id anyone notice that I’m using roman numerals for these consecutive posts? Kinda gives it a Super Bowl effect, don’t you think? Hahahahahha. Anyway, I guess some readers don’t visit everyday, but the questions that I’m fielding are from the original entry from last Friday. I’m trying to answer the questions in order of receipt. If your question was answered out of order, then consider your self special. Hehehehhehee. Just kidding. You’re all special. Seriously. You’re on the air with the O-man.
What Goes Around Comes Around
Detachable: We’ve all made mistakes in the past or choices we wished we made but didn’t ’cause we were not as impulsive or we were just being responsible or we were just chicken.
O-man: Hey girl, we’ve all decided–for whatever reason–not to pursue certain avenues… This sounds like another hard question… *gulp*
Detachable: If you were given the opportunity to go back and change 3 things or make 3 choices in the past, either to change something or to experience something which you wish you had done, what would it be and why.
O-man: *sigh* Okay, this is really hard. There are a lot of things that I did that were not the smartest thing, to be sure. But if I changed them, I wouldn’t be the person I am today, and that would be a tragedy, because I would never have gotten to meet you, Detachable! But let me try anyway… Three things? Hmm… Let’s see.
Up until I met M, I had always wished I hadn’t broken up with one of my early girlfriends, BA. She was cute, smart and had a great singing voice. In fact, she was the singer of the band I was in. I was stupid, arrogant and stubborn. When we got into an arguement, I would never give in, even when I was wrong. I remember once after a particualrly big fight, she walked into the bank where I worked part-time and she brought my favorite home made cookies–peanut butter–with a note of apology. I felt like such a heel, but did I ever admit it to her? No. Ultimately, I broke up with her because I thought that she didn’t exude one quality that I thought was important in any girl I was going to be with: Japanese-ness, whatever that means. She was JA like me, but she didn’t practice many of the things that I associated with being Japanese, such as speaking the language or… um, there isn’t much else I can remember, which is probably an indication of how trivial and petty my standards were. After a year and three girlfriends later, I began to realize what a catch I had, but by then it was too late. She had figured out that there were plenty of guys far better than me out there. For years, I regretted having left her. Even with my first marriage, I would occasionally wonder what could have been–yes, I am a cad. But finally I met M, and I am positive that she is my soulmate. We have our arguements, but I know that we were meant for each other. All of this means that had I not broken up with BA, I would never have met her, so I don’t wish I could redo this part of my history.
One thing that I often fantasize about it being a cook. I don’t regret being a teacher, but I wonder what life would be like had I chosen to be a cook. I enjoy cooking and I really enjoy cooking for others. I am no Wolfgang Puck (who’d want to be) or an Emeril (ditto), but I can cook certain foods rather decently. My Chinese-styled stir fry dishes usually pretty good: broccoli beef, mabodofu, Chinese chicken bowls, etc. Unagi-kun (my stepson) will eat every last drop, a pretty good sign that its edible. I cook basic American foods as well, including meat loaf, pot roasts and macaroni and cheese. I usually make tomato sauce from scratch for my pastas: lots of garlic, canned tomatoes, red wine, onions, mushroom, olives, and various seasonings. But there are some foods I don’t do. I never cook Japanese because it is just too much trouble. They come up with the most elaborate and bothersome recipes. You have to be attentive to your food every step of the way. I also don’t do deep fry. If I invested in a thermometer, I’d be able to cook well enough I suppose, but as many of you know, it is a pain to clean up. Oil splatters all over. Ugh! No thanks.
If I were to have a restaurant, I would try some of the fusion stuff I’ve learned over the years. I make croquette casserole because it uses virtually no oil so it is pretty healthy, and easy to clean up. And everyone loves my tofu pomadoro–my own name which I think means tomato tofu. Mmmmm. Cut tofu into rectangles (about half the size of a deck of cards) and cook them in a frying pan at medium heat until brown on both sides. While cooking tofu, 1) cut 4 roma tomatoes into chunks, 2) slice three button mushrooms, 3) mince 2-4 cloves of garlic, 4) sliver lengthwise (with the grain) one-half of a medium onion, 5) sliver 5-6 fresh basil leaves. In two tablespoons of olive oil in hot pan, throw in garlic and onions. When onions look “wet” (that means the onions have heated enough to begin to emit its moisture, about a minute or two), add the mushrooms, stir twice then add the tomatoes. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Cook until the tomatoes are heated through and slightly melted (about 6-8 minutes). Pour over tofu and sprinkle basil on top. Option 2 which is not bad either: If you use dry basil instead of fresh, add the basil when cooking onions, then at the end garnish with green onions. If anyone tries this, let me know what you think… even if you don’t like it. 😦
Oh wait, there is one thing that I might have done differently: treat one of my friends with more respect. Of course, this has to do with another girl and a former friend. I bet you can sorta guess what happened. When I was 17, I had a friend to hang with, jam a bit, and talk about music and sports. One day he told me he had the hots for this girl named D. She was one of the most popular girls in her high school, and all he could do was talk about her everytime we met. D this and D that. One day, he introduced me to her. She was okay, I suppose, relatively tall–5′ 4″–and smart, but obviously stuck up. Well, about a few days after meeting her, she started calling me and hinting that we should go see a movie or something. Well, as I said, she was okay, but I think the thought of going out with a “popular” girl blinded me from what really mattered: friendship, loyalty, honesty. I started going out with her, and when my friend eventually found out, he was really pissed. Controlled, fortunately, but pissed nonetheless. And D and me? We barely lasted two months. What a stupid thing to do. Needless to say, my friend distanced himself from me and we have said maybe three words to each other since. This is truly one incident that I wish I had the chance to do over.
As epilogue, I should tell you that the callousness and insensitivity I showed to BA and my friend has subsequently been shown to me. What goes around comes around, as they say. At UCLA I have been told that I do not meet certain standards that by some girls I dated, and one girl I really liked started dating one of my best friends. The pain and embarrassment I felt made me realize all the more how poorly I had treated me friend back then. So all of you inhabitants of the planet Xanga, please remember that I have been–and probably still can be–a jerk. I am most definitely no better that anyone.
Damn, why am I talking about this shit? You guys will end up knowing me better than my wife…