.  To me, she is just doubtful of this relationship being a good one and working out the way that I expect it to.  And so, listening to her talk about it always makes me grumpy, because it is not like that, he is not like that, and I am certainly not like that either.

It started with talking about my place in his life.  Am I his priority or would he put his career potential or parents ahead of me?  In trying to illustrate his cautious nature, I mentioned a time where he asked if his job potential would be hindered by me.  My mom read that as him not sure if I am important enough to give up a better job for.  She also assumed that just because I consoled him and said that it wouldn’t happen, I didn’t ask him what he would do if it did. Though I didn’t directly ask him, since then we have talked about many issues that have shown me all that he is willing to sacrifice, or change, for me.

A similar thing goes for his mom, who is hugely protective of him – would he let me get in the way of their mother-child relations?  This one I’ve asked directly and he has promised that there will be a point down the line when I become the most important woman in his life.  I don’t need that yet, but certainly I won’t put up with deferring to his mother forever.  I have also clearly indicated my complete lack of interest in having our parents live with us.  Live near?  Sure, but not with.  I value my privacy and independence far too much for that.  I just hope that she will not try to be around all the time and can be content with certain weekends or afternoons/nights.

My mother said that you don’t have just a relationship with someone; you have a relationship with his family.  And though that is probably true enough, I’m not willing to stop trying if the family proves to want very different things than me.  However, she seemed to insinuate that any man who has a clingy mother should be stayed away from.  Far away.  I think it’s completely unfair to curse a guy for how his parents might act (and might is important here – after all, there’s no proof they’d be clingy in the future).  Though your circumstances often dictate your personality, it doesn’t have to.  Not all kids growing up in tough neighborhoods become criminals, just as not all kids growing up in affluence become successful.

I know my mom means well in the end, wanting to make sure I’ve thought of all of these “what ifs” and glitches that can tear a relationship apart.  What she doesn’t know is how well we’ve handled things.  Communication is still very much open and though we approach life differently, we share many crucial principles.  Many things have already been discussed and we know where we stand with them and for the more unpredictable things, we’re willing to work together and compromise.  Perhaps it is just because my mom has not had a chance to understand how maturely we handle our relationship, but right now her advice falls upon annoyed ears.

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