jaytan

Blue Belt, bitches!



It took a few months longer than I hoped it would, but I got it. Now this is still a far cry from a black belt, but the significance here is that this was the dreaded "first test at headquarters." See, you test for the first few belts in your own dojo, but for the higher-up belts, you test at headquarters, with students from numerous other schools, and those administering the tests are uberranked "red gi" (translation: unfuckwitable) black belt masters.

Yes, granted, most martial arts schools, especially one that franchises itself out around the nation, are also businesses that have a vested interest in rewarding their students (customers) for their hard work and loyalty (continued business), but this test was FIVE HOURS LONG!!! Yeah, a bit of sweat was perspired in this endeavor. And granted, there are plenty of lesser skilled people in worse physical condition than I, and hence I had a good feeling that I'd get my belt, but I did have to earn it, and I do feel like I presented a good showing of myself. So I celebrate, and I also walk away inspired to push myself further. Practice harder, get in better shape, apply myself more, and chase after "it" (whatever that may be) faster.

Eugene's memorial service was Friday, and I think everybody I knew there was surprised to see a larger attendance than anybody expected. Lots of former colleagues, friends, and associates came out of the woodwork. I honestly thought that only a small spattering of people from the cafe would show, which would have been sad. Strange a reference as it may seem, I'm reminded of the scene in the new DAWN OF THE DEAD where the fat woman dies and everybody in the room realizes they never knew her name. One character comments "died without a name? What a sad way to go."

Thanfully, this was not how Eugene went, and clearly, he won't really permanently be gone. Not until we all die, and even then, only if we forget to tell others about him.

For the record, his full name was Eugene Patrick Vier, the youngest of 3 brothers and 2 sisters. Little is known about the other siblings, other than that his surviving niece is half-white, half-Filopino (she was in attendance). They apparently butted heads often, but in that they were the only blood family each had, they also spent a large amount of time together. He was fiercely loyal to his friends, and had a great love of philosophy and studying history. Apparently he had a penchant for tying back most conversations to Hitler and the Nazis, blaming them for all the evils in the world today (not that that's a bad attribution, but admittedly, rather random). Today, he sits in an urn in the Hollywood Forever mausoleum, and his spirit lives at the Night in Tunisia cafe in Koreatown, Los Angeles.

Eugene Patrick Vier 5/23/1924 - 10/10/05

In other news, it looks like the girl and I are going to be taking a break. I realize that this is one of those made-up, conditional terms thats meant to lessen the blow of saying two people have broken up, but in that we will be revisiting the idea, later down the road, of getting back together, it serves its purpose. We'll surely also hang out often, but for the time being, its important for the both of us that we're not exclusive to each other.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted to go out and try and "get some," and I do plan on shifting my mentals to think more "single," but I don't necessarily expect that this will happen as neatly and easily as I would want it to. Having an ex-girlfriend in the same town is new territory for me, as all my relationships have ended due to us simply moving on with our lives in other cities.

Meanwhile, the doctor is prescribing heavy doses of working out, SG girls (especially Wendy and Alexsandria -- wuddup girls!), and new music from Atmosphere, Blackalicious, and DangerDoom.

And . . . scene.