Writing Project: Not all who wander are lost. (+ note on fitness routine!)

Er… about that big writing project I started a few years ago. I dragged it off the back burner. Don’t get all excited – it’s embryonic; it doesn’t look like anything yet. Eventually, it will look like a novel. (I hope.)

I’ve put together a loose agenda that includes a loose daily word count goal and a loose deadline. Everything has to be loose, because everything, as Heraclitus said, is in flux. You can’t nail down that which is in flux, and I’m not even going to try.

In my experience, creativity and prioritizing cancel each other out. Maybe it’s better to say that creativity often sabotages prioritizing, and prioritizing sabotages creativity. In the last few weeks, I’ve found that setting myself up for that clash (by attempting to prioritize my creative writing projects) shorts my brain connections and I wind up going around the house like a droid opening the mail, of all things, and organizing my workout clothing drawers and emptying the dishwasher and making playlists on SoundCloud and so on.  You know. A rose by any other name is still procrastination.

So instead of fixed times, my agenda holds broad ranges of dedicated writing time, and I can shift between the project, poetry, and blog posts (which includes taking pics) as inspiration strikes me.

I’m setting my focus on that big project, though. I purchased a Scrivener license to help manage the ungainliness of it. I even did the full-length version of their interactive tutorial. If it sounds like I mean business this time, it’s because I do!

Nenette’s involvement is essential because I don’t have a choice in that matter.

 

All the water is Nenette's water.

All the water is Nenette’s water.

 

I’m happy to be in a position where I have to apply time-management strategies to solely creative projects. It’s a new challenge, and a very welcome one, at that.

Also, I’ve been thinking about dragging you along on my journey… any of you who may be interested, that is. Sharing the process with you may come with a side benefit of holding myself accountable for progress. I’ll see how things develop as I establish a rhythm!

Note on training:

In addition to my writing schedule, I’ve been hammering out a workout schedule supplemental to Body Combat three times a week. I’ve started a habit of beginning my days at the gym in order to re-create the daily walk I did when I was transporting myself to a job outside of the house. Getting to work used to involve 20 minutes of fasting cardio Monday-Friday, and my body loved it. Fasting cardio is somewhat controversial and not for everyone, but it works for me, so I’ve added that back into my life by going to the gym and walking on the treadmill (and doing a little on the stair-master) before breakfast every weekday morning.

ALSO-also! I’ve been taking 30-40 minutes out of my lunch hour to lift weights in the garage. New Year’s resolution strength-training finally underway, for real! I’ll still post martial arts/combat sports posts here since some of you enjoy those, but just to check in on that New Year’s resolution – the strength-training has been going well. It’s feeling really good to stick to that commitment.

It’s a feline wonderland. (Kitty updates!)

Wow, guys… particularly you kitty-update-loving guys… my apologies. It’s been exactly seven weeks since my last kitty update post. I’ve been slacking.

Not to point the finger at anyone in particular, but NOUNOURS. That big purring ball of affection manages to look the same in every picture, and I don’t have time to stalk him with the camera all day waiting for a fluke to happen so I can get a pic that’s different… and I can’t do a kitty update post without pics of him! I have been trying, though.

 

Nounours' eyes are bluer than yours.

Nounours’ eyes are bluer than yours.

 

[Sidenote: that hen hiding in the shadows in the back of the lower shelf? That’s a door-stop from France that I’d been trying to find. I only found it upon examination of this pic. Thank you, Nounours.]

One of Nounours’ favorite things is to snuggle up to articles of clothing the second they land on the bed.

 

Nounours snuggling Daddy's jeans, because that is how the Nounours do. (nod to zfrank1)

Nounours snuggling Daddy’s jeans, because that is how the Nounours do. (nod to zfrank1)

 

Then there’s Nenette…

 

Nenette chilling on my side of the bed... or, should I say, modeling.

Nenette chilling on my side of the bed… or, should I say, modeling.

 

And look at this. YOU try to tell her “no” and shoo her out of the linen closet!

 

Nenette likes to jump up into the linen closet when I'm putting clean towels away. This is her idea of "helping" Mommy with the laundry.

Nenette likes to jump up into the linen closet when I’m putting clean towels away. This is her idea of “helping” Mommy with the laundry.

 

She can’t even take a bad picture when she comes up and sticks her face in front of the camera.

 

Nenette in a split-second candid shot as she stretches her paw out to me.

Nenette in a split-second candid shot as she stretches her paw out to me.

 

One of Nenette’s new things is rounding up a few of her scattered toys and lining them up like toy soldiers. I kid you not:

 

Kitty toy soldiers.

Kitty toy soldiers.

 

Is it just us being proud kitty parents, or does everyone find this ridiculously cute?

Meanwhile in the backyard, Cita, our unofficially-ours kitty, has made herself more ours than ever. We’re besides ourselves about what to do at this point.

And so here, I guess, is her first real appearance in TALC:

 

Meet Cita!

Meet Cita!

 

I’ve been making it a point to spend time with her throughout the day, because she craves our company, of course… but not much arm-twisting goes into that. She is precious.

 

My attempt at a selfie with Cita. Awkward.

My attempt at a selfie with Cita. Awkward.

 

Cita has a small collection of toys, too. They’re cloth, stuffed, but they’re little stuffed shapes rather than stuffed animals. Several times a day, I go around the yard gathering them so I can group them together where she likes them (on the patio). The strawberry-shaped one is her favorite. It’s my favorite, as well… it’s red and easily detectable in the gravel. The donut-shaped one, though, is a different story. It’s brown and spotted and sometimes it’s a good while before I can find it. It would be so much faster if I had bionic eyes.

I took a picture one time when the donut finally materialized after I spent 10 minutes walking all over the backyard searching for it:

 

Found it!

Found it!

 

It’s like staring at one of those pictures you used to see in the malls in the 80’s, where you stare at the finely detailed recurring pattern until the 3D picture comes into view. Remember those? Your friends could always find the sailboat. You couldn’t.

 

The donut on closer inspection...

The donut on closer inspection…

 

I looked up those pictures; they’re called “autostereograms.”

 

and closer...

and closer…

 

THE DONUT.

THE DONUT.

 

Alright, folks… kitty update post out! Until next time, then.

 

A good thriller, tasty snacks, a fabulous t-shirt, and more! (April Favorites.)

So much went on in April, you’d think it’d have seemed to go by fast… but actually, it seemed like a long month. It was long in a good way, though. The month didn’t drag. It lingered. Here are some little things I loved in April:

 

  1. Hush (movie)

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-Hush

 

 

So many cat-and-mouse horror/thriller movies have been made, it’s hard to be impressed by them. It’s a tired convention; most of these movies are formulaic and too predictable to be “thrilling.” But Hush surprised us in some subtle and not-so-subtle ways, not to mention, we found it to be largely unencumbered by the cheesiness that’s become an expectation of this genre. If you’re into such movies and you can get your hands on this one (we found it online), I recommend it!

ETA: Improvements. I wrote this in too much of a hurry.

 

2. Trader Joe’s frozen organic mango chunks.

 

Trader Joe's frozen organic mango chunks

Trader Joe’s frozen organic mango chunks

 

We’ve been eating these frozen organic mango chunks for dessert after dinner… frozen as in straight out of the freezer, straight out of the bag. It’s like eating creamy mango-flavored Popsicles. They are divine. We have to portion them out, or we’d eat an entire bag in one sitting! Refreshing, luscious frozen desserts don’t get better than this, and it’s just fruit.

 

3. Sun tea.

 

Sun tea

Sun tea

 

Making sun tea for iced tea in Arizona is a given – it’s a tradition; it’s how we do it  – but of course it can be made anywhere there’s sun, I imagine. One of many things I’ve been enjoying about working at home is easy access to iced tea and fresh lemon juice.

 

4. Pro Bar bite organic energy bar (peanut butter chocolate chip).

 

Pro Bar bite organic energy bar in peanut butter chocolate chip

Pro Bar bite organic energy bar in peanut butter chocolate chip

 

You know I’m always on the look-out for energy bars that are wholesome, organic, and chemical-free, and I’m happy to report that these bars by Pro Bar exist. They are delicious. This is my new go-to bar following Body Combat, when I want to replenish a little before dinner happens a couple of hours later. 6 grams of protein, 3 grams of fiber, 8 grams of fat, and 11 grams of sugar… not too bad.

 

5. Trader Joe’s Reduced Guilt Multigrain pita chips with sesame seeds.

 

Trader Joe's Reduced Guilt Multigrain pita chips with sesame seeds

Trader Joe’s Reduced Guilt Multigrain pita chips with sesame seeds

 

I didn’t even know that these were “reduced guilt” pita chips until after I bought them (I was just concerned with the ingredients and the type of carbs they contained). These light and crunchy chips are fabulous with Trader Joe’s incomparable Mediterranean hummus. They’d be great with any kind of hummus or dip.

 

6. Vega Protein & Greens drink mix (vanilla flavor).

 

Vega protein and greens vanilla flavor plant-based protein powder

Vega protein and greens vanilla flavor plant-based protein powder

 

I usually get the Vega smoothie mixes for my protein drinks, but recently I discovered their protein and greens product. One scoop gives you 20 grams of protein with two servings of greens, and it tastes wonderful… the alfalfa, spinach, broccoli, and kale powders are undetectable! With those greens in there, you could blend this powder into a shake with fruit and plant-based milk and get the nutrition you’d get in a complete meal. So far, I’ve only mixed it with cold water, and it’s awesome. (I don’t use it for meal replacement, though… I drink it as a supplement.)

 

7. Derma e antioxidant natural sunscreen with clear zinc oxide SPF 30.

 

derma e Antioxidant Natural Sunscreen with clear zinc oxide (SPC 30)

derma e Antioxidant Natural Sunscreen with clear zinc oxide (SPC 30)

 

I love Lavanila’s The Healthy Sunscreen, which I’d been using since I went cruelty-free last year, but 1). it’s expensive, and 2). I could only find it at Sephora, which I loathe and avoid at all costs.

So I was stoked when I discovered that derma e, my new favorite skincare line, makes a facial sunscreen. Derma e is available at two places we frequent – Target and Sprouts – and the quality of their sunscreen rivals that of Lavanila’s. It’s much more affordable, and I don’t have to fight against panic attacks when I go in to get it (maybe one day I’ll write a whole post about my misadventures in Sephora).

 

8. T-shirt from Tombstone.

 

T-shirt from Tombstone

T-shirt from Tombstone

 

I love, love, LOVE this t-shirt I got when we took Callaghan’s father to Tombstone. The design is totally up my alley, and the rendering of the art is gorgeous. I’m not sure that the picture does it justice! Also, the shirt itself is thin and soft; it feels like I’m wearing pajamas. LOVE.

 

9. Foot socks.

Sometimes I go to Target and I don’t know what happens. Like the time I went to get basic foodstuffs and next thing I knew I was at home trying to explain these socks festooned with dinosaurs, ostriches, and a sunglass-wearing pug on a surfboard.

 

Foot socks from Target that I totally did not need.

Foot socks from Target that I totally did not need.

 

10. Scrivener.

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-Scrivener

 

http://www.literatureandlatte.com/index.php

My thoughts on Scrivener can be summed up in one question: How did anyone ever manage large documents before Scrivener?

 

Unflinching (Haiku 8: Les Mauvaises Herbes) (Sharing original poems.)

This week revolved around ulcer pain. I spent time every day sitting outside with Cita the Unofficially-Ours outdoor cat, studying the weeds in our backyard.

Naturally, the weeds became a rabbit hole, and I fell in.

Haiku 8: Weeds (Les Mauvaises Herbes)

(by Kristi Garboushian)

1.

Aboriginal
acacia, mesquite, all your
rain shelters, sunsets.

Backyard weeds

Backyard weeds

2.

Troubling beauty,
woodwork hovering above
lichen, strychnine, mulch.

Backyard weeds

Backyard weeds

3.

Nomadic, les mauvaises herbes –
weeds unburying giants,
lost impermanence.

Backyard weeds

Backyard weeds

4.

Subtropical silt
flickering immunity:
adornment and stain.

Backyard weeds

Backyard weeds

Thank you for being strange with me, wonderful readers!

Garage gym workout! (Nunchaku practice, because my ninja skills are laughable.)

My plan to do an actual garage gym post turned into a whim masquerading as a garage gym post. By that, I mean that the garage gym shenanigans pictured here actually happened in my office on the spur of the moment.

It’s a nunchaku practice session. I would normally have done it in the garage, but that day last week it was a case of why bother with the hot garage when all I’m going to do is basically stand in one place while I get reacquainted with this weapon. It made sense to do it in the air-conditioned comfort of the house; plus, I was just taking a break from writing.

So it’s not the garage… it’s my office. And it’s not a workout… it’s a practice. Still, it’s martial arts training, which many of you seem to find enjoyable to view. I’m happy to provide!

As you may know, nunchaku are a Japanese (specifically, Okinawan) weapon. Ironically, it’s the only Japanese tradition in my martial arts background, and I never got far with it, unfortunately. That I’m rusty with the nunchaku now is an understatement. I lost track of my last set of practice ‘chuks years ago and I rarely used them years before that, so I can’t even tell you how long it’s been since I’ve last engaged. I recently got this new set online.

 

Your standard 12" foam-covered practice nunchaku

Your standard 12″ foam-covered practice nunchaku

 

I set the camera/phone on the window sill, leaning it up against the glass… just as professional a set-up as in the garage! Haha.

 

Quick glance out the window before grabbing the nunchaku from the corner of my desk.

Quick glance out the window before grabbing the nunchaku from the corner of my desk.

 

My form is poor, I know. Working on it.

 

Afternoon nunchaku practice

Afternoon nunchaku practice

 

I warmed up with some basic spinning techniques, but the ‘chuks go too fast to be seen in those, so I didn’t bother picturing them here. Here’s a slow starting helicopter spin…

 

Afternoon nunchaku practice

Afternoon nunchaku practice

 

What is up with my hand?! Even transitioning into a block, that looks totally wrong.

Please pardon the hilarious expression on my face in these pics. Let’s just say it’s from concentrating so hard on not knocking myself out.

 

Afternoon nunchaku practice

Afternoon nunchaku practice

 

Also, what the hell is going on with my stance??!!!

 

Afternoon nunchaku practice

Afternoon nunchaku practice

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-Nunchaku_1

Afternoon nunchaku practice

 

[**cringing**]

 

Afternoon nunchaku practice

Afternoon nunchaku practice

 

I don’t even… why am I leaning back so far??

 

Afternoon nunchaku practice

Afternoon nunchaku practice

 

Afternoon nunchaku practice

Afternoon nunchaku practice

 

If this made you laugh, then my work here is done.

So, yeah, slightly embarrassing, but there’s a reason why I’m working on this weapon again. I’ll keep practicing what I know, and I’ll learn some more.

I do have to say that the lighting in here is fantastic compared to the lighting in the garage! Natural light is the best, in my opinion, especially for a weapon like this that’s hard to capture in a recording.

On our loss of Prince. On Ethan 103’s release of “Punk Rock Fashion Police.”

At first, I was only going to write about a local punk rock band in celebration of their new song. Then Prince died, and I wanted to say a word about that… but I didn’t know where to begin. I don’t know where to begin. There is, in fact, nowhere to begin. Nothing I could say would be enough.

It’s unnecessary and not enough to remark that once again, we’re in mourning for an icon, dazed by the loss of another staggering talent. It’s only been three months since we mourned for David Bowie.

What would be the point of writing anything more than, “Like everyone, I’m shocked and dismayed at the news of Prince’s sudden death. May he rest in peace.” What am I going to do, blog about my shock and dismay every time we lose a brilliant genius of a musical artist? At the rate it’s been going, I’d have to change the title of my blog to That Asian-Looking Chick Who Only Blogs About Pop Culture Icons’ Deaths. No one wants to read that.

Moreover, there are countless beautiful tributes and eulogies out there more poignant and well-said than anything I could write.

Michael Jackson is gone. Prince is gone. The last one standing out of that particular holy trinity of iconic artists (which owned the radio during my teen years in the 80’s) is Madonna. (Maybe I’ll never have to consider writing about her death, because maybe she’ll outlive us all.)

Prince has been everywhere. Sinéad O’Connor made the song “Nothing Compares 2 U” famous, but Prince wrote it. I never forgot that, because my appreciation for O’Connor started with that song, as I’m sure it did for many of us.

So it’s in the climate of our purple-hued sorrow that I want to highlight this fantastic local Arizona band, Ethan 103, in celebration of their new song, “Punk Rock Fashion Police” – right here in this same post. Because Prince would likely appreciate the correlation. I don’t think he’d want us to stop celebrating music that celebrates individualism, even for a minute. Prince was individualism. David Bowie and Prince were among the few whose art helped to make individualism acceptable, starting with their music.

Arizona Native punk rock band Ethan 103 released “Punk Rock Fashion Police” on Monday, an event that those of us who know these guys have been anticipating for months.

 

Caption from Facebook: "Newly recorded song from Ethan 103 titled "Punk Rock Fashion Police" to be played tonight on AZ 98 KUPD (97.9) FM on the Go Punk Yourself radio airwaves hosted by Craven Moorehead. Tune in 7pm-9pm. Www.ethan103.com as official music video releases tomorrow 4/18/2016."

Caption from Facebook: “Newly recorded song from Ethan 103 titled “Punk Rock Fashion Police” to be played tonight on AZ 98 KUPD (97.9) FM on the Go Punk Yourself radio airwaves hosted by Craven Moorehead. Tune in 7pm-9pm. Www.ethan103.com as official music video releases tomorrow 4/18/2016.”

 

Read the review (written by Yours Truly) and watch the video here:

Video – Punk Rock Fashion Police

“Ethan 103 Incinerates the Scene with new song ‘Punk Rock Fashion Police’.” Indeed, they do. And whether or not Prince was a fan of punk rock, I like to think that he would dig the spirit of this song.

Body Combat Release 67 – Informal Review!

1). I’m stoked to be here talking about the new Les Mills Body Combat release (#67), because that means the class still exists at our gym! So far, all is well in the aftermath of the great gym take-over.

2). I’ve done the new release a few times at this point, so I can say with zero hesitation that this tracklist is my least favorite of them all… of all the ones I’ve done, that is. I enjoy the workout, itself, but… the music.

I can train with no music at all, but if there’s music and it’s unappealing to me and it doesn’t motivate me, that’s a challenge. The first time I worked out to music was in Army basic training, where drill sergeants yell melodic cadences at you and you have to yell them back. The “songs” are meant, among other things, to motivate troops during company runs and marches, and they inspire a strong esprit de corps among the ranks. That experience set my standard of a motivational training soundtrack. I’m beyond hope with Body Combat #67’s music. Dear Les Mills Body Combat music-selecting team: It’s not you, it’s me.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m still getting in a kick-ass workout with #67. I’m just having to reach deeper to seize motivation from within, which, actually, is probably a great exercise in and of itself. So really, no complaints. I’m just saying.

3). Since the music does nothing for me, though, I’m not going to list the names of the songs and my thoughts on them in this review.

4). Someone on Facebook posted a handy meme with the number of techniques done in release #67, so I thought I’d share the info here. Within an hour, we do:

720 jabs, 294 crosses, 389 hooks, 432 uppercuts, 30 circular elbows, 36 ascending elbows, 43 back fists, 80 karate punches, 418 knees, 56 roundhouse knees, 118 front kicks, 44 side kicks, 29 roundhouse kicks, 32 jump kicks, 30 shoots, 32 lunges, 32 scissors, 88 jacks, 64 plank climbers, and 32 push-ups.

And that doesn’t even include the ab track with that one move that always makes me feel like I’m going to throw up. You know the one. That side plank thing where you lift and lower your hips a million times.

Here’s how it breaks down:

Les Mills Body Combat 67

Track 1a: Upper-body Warm-up

  • Jabs
  • Combinations: hook/cross, jab/cross, double uppercuts
  • Lateral shuffle to scissors (I like how they always finish the upper-body warm-up with a move to segue into the lower-body warm-up)

Track 1b: Lower-body Warm-up

  • Shoots
  • Kicks: side kicks; double front kicks; roundhouse kicks
  • Down on the floor? During the warm-up? Plank climbers. Gah.

Track 2: Combat 1

  • Double upper/hook combo
  • Roundhouse knees
  • Back fists; back fist/roundhouse kick combo

Track 3: Power Training 1

  • Jabs, crosses; double jab combo
  • Hooks; hook/jack combo

Track 4: Combat 2

  • Karate punches
  • Roundhouse knee/side kick combo
  • Roundhouse knee/side kick/repeated front kick combo
  • **Dying**
  • Down on the floor for push-ups/plank climbers

Track 5: Power Training 2

  • Uppercuts
  • Upper/cross combo
  • High Intensity Interval Training (H.I.I.T.): running/wide-stance running/4-second sprint intervals

Track 6: Combat 3

  • Back knee/front kick combo
  • Jump kicks
  • Lunges and jump lunges

Track 7: Muay Thai

  • Circular elbow/front knee combo
  • Ascending elbow/knee combo
  • Double knee/single knee combo
  • Running man knees

Track 8: Power Training 3

  • Jab/cross combo
  • Jab/cross/hook combo
  • Jabs (variations)

Track 9: Conditioning

  • Abs: Pulsing side planks super-setted with another torturous plank exercise, then
  • Ab-work lying down
  • Admittedly, it does help that this track is Rihanna. Rihanna makes abs easier somehow.

Track 10: Cool-down!

*****

In summary, #67 is a great lower-body destroyer and upper-body stamina squeezer… shoulders, in particular. I also feel my calves more than usual (during Track 4). The release is heavy on knees and kicks, but light on footwork. The H.I.I.T. sequence in Track 5 isn’t as killer as the H.I.I.T. in the last few releases. #67 brings new challenges, and that’s what’s awesome about it.

For lack of a pic that makes better sense here, I’ve got a selfie I took yesterday morning. This post was in progress and I was thinking how great it is that we still have Body Combat at our gym!

 

T minus 8 hours before heading to the gym.

T minus 8 hours before heading to the gym.

 

BC #67: Great release overall!

Powers that be (Haiku 7: Power) (Sharing original poems.)

Questions I asked myself all week: Does power always, in every circumstance, corrupt? Is power breakable? What would it take to break chains of power, and would it take a super hero or a super villain to break them?

In these new haiku, I explore the correlation between power and corruption.

Haiku 7: Power

(by Kristi Garboushian)

1.

Grand tribulation:
oak doors hewn by elected
justice. Reckoning.

Power of position

Power of position

2.

Preternatural –
czars savoring backfire,
litanies of blood.

Power of risk

Power of risk

3.

Gold, palladium…
lustrous, incorruptible,
soft nobility.

Power of heritage

Power of heritage

4.

Ravishing spittoon:
molten glass posterity.
Inheritable.

Power of fortune

Power of fortune

In a lighter vein, the week wound back down to normalcy after the in-laws departed. It was a good visit. We took them to typical Arizona places (i.e. Tombstone, Sedona), and they ventured down into the Grand Canyon. They saw a fraction of what Arizona has to offer… one really needs more than a week to take in all of its splendors. Our guests enjoyed what little they experienced.

I sleep-ninja. (I have somnambulninja.) (Also, sleep and other unfair advantages.)

The quality of my sleep has improved a lot in the last three weeks. I even slept through my alarm one day. It happened on a Sunday, still the only day of the week I sleep in until 8:30.

My body sensed the height of the sun and the lateness of the morning. Panic brewed before I opened my eyes. It was 9:30. “What happened to my alarm?” I asked Callaghan. “I set it for 8:30!”

“You asked me to turn it off, so I did,” Callaghan said.

Sure.

I use the alarm on my phone, which I keep next to my side of the bed at night. I’ve never failed to wake up and turn it off. I’ve certainly never asked him to turn it off for me.

“You were awake and we talked for a little while,” he continued. “Then you went back to sleep.”

“I don’t understand… how could I have done that without remembering…”

“But you did.”

“Really?”

He looked at me for a second. Then he changed his story:

“You woke up. You beat me up. You disappeared!” he claimed. “You don’t remember?”

And that would be why we don’t own a gun.

“I disappeared?” I wasn’t about to voice the morbid sarcasm that popped into my head. I was going to pursue the intriguing part of his claim: that I disappeared.

“Yes. You disappeared. You beat me up and then you disappeared.”

I thought about it for a second.

 

My ninja t-shirt. "Today's Lesson: Division"

My ninja t-shirt. “Today’s Lesson: Division”

 

“I sleep-ninja’d,” I said. “A sleep-walker is a somnambulist… I’m a somnambulninja.”

“I guess.”

“What other ninja things have I done in my sleep?” I was pleased with my epiphany.

“You texted that one girl and plotted something. I don’t remember what because I was asleep, too, and you sleep-deleted it. But it was sinister.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be you,” I broke in, still thinking about his claim. “I mean, if I was going to beat anyone up, it wouldn’t be you. But I wouldn’t beat anyone up at all unless it was in self-defense. Anything other than that wouldn’t be necessary.”

“Why not?”

“Because what comes around, goes around. If someone does me wrong, I wouldn’t worry about it, because they’d get theirs eventually. I wouldn’t have to do a thing.”

And that reminded me of the folk song “God’s Gonna Cut You Down”… specifically, Johnny Cash’s cover. Have you seen the video?

 

 

Well you may throw your rock and hide your hand
Workin’ in the dark against your fellow man
But as sure as God made black and white
What’s done in the dark will be brought to the light

You can run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Sooner or later God’ll cut you down
Sooner or later God’ll cut you down

Not sure how I digressed into the laws of moral causation when this was just to mention that I’ve been sleeping well. Sleep is good. It’s good for the sleeper, and it’s good for people who want to claim that you said and did things while you were sleeping. Excuse me while I disappear.

Skeletons in the closet (Office revamp – the unabridged version)

At present, joyous times are being had with our houseguests (my in-laws) from France, who will stay with us a few more days yet. All manner of general housecleaning needed to be done before they arrived, but I spent the better part of last week taking apart my office, sorting through unwanted miscellany (“garbage,” “recycle,” “Goodwill”), and putting the room back together.

Most of the action took place beneath the surface in the closet and drawers, so the room itself doesn’t look much different now than it did last week. Even so, it’s different to my eyes, which had beheld the spectacle of the room’s innards strewn about on the floor and piled up on furniture over the few days it took me to analyze it all. I felt like a forensics investigator. What has been seen cannot be unseen, as they say. It was a lot of crap.

The terrain of my desk changed slightly when I added a lamp, which makes all the difference. This is now my full-time work environment, so my office needed a desk lamp more than the dining nook did. (Another lamp has taken its place in the dining nook, anyway.)

You knew where this was leading… I’ve got the photographic tour here for anyone who may be interested, such as you fine readers who’d asked about my Table of Death when I mentioned it a week ago. It started as a raucous, dark joke with a friend when I showed her the table and realized just then that a Dia de los Muertos bag hangs in that corner (pure happenstance, which prompted the hilarity – you had to be there). Laughing about it helped to mitigate the somberness of that part of the room, but it helped further when another friend asked to see the table and called it a “Table of Remembrance.” So, yeah. I like pairing that brighter perspective with the dark humor one.

Enough about that. 360 office tour ahoy!

As seen from the doorway:

 

inside left corner (desk)

inside left corner (desk)

 

Desk (top view)

Desk (top view)

 

Desk corner detail: Valentine's Roses 2014, original art by Callaghan "not cal" by Not Cal, California ex-pats in Arizona

Desk corner detail:
Valentine’s Roses 2014, original art by Callaghan
“not cal” by Not Cal, California ex-pats in Arizona

 

Long wall to the left (with tapestry and twinkle lights)

Long wall to the left (with tapestry and twinkle lights)

 

Window wall across from the doorway (with futon)

Window wall across from the doorway (with futon)

 

Far right corner (Table of Death/Remembrance)

Far right corner (Table of Death/Remembrance)

 

Wall to the right (closet)

Wall to the right (closet)

 

Behind the door (Lucha Libre poster, boxing gloves, bags, hats)

Behind the door (Lucha Libre poster, boxing gloves, bags, hats)

 

Door-frame (pull-up bar overhead)

Door-frame (pull-up bar overhead)

 

This concludes our tour. I won’t be needing to cover a door window in this office, but the door here stays open, anyway.

Dusting off secrets (Haiku 6: Shadows) (Sharing original poems.)

Without preamble, I’ll go ahead and acknowledge that this set of haiku turned out to be just the faintest bit… creepy? Spooky? It wasn’t intentional, I swear. Not that I mind it in the least, though. I’m fond of creepy and spooky, and I like that these haiku came out this way of their own accord. Classical haiku has a way of taking on lives of their own within the 5-7-5 structure.

Haiku 6: Shadows

(by Kristi Garboushian)

1.

Patterns will shelter
the historic, ancestral,
extinguished, entombed.

Shadow tree

Shadow tree

2.

Prehistoric ghost
running Santa Monica
stairs, eyeteeth intact.

Shadow bike

Shadow bike

3.

Indeterminate
aging, voiceless between your
guardians… landlocked.

Shadow fence

Shadow fence

4.

Palpable swivel:
alleles in a basin,
suspended in space.

Shadow self

Shadow self

In other news, we’ll have family visiting from France this week. They’re coming in tomorrow. I sense a whirlwind of housecleaning activity in today’s forecast… always a great side benefit of visitors!

Minor lifequake, big result. (and a few March favorites.)

The end of March found me largely uninspired where March Favorites were concerned. Truth be told, there weren’t many “little things” in March that significantly made my days brighter or my life happier. Rather, a few big things made the month notable, including my abrupt, exhilarating flight into another occupational dimension. A confounding series of events and an irreparable set of circumstances helped to catapult me here. I jumped… and I landed on my feet. I won’t write about said events and circumstances because they’re boring, and no one wants to read The Boring. Suffice it to say that my great launch proved to be entirely appropriate, and I am happy. And grateful! Very grateful.

Right. Well… here are a few “little things” that captivated me in March!

 

1). Bates Motel (T.V. series)

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-BatesMotelSeason1

 

With some amount of skepticism, we thought we’d give this Psycho backstory series a try. By the end of the first episode, we knew we were in for some serious binge-watching. It turns out that there’s much more to this series than 17-year-old Norman Bates and his mother moving into the hotel to assume ownership and a fresh start. This is excellent T.V.

 

2). Burt’s Bees tinted lip balm in Sweet Violet.

 

Burt's Bees tinted lip balm in Sweet Violet.

Burt’s Bees tinted lip balm in Sweet Violet.

 

My obsession with Burt’s Bees lip products knows no bounds. I picked up this tinted lip balm to use when I want just a suggestion of color on my lips, and lo, it’s even creamier than my beloved B.B. coconut and pear lip balm! The Sweet Violet color is beautiful, and no, it doesn’t taste sweet.

 

3). derma e Firming DMAE Eye Lift.

 

derma e Firming DMAE Eye Lift

derma e Firming DMAE Eye Lift

 

I’d been using an expensive eye cream from Tarte that I loved, but it fell just short of cruelty-free eye cream perfection. This one by derma e comes closer, and it’s half the price of the one by Tarte. Also, bonus! I found it at Target, along with this night cream from the same line:

 

4). derma e Hydrating Night Cream.

 

derma e Hydrating Night Cream

derma e Hydrating Night Cream

 

I’ve never been a fan of flowery scented face creams, but this one, I love. The cream itself is rich without being too thick, hydrating without being watery, and just all around luxurious. Its scent of spring wildflowers only adds to its appeal. I will definitely be re-purchasing this night cream when I’ve used up this jar.

 

5). Overhauled home office.

 

The only cat allowed on my desk is this porcelain one I've had for over 30 years.

The only cat allowed on my desk is this porcelain one I’ve had for over 30 years.

 

I moved my office set-up out of its guest bedroom quarters and re-situated it in the room that’s actually my office, a decision made entirely by Nounours and Nenette, who aren’t allowed in the guest bedroom. That was the point! I wanted to work undisturbed. But I couldn’t stand day after day of sad little kitty faces and pitiful mews and paws under the door, so here I am back in my real office. This is a good thing. The kitties aren’t all over my desk as they usually are – like somehow, they know – and I love my office. It’s huge, for one thing.

The floor to ceiling tapestry on the wall next to my desk is the original one; it inspired the smaller one that I’d had in my outside-the-home office:

 

Sunset and twinkle lights in my office

Sunset and twinkle lights in my office

 

And:

 

A sleeping cat on a futon, because home office.

A sleeping cat on a futon, because home office.

 

I didn’t photograph the wall opposite the tapestry because there’s no need to showcase the Table of Death that took shape as I arranged things in here the other day. Nope. No need.

 

6). Backyard rocks.

 

Rocks masquerading as turquoise mixed throughout the gravel in our backyard

Rocks masquerading as turquoise mixed throughout the gravel in our backyard

 

It happened the other day that I was digging through our expanse of rocks in the backyard (don’t ask), and I found that we have these turquoise-colored stones throughout. I looked them up. It seems that they’re some kind of coppery mineral. I never knew they were there! A glass tumbler filled with a few of the brighter, more deeply colored ones now sits on the Table of Death.

 

**the end**

Garage gym session! (Martial arts knuckle conditioning)

Knuckle conditioning for martial arts is a controversial topic. Criticism of the practice smacks of reason (pun intended), mainly claiming that it’s dangerous for the practitioner, it’s unnecessary, and it’s a waste of time.

Still, I do it. After giving it some thought, I’ve decided to include it in this series.* Reiterating for the sake of anyone new here: strength-training is one of my New Year’s resolutions; I learned last year that documenting my resolution efforts has a positive effect. (“Strength-training” now broadened to “any and all manner of garage gym work-outs” as far as documentation goes.)

So knuckle conditioning is “dangerous for the practitioner, unnecessary, and a waste of time.” Why do I do it, then, assuming that the claims are true?

Because I enjoy it.

Because I like knowing that if I have to punch someone in a situation, damage to my hands would be minimized since they’ve been conditioned to sustain impact.

Because I have no aspirations to work as a hand model, anyway.

Here’s a slew of snipped pics from video footage of my latest knuckle conditioning garage gym session. There are probably many methods and apparatuses that people use… in this session, it’s just me and my trusty MMA dummy and a heavy, solid piece of particle board covered in wood veneer (which I’ll refer to as a “wood board” for ease).

Pardon the snipping-tool ghost that appears in most of these images! I’ll make sure to avoid that next time.

Bare-knuckle hard punching on the MMA dummy:

 

Positioning myself.

Positioning myself.

 

I don’t have a rock-solid heavy bag, but the MMA dummy is heavy enough to do the job. Here I’m showing clips of work I did on its ass end, but I work on all areas of the bag. There’s variation in its density from end to end.

Horizontal punches:

 

Right horizontal punch

Right horizontal punch

 

As you can see from the position of my non-punching hand, all of the strikes I threw in this session were chambered punches (i.e. Tae Kwan Do/Karate, as opposed to boxing).

 

Left horizontal punch

Left horizontal punch

 

Vertical punches:

 

Right vertical punch

Right vertical punch

 

I start the set with the dummy close to my body. Each punch pushes it back, but I stay in the same place. This allows for striking at various distances, from close-range to fully-extended punches. I also vary the height of the punches, aiming for low, middle, and high targets. If I wanted to punch at eye-level, I’d lean the bag up against the wall and kneel in front of it.

 

Left vertical punch

Left vertical punch

 

I usually do 5-8 sets of however many punches it takes to push the bag beyond my reach, alternating slow punches with speed punches from set to set.

Next, what I call “knuckle-walking” on the wood board. This is where I “strike” (but nowhere near full-power, of course) the board with my bare knuckles. I do this from a kneeling push-up position.

Horizontal punches:

 

Wood board right horizontal punch

Wood board right horizontal punch

 

This board is an extra shelf from one of our large IKEA bookcases, by the way. They’re not making that particular bookcase anymore.

 

Wood board left horizontal punch

Wood board left horizontal punch

 

I hit the board with each fist alternately, walking my punches from bottom to top and then back down again.

Vertical punches:

 

Wood board right vertical punch

Wood board right vertical punch

 

Wood board left vertical punch

Wood board left vertical punch

 

I’ll also do sets where I twist my wrist from horizontal to vertical as I go. There are many variations on this that keep it interesting, and variations are always beneficial.

One knuckle conditioning exercise I practice regularly is knuckle push-ups, which I do because push-ups flat on my palms are uncomfortable due to my wrist inflexibility.

When I do knuckle push-ups for knuckle conditioning purposes, though, I do them on the wood board. I like to do a slow push-up and hold the position for about 10 seconds at each level:

 

Wood board push-up, bottom

Wood board push-up, bottom

 

Wood board push-up, middle

Wood board push-up, middle

 

Wood board push-up, top

Wood board push-up, top

 

That was all I did in this session. You know I had to include that silly shot of me walking back at the end…

 

Done!

Done!

 

Weather report in the garage: it’s heating up! This session wasn’t unbearable, though. We haven’t deployed any fans yet. For now, I’m just keeping the door open.

*The usual disclaimer applies: I’m not a trainer of any kind, and I do not recommend doing anything in this post without the supervision of a qualified instructor.

My week in Haiku (Haiku 5: Emancipation) (Sharing original poems.)

[** This personal haiku discipline I’ve started has become something of a pleasurable habit. Helpful hint, if you’re so inclined: I’ve grouped my growing collection of themed haiku sets here. You can also click the link in the “Poetry” category in the sidebar. **]

I’m coming off of a fantastic and unusually creatively charged week, probably the most so of 2016 thus far. I wrote this set of haiku to sum it up…

Haiku 5: Emancipation

(by Kristi Garboushian)

1.

Disingenuous
snakes boiling over it all:
Laissez-moi tranquille.

"The Art of Strategy" (R.L. Wing, new translation of Sun Tzu's "The Art of War")

“The Art of Strategy” (R.L. Wing, new translation of Sun Tzu’s “The Art of War”)

2.

Serendipity.
No secret provocation,
no sly dorsal fin.

Newly created path.

Newly created path.

3.

Bear witness: Too much
blinding white noise, stochastic
resonance. Failure.

Live a great story (and learn).

Live a great story (and learn).

4.

Current volition:
auspices of Minerva,
prosaic temple.

My new office set-up – at home. Blessed.

My new office set-up – at home. Blessed.

There is not a paper on that desk.

The adventures of a pug (nightshirt).

Last week was eventful in my little world.

I have this nightshirt that I love. It’s a loose white t-shirt, thin, soft, and comfortably cool in hot weather. Functionally, it’s great for summer, but it’s designed around a Christmas theme, which doesn’t make sense in the northern hemisphere.

Callaghan hates the nightshirt… not because of its Christmas theme, but because of its overall unfortunate look. I can see where he’s coming from. The shirt features the face of a pug. The masterminds behind the nightshirt made the pug look unsightly with a “so ugly it’s cute” kind of intention. The pug is wearing a festive red Santa hat, which is how you know it’s a Christmas nightshirt (for someone in Australia, that is, since it’s thin, cool, and ideal in hot weather). There are gold Christmas lights in the background, and below the pug’s portrait, it says #SELFIE in glittery gold paint. The pug is grimacing, presumably because he’s smiling for his picture.

Hilarious, right? Pugs are adorable. A pug in a Santa hat taking a selfie at Christmas is adorable. Pugs were in vogue when I bought the nightshirt, and the word “selfie” had probably just been invented, and it was December, so all three of those things on a summery nightshirt had to be a triple win.

Callaghan maintains that it’s the ugliest and most ridiculous nightshirt in the history of nightshirts.

Really, I can’t blame him. I don’t know how much I’d appreciate getting into bed with a lover wearing that shirt, either. Its pug portrait fails to make sense. It attempts to convey a message, but the message doesn’t match the picture. It strives for an aesthetic, but it doesn’t achieve it. It’s trying to be hip, but the pug isn’t holding a PBR. Overreaching for novelty, the nightshirt’s very ambitions, however admirable, are its downfall. The nightshirt is having an identity crisis caught in a gold-glittered tangle of WTF. The nightshirt might even work as birth control.

Despite its failings, I loved that nightshirt. Then I lost it. It just vanished one day, going into the laundry, but not coming out, like so many socks. It wasn’t the first beloved article of clothing I’d lost, but the disappearance of this particular one made me suspicious.

“You took it,” I accused Callaghan. “You think it’s ugly and you hate it so you stole it.”

“What are you talking about.”

“My pug. You hate when I wear it to bed, so you took it!”

“No.”

“What did you do with it? Are you sure you didn’t accidentally… misplace it?”

“Mais non!”

When the conversation goes from English to French, it’s getting serious.

I have to believe him, because marriage is about trust and giving your partner the benefit of the doubt, I told myself.

Going with the assumption that Callaghan didn’t take the pug, I tried to fathom what might have become of it. Of course, I imagined the worst. The pug fell into the hands of Russian mobsters. The pug got eaten by a shark (in Kansas). The pug is being held hostage in a joystick sweatshop in Bangladesh. The pug is smoking weed in the desert. I wondered if I was going to start receiving photographs of the pug in random far-off places, wearing hats other than the Santa hat.

It turned out that the pug had gotten separated from the laundry as it was being dumped into the washing machine. It had been wedged between the washer and the wall all this time.

I found it last week when I was frantically trying to rescue a large, beautiful squirrel who’d been chased into the laundry room by an outdoor cat (who adopted us, but we’re not supposed to admit to that, so she’s ours, but only unofficially, and we named her “Cita” as in Mamacita, but you didn’t hear any of this from me). I’ve lived in the Valley for 25 years and I didn’t even know that there were squirrels here until I found this one burrowing into the folds of my pug nightshirt.

I was elated to have found the pug, but looking at it through fresh eyes that hadn’t seen it in months, I couldn’t remember why I’d been so enamored with it. Its charm had been replaced by actuality. The whole picture of the pug was something nonsensical that confused me. The chaos of it canceled out its comfort value. In fact, it wasn’t even as comfortable as it used to be… it had pilled, and the pilling made the thin fabric more textured than soft. (Making things more disconcerting was the fact that I love actual pugs and find all of them to be adorable.)

 

Looking possessed in the pug nightshirt, and still trying to figure out how people take mirror selfies.

Looking possessed in the pug nightshirt, and still trying to figure out how people take mirror selfies.

 

So I don’t wear the pug nightshirt anymore. It’s not as comfortable as it used to be, and Callaghan still hates it. I’ve given it up. I’ve tucked it into a drawer and walked away from it. I just threaten to wear it at opportune times.

What’s new in the Kittyverse? (Nounours and Nenette updates!)

Today, I come to you with a much-requested kitty update. By popular demand, here’s what’s new in the Kittyverse chez nous!

Nounours: Callaghan and I have noticed that when we text Nounours’ name, the auto-correct changes his name to “NonUsers.” Yes. Non-Users. This cracks us up because it’s so fitting… Nounours’ merits are sweetness, lovableness, huggableness, and companionableness. Smarts don’t figure into the equation of the Nounours, and the only real emotion we can ever see behind his big, blue eyes is jealousy. But that’s okay. He’s an armful of loudly purring teddy bear. He’s the teddy bear your five-year-old self always wanted to come to life.

Nounours’ superhero power: Shedding and teleporting his fur to far-off places for you to find when you least expect it. This is his way of making sure that you never forget him.

Nenette: In the spring weather we’ve been having, she’s been enjoying catching mosquitoes… those big, floofy male ones you see in the house from time to time. We can’t understand how she does it. The mosquito will be lightly bouncing along the wall high up by the ceiling, like they do; Nenette will be sitting patiently beneath it, and next thing we know, it’s in her mouth and she’s chomping away. She’s also extremely playful, despite being eight months older now. She actually makes up sophisticated games and teaches us how to play them.

Nenette’s superhero power: Solving complex differential equations and writing ground-breaking mathematical proofs in her sleep.

Together, Nounours and Nenette have reached a point in their relationship where they have four modes: Tolerating each other, glaring at each other, “playing” (Nounours and Nenette-speak for chasing each other around and clearly having no fun at all, and sometimes, every once in a very great while, actually reposing near each other for no apparent reason.

 

Nenette and Nounours, together in their pod. They even look like peas.

Nenette and Nounours, together in their pod. They even look like peas.

 

I’m sorry to say that in the weeks since my last kitty update, I’ve tried to snap good pics of Nounours, but it’s so difficult. He’s difficult to photograph. For one thing, he usually doesn’t stay put long enough for me to get a clear shot. But I thought this was cute:

 

Nounours holding my hand is pretty much the sweetest thing ever.

Nounours holding my hand is pretty much the sweetest thing ever.

 

Then there’s Nenette, who’s a natural in front of a camera and couldn’t take a bad picture if she tried.

 

Nenette reading Anne Sexton's letters up on the bookcase.

Nenette reading Anne Sexton’s letters up on the bookcase.

 

Nenette trying to keep me from going to work. (*winks at Aunty Carol*)

Nenette trying to keep me from going to work. (*winks at Aunty Carol*)

 

We bought this giant toy rat for Nounours, but he doesn’t know what to do with it except ignore it. Nenette, on the other hand, likes to pull it toward her to use as a pillow.

 

Nenette and her rat pillow.

Nenette and her rat pillow.

 

Nenette playing E.T. with some of her toys.

Nenette playing E.T. with some of her toys.

 

Nenette chewing her toes with great concentration.

Nenette chewing her toes with great concentration.

 

Nenette, the epitome of a girly-girl.

Nenette, the epitome of a girly-girl.

 

I truly wish I could get as many pics of Nounours. I’ll keep trying!

On Keith Emerson, who hit all the high notes.

Honestly, I don’t feel my age, but just in case we older Gen-Xer’s need a reality check with which to pay our AARP memberships, our music icons have been biting the dust at a startling rate. In the last few months, we’ve lost Lemmy Kilmister and David Bowie… and also Glenn Frey, who co-wrote one of my favorite ballads, “Desperado,” a song that’s all the more haunting now.

But Keith Emerson, who was to keyboards what Hendrix was to guitar, died last week, and I’ve been thinking about him since then. For those who may not be familiar with Emerson and his gifts, he was a preternaturally talented musician… a music composer, synthesizer artist, and inarguably one of the best keyboardists in the history of keyboards. Emerson’s was the death that resonated with me as a loss I felt on a personal level.

 

Keith Emerson (photo from likesuccessdotcom)

Keith Emerson (photo from likesuccessdotcom)

 

This is going to be redundant for you FaceBook friends who’ve already seen this post, this clumsy attempt at expressing myself in the moment, but I’m pasting it here rather than rewriting it, or writing something different:

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-OnKeithEmerson

 

 

 

Also, lest we forget the range of Emerson’s talent, here’s his Piano Concerto No. 1:

 

 

Rest In Peace, Keith Emerson.

Installation (Haiku 4: Car, pendulum, bougainvillea, interactive art) (Sharing original poems.)

Callaghan woke me up 25 minutes after the alarm should have gone off this morning. The alarm – my phone – failed to function one time before, and I couldn’t figure out why since I knew I’d set it. I didn’t understand why it happened this morning, either, and I was going to ask Callaghan if he’d heard the alarm and I somehow slept through it, except he was busy reading his email from Cècil the Goat in France (I asked him three times if the guy’s name was really La Chèvre because I was half-asleep and could have misheard him: Is his name really La Chèvre? Yes, it was), so I double-checked my phone and found that I’d accidentally set the alarm for tomorrow. Saturday. I SO wanted the week to be over that I subconsciously set the alarm for Saturday?

Anyway, I wrote another set of haiku last weekend in my mostly muted state (re-occurrence of laryngitis), and I was going to post it on Tuesday, but UFC 196 happened on Saturday night and I wanted to talk about that, instead. So here are the haiku.

This set of haiku was inspired by some pics I took on a stroll around my work campus.

Haiku 4: Car, pendulum, bougainvillea, art installation

(by Kristi Garboushian)

1.

Curved mannequin, all
disintegration, gesture,
all black-framed, rasping.

"Society of Automobile Engineers Formula 1992 Restoration Project"

“Society of Automobile Engineers Formula 1992 Restoration Project”

2.

Brass validation:
rethinking embodiment,
limbic perversion.

Foucault Pendulum

Foucault Pendulum

3.

Equatorial
skeletal recognition
(kaleidoscopic).

Towering wall of bougainvillea.

Towering wall of bougainvillea.

4.

Critical dissent
momentarily vocal,
avoiding earshot.

Multimedia art installation (Todd Ingalls)

Multimedia art installation (Todd Ingalls)

I must say, I’m enjoying writing these haiku.

UFC 196/MMA chatter (co-main events)!

I didn’t think this would be a post in and of itself. I actually wrote some new haiku I wanted to share today, but at the same time, I wanted to share my reaction to the outcomes of Saturday’s co-main events on the UFC 196 fight card in Las Vegas. Needless to say, the two things did not mix.

MMA at the top of the post loomed awkwardly over the haiku; leaving it there might have led you to expect my haiku to be about MMA (which, actually, might be a fun challenge for future haiku).

MMA after the haiku made the post look like two separate posts, which it basically was. So I separated them. UFC 196 today, Haiku 4 on Friday!

Really, though, I just wanted to briefly share my reaction to the co-main events at UFC 196.

 

 

UFC fighter Miesha Tate

UFC fighter Miesha Tate

 

Holm-Tate

(Starting with the women because this fight was my primary focus.)

You would think that a long-time Holly Holm fan would’ve been disappointed by Holm’s loss. I would have totally expected that of myself, too, so I was astonished to be thrilled – actually jubilant – for Miesha when she choked out Holly and won the belt!

My reaction didn’t surprise Callaghan, because he felt the same way.

It makes sense that I felt the way I did, though. A fan of Tate’s as well as Holm’s, I’d been happy for Tate when it was announced that she would challenge Holm for the title, especially considering how down and frustrated Tate had been when the shot against Rousey was given to Holm. Tate is talented, and she’s worked hard. She’s done her time in the octagon and more than earned that belt. In my mind, she was overdue for that belt.

(Aside: We didn’t go out to watch the fights. We stayed in and binge-watched the new season of House of Cards as I was trying to heal my vocal cords, which once again crapped out on me over the weekend. Yep – woke up on Saturday morning, no voice! You can BET I didn’t get anywhere near that fight card as I was making efforts to resist trying to talk. Later that night I jumped on Twitter to find the fight results.)

From what I’ve gathered online, the Holm-Tate fight unfolded into the extraordinary battle I was expecting. Holm and Tate are extraordinary combat athletes. With their opposite strengths, the two fought an intensely tactical fight that very nearly went the distance, right there distinguishing the match from previous bouts in the UFC’s women’s bantamweight division.

I’m pleased for Tate, and I’m not worried about Holm. Holm is a relatively fresh face in the UFC. She’s just getting started!

It’s thrilling to watch the UFC’s female ranks evolve… and evolving, they still are. Women have only fought in the UFC for four years. Thanks to Rousey storming the scene with her sensational wins, women caught the MMA world’s attention and staked out a claim of recognition and ownership in the sport for themselves. And thanks to Holm shaking things up with her upset win against Rousey, the women’s bantamweight division got a whole lot more competitive, unpredictable, and intriguing. It’s all played out beautifully, and I’m looking forward to what the future will bring! From here, starting with Tate taking the belt from Holm, anything goes.

McGregor-Diaz

I have much less to say about this fight since I don’t follow the men nearly as much as I follow the women. I can say, though, that the outcome of the McGregor-Diaz bout DID genuinely surprise me, mainly because Diaz took the fight with two weeks’ notice. He had a mere two weeks to prepare before getting into the octagon with McGregor after McGregor’s original opponent, Rafael Dos Anjos, pulled out with a broken foot! SURPRISE: Diaz, as everyone knows, choked out McGregor.

Summary: The two underdogs choked out the champs on Saturday night. The UFC 196 show in Las Vegas delivered unexpected outcomes… and I love a show when you can’t guess the ending.

T.V. series, food obsessions, and more: February Favorites!

Well so hey, it’s March. Want to know what I loved in February? I’m going to tell you.

 

1). Luther (T.V. series)

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-Luther2

 

Because Idris Elba is my boyfriend current favorite actor, and this series is awesome.

 

2). 11-22-63 (T.V. mini-series)

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-112263

 

Because Stephen King’s magic always thrills, no matter where a closet transports you when you walk deep into it. (And I’m not talking about Narnia.)

 

3). Better Call Saul (T.V. series)

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-BetterCallSaulS2

 

Because honestly, we couldn’t be more impressed with a T.V. show. Season 2 of Better Call Saul is blowing our minds.

 

4). Walking to and from work again.

 

Waiting at the train tracks on the way home.

Waiting at the train tracks on the way home.

 

Because I’ve been immensely enjoying the walk (five days a week to work, and three days a week home). It adds up to roughly 16 miles per week with a heavy backpack on my back. I make it a personal challenge to always improve my time, but the time is hard to gauge because of the red light variable. Sometimes I spend up to 10 minutes waiting to cross streets, and sometimes I make all the lights and only have to wait at one. ETA: And sometimes, I have to wait for the train.

 

5). Super cheap yin-yang necklace.

 

Cheap necklace from Claire's.

Cheap necklace from Claire’s.

 

Because I wandered into Claire’s across from the vision place in the mall where Callaghan was trying on new glasses, and this yin-yang necklace caught my eye. It was six bucks. I love it.

 

6). Cetirizine, aka “Zyrtec” (allergy medication).

 

Ceterizine antihistamine is everything.

Ceterizine antihistamine is everything.

 

Because this antihistamine allows me to breathe in the gorgeous scent of orange blossoms in the air, which is to say, ALL the air. My daily stomping grounds are currently orange-blossom-scent-saturated, and thanks to Ceterizine, it’s all appreciation, no sneezing.

If you’re like me and you’re allergic to every species of pollen on the earth as well as on all the other planets in our solar system, you’ll know what I’m talking about. You can get cetirizine/Zyrtec over the counter at any drugstore. I happen to get mine as a prescription.

 

7). Beanitos.

 

Beanitos chips

Beanitos chips

 

Because we tried these chips on a whim, and now we’re obsessed. I don’t use that word lightly. We seriously love these chips. They’re mainly made of beans, and there’s some rice and sunflower and/or safflower oil, guar bean gum (gotta have some kind of b.s. in there to keep them crisp), and sea salt. They’re high in protein, fiber, and iron, and they’re delicious. They’re awesome with guacamole. The original black bean one is my favorite.

 

8). Cookies.

 

Cookies from Trader Joe's. Yes, they're vegan.

Cookies from Trader Joe’s. Yes, they’re vegan.

 

Because there are too many cookies, and someone’s got to eat them.

I know that eating lots of refined carbs isn’t the best thing for the body, but I’ve been eating sugar pretty much constantly since the beginning of this year, and other than the occasional zit, nothing bad has happened. When a painful eruption happens on my face, I stop eating sugar until it goes away. Then I start again. Haha.

Trader Joe’s has some of my favorite packaged vegan cookies. I’m still eating the vegan cookies, doughnuts, and chocolate-chip scones from the Whole Foods bakery (as well as dark chocolate and tsoynamis from Green), but cookies are an essential of life.

Other than sweets, though, I do avoid refined carbs. I only eat whole wheat/grain pasta and bread, sweet potatoes (except for french fries every now and again), and brown rice – not the white kinds of all of that.

 

9). 365 brand pasta sauce.

 

365 Organic tomato basil pasta sauce

365 Organic tomato basil pasta sauce

 

With pasta always and forever being my favorite food group, and rarely having time to really cook (plus always wanting to cook other things than sauce when I do have time), this sauce means a lot to me. We like to joke that Whole Foods is Whole Paycheck, but the fact of the matter is that 365, their generic brand, has a lot to offer at surprisingly reasonable prices. This pasta sauce is simple, organic, vegan, and tasty. I thicken it up with a generous amount of nutritional yeast and add dried oregano, red pepper flakes, and a little sea salt, and it’s marvelous. We also get Whole Foods’ 365 brand pasta. We eat pasta at least twice a week, on average, so this stuff is important.

 

10).  Pears.

 

Pears

Pears

 

Because I love fruit, and the pears are wonderful these days. I don’t know if these are Anjou pears or Bartlett pears – they’re next to each other in the store, and we grab pears from both without looking at the labels (they pretty much look the same) – but it doesn’t matter. It’s all good.

The season of my favorite foods that grow on bushes or trees is upon us! Hello, hefty artichokes and fresh pineapple every day.

Strength-training shenanigans (garage gym workout!)

After dealing with pesky back-to-back viruses that both involved low-grade fever and high-grade fatigue, among other things, I made it back to the garage on Sunday. By then I’d gone to Body Combat twice since recovering, though.

I was determined to make my first garage workout in two weeks a strength-training workout, because that was the whole point of this series of garage gym workout posts: To hold myself accountable for my New Year’s resolution of incorporating strength-training into my weekly conditioning routine. So far, I’ve only done martial arts and general conditioning posts. I like doing a variety of workouts, but let’s face it… it’s time to get down to business here!

I went in thinking I’d do a dumbbell workout, but I ended up mostly using our MMA dummy. I saw it lying there and thought, why not?

 

The MMA dummy has many uses. Today, it's my main strength-training weight.

The MMA dummy has many uses. Today, it’s my main strength-training weight.

 

Do not think for a minute that I picked this thing up and threw it onto my shoulders.

Unfortunately, I can’t entertain you with the maneuverings and contortions involved in hoisting it up there. As usual, I snipped these pics from video footage. The way it works is I set up my camera (phone) in its designated place so the view of the room is the same every time I record. There was no way the MMA dummy operation was going to happen in view of the camera. The dummy weighs 50 lbs (nearly half of my weight), and it’s ungainly. I needed to find something that could assist me, and whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be in the middle of the mat. We’re careful to avoid even wearing shoes on the mat!

Looking around the garage, I spotted the chair near the back door. The chair has arms. I could place the dummy across the arms and then slip my head under it, the way you do with a bar on a rack at the gym! Problem solved.

It didn’t work as easily as I thought it would.

The chair has wheels, so after a few comically failed attempts, I pushed it back against the wall to stabilize it. Then I had to half-squat, half-bend down at an angle to get my head under the dummy. The dummy is wider than the chair is deep, which might be hard to visualize, but you can visualize me crouched over the chair, face-down, like I’m hanging over a toilet throwing up, except on my feet in a deep, twisted squat rather than on my knees, and the top of my head pinned to the back of the toilet and a young St. Bernard sitting on my neck.

(Making things more awkward was the fact that the MMA dummy is wider and heavier on one end, so its weight isn’t evenly distributed from end to end. Like a St. Bernard.)

(The MMA dummy probably isn’t made for this purpose. Again, I AM NOT A TRAINER. I AM NOT AN EXPERT. THIS IS NOT A TUTORIAL. Do not do what I do with my bright ideas.)

Maneuverings and contortions, I’m telling you. It occurred to me to change the position of my feet and pull one end of the dummy down slightly, so it would rest diagonally across the chair’s arms. I held it in place against the back of the chair with my left hand while pulling it down past my neck with my right hand, relaxing my left hand the further I got the dummy down on the right. When I’d inched it down far enough, I carefully backed away from the chair while lowering my body even more, dropping my head, and sliding my hands under and up between my shoulders and the back of the chair and reaching higher to grab the handles behind my head and adjust my stance so my feet would stay rooted under the weight.

Using my knees, I rose up to standing position. The dummy was on my rear delts/upper back, where I wanted it to be. It took at least 10 minutes to get it there, but once it was there, it was fine. By the way, the handles all over this dummy are genius!

I started with legs:

 

Squats on the left, lunges on the right.

Squats on the left, lunges on the right.

 

Then added some back and hamstrings:

 

Upright rows on the left, deadlifts on the right.

Upright rows on the left, deadlifts on the right.

 

Mind you, this MMA dummy isn’t ideal for this kind of exercise, with its weight not evenly distributed and all. I used it for my workout, anyway. Also, the deadlifts were basically a joke because the bag is so bulky that my short self didn’t have far to go between standing and the floor. Yeah… I’ll use dumbbells for that next time.

Chest: Push-ups, using the dummy to elevate my lower body (declines) and upper body (inclines):

 

Decline push-ups on the left, incline push-ups on the right.

Decline push-ups on the left, incline push-ups on the right.

 

Outside of Body Combat, where I do push-ups on my knees to keep up with the pace, I do push-ups with straight legs and my head up, military-style… and I do them very slowly, lowering myself all the way down to touch the floor (or the bag), mindfully working my breathing into the exercise.

I was going to leave it at that, but then I decided to grab some dumbbells, after all:

 

Using the MMA dummy as a bench for dumbbell chest presses.

Using the MMA dummy as a bench for dumbbell chest presses.

 

The MMA dummy does function wonderfully as a bench.

I used 20 lb dumbbells. We’re going to Play It Again Sports to get more in different weights. We want 15 lbs (especially me, for biceps), and we want some heavier ones. The 20 lbs are the heaviest we have at the moment.

Then arms:

 

Bicep curls on the left, tricep skullcrushers on the right (not really skullcrushers if you're not lying down, but for lack of a better term...).

Bicep curls on the left, tricep skullcrushers on the right (not really skullcrushers if you’re not lying down, but for lack of a better term…).

 

Lacking 15 lb dumbbells, I used the 10 lbs for the curls, and an 8 lb dumbbell in each hand for the skullcrushers. That’s a comfortable weight for me to keep good form doing that particular exercise. If I continue this routine, it shouldn’t be long before I can move those up to 10.

I also did forearms (wrist curls, both pronated and supinated), but the move is too small to look like anything on film, so I left it out. (The move is especially small in my case, with my inflexible wrists.)

And here’s the traditional pic (3x = tradition!) of me walking back to stop the final recording at the end of the workout:

 

First garage gym workout in two weeks, DONE. Also, it's getting hot in here, and it's only February.

First garage gym workout in two weeks, DONE. Also, it’s  getting hot in here, and it’s only February.

 

Let’s just take a second to think about the fast-approaching issue of heat. It was about 88 degrees F outside when I did this workout. By the end of the workout, I was uncomfortably hot. It is too early in the year for this. I was hoping to be able to use the garage gym at least through March without feeling the heat, but alas, today is the first day of March, and my mind is already shifting to heat-strategizing mode with that garage. Measures will be taken.

The next day, yesterday, I started to feel everything. I’d done some serious weight-training for the first time in years, and my body was like, WHAT IS THIS.

My abs are sore, though I didn’t do abs. Evidently that 50 lb MMA dummy on my back forced me to engage my core as I did the squats and lunges, so that was good!

My triceps, forearms, pecs, and quads are sore. My biceps, back, hamstrings, and glutes are not sore, because I didn’t hit them hard enough. My shoulders and calves aren’t sore, either, because I didn’t work them. Next time, then!

[ETA: I caught and deleted a second “glutes.” Too much editing can do that.]

I remember how I used to love that post-workout soreness when I was lifting weights regularly. I still love it. And Body Combat felt really good last night! It loosened everything up.

French art in Haiku (Haiku 3: Cromagnon, La Tour Eiffel, Les Fleurs, Absinthe) (Sharing original poems.)

Food poisoning this week. No details necessary… just to say that yesterday, I rose from the wish-I-was-dead and went around my house taking pictures and writing haiku.

These haiku were inspired by some of the art on our walls at home. The pieces are from France, except the one that was done by Callaghan, who is French. You get the common theme.

Haiku 3: Art

(by Kristi Garboushian)

1.

Déjà vu hunting
blind, agnostic galleries –
counting hours.

Cromagnon detail (original art by Callaghan)

Cromagnon detail (original art by Callaghan)

2.

Insurmountable:
vapor of millenniums,
vaporous château.

Eiffel tower pencil sketch

Eiffel tower pencil sketch

3.

Rapidly displaced
spectra: brook waters culling
hand-painted headstones.

Watercolor flowers

Watercolor flowers

4.

Slanderous tom-tom!
Axioms, acknowledgments
feigning percussion.

Tin painting

Tin painting

Here’s to a healthier week ahead for us all!

You’ve got… the worst thing in the world.

Our weekend started out great. We went to a basketball game. We went to the fights. We went to the gym for Body Combat. We ran errands and went grocery shopping. I relaxed a little on Sunday morning, and then on Sunday afternoon, I did the usual Sunday things… the laundry, a little vacuuming, a little cooking, a lot of preparing things for the upcoming week. I did not work out in the garage because there were too many random things to be done around the house, and I didn’t want my attention diverted from them.

Finally, at the end of the day, I sat down to do some writing. It was hard to do, though, because some unpleasant, cluttering thing was crushing the part of my mind that does creative writing and other things that I like. Something conniving and surly, taunting and smirking. Something obnoxious and potentially dark, but mostly sarcastic in a bad way. Something that laughs at my pain. Something tediously annoying and annoying tedious. It smelled like a scam, a bully, a filthy nickel, a plot to rip people off, a bundle of lies and waste and ecological mayhem and environmental irreverence and an obscene plunder of mind-numbing, time-consuming nothing.

It was the mail.

I had to finally open it. ALL of it.

This is the part of BEING AN ADULT that I do with the least success, simply because I hardly ever do it at all. I avoid it. I’m terrible with it, and so is Callaghan. It gets to a point where it can’t be ignored because suddenly it’s a 500-pound, four-cornered paper beast that exploded into fragments all over the place and won’t go away until I plow into it.

I loathe opening the mail with a terrible passion. It’s a dreary and slightly depressing chore, and I know that if I just do it the day it comes in, it would be a non-issue. I’m aware that it’s a good idea to open the mail on a daily basis. Honestly, I don’t know what my problem is. What’s so hard about opening the mail rather than tossing it somewhere and forgetting about it?

Sometimes, something important in the mail gets missed because of my negligence, like the bill I found buried in one of the piles of mail I finally went through on Sunday. (Yes, one of the piles. There were four piles in different parts of the house. I know. I know.) It was a gas bill, and I’d forgotten to look for it because for months, the gas bills have reflected only a credit and a big NOTHING in the “amount due” field. Evidently the credit finally ran out and this latest bill was an actual bill that needed to get paid, and it was due yesterday… the day after I found it! I put it in the outgoing mail the day it was due. Fortunately, the payment didn’t have far to go. But what if I didn’t decide to get off my ass to open the mail on Sunday?

Here’s a good adult’s system for dealing with the mail:

1). Get the mail. Open it. Sort it and discard the junk.

Here’s my system:

1.)  Extract the bills (I know when to look for them) and toss the rest of the mail somewhere.

2a). Set the bills on the little metal rack thing that sits on my desk, because whenever I owe someone money and they send me a piece of paper to tell me about it, that’s where it goes. At the beginning of the week of “payment due by,” I pay the bill.

2b). The remnants of the bill get stapled together, marked with “PAID,” and left on my desk in the TO FILE pile. Or on top of the file box, itself. (Don’t ask why I can’t just do the extra little step of removing the lid from the file box and putting the bill summary inside its folder. I don’t know.)

2c). (If the gas bill reflects a credit for several months, I forget to look for it in the mail. This is especially easy to do because it arrives out of sync with the other bills.)

3). When the weight of the ignored mail starts to smother me, I seek out the piles and deal with them. It always feels like my legs and hands are made of deadwood and I’m dying a little.

4). After going around the house and collecting all of the mail, I redistribute it into different piles: Callaghan’s mail goes into one pile, and mine into another.

5). I put Callaghan’s pile of mail somewhere in his office/studio, thinking that he’ll notice it one day and do something with it.

6). Begin the irksome task of opening my own mail: First, identify the generic junk and put it in the RECYCLING pile. Then open all the envelopes and find that 98% of the mail… the overwhelming bulk of it… is junk with my name on it.

7). Prepare the personalized junk to be discarded: Open the envelope. Find the part with my personal information. Tear off that part and set it in the TO BE SHREDDED pile. Put the recyclable parts in the RECYCLING pile. Throw the rest into the TRASH pile. Put the items to be filed in the TO FILE pile. (The mail is still in four piles!)

8). Do the things: Gather the enormous pile of recyclable paper into my arms and haul it out to the recycling bin. Throw the trash pile into the trash. Shred everything that’s left. The shredding part adds some mileage to the tedium because I have to EMPTY THE SHREDDER when I’m done, and then that has to go in the trash.

And that’s it. I’m good for the next three months.

(I always vow to start opening the mail when it comes in, but so far, that hasn’t happened.)

Since I didn’t think I would spend Monday night writing this useless rant about the mail, I didn’t take a picture of the mail or the carcasses thereof. So here’s a picture of Callaghan:

 

Callaghan (blurry in a candid shot).

Callaghan (blurry in a candid shot).

 

See? It’s male. Har, har. Lame, I know. So is this post. So is the mail. So am I, for not opening the mail. I wanted to write Haiku for today’s post, but I wasn’t about to write Haiku about mail. You’re welcome.

Lopsided eyes and mild panic: A cautionary tale.

Life changes and I’m back to a routine of walking to work every morning. I’m loving the extra little workout every day! I also walk home three days a week. The big change in the equation is that on the other two days, I take the bus home so I can get there fast, change my clothes, and drive to Mesa for Body Combat. Why? Callaghan now works on-site full-time, and the site happens to be in BFE (very far away, in case you didn’t know the acronym). This necessitates me taking myself to the gym. Which is fine. As long as I can get there!

(The adjustment to Callaghan’s new schedule and location has been a learn-as-we-go process in many ways. Our lives are very different now. And on Monday, I did NOT make it to the gym, because I literally had no way to get there. That was the last time that was going to happen!)

On Wednesday, I got to the bus stop early and wondered what to do with the spare 15 minutes. People-watching opportunities were oddly nonexistent at University and Mill. What else is there to do while waiting? Take a selfie. Or twenty.

I don’t take selfies very often. It doesn’t occur to me because I’m always looking for interesting, stationary subjects to photograph, or I’m stalking my cats with the camera. There was nothing of interest from my vantage point at the bus stop, and my cats were selfishly sitting at home, so I thought it would be amusing to capture a rare moment of myself being bored in an unusual place.

All that happened in the end was I freaked myself out, though. A little bit. Just a little.

The selfies I took showed my eyes looking lopsided. They were mismatched. One eye looked larger and different than the other. This alarmed me because I thought I remembered reading somewhere that psychopaths often have in common a noticeable difference between their eyes. While no one’s features are perfectly symmetrical, the eyes of a mentally unstable person can be very obviously unlike each other. (I know I read this somewhere, but now I can’t find anything about it, of course.)

Thing is, I do live with mental illness in the form of clinical depression and PTSD, but I never thought I looked mentally ill. The selfies suddenly made me feel paranoid. Then I became paranoid about being paranoid, and that made me feel crazier. I wondered if my mental health situation was really what I thought it was, only. And very quickly, the whole thought process took off on a continuous, self-perpetuating loop inside my brain.

To stop the merciless cycle, I deleted all of the selfies.

I went about the rest of the evening not thinking about it. I went home, went to the gym, and went out to dinner with Callaghan, and I didn’t think about it at all.

Later that night, I went to remove my make-up and saw that my eyeliner was thicker under one eye than the other, and the two lines didn’t match in shape. All along, it was my eyeliner that didn’t match! That would do it. Eyeliner can change your face dramatically. Of course the eye with more liner would look larger, and the two eyes would look different with different liner shapes!

I looked like that before I went and sweated at the gym, so I’d gone around at work with lopsided eyes. How fun.

Either I was in too much of a hurry when I was getting ready that morning, or the eyeliner wore off unevenly during the day. The result was the same, though: I looked like a Picasso painting at work, and I almost drove myself crazy wondering if I was crazier than I actually am.

Yesterday morning, I took extra care with my eyeliner. In the afternoon, I took a selfie in my office:

 

(February 18, 2016)

(February 18, 2016)

 

I came out looking more normal, though the left eye still had slightly more liner than the right. Probably only I would notice it, now that I’m hyper-aware of the thickness and shape of my eyeliner. I may have to just set the camera down and back slowly away. It’s hard to get the two eyes to look exactly the same, and I only allow myself 15 minutes to do my make-up before going to work. It is what it is.

The lighting was surprisingly flattering, too, though. Also, it was a rare day that I put on e.l.f. primer under my foundation. I think I like it, after all.

And Callaghan loves his new job!

Sunny winter in Haiku (Haiku 2: Blue Sky) (Sharing original poems.)

It’s a new week, and other than some residual congestion, I’m flu-free. Seven days of viral craptastic downtime makes for a giddy return to work. I only went in on Tuesday last week. I went on Wednesday, too, but I was sent home almost immediately, so Wednesday doesn’t count.

(Aside: Remember when “viral” really was just a bad thing?)

Even on Sunday, I coughed so much, Callaghan said, “There’s no way you can go to work tomorrow.” But I felt much better when I woke up yesterday. The whole day felt glorious. It was warm and the sky was extra sunny, clear, and blue – even more blue than usual – so I went outside (glorious!) during my lunch hour and took some pics. I didn’t go far… just to the art museum near my building. The museum and the adjacent little theatre.

I’m sharing some of the pics with a few more haiku, because they go together. I’m feeling the haiku these days, and it feels good. It feels good to pick up poetry again!

Haiku 2: Blue Sky

(by Kristi Garboushian)

1.

To be undulant,
an unfinished votive dream
soothing chess-players.

Blue sky with theatre box office.

Blue sky with theatre box office.

2.

Elasticity:
five hundred sodden leaves around
the arctic building.

Blue sky with art museum.

Blue sky with art museum.

3.

Plumage battering
an alternative fossil –
carnage emerging.

Blue sky with fake lava.

Blue sky with fake lava.

4.

A feast of words held:
tense, shy, the gloved telegrams,
chronological.

Blue sky with art museum, 2.

Blue sky with art museum, 2.

I love how Haiku encourages pictures in 17 syllables.

Spooktastic: THE BOY (A review, of sorts. No spoilers.)

There’s a scene toward the end of horror movie Dead Silence (2007) where the protagonist removes a cloth covering a mysterious shape. “Is that a doll?” asks the detective as he studies the revealed marionette. “It’s not a doll,” says the protagonist. “It’s a boy.”

This captures the central question in The Boy,  William Brent Bell’s new horror movie. Is it a doll, or is it a boy?

(from "Dead Silence")

(from “Dead Silence”)

I love good possessed-doll horror movies. And bad ones, for that matter.

To write a horror movie review without spoilers is almost to write no review at all. The challenge leaves me, an amateur film critic, with little more to say than, “I liked this movie,” or “I didn’t care for this movie.” But I do want to say a little bit about The Boy.

After the obvious Dead Silence, the next film that comes to mind is Poltergeist (1982). Poltergeist matters because it was my first spooky horror movie, so it set a standard of comparison. (I say “spooky horror” as opposed to “psycho slasher horror,” “serial killer horror,” “sci-fi horror,” “psychological horror,” “mystery horror,” etc.)

Poltergeist made an impression on me partly because I was 14 and new to the genre, but more because it was just a great film. Looking back on it now, after 33 years and countless more horror movies, I can appreciate the restraint and effective use of fright tactics in Poltergeist. The 2015 Poltergeist remake, on the other hand, did nothing but bore me. I couldn’t help but set it against the original in my mind. I rolled my eyes when the family moved into the house and the kid almost immediately discovered a whole box filled with clown dolls. I didn’t finish the movie.

The Poltergeist remake failed me because I wasn’t spooked by a pile of clown dolls in a box. I was spooked by one clown  illuminated in the night at the convergence of built-up of tension and weather, as in the original Poltergeist. That’s pacing. And nuance. And Steven Spielberg. Probably many of us Gen-X’ers derived our fear of clowns from that movie. I know for me, it was that clown that hooked me on the shiver of dread I’ve sought in spooky horror movies ever since. I don’t know that The Boy would inspire any such lasting impression on those who see it as their first spooky horror film, but it’s a solid example of nicely done metaphysical terror. Where spooky horror is concerned, “less is more” works for me.

The Boy has this focus in common with the original Poltergeist. There’s only one “boy” in The Boy.  If a remake of The Boy is ever done and it features triplets instead of a single child, I would roll my eyes and walk away, like I did during the Poltergeist remake. The clown doll in Poltergeist was little more than a prop, but it was the most memorable prop for many of us, and the creators of the remake knew it. That’s why they figured they’d capitalize on its impact by filling a box with clowns and shoving it at us at the beginning of the movie. “You got a major rush from that one scary clown in the first Poltergeist? Here, have a whole bunch of clowns!”

Granted, that box of clowns might be terribly scary to a child who sees the movie, but as an adult who saw the original decades ago and has henceforth proceeded in life with an instilled dread of clowns, that box of clowns was ridiculous.

For a more literal comparison, you could align The Boy with other “possessed doll as main character” films such as Child’s Play or Annabelle. Unlike Chucky and Annabelle, though, Brahms (the titular character in The Boy) isn’t made to look creepy. At the opposite end of the spectrum, I think of “Amelia,” a tale in Karen Black’s Trilogy of Terror (1975). The possessed doll in “Amelia” is so over-the-top in its vicious appearance, it safely clears the level of “trying too hard” and goes straight to campy gore. It’s one of my favorites.

Brahms in The Boy is not a possessed doll-turned-slasher. Brahms is a normal-looking porcelain doll who sits calmly and does basically nothing. Brahms resembles the eight-year-old male child shown in a painting hanging above the stairs in the darkly atmospheric English country manse that provides the setting for the movie.  If the Brahms doll is animate, it’s animate by suggestion only. We do not see it move. It is quiet. It doesn’t go tearing around the house with an upraised dagger. It doesn’t go ripping out people’s tongues. It’s this element of absence that spooks me more than the obvious, albeit entertaining, antics of the possessed dolls in other movies.

thatasianlookingchick.com-TheBoy2016

The Boy features its share of horror movie tropes such as jump-scares and phones that suddenly don’t work and terrifying scenes that turn out to be nightmares, but these tropes are used judiciously and kept to a minimum so the story can evolve of its own accord. It’s a rare horror movie that doesn’t depend solely on cheap tricks to get reactions.

The Boy impressed us with its fresh take on the possessed-doll horror theme. I don’t know what else I could say without spoiling the film, so I’ll stop here. I do recommend this film if you’re a fan of the horror genre, or if you’re just curious.

Oh, and by the way… the clown in Dead Silence is, to date, my favorite of all the scary movie clowns, and that includes the one in Poltergeist. To me, it’s the scariest.

Silent Kiap: Tae Kwan Do techniques (garage gym workout)!

I was sick with weird ear pain on Friday, but I went to work (thinking I wasn’t contagious… sorry, work friends). On Saturday, I felt better and thought I was over whatever it was, so I went to the gym for Body Combat (sorry, gym friends).

**In my defense, I wasn’t coughing yet. Maybe I wasn’t contagious.**

On Sunday, the ear pain was gone, but I felt worse in other ways. I worked out in the garage, anyway, practicing some Tae Kwan Do. There was no one around for me to infect, and I kiaped silently in my head to spare my scratchy throat. Still, I started coughing that night, lost my voice for real, and went to bed with a headache, body aches, and a 100 degree fever. I did not leave the house the next day (yesterday).

Maybe Sunday’s garage gym session wasn’t the best idea.

Be that as it may, I had a good practice session out there, and I recorded it again because that proved to be a great way to spot my mistakes. Also, many of you seemed to like those first two garage gym recording-snip posts, so I thought I’d continue with it.

Here are some of the techniques I ran through on Sunday:

 

Knife-hand block (prep).

Knife-hand block (prep).

 

Not sure why my front foot lifted off the ground before I executed that block. See… if I didn’t record this practice, I wouldn’t have known I did that! I swear, this whole recording business is the next best thing to having an instructor here to correct my form. The mirror helps to an extent, but not as completely as recording my techniques from different angles.

 

Overhead double block – set.

Overhead double block – set.

 

For some reason, I didn’t clip a picture of the block, itself. Next time.

 

Axe kick.

Axe kick.

 

I have a bad habit of dropping one of my arms when executing this kick. I need to work on that.

 

Rising block.

Rising block.

 

Thrust attack with spear hand.

Thrust attack with spear hand.

 

Side kick.

Side kick.

 

Pardon my dirty foot. Also, the shadow under my arm makes it look like I didn’t shave, but I did. Haha.

 

Face block.

Face block.

 

I don’t know what this block is actually called. The move blocks the groin and then the face in one continuous motion, so it’s a down block that becomes a high block as you twist into a deep front stance. It looks something like this at the beginning:

 

Prep for double block.

Prep for double block.

 

Then it becomes this (practicing from a different angle):

 

Transitioning into the block.

Transitioning into the block.

 

Tae Kwan Do is mostly structured and precise, but there are some transitions, like this one, that can be more fluid.

Back to precision:

 

The uppercut.

The uppercut.

 

A Tae Kwan Do uppercut is not the same as a boxing or a Muay Thai uppercut!

 

Punch from back stance.

Punch from back stance.

 

Lots of back stance in this practice session, actually.

Then, as in my first Tae Kwon Do post, here’s a clip of me walking over to the camera to stop the recording:

 

Feint.

Feint.

 

La Fin.

 

Kitty updates in Haiku (Haiku 1: Cats) (Sharing original poems.)

Kitty updates today! I was feeling a pull toward something different when I sat down to write last night, so I went with it. What ended up happening was I wrote about Nounours and Nenette in haiku. It was a fun change of kitty-update pace, plus I’ve been thinking it’s kind of sad that I’ve written so few poems since getting my M.F.A. in Creative Writing with a Poetry concentration.

If you’re not into haiku or poetry in general, just scroll on down… I added a paragraph of non-haiku kitty updates under the last pic.

Haiku 1: Cats

(by Kristi Garboushian)

1.

Bedtime ritual –
the voyeur of espresso,
wicker ball, a lyre.

Nenette cleaning her feet at bedtime.

Nenette cleaning her feet at bedtime.

2.

His roaring soft self
to curl, melt the desert bright
in pastoral glow.

Nounours in the nest Daddy made.

Nounours in the nest Daddy made.

3.

A swing, a feather
like a river marring stars:
Possibility.

Nenette deciding which toy.

Nenette deciding which toy.

4.

The round vacancy –
morning routine, following
the feral other.

Nenette and Nounours enjoying a sunbeam.

Nenette and Nounours enjoying a sunbeam.

In plain speech, Nounours and Nenette have been happily snuggling down in their special nighttime beds that we put together for them: Nenette on her padded bar-stool (in the bedroom corner next to my side of the bed) that I’d swathed in t-shirts I’d worn, and Nounours in the couch nest that Callaghan made with a serape and random cushions.

Nenette still loves her toy corner in the living room more than anything! She studies her toy basket and paws at the toys she wants, lifting them out with her teeth.

On weekend mornings, I’m home to watch both kitties winter sunbathing in beams on the floor.

They’re doing well.

One film, one T.V. series, delicious indulgences, and cruelty-free make-up: January Favorites!

Let me start by throwing a huge THANK YOU out into the ether for Idris Elba’s winning a SAG Award (Best Supporting Actor, or however they call it at the SAG) for his role as Commandant in Beasts of No Nation. The win alleviates my annoyance over seeing that Elba’s well-deserved recognition wasn’t reflected on the list of Oscar nominations.

So, I’m back to doing these “monthly favorites” posts. January’s list is mostly about food and cosmetic items, the latter of which came from my stash – things I already had, but wasn’t using. The only newly purchased item here is the Burt’s Bees lip crayon color.

As usual, though, I’ll start with entertainment. Here’s the one film and the one T.V. series that held our attention in January:

 

1). Amy (documentary)

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-Amy_documentary

 

If I had to choose one word for this documentary: Devastating. It started with a scene showing footage of Amy at 14 years of age singing “Happy Birthday” to her friend, a heart-breaking scene because we knew how her story ended. Here was this happy girl in possession of a brilliant talent, and then she was neglected, used, and preyed upon by vultures masquerading as people who loved her. Well, they loved her, alright. They loved her to death.

Here’s that scene of Amy as a kid singing “Happy Birthday” to her friend:

 

 

R.I.P., Amy.

 

2). How to Get Away With Murder (T.V. series)

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-HowtoGetAwayWithMurder_2016

 

We started January binge-watching How to Get Away With Murder. Then we tried to watch the documentary series Making a Murderer, and on the heels of the former, it’s hard to watch the courtroom scenes without thinking of how Annalise would flatten her opposition in one sweeping, ire-charged oratory. “Steven Avery needs Annalise” became our Making a Murderer tag-line up until we stopped watching it. Seriously! One day with Annalise in court and Avery would walk.

Minus: Annalise is a fictional character. Plus: Viola Davis won a SAG Award for her performance as Annalise.

 

3). The Body Shop Shea Body Butter.

 

The Body Shop body butter in Shea.

The Body Shop body butter in Shea.

 

This is an old favorite that’s made a come-back as our night hand cream. I’ll always love its unique scent, and the rich body butter formula is wonderful on our dry hands.

 

4). Burt’s Bees lip crayon in Sedona Sands.

 

Burt's Bees lip crayon in Sedona Sands.

Burt’s Bees lip crayon in Sedona Sands.

 

This was the only shade of Burt’s Bees lip crayons I didn’t have, and now it’s tied as my favorite (with Redwood Forest). I’ve been wearing Sedona Sands every day, since I’m feeling the nude/pink vibe right now. It’s hard for me to find a nude shade I really love, so I’m glad to have discovered a perfect one in my favorite lip color formula.

 

5). e.l.f. Flawless Finish foundation in Sand.

 

e.l.f. Flawless Finish foundation in Sand.

e.l.f. Flawless Finish foundation in Sand.

 

(Yes, that would be a half-eaten Larabar in the pic. I’d set it down on that paper towel and then decided to place the product next to it, for some reason.) Toward the end of last year, I experimented with a couple of high-end cruelty-free foundations and ended up putting the new one by Too Faced on my 2015 Favorites list. When I found this old bottle of e.l.f. foundation, I started using it again and realized that it actually looks better on me than the Too Faced one. So I stand corrected: The e.l.f. foundation IS my favorite foundation. Six bucks at Target! Amazing.

 

6). e.l.f. High-Definition powder in Soft Luminescence.

 

e.l.f. High-Definition powder in Soft Luminescence

e.l.f. High-Definition powder in Soft Luminescence

 

(And yes, that would be Nenette poking her nose into the pic!) e.l.f. came out with this new-ish version of their High-Definition powder, so I had to try it. Also six bucks! Why not? And I love it. Their original (Sheer) High-Definition powder always seemed a bit chalky on me, and I was loving the Shimmer version for a while, but this one in Soft Luminescence is like the perfect hybrid of the two. It’s fabulous.

 

7). e.l.f. Jumbo Eyeshadow stick in Rock Out.

 

e.l.f. Jumbo Eyeshadow Stick in Rock Out

e.l.f. Jumbo Eyeshadow Stick in Rock Out

 

I still love e.l.f.’s Smudge Pot cream eyeshadow in Cruisin’ Chic, but in January I dug through my e.l.f. collection, found the eyeshadow stick in Rock Out, and have been using it ever since. It’s slightly darker than Cruisin’ Chic, and the color is more like a deep olive, kind of a shimmery, moth-like greenish-brown. It blends as easily as the Smudge Pot formulas, too.

 

8). Vegan donuts and cookies.

 

Vegan donut and cookie from Whole Foods.

Vegan donut and cookie from Whole Foods.

 

I spent January eating way too much refined sugar, once again, and I had the zits to prove it. I just didn’t have the inner wherewithal to walk past Whole Food’s bakery without raiding the pastry case. They have vegan cookies, muffins, donuts, and scones. The donuts and the chocolate chip cookies are my favorites.

 

9). Nachos.

 

Vegan nachos.

Vegan nachos.

 

Okay, so January wasn’t my healthiest month ever. For dinners, I mostly alternated between big plates of nachos and heaps of pasta. Callaghan was on a salad kick, so I didn’t even share. Granted, vegan nachos and pasta the way I make it aren’t that unhealthy, but my diet was definitely lacking in veggies in January! The nachos on the plate you see here are made of blue corn tortilla chips, vegan cheese, salsa, and avocado. What can I say.

 

10). Cheerios with peanut butter.

 

Original Cheerios with peanut butter for breakfast.

Original Cheerios with peanut butter for breakfast.

 

Those of you who hang with me on Instagram and FaceBook might remember when I posted this pic. That was the day I’d forgotten to bring bread to go with my peanut butter at work, so I ran to the little shop on campus and came back with this little container of original Cheerios. The Cheerios/peanut butter combination was a little dry, but I enjoyed it. Now I bring Cheerios to work every day. Nutritionally speaking, they really aren’t that bad! They have a little sugar and one preservative, but I’m not going to argue with whole grain oats.

 

11). Celestial Seasonings Honey Vanilla Chamomile tea.

 

Celestial Seasoning's Honey Vanilla Chamomile tea.

Celestial Seasoning’s Honey Vanilla Chamomile tea.

 

Here’s another old favorite! I love this deliciously mellow, sweet tea. We often have it as a dessert between dinner and bedtime. I think it’s the hint of licorice that makes it special.

That covers it for January. I hope the first month of the year brought simple, pleasurable little things into your lives, as well!

“Do not go gentle into that good night” (Thoughts on trolls, suicide, Robin Williams)

In any given human interaction scenario, there’s that proverbial line. Once you cross the line, you’ve entered the land of excess. You’re beyond. I think that as humans, for the sake of decency, we make efforts to not go there. We don’t want to offend.

Conversely, there’s a sub-species of human who regularly and deliberately crosses the line, a sub-species that evolved out of the masses somewhere in the mid-90’s when the World Wide Web opened for business and ushered us into a new dimension of existence. Suddenly, we could hang out in the ether. No one could see us, but we were there. And we had keyboards. They had keyboards… they of the sub-species whose raison d’être is to go there, into the beyond. Those with a propensity to offend could now do it in the most cowardly fashion: Invisibly. At some point, someone started calling them “trolls.” The name stuck, and the verb form quickly followed. Trolling is now a behavior that’s as common-place online as annoying ad pop-ups you have to “click to close” before you can read what’s on the page.

Trolls are everywhere. It’s just a fact of the internet that nothing is sacred to them. I know this, but still, I was aghast at their comments on articles about Robin Williams’ death (if I may use that event as an example). As a reader, I saw that as crossing the line of all lines. When trolls unleash their misdirected anger in the comments section of an article about someone’s death, they’re so far beyond that I can’t begin to comprehend it.

Maybe it’s naïve of me to expect nothing less from trolls who spend their days seething under the bridges of the interwebs, but really? Robin Williams committed suicide in an apparent state of confusion and despair. He was a fellow human being, an artist who devoted his career to making us laugh and using his acting gifts to enrich our collective human experience with the depth of his dramatic performances.

We now know that Robin Williams suffered with Lewy Body Dementia and a couple of other, related neurological diseases. His depression was likely a by-product of LBD, but what if he didn’t have LBT? What if he was simply, clinically depressed, as everyone assumed at the time of his suicide?

Disdain for those who commit suicide* confounds me.

Within our legal system, we have a mechanism by which murderers are shuttled away from incarceration. We informally call it the “insanity plea,” and those who use it can take up residence in a medical facility instead of in prison… because to be determined to be too mentally unfit to stand trial is to be recognized as suffering with a medical condition.

Given this, I often wonder why the murderer of one’s self doesn’t deserve that same consideration. Why do we judge the deceased who took their own lives? Why does the church refuse to bless a soul that died deliberately? The act of suicide comes from a place of inner chaos, whether from clinical depression or from neurological disorders such as those that Williams experienced. Regardless, to be in this state of despair is to be mentally unfit. If a criminal can escape prison due to being mentally unfit, why can’t a person who committed suicide also be spared? Why can’t we acknowledge the fact of mental illness and let the dead rest in peace?

 

Works of two of my favorite poets (of the many who've committed suicide).

Works of two of my favorite poets (of the many who’ve committed suicide).

 

You can’t explain such concepts to trolls. They can’t be reasoned with, but you can reason with others. You can explain how it’s offensive to speak of the deceased as being selfish, pathetic, immature, “a loser,” etc. Many of us say such things. “Suicide is cowardly and selfish. It’s the easy way out that only hurts those left behind.” In my opinion, if we’re into Political Correctness, we should deem it un-P.C. to speak unkindly of those who commit suicide.

Suicide is only tragic. 22 veterans commit suicide every day, and do we speak of them with disdain? No. For the most part, we understand that P.T.S.D. (whether from military experience or from other traumatic events) and depression go together. We reserve our disdain for civilians… but suicide is suicide. No one who commits suicide is mentally fit at the time of the act.

Trolls who emerge to spew their vitriol in the comments section of article about people who committed suicide – such as Robin Williams – are the worst, as far as I’m concerned. They’re gleeful to have this excuse to rant about politics, religion, etc. They want their hatred to be heard, and they’ll use any occasion to achieve that.

The fact is that trolls are the cowardly ones… not the victims of suicide. (This is not at all to say that those who judge suicide victims are trolls.)

People who commit suicide can no longer avoid “going gently into that good night.” Let’s honor their bravery in fighting it, rather than looking down on them for dying.

 

*****

*Please note that I don’t include extremists in my definition of suicides.