& that's the way life goes

Another note about my dad…

Last Thursday…

At tae kwon do…

He kicked me…

…IN THE HEAD…

Not ONCE…

…But 3 TIMES…

(For those of you who don’t know, my dad is my Master Instructer and “is getting me ready for the next tournament” or so he says HAHA)

How could you say no?

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In other news my dad’s birthday dinner was expensive but delicious and entertaining.  Though we forgot to make reservations and had to wait 45 minutes before we were seated.  If you’ve never been to Benihana’s and there is one near you, go.  Yes it’s a little cheesy that they do tricks while they cook in front of you but it’s entertaining and the food is served to you as it’s cooked so there is time to relax in between so you don’t stuff yourself.  (well I still managed to overeat)  What was really interesting is that I actually talked to my dad about his birthday.

If you read this post, I mentioned that my mom used to joke that he didn’t even know his real birthday.  Apparently it might very well be possible.  On my dad’s US paperwork (he was born in the Phillippines in a house so there was no actual birth certificate), his birthdate is listed as September 28, 1950.  As a child he remembers celebrating on September 6th.  So ok not too big of a deal, only 22 days difference.  But what if the year is wrong?!  My dad’s sisters left the Phillippines to go live in Guam when my dad was younger than 10.  For some reason he says he didn’t want to go with them so he stayed behind.  A year or two later he changed his mind so his sisters petitioned for him to travel alone.  He believes they changed his birthdate for him to do so.  He thinks he may actually be a couple years younger.

Can you imagine not knowing your real birthdate?  To just accept that you may be younger than the paperwork and everyone actually says you are?  To me it’s craziness.  I don’t know if I could live with the unknown.  I want to find out for him.  I asked him if there was any way for him to research it.  He says no, and I guess after 50 years or so of not knowing you just kind of accept the fact.

Thoughts?

It’s no secret it hasn’t been a happy month.  Ugh 4 months if you really want to get into it.  And my stack of patience isn’t really big to begin with.  I think I’ve used my last one, grinding my teeth and biting back a slew of angry words.  Here are a couple gems where I just sucked it up and swallowed a bitchy response:

“I had a bad day, I don’t give a shit about what you’re telling me about your work”

“Thanks to you I left my atm card in the machine while I was talking to you”

Yeah…I hope I wasn’t like this after my mom died.  And if I was, I’m sorry.

In the words of Carrie Underwood, “The more boys I meet, the more I love my dog.”

I dream in color…I dream vividly…I dream like I’m watching tv only I’m living it.

Weird much?

Sometimes this vividness is quite awesome.  Other times not so much.  Sometimes I dream of people I know (which can be weird).  Sometimes I dream of celebrities and athletes.

Last night I dreamt of Roger Federer, you know my tennis boyfriend.  I had a job working PR and was working the US Open in New York.  My friend and I were both there running around doing our jobs and I got to meet Federer.  I was very excited and we totally made out (haha) but then I felt bad because he has a girlfriend and they’ve been together a long time and she used to play tennis professionally.  Yes all these details were in my dream.  He gave me tickets to sit in the lower bowl (is that what you’d call it?) of Ashe Stadium.

I wonder where these ideas surface.  What kind of dreams do you have?