Underneath my yellow skin

Category Archives: Personal Life

How martial arts have changed my life, part three

I want to talk more about martial arts because it’s such an important part of my life. Putting living beings aside, I would say it’s the most important. It has changed my life in so many ways, it’s hard to count them. I honestly don’t think I would be alive today without Taiji. That’s not hyperbole. I attribute me surviving that night to love, luck, and Taiji.

Yesterday, I was talking about working out, how thick my calves and thighls are, and a bunch of other things related to martial arts–tangentially or not. I am very muscular, and I have no issue with that. It’s another thing my mother didn’t like–that I wasn’t thin and delicate the way she was. Even when I was anorexic and thinner than she was (which she did not like, either, by the way. The only time she commented negatively when
I was anorexic was when she said very jealously that my waist was smaller than hers), I had thick thighs and calves. I have always been thick in certain places.

I do want to eat better, but that’s another post for another day. I also want to learn to cook simple things, but I highly doubt I will.

Most Americans go too hard on resolutions. The all or nothing mentality that serves no one well. That’s why so many people sign up for gyms in January and barely make it past February. It’s really hard to go from doing nothing to working out five to seven days a week, an hour a day.

I know that it doesn’t feel like much when done incrementally, but you’re (general you) much more likely to stick to a habit that you can do easily every day than one you struggle with and hate with every fiber of your being.

Side note: I’m including a video of my teacher’s teacher and his teacher doing San-Shou (push hands). Tha’s another thing I want to learn this year, but it’s harder as it’s a two-person form.

Oh, speaking of two person forms, there are two-person sword forms, too. I would also like to learn those. This is the problem. There are just too many forms, and I want to learn them all at the same time. Right now, I’m brushing up on my Cane Form and teaching myself the left side of the Fan Form. I think I”ll add learning the rest of the Karambit (not Taiji or Bagua) as well. I only have one of four rows left to go, so it should not be too difficult to teach it to myself.


Continue Reading

So much martial and very much an art, part two

In yesterday’s post, I was talking about how much martial arts mean to me. I most certainly would not be here without Taiji. I believe this to be true with 100% of my heart.

When I was in the hospital, every medical person I talked to could not believe that I had woken up from my coma. Almost everyone said that it was a miracle, and they marveled over me whenever they came tho check in on me.

I was drugged to the gills, rememmber, so I didn’t pay much attention to what they said to me. However, one thing that stuck in my brain was the survival rate of people who go into cardiac arrest. It’s 10%. Later, when I looked it up, I learned it’s not quite as dire as that. It’s 10% if no one is around. It’s 20% if it happens in a hospital (with medical personnel nearby). It’s 30% if someone applies CPR to the patient in time.

I had all that happen to me. There were cops around and I think the EMT when I had my first cardiac arrest. They applied CRP and defibbed me. I had two cardiac arrests, and they used the paddles once on me and jabbed me with an EpiPen as well. I don’t know if that was on the same cardiac arrest or on different ones, but it was a dire situation.

I know I should not be alive. I’m lucky to be alive. And yet, I’m tired.

To that end, I want to beef up my martial arts practice because it’s one of the few things that brings me joy. Or rather, not joy exactly, but peace and strength. I feel more focused and centered after my morning routine, and I am able to carry that with me throughout the day.

I do want to work on my eating habits, but I’ll get to that in a future post. This one is solely about my love for martial arts and how I want to do even more in the next year.

Before my medical crisis, I attended three classes a week. For the first several years, I only did one class a week. I added a second and then a third because I could not make myself practice at home for the life of me. I rationalized that if I went to more classes, it didn’t matter sa much if I did not practice at home.

I really wanted to do so, though. Practice at home, I mean. I knew I would benefit from it, and I could not understand why I could not make myself do it. Do you want to know how I finally did it? I told myself that I would stretch for five minutes. That’s how low a bar I set, and I still struggled to meet it.


Continue Reading

An eye to the future

I’m writing this on Christmas Day, and I’m contemplative. I don’t celebrate Christmas, but everyone else in my life does. It’s another thing where I don’t mind that I’m different from everyone else, and I’m not bothered by people wishing me a Merry Christmas. it’s taken me many decades to be truly neutral about Christmas, and I still have a reflexive instinct to wish people a Merry Christmas.

I went through a period of time where I wished people Happy Holidays, but that never felt natural to me. We all know that it’s Christmas today–and, indeed, the month leading up to this day. No one thinks about Hanukkah, let alone Kwanzaa (interesting note, Hanukkah started on December 25th this year). I had to roll my eyes when some Christians got so upset about salespeople saying ‘Happy Holidays’ instead of ‘Merry Christmas’ because ‘They’re taking the Christ out of Christmas!’.

Um.

I hate to break it to them, but if Jesus really did exist, he probably would have been on the side of the people salespeople who were working their asses off for peanuts during the holiday season and dealing with entitled assholes screaming at them because they could not find a PlayStation5 anywhere and little Timmy would be sooooo disappointed when he did not get one under the tree. The only thing that Christmas really celebrated these days was crass commercialism and capitalism.

Hm. Maybe I’m not as neutral about Christmas as I thought I was. But the idea of gathering with friends and/or families and/or other loved ones is a lovely one. Winter is fmy favorite season so I see nothing wrong with letting people know that I love them–even if it’s on an overly saccharinely sweet holiday.

See, I may be against traditions for the most part, but I believe in love. Love is what got me through dying (twice) and me fumbling back to some semblance of normal afterwards.

There is one holiday song duo that I like, one Christmas carol that I love, and two other Christmas-related (sort of) songs that are quite lovely, indeed. The first one is Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy by Bing Crosby and David Bowie. It’s just really beautiful.

The rest of them, though, can mostly get in the bin. Not because they’re necessarily bad songs, but because they have been so overplayed. Christmas music starts being played in the stores any time after Halloween (and one horrible yer, it started in early October). I hated that year, let me tell you what.

Note: I didn’t feel like finishng the post on Christmas, so I wrote the rest of it the next day.

I still hate the commercialization of Christmas (which started when I was in high school. I wrote an op-ed in 9th grade about how Christmas had become one month-long, overpriced commercial. That was over thirty years ago!) , and I get so tired of the forced cheer.

I don’t hate it the way I used to, but I don’t understand why people are so into it, either. Here’s Jennifer Hudson singing, O Holy Night. I actually sang that for church one Christmas. A solo. This is the only traditional Christmas carol that I love with all my heart. I get chills every time I hear it.


Continue Reading

More pensive thoughts this holiday

It’s Black Friday, y’all. When did this become such a thing? I’ve never been a shopping kind of person, so I don’t understand why this is such a big deal to people. Then again, I also am not someone who is heavily influenced by marketing. I am not loyal to brands. I mean, if something works, I will stick to it–until it no longer works. Or until I find something better. To me, that’s how it should be. I don’t get putting one brand over another simply because of what the label says. Back when I drank pop, I was a Coke person (Caffeiene-free Diet Coke, then Diet Coke, then Coke Zero). I drank the last until they changed the formula. That tasted gross to me so I quit drinking it. Then I quit drinking pop completely. If I do have a pop, though, it’ll be a Diet Coke. I have heard that Coke Zero is back to the old formula, but I haven’t tried it in years.

It’s interesting because I’ve been on a bit of a shopping jag lately, but only for one specific thing–Giant Hoodies. They make huge hoodies that fit most people, and I had bought a few of them in the past. The reason being that the hoodies I had been buying recently were ‘unisex’, but did not fit my massive chest. I cannot buy women’s clothing because it’s usually fitted and will have problems with the shape of my body over all. I have broad shoulders and big biceps on top. I have thick thighs and calves on bottom. I’m just thick and very muscular all over. So, yeah. Fitted women’s clothing is a no-go. Also, what’s up with the capped sleeves? I hate them so much. I hate short sleeves in general, but especially the capped sleeves.

Unisex is usually better about shoulders and arms, but that’s because they are just men’s sizes under a different name. Which means boobage is not taken into consideration. Of course. Also, the sweatshirts that I had this issue with (way too tight across the chest) was with a British company–which I think matters sizing-wise. I’m guessing sizes are smaller over there than here in general. But also, I have just huge boobs. They’re HUGE. And I hate them being squished–which is why I gave up bras.

I also gave up on getting sweatshirts from this company. I’m not naming them because it’s not the company’s fault. Although, weirdly, their t-shirts don’t have the same issue. I live in hoodies in the the winter, and I love them. They are comfy and warm, and they feel like a gentle hug. In fact, they feel better than a hug to me.

I don’t know how I heard about Giant Hoodies, but I was skeptical upfront. Why? Because ‘most people’ usually doesn’t include me. All their hoodies were one-size fits most, and they are pretty pricey. I decided to try one out, and I was delighted with it. Shadow claimed it as his own, and I quickly ordered another one. They also have blankets that are supposed to be really soft and warm. I was skeptical, but I got one one sale, and it’s amazing. Seriously. I sleep with it every night, and it’s the best blanket I’ve ever used. I recently got another for free with the purchase of two more sweatshirts, which was a really great deal.


Continue Reading

Random musings, part deux

I was talking about dating in yesterday’s post. Kind of. As with everything in my life, it’s much more complicated than just do I want to date or not? Because yes, I do, but also, no, I do not. Or rather, I do, but I’m not sure I want to go through all the pain and angst to do it.

This is how my brain works. Basic thought: I want to date/have sex.  Tandem thought: I do not want to have anything to do with Trump supporters. Tertiary thought: I hope they all suffer from whatever the next four years bring. Quaternary thought: Shit. That means people I love will probably suffer as much if not more. Then my brain is off to the races, and I’m no longer thinking about dating.

It’s because I’m probably neurodivergent. I have not had that tested and/or confirmed, but at my ripe old age of 53, I am fairly certain I have one kind of neurodivergency, if not more. It’s been a relief to realize that because it means that my brain isn’t broken the way I have always thought it was.

I could go deeper into the weeds, but I shall not. I want to get back to dating.

When I was in my mid-to-late twenties, I used to do the personals for dating. At the time, the biggest ones pused were Plenty of Fish and Craigslist. Both of which were like dating in the Wild West. No quality control, no options other than what was on the front page, and just a bunch of ugh. It was discouraging because as soon as I said I was Asian, that was all the responders focused on. This was in the category of W4M, which was what I was looking for at the time. Well, I also had an ad in the W4W, but I did not get any answers for that ad.  I don’t want to get into why I think that is.

I cannot tell you how many guys told me how much they loooooved Asian woman and sent me dick pics, even though I was very explicit about not wanting either. Worse, at that time, most of them said they loved ‘Oriental girls’, which was a sure way of making sure you would never get a piece of this ass.

That was a quarter of a century ago. I am even more strident about what I want and don’t want now. No straight men, especially white men. Does that cut out a huge portion of potential dates? Yup. Do I care? Nope.


Continue Reading

Random musings for the hell of it

Checking in with my feelings.

*Several seconds of internal checking*

Yep, still furious. And with the news as to who Trump is going to appoint when he’s president, scared as fuck. Again, not necessarily for myself as I have options, but for all the people who will be hurt by the upcoming administration.

I don’t want to talk about that, thoughh, because I don’t need that agitas in my heart right now. I want to talk about something related, though, and that’s what I plan to do if I start to date again. It’s tangentially related because there is a bit of politics in it, but it’s more about what I want for my future. If there is a future.

My brother was just here, and we talked at length about what the fuck is wrong with America right now. Or rather, in general. I don’t want to get into it, but we’re pretty much on the same page.

Back to the point at hand. I don’t know if I want to keep living in this country. I know that’s a very privileged point of view, but it’s painful to live in a country that hates me. I mean, I’ve been doing it my whole life, but this election made it painfully clear how hated I am. Not me in particluar, maybe, but people of my ilk.

The sad thing is that if you talked to many of the people who voted for Trump, I’m sure they’d say that they voted for him despite his repugnant stances (suuuuuuuure) and that they voted for him because of his business acumen (what??). The thing is, though, that the fact that they could brush off the repugnant viewpoints says a lot about them. They don’t think they’ll be affected by his hate, but they will. Trump doesn’t care about any of them. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. Hell, I would say he doesn’t actually care about himself, either.

Anyway. I am not here to talk about that directly. I’m here to talk about dating/sexing. I am not sure I want to do the former, but I’m pretty sure I want to do the latter. As I’ve said in recent posts, though, I do not want to hook up with cishet dudes, specifically cishet white dudes. They are the reason we are in this mess, and I have no desire to weed out the good ones from the get-the-fuck-away-from me ones. I just don’t.


Continue Reading

Self-soothing the pain away

It’s been four days. Four exhaustive days. Here is my post from yesterday on the situation. I am still reeling, and I am not the only one. I am phasing in and out of the outraged/sickened state on the regular. In my private lesson yesterday, we did Push Hands (which I mentioned in yesterday’s post). I mentioned wanting to learn it to my teacher months ago, but it seems more urgent now. She has been teaching it in her classes (the ones I don’t attend), and I’m down to do more.

It’s interesting because when we talked about doing it, I was not sure I would be down with it. I remember how much I hated it the first time around. Though, I will say, there was one time when…ok. There is long power and short power. To drastically simplify it, long power is using your back leg to push off on and short power is using your front leg. There is more to it than that, but that’s the ten-second primer on it. Short power is really hard to do properly. Most people (including me) will ‘pop’ the leg rather than do it smoothly. Just because it short, it does not mean it needs to pop. Popping up diffuses the power rather than just keeping it smooth.

Short power is way harder to do correctly–at least for me. As I said, it was too easy to ‘pop’ rather than do it smoothly, which defeated the purpose. I did my best, but I was so tense the entire time. It’s really weird to bet that close to someone. You’re both in a bow stance with your front toes overlapping (not actually touching, but just all up in each other’s grills), and you have to put your hand all over the other person’s body. Most of us are not doing that on the regular basis with people who are not dear loved ones. At least in Ameriac. That is not a comfortable distance nor something we do to strangers (touch them).

When you are in the proper position, the giver places their hand on the other person’s body. Usually, it starts with the shoulder for Willow One. If I remember correctly, it’s called willow because we’re supposed to move like willow trees. With the most basic Willow, you simply push nine areas of the other person’s body. Shoulders (front and back), chest bone (between the breasts), stomach, back, hips (front and back). You want to push the other person to the point of giving them a gentle stretch. You are not trying to push them out of their stance or hurt them. This is for stretching and flexibility.


Continue Reading

More positive self-soothing behaviors

These are dark days in America. Dark days indeed. I vented some of my rage yesterday, but I have so much more bottled up inside. It’s not like I haven’t known since I was in my early twenties (so, thirty years) that my country did not want me. Not only does it not want me–it is actively trying to destroy me and others like me.

I know that I am ‘lucky’ to be living in a very progressive suburb with two blue cities nearby. I know that I am lucky (without the quotes) to not have to worry about making ends meet in a country that hates me. I know that I am ‘lucky’ that I can hide several of the parts of my personality that the right would target me for (gender as agender, which probably isn’t as egregious to them as trans or nonbinary, but probably just as befuddling and enraging. I clearly have lady bits! Big, honking lady bits! Really, you could not miss my tits if you tried. In fact, one of the reasons I got a tattoo on my left breast was the mentality of, “Right. If you are going to look at my tits, then I’ll give you something to look at.”

At first it was a small yin-yang in a sun. That was my first tattoo, and it was horrible. It was done by the nephew apprentice of the first tattooist in Minneapolis, close to midnight, and what he didn’t know (and I didn’t know) was that I got keloids (funnily, I’ve been saying I’m keloid for decades, but it’s the way a scar forms, not the person) whenever I had an injury on my body. In other words, I scarred twice as badly as other people. So when I got this tattoo, it scarred really badly. And it was just an ugly tattoo in general, I was deeply unhappy about it, and I knew I had to get it covered up.

It took me years to do it, but when I finally did, it was a thing of beauty. It was a lotus blossom with blue and purple petals, engulfed in flames. It took several hours, and it still looks great. If you look closely, you can see where the yin-yang is, but you have to know it’s there.

I’m thinking of getting another tattoo. It’s been decades since I’ve gotten a new one. I was planning on getting one a year-ish after getting out of the hospital. It was going to be the Firelink Shrine bonfire from Dark Souls III with my character resting at it. You see, that was my safe place in that game. That was where I went at the end of every session beacuse it was so comforting. Plus, of course, it has fire in it (which all my tattoos have–an element of fire, I mean).

That year turned into two. Then about six months later, my personal tragedy happened, and my soul shattered. I think I can say it now–no, wait. I can’t. I’m still not ready to talk about it.


Continue Reading

NaNoWhatMo? WTF am I writing?

I want to talk more about NaNoWriMo which starts in two days. Here is my post from yesterday about it. I want to get back into writing. I miss it a great deal. I mean, yes, I write a post a day, but before my medical crisis, I wrote a post a day plus 2,000 words of fiction. Every day. I would love to do that again. As I’ve mentioned, I did continue to write after my medical crisis, but it was shit. Now, I am hard on my writing no matter what. That’s not unusual for writers. We are (usually) our own worst enemies. In this case, however, the negativity I have towards my writing is valid. Of course I would say that, though. Nobody has a great assessment of their own anything, really. But to me, my writing as of late has been shit. Maybe I needed to push through it to get to the good stuff (which is often the case), but last year or the year before, I tried to write the second book (though I didn’t realize it would be the second book at the time) of my mystery trilogy. I wrote over 50,000 words, and the words never started to shimmer.

I mentioned this before as well that I don’t consider myself anything but a conduit for the words to flow through. I don’t feel like I was the creator of any of my novels, which may actually be the problem now. The words are not flowing through me. Before my medical crisis, I could sit down and write effortlessly for hours. After my medical crisis, I had a much harder time doing that. Yes, I could still write the 2,000 words a day, but it wasn’t nearly as effortless as before.

My goal this NaNoWriMo is…well, I’m not sure. Writing the 2,000 words a day, obviously. That’s my own personal goal because it’s what I used to do. It’s also to see if I can actually finish a novel as I did before. Or my memoir. Speaking of the latter, if I write it, it’s not going to be a straightforward memoir. As I’ve said a few times, my life is not interesting enough for a memoir. Except for the one situation that is unique and has never happened to anyone else.

The problem is, will anyone believe it? I almost can’t believe it myself. Yes, I’ll reference my brother’s CaringBridge journal in which he details what happened to me–but, wait. I’m not sure he mentions that I had two cardiac arrests and a stroke as that happened before he came into the picture. (And the non-Covid-related walking pneumonia which kicked it all off.) He told me about it when I woke up, but no one needs to believe that.


Continue Reading

Big brainstorming dump

NaNoWriMo is fast approaching–where the hell has 2024 gone? Seriously. I know that this is a trope, but it’s also true. Every year does, indeed, go faster than the year before. Yes, I know this is not possible, but I am also not possible. So there! Oh, and here is the post from yesterday.

I know why it is, of course. It’s beacuse when you’re a kid, a year is a huge chunk of your life. When you’re five, it’s one-fifth of your years on this earth! I remembering waiting or Christmas (when I actually believed in Santa–which was up to eight or nine) and it took F-O-R-E-V-E-R. Now, a year is but a sharp inhale or maybe the following exhale.

I’m fifty…ah…three? Yes. Fifty-three. I’m never quite sure because I always add a year to my age at some point before I turn the next age. No idea why, really. In Taiwanese culture, you’re one at birth, so maybe that has something to do with it? It doesn’t help that I consider September 3rd to be my re-birthday. (In that case, I’m three.)

Anyway. This year has just flown by. I think in part because I have been grieving since February. Grieving is strange. It makes time both expand and contract. Sometimes at the same time. It seems like just yesterday that the tragedy happened. At the same time, it seems like forever ago. I have not been able to write (except here) since then–which I’m sure is part of the issue.

It’s nearly November. It’s because I’m thinking about NaNoWriMo that I’ve been musing about time in general. And because it’s been three years of bonus days of which I’m feeling I’m not taking proper advantage. Ugh. That was a terrible sentence. Let me phrase it better. I died (twice) on September 3rd, 2021. I was not supposed to come back, but come back, I did. Twice! Only to fall back into unconsciousness again. I was in a coma for a week, and my medical team told my brother to start thinknig about pulling the plug. Strongly advised.

And then I woke up. And while I was drugged out of my mind, I was able to do everything reasonably well. And was back home in a little over a week. No rehab. No physical therapy. Still drugged the fuck up, but functional. I could not read for the first few days I got home (blurred vision), but that went away fairly quickly.

Well I went far afield there, didn’t I? Let’s get back to brainstorming what I want to do for NaNoWriMo this year.


Continue Reading