Amanda Takes Off...

We have a new Sabumnim at the studio. Master told me last night that I'd meet her today and I thought he said that she wouldn't be teaching our class normally.

Then, when she was trying very hard not to cry, Crybaby Gold Medal Girl said she's going to teach our class every Tuesday and Thursday. To be honest, I was trying hard not to cry, either. This woman was making me really upset. (And my hand really hurt from practicing strikes, which sucked, because I could barely even break two when yesterday I was breaking three.)

Though I call her Crybaby, she doesn't actually cry all that often, though she whines. Poor girl, she was so frustrated. We curled into each other and whispered back and forth. She said, "I hate this. I hate tonight. I want to go home. Shileoyo!" I don't like it! Tears were welling in her eyes.

"Sabumnim?" I said. She nodded.

I said in Korean, "Nado shileoyo!" I don't like her, either. "Her voice is too loud. She speaks too fast. So I can't understand her. And she never smiles. Master is nice. I like Master."

Crybaby grinned and we whined back and forth in whispers.

Crybaby felt a bit better after finding out I didn't like her, but I could see the frustration on the rest of my studiomates' faces. I wanted to hug Ghost, he was so upset, and I wanted Goalie or Blue to go sit on her to get her to shut up.

She was accusing us of not answering formally enough, not bowing deeply enough, not junbi-ing fast enough, not doing front blocks correctly.

Now. Stop. Think.

If you've never in your entire life been to a studio and everyone in the studio does something the exact same way, with the exact same tempo, tone, and method, shouldn't you think "maybe I'm the problem?"

She kept trying to help Master when he was talking to me by speaking English and I just wanted to scream at her. She's never even seen us communicate, so she doesn't know that we make it work. Also, it's really hard to listen and focus in Korean (or the special blended language that Master and I have going on) while someone is speaking English. Furthermore, I use the studio at my pure Korean practice. Leave it be! Finally, I know from being at TempStudio that speaking English can be very isolating and that's the last thing I want. I've made it nine months and through a black belt test without having a translator, I sure as hell don't need one now.

I don't care if she's a higher rank and she goes (or went, not sure) to Master's university and I'm supposed to respect her. She doesn't know how things work in our studio. She is an interloper. She is hurting "my boys'" feelings. I know I sound like a jealous lover, but she needs to go away.

Now.

And no way in this world am I changing my front blocks for her. Been there, done that for Master and will only do it again for him.

I am pretty sure Master could sense what I felt, too, because he was trying to talk to me and she was interrupting us with random English words while we were talking and I was straining my neck to not look at her. I was truly afraid that if I looked at her, I would scream "Shileoyo!"

At the end of class, Master asked if we had any questions for him. Any questions for Sabumnim? I wanted to say, "When are you/did you graduate, how old are you, and when are you going to open up your own studio and leave us all alone?"

I am going to be very upset if she's teaching our class two nights a week. I'm giving her one month to shape up, and if she doesn't, I don't know what I'll do.

Now. In somewhat related (this will go back to taekwondo) news, my brother's wife will be induced on the 18th if she doesn't have my soon-to-be-first-nephew-ever before then.

I haven't seen my brother or his wife since December 2005. Seventeen months. I'm going to be the non-existent aunt. Who sends hanboks and ddeok (rice cakes). Just like Caro, I'm not there.

I feel another huge bout of homesickness coming on and I almost know for a fact I'm going to be an emotional mess Thursday because of the nephew and if this woman pushes my buttons the wrong way, I swear to God, I'm going to lose it. Master better be around because he knows how to handle me.

On the ride home, I was untangled my yarn, knitting away and getting stared at, mostly by older business men who were entranced by what I was doing, though some ajummas were staring at me, too. I got quite a bit of knitting done.

I was also grooving away to my iPod. Last week I asked Master if I could borrow some Korean CDs because the music he listens to in his car is much better than the K-pop junk I listen to (Bi, BoA, MC Mong). Last night he made a CD of 28 mp3s for me to listen to. He put mostly ballads on there.

I was so loving all of these songs. They sing slowly and with feeling so I can actually understand much of what I hear (it's all about the love) and what I can't understand I can at least make out to look up or ask someone about if I so desire.

Wonderful.

But speaking of love... then some guy on the subway hit on me. He interrupted my knitting and Korean-ballad iPoding to do it. Much as I would happily date a Korean, this man had tomato sauce on his chin.

Someone.

Save.

Me.

Now.

Shileoyo!