The Fixer

I've been called so many, many names in my life. Such as "Siamese." The bratty neighbor boy across the street would always tease me and we would get in epic fights. I'm talking jump on the giant trampoline and try to kick the crap out of each other physical fights. My knee aiming for his balls fights. I HATED Adam. He would taunt me and yell at me from his window and I would yell back using four letter words. It was ugly.

One time he kept singing that song from Lady and the Tramp, "We are Siamese if you please. We are Siamese if you don't please." It sounds totally innocuous now and you're sitting there like, OK, Vicky, let's not get crazy. It's JUST a Disney song. But to me, it was the closest to racist slurs that a 10 year old could get. 

SO, I straight up pulled a butter knife on that boy. Honest to God, I was like, "I will cutttt you." Of course, Adam is alive and well and later we actually became friends when we started training our dogs together in his garage. Apparently Leos forgive and forget easily. We should get Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Kim Jong Il, and Fidel Castro in a room and give each of them a puppy. You simply can not stay angry at the world when being licked by a baby golden retriever.

Anyway, I've been called a lot of names. But recently a friend who I've been bothering about getting a health issue checked out texted me, "You're such a fixer." :)

I guess I am. I will totally not hesitate to tell you what I think about your broken self. And I want to know what you think about my broken self. Why is that such a touchy thing for people? How do you strengthen your weaknesses if you don't know what they are? I am all for constructive fixing that comes from a kind place.

The thing is, I'm only a fixer when it comes to people I actually love and care about. It's the ultimate sign of friendship that I think about you enough, care about you enough, and am willing to risk your wrath, to be honest, and to put actual thought into forming an opinion that I share with you. Food for thought. A different perspective. Something to consider. I would expect the same from my friends and family. Doesn't mean we have to agree and hold hands and sing Kumbaya my Lord.

But yes, love it or hate it, I am Fixerese if you please. I am Fixerese if you don't please.

Thanks for pointing that out, OL.

Loyalty

I've never realized just how much I value that quality in a person until lately. I used to think of loyalty as a fine trait, alongside friendly, kind, and helpful. Not as exciting as ambitious, confident, or brilliant, but being loyal was aiiight. It didn't make me want to climb to the top of a mountain and scream, "WHERE MY LOYAL PEOPLE AT?" I think I thought loyalty was sort of a weak characteristic, like, "You're loyal, so you must be a follower."

HO no. Loyalty is bomb. As in, you have my back, and I have yours. And the more people you have in your life like that, the mo' betta' it is. I go to the ends of the earth for my people. I pump them up, I hook them up, I talk them up. I look out for the people I care about and I think it's fair to expect  demand the same in return.

And I give everyone the loyalty benefit of the doubt. We start out loyal to each other. Loosely at first, because loyalty is earned, right? But when someone you get tight with shows you a slice of personality that is not only disloyal, but disrespectful, I go a little B-A-N-A-N-A-S. Because, as Gwen would say, a few times I've been around that track, so it's not just gonna happen like that because I ain't no hollaback girl. 

So as much as I agree with an alarmingly large portion of this article about Leos, up to the part about "Love, Sex, and Relationships," where suddenly the writing is fraught with typos and reads like it was taken over by someone who writes English as a Second Language (not that there's anything wrong with ESL; I AM freakin' ESL, I prefer to watch movies with the captions on) I'm not sure about the part that says Leos "do not hold a grudge and they are very forgiving."

I forgive and move on, but I don't forget. That person you thought totally had your back, suddenly not only exposed your back, but aimed a couple arrows in that direction too. Seriously dude? That's how it's gonna go down? All right. Now I know.

I feel like I totally would've fit into all those Mafia movies I watched as a kid. Where you don't cross the family or you get shot up slo mo in the middle of a spaghetti meal. 

Sidebar: Is it just me or do Asian parents have no rules when it comes to allowing their kids to watch violent movies and eat snacks with no regard to mealtimes? I think my parents took me to "Children of the Corn" when I was like 6. I remember having my tattered pink towel blankie with me in the theater and my parents watching and saying, "Oh it's just a movie," as I whimpered through the scariest freaking movie in the world. I WAS 6, people!

But they made up for it with the snack part. They never said, "No Doritos, it's almost dinner time." Or "No, we can't possibly buy THAT cereal, it has SUGAR in it!" And I never had to ask for any kind of food. I remember thinking how interesting it was at my friends' houses where we'd have to say, "May I have a granola bar?" I was like, "Shoot, that pantry ain't locked is it? Gimme some bagel chips, fool." I didn't have a lot of friends as a kid.

Back to my epiphany. I really despise disloyal people. If you hate, hate openly. Or agree to disagree. Or bring it up and let's discuss. But don't come all this way with me and then reveal that you're a total puss. So utterly disappointing.

Loyalty, sorry for not giving you the props you deserve. Next time I'm on a mountaintop, I'll do it.

"WHERE MY LOYAL PEOPLE AT?"

The Road Not Taken

A friendquaintance (friend/acquaintance you connect with on Facebook more than in real life) recently sent me an email that read, in part, "I was visiting your blog and you literally made me laugh and cry at the same time. I've been going through a career conundrum lately and whenever I read your postings--I always think about my "road not taken..." it is a nice reminder of what was once a huge priority."

And it totally knocked me back because I don't know what exactly she was referring to, probably not the shining moments where I talked about my post partum 'roid rage or ranting about how hard it is to be a parent, but I know exactly how she feels. We all have our 'roads not taken.' And some of our husbands have the misfortune of hearing about those roads all too often. The what if we had taken this offer, or made that decision, or Oprah had chosen us for her OWN network show. More on that colossal event in another post.

But I wrote back right away, telling her that I am always wondering about my roads not taken. Not necessarily because I have regrets or I'm second-guessing, but because it's engrained in us, I think.

Maybe it's an American thing, or an overachiever thing, or an Asian model minority stereotype thing, but I'm always asking questions and never quite 100% settled. It's an "I can stop moving when I'm dead" feeling. Not an unbearable restlessness, but a toe-tapping, gum chewing, humming under my breath because I prefer motion over stillness.

My friend Kiet and I talked about this on the flight home from AAJA. How, for the last decade or so, we've been trained to go get 'em, push push push, get that reporting gig/interview/story/next market.

And when you finally get It, or There, how do you flip off that switch that's all neon and blinking, "What Next?"

Popping a baby out of your lady flower helps slow things down for a while. You can't see the neon as well when your eyes are glazed over with pain.

Marrying someone sane and supportive and stable also offers some gravity.

Tranquilizers also work well.

But short of darting myself in the neck everyday, I think having an honest talk with yourself about your roads not taken, sobbing it out when necessary, and then taking a long, thoughtful look at what's going right in your life, that helps you find your appreciation for what's happening Right Now. And that's where I'm learning to live a little more. In the Right Now. What more do I need than a healthy family and a baby who has decided all by herself she will kiss us three times before taking her nap, once on the lips and once on each cheek?

So, yeah, I've definitely had my share of roads I really, really, really wanted to take. We all wonder about how things would've been. But without the sad, I don't think the happy would be as sweet. And as long as my bloggity makes my friends laugh more than cry, I'm glad we're in this together.

Surprise!

Or should I say "Supplies!"

I never knew until after I started this site how very differently people perceive me in the wild. I consider myself an extremely open person. I mean, I wrote about my hemorrhoids and patchwork quilted va jay jay.  And I'm generally pretty friendly and frank with my colleagues too. But apparently the goofy and jokester me is occluded by the Trisha Takanawa no nonsense just the facts ma'am me.

I realize this now after people would see me, brighten, and say, "I found your website. You are so much COOLER on the Internet!" It's like when people meet you and say, "Oh my gosh, you are so much prettier in person!" Um, do I look cross eyed and fuggles on TV? Kidding. I know they mean it as a compliment, 100%. And that's how I take it. I'm super grateful for the people who check in to see what I'm thinking and how I'm feeling and what's happening in my wackadocious Mommyland.

And sometimes I think I've posted something pretty funny and The Good Doctor is always there to slap me back down to reality with his, "It was OK. I would have said ..." And I'm like, "Oh really? REALLY? BRING IT!" But as you can see, he remains silent and elusive. THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT.

He's so accustomed to the Chaos Theory of Life with Vicky that he doesn't bat an eye when confronted with my whirlwind of ups and downs, ins and outs, heres and theres. He knows I am high maintenance, but as I like to say, I'm high self maintenance. The closest he's ever come to really describing it is, "She's a handful. Both hands." And THAT is why he is my favorite person ever. He can handle the un-handle-ables that make up the sides of me that aren't readily visible.

That's what you need in a Life Co-Captain. Someone who sees the good, and helps you navigate through the bad and ugly. You need someone who has your back, front, and sides. Someone you trust with your deepest darkest secrets because that person will help shine a light on the undesirable corners of your mind and make you a better person. You need a Life Co-Captain who sees you for all that you are and all that you strive to be. And that person can't be hedging their bets and wishy washy about you.

OK. Stepping off my Good Doctor soapbox. 

Where was I? Oh yes, so here I am, writing about all sorts of things that I feel like I wear on my sleeve but apparently they are not as obvious as I think. Like you really don't know I'm a total goofball at home and I'm rambunctious and ghetto and will bust out a Karate Kid kick on a Bosu ball to prove I have supreme balancing skills? Oh yes I di-id. Neck swivel.  

So thank you for enjoying this verbal catharsis and humoring me and not sending hate emails. Life is much better as a shared adventure.

Realistic

When someone says, "Be realistic," do you take that as a neutral statement or a negative one?

I mean, I know the intention can be neutral or even positive or encouraging, and God knows I have said the wrong thing MANY a time but my intentions were golden. So I'm all about considering someone's intentions and what they meant.

But intentions aside, when you say, "Let's be realistic," you are implying to some degree that the other person is not being realistic. And I am nothing if not realistic. If I entered a beauty pageant, my sash would say "Most Pragmatic." I think I'm pretty down to earth and practical and in touch with reality. I am definitely really real when it comes to my views on the world and the way things should be and the way they are.

So when I hear, "But you should be realistic," I get a little bristly. Like, I AM REALISTIC. I've been REALISTIC every day of my life. Can I get a little hopey changey up in here?