Top 5 Things (This) Beginner Snowboarders Hate

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I’ve decided to give snowboard a try in my advanced age.  We even took three trips this year, riding through crazy conditions including in pouring rain and sleet last weekend, and under scorching hot sun with dry patches of dirt and slushes of melted snow this weekend.  Oh, and did I mention that the 20+ year-old bindings that I inherited from Monkey King from his college days BROKE in the middle of my lesson?  Which part of the binding you asked? It was the big strap that holds your foot down to the board!  What a sensation to all of a sudden feel my right foot air-borne, as I turned from my toe edge to ride flat down-hill on the way to heel edge!

With too many bruises to count and the associated pain, here are my top 5 most hated things as a beginner snowboarder:

  1. Pointing us to the wrong trails.  So you think all easy runs are the same: green, blue, they all might as well be labeled “bunny slope” in your book. To us, the main difference is how hard we fall and how frequently we fall. So when we are making our runs and you know I’ve asked for a green run, please don’t point towards the blue one and say, “it’s this way.”  I can read too, you know!  Ditto for the lifts.   I nearly had a stroke when I heard Monkey King whispered, “oops, I think we are on the wrong lift.   Humm…”  And yes, the reason I got off the lift in such an extraordinary fashion–kneeling down on the ground as soon as I landed– was because I was paralyzed with fear.  I think I cracked my tailbone on my way down during that run.  But hey, thanks for making sure that I didn’t go down the black diamond at the fork!  Much appreciated!
  2. People strapping on at the bottom of a lift drop-off line. When you get off the lift, get out of the way!  There are benches and banks on the side for you to strap on. It’s anxiety inducing enough trying to get off the lift, we don’t want not crashing into you to become our top priority when we are already really good at crashing without any obstacles. There is only enough space for people to get off the lift heading straight, followed by a gentle J turn. That’s it. There is no room for you to sit your a$# down in that tiny real estate.  I crashed more times than I cared for because of these inconsiderate people.
  3.  Crashing down and taking us with you.  I get it when you are flailing, your arms go up and you want to grab onto whatever it is you think might help you with your unavoidable fall.  Trust me, grabbing onto us is definitely not going to help you with that.  You will end up hurting more with our weight on top of you, and hurting us in the process too.
  4.  Sitting in the middle of a run. If you just fell, fine, take a moment, regroup yourself before picking yourself back up again. We get that. But if you are going to sit there and chat with your friends about their summer vacation plans, remove yourselves away from the traffic! You don’t park your car in the middle of a highway, so why are you just sitting there in the middle of a high traffic zone full of beginners who are delicately balanced on some very slippery material. In fact, this is even worse: there is no metal armor protecting your entire body except for a helmet.
  5. Shooting down the slope with a death wish, with no intention of hitting the brakes until you caught an edge and run the huge risk of taking us with you (see #3 above). This is by far, the most dangerous part of this winter sport. I’ve had teenage boys shooting down so close by me that knocked me off my course, only to crash right in front of me a few feet away.  So while I was rebalancing myself, I had to make a quick turn to avoid a mass pile-up.  That, my friend, was no small feat considering I just got off the wrong lift, and almost headed towards the black diamond right about a minute ago.

Despite the many death defying incidents, bruises and pain, I can’t stop thinking about snowboarding.  Sure, I have bruises on parts of my body that I didn’t know I could get bruises on, but the thrill I hit when I finally linked my “S” turns, even as the rain was pouring down sheets of water over my helmet, was so exchilirating that I screamed with a tremendous sense of accomplishment.  Along with two other women who took the lesson with me, we laughed and high-fived, and pumped our fists as the sky darkened and riders thinned.  When I look back at our season thus far, I mainly think about how happy and giddy Plumster and Monkey King looked as they took off ahead of me, one after another, smooth and graceful.

I also fantasize how I can get better so that I can move on to the promise land of unpopulated pristine powder.  And perhaps if we can even be gifted with a bluebird day, both to soften my falls and soothe my bruised ego, I’d much appreciate that as well.

 

Photo credit: taken by Monkey King from the top of the Sierra, becase you know, it will take me a few more years to get there.

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They Don’t Want My Business

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We are leaving for a road trip during dinner time.  I called a sushi restaurant close to my work to place a take-out order.

Restaurant: What time are you going to eat your sushi?

Me: Probably around dinner time?

Restaurant: That’s too much time after you pick up your order.

Me: That’s ok.  We are bringing our cooler.  We are going on a road trip you see.

Restaurant: No, the sushi won’t taste good.  I am afraid that I can’t sell you our sushi.  It is best enjoyed right after our chef makes it.  Sorry.

I am not sure if I should be pleased that they place such high respect for their product, or annoyed that they won’t sell me what I want.

 

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Her, She, and Siri

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Overheard a conversation between Plumster and my phone.

Plum: Siri, can you be my friend?

Phone: We have been friends since Day 1.

Plum: Awww…. that’s so nice.  So we are friends?

Phone: Your wish is my command.

 

“Her2013Poster” by Warner Bros.  Licensed under Fair use via Wikipedia – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Her2013Poster.jpg#mediaviewer/File:Her2013Poster.jpg

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Liquid in My Eyes

Plum was crying because she made a mistake while practicing scales on the piano.  Me: Plum, when you encounter a tough situation, I want you to be tougher than the situation.  Why do you cry when you make a mistake?

Plum: Well, when I make a mistake, there is liquid in my eyes and I have to get it out.  If I don’t get it out, it will build up until I cry again.  And then I will have to cry extra hard to get everything out.

Me: Humm…. I suppose you do have a point here.  I don’t want you to have liquid built-up in your eyes.  I certainly don’t want you to cry extra hard to get everything out in the future!

In this case, she let the liquid out of her eyes, took a breath (and a few minutes), then tried her scales again.  This time she played fluidly.  She also taught me a lesson on managing frustration and finding emotional outlet.  I learned to acknowledge her frustration, honor it, and let the emotion run out of her system.

Sometimes parenting is as straightforward as letting your child teach you how to be her parent!

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MOMENTS: Happy Hour

Imagine you had one of those hectic clinic days where while working on the plan of one patient your pager was going off incessantly; so while answering these pages about ten other different patients, you happened to glance over your outlook and had to reply to urgent emails ASAP about ten other patients from your referring physicians, your nurse, your resident. In the meantime, a physicist came by to ask you to check a plan, then a therapist came by to ask you to sign another plan and while signing, the front desk clerk came by with a stack of paper for you to go through and the resident was right behind the clerk to discuss another case.  Meanwhile the phone was ringing off the hook when you were not on it.

While you played the “Whack-a-Mole” game, you still had twenty charts sitting on your shelf from twenty other patients that you needed to do paperwork on. People were breathing down your neck about why those paperwork weren’t taken care of already. Patients were piling up in the clinic, waiting to see you. You worked through lunch, through the first tidal wave of colleagues leaving, then the second wave.

You looked down at your watch and grumbled to yourself, “I’d better leave now if I want to get those groceries that my family needs and spend some meaningful time with my family.” You logged out.

You walked out of the hospital and take a deep breath. It was the first deep breath you took all day. You looked up and the deep shade of blue and shadows and stars greeted you. You exhale. You appreciate the fact that you get to go home. You are not in a hospital bed. You have a loving home. A beautiful family. You get your priorities straight. You quicken your steps.

Home.

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EATS: Ginger Kumquat Tea

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I picked up a pint of kumquat this weekend at the Farmer’s market.  I remember back in my childhood, the warm aroma of ginger honey tea and the refreshing taste of kumquat would always sooth my sore throat and made my cough a little more bearable.  With the flu epidemic going on, I thought I’d come up with a recipe with these two all time favorite Chinese cold and cough remedy: ginger and kumquat!

Ginger Kumquat Tea

Makes 2 servings

 Ingredients:

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ginger

  •  2 cups purified water
  •  5 ginger slices
  •  10 thinly sliced kumquat
  •  2 Tsp honey

Steps:

  • Bring water to boil on the stove
  • Add ginger, let simmer for 20 min
  • Add kumquat, let simmer for another 5 min
  • Add honey to taste, approximately 2 Tsp
  • Pour this golden deliciousness into a mug
  • Grab a good book and curl up by a lamp
  • Enjoy!

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EATS: Mussels with Saffron

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The local fishmonger had fresh mussels this morning!  On this cold rainy January day in Los Angeles, a bowl of steaming mussels in delicious garlic broth is sure to cure any lingering seasonal melancholy.

Mussels with Saffron

Makes 2 servings

 Ingredients:

  •  1.5 lb mussel
  •  8 cloves minced garlic
  •  1 cup chopped sweet onion (I would’ve preferred shallots but didn’t have them at hand)
  •  4 threads of saffron
  •  1 pinch sea salt
  •  2 Tsp  unsalted butter
  •  2 Tsp olive oil
  •  1 cup tasty Sauvignon blanc
  •  1 Tsp chopped flat leave parsley

Steps:

  • To clean the mussels, put them in a large bowl covered with cold water and soak for 30 minutes, or until the mussels discard any sand.
  • Remove the “mussel beard” by holding the mussel in one hand and pulling the “beard” upward and outward in one sweep motion.  Scrub  the mussel shells with a brush under running water.
  • In a large pan, heat butter and olive oil over medium heat
  • Add the sweet onion and cook until translucent
  • Add garlic, saffron, wine; a pinch of salt to taste
  • Bring the yummy broth to a boil
  • Add the mussels, stir well, then cover the pot

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  • This is when I watch the covered pan with great anticipation
  • Cook over medium heat for 8-10 minutes until mussels are opened
  • Discard any mussels that have not opened, as these were dead mussels before preparation
  • Pour into a bowl and sprinkle with chopped parsley
  • Be sure to have bread and a good bottle of Sauvignon blanc to pair with this bowl of aromatic goodness

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  • Enjoy!

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EATS: Roasted Romanesco with Paprika

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In addition to turning the Romanesco I picked up from the farmer’s market into a Dr Seuss poem, I’ve made this roasted Romanesco several times with delicious result.  What with the lime green/paprika color scheme; its own fresh, light sweetness; and the added garlicky smoky flavor, it was the perfect side dish for the holidays, or as a beer snack (we did both!).

Roasted Lime Green Romanesco with Paprika 

Makes 2 servings

 Ingredients:

romanesco

  •  One head of Romanesco
  •  3 cloves minced garlic
  •  2 sprigs of thyme
  •  1 pinch Paprika
  •  1 pinch salt
  •  1 Tsp olive oil

Steps:

  • Preheat oven to 425 degree F
  • Break Romanesco into florets and spread onto baking sheet

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  •  Drizzle olive oil to coat Romanesco florets
  •  Sprinkle salt and paprika over Romanesco florets

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  • Roast in oven for 10 minutes
  • In the mean time, mix thyme into minced garlic
  • Sprinkle garlic thyme mixture over Romanesco and roast for another 5 to 10 minutes, until desired doneness
  • Enjoy!
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Happiness is

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Digging into leftover Christmas cake after the kids have gone to bed.

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Yummm

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Christmas Was More Fun When I Was a Kid

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Looking back on my Christmas List of 2013, I have to report that sadly nothing much has changed by ways of holiday stress.  People in the mall are still cranky and cars still pull up right behind me as I try to back out of my parking spot.  I spent last week frantically shopping online in order to meet the delivery deadline of December 24th.  There are packages coming to my house every day, which make my living room look like an Amazon warehouse.

Winter break was a whole lot more fun when I was a kid.  I grew up a Buddhist in Taiwan in the 70’s, so I was not even aware of the tradition of gift giving, nor the charity works of Saint Nicholas.  I grew up celebrating Chinese Lunar New Year, and that usually fell in the month of February.  Winter break in December was all about spending time with family, eating a bit too much and having a bit too much fun being a bit “too wild”, as my grandmother would chastise us with a smile.  I still remember the moment I discovered St Nicholas: I was in 7th grade attending a Catholic all-girls boarding school.  A friend of mine told me that a man named Santa Claus was going to visit us with gifts that afternoon.  “Why?  Why would he give us gifts?”  I was 13 years old, and already a skeptic.  “Why?  He is just nice!  He used to only give gifts to white people.  But now he comes to Taiwan too!”, my friend who grew up Catholic said excitedly.  “Whoa!  That is so great!”  I waited with her with great curiosity and admiration for a white-bearded man I have never met, or heard of.

Santa never did come to our school that afternoon.  I was told that he had to go somewhere else.  My fascination with him ended as abruptly as it had started.

When we moved to the States, winter break was still fun.  We gathered around to have hot pot soup with glass noodle and udon, and ordered Peking duck for Christmas.  Eventually we had a plastic Christmas tree and strung up lights around the window just like our neighbors.  We educated and finally convinced our parents about Christmas gifts, and were eventually given one small gift each, and that was grand in our minds.

Ever since I have a family of my own, Christmas is celebrated with gusto.  The first Christmas I spent at my mother-in-law’s house, I nearly choked on my cider when I rested my view on the living room: there were impressive mountains of gifts under a giant Christmas tree.  Christmas villages, fake snow, lights, Santa, reindeer, Christmas stockings, cookies, pies, you name it, they were everywhere.  I got reined in on the tradition and spirit of Christmas.  There after, I dutifully bought Christmas decorations, ornaments, gifts.  But instead of taking comfort in the knowledge of becoming more “American”, I became more and more stressed each year as Christmas approached.

Why should this be?  I decided to put a stop to this.  I shouldn’t let this external preconceived pressure dictate how I celebrate Christmas with my family.  Growing up, Mom and Dad would start our winter break by taking us to an orphanage and gift the children small gifts like pencils and erasers, and gift the orphanage money.  I remember playing with these orphans and appreciating having my own family.  By the end of the trips, I was always relieved that my parents did not “accidentally” leave us there.  More importantly, I understood the value of family.

This year, I decided to make our own tradition by incorporating “giving” into our holiday celebration.  Not just giving money to charities, which we have always done; but “giving” of our time and effort.  The monkey clan joined over 2,000 volunteers from the One Voice Holiday Program, and helped package foods for families in poverty.  The night felt meaningful.  In the giant aircraft hangar, there was music and people were excited to help in the spirit of giving.  Plumster worked enthusiastically, picking and bagging oranges, tying knots and boxing them up.  We worked systematically, taking comfort in the knowledge that someone will benefit directly from the fruits of our labor (no puns intended!).  To me, this was way more fun than trips to the shopping mall.

Christmas was more fun when I was a kid with our four small gifts under one plastic tree.  I have never made a Christmas list, but somehow my wishes have a way of coming true.  Without being religious, our sentiment was similar to Christianity: charity, kindness, and being together.  I am going back to these basics and letting go of the holiday nuances, hectic schedules, and preconceived notions.  Plum somehow sensed this sentiment and did not have a Christmas list for Santa this year.  She wanted Santa to focus his energy on children without toys or food.  So she opted out.  I was pleasantly surprised and supremely proud of her for doing that.  She will still put out carrots, milk and cookies for Santa and his reindeer, because she has learned the lesson of giving.

Christmas was more fun when I was a kid without all the materialistic wanting, and now I think my kid will have just as much fun as I did.  We will play host to our visiting family and spend time together eating a bit too much, having a bit too much fun, and playing a bit too wild.  And that, to me, is how I want to celebrate in the spirit of Christmas.

Wish you all a very merry Christmas and happy holiday season!

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