C & K: Get Mortified Tuesday (Nth entry in a row re: LDC)

Apologies for anybody that's been waiting for me to get mortified today. For the wait, you get a double dose of mortification!

As is the ritual for Get Mortified Tuesday, here is the first dose ~ a la random-selection:

May 17, 1995

We went 2 C Mommy on Sunday after morning service. I spent $50 for food for the BBQ. [Captain Cousin] brought his friend's dog Chloe and his dog Sophie. Sophie was cuter. We also had class elections today. I think JW was (gulp) hitting on me/flirting. I mean, it was more than flirting but less than hitting. Whatta scary, scary thought. I mean we went to Mike's house after school and that's where it began. Then they came over to the condo. All the time, he kept on playing around with me: tripping me and bending my knee. Then he asked 4 my prom pix. Yech. I mean, it was like, I just met you, sorta, today and you want my pix? I don't think so. Amelia gave me 2 computer printout pix of Leonardo from scenes of The Basketball Diaries. Sigh. He's so cute. I'll bet there'll be more to come with JW. Yech. People say the B.B. Diaries is a really good movie. I reeeally wanna watch it, now. Would somebody please bring me? Ugh. My grades are really moving up and down. Ooh. I wonder how many times I've written in a row mentioning Leonardo. He's so fine. I can't believe I'm saying that. Well, he is. JC's still in the back of my mind. GT's still in my heart, but I have so little reminders of him that I rarely think of him. If he or JC were ever to ask me to a dance, I'd answer in a flash, if I were allowed to, [Gramma]. I've been skipping lunches and eating skimpy lunches at school, but not on purpose. I know it's really bad. JW seems to be looking better these days -- it's his hair. Me and my hair fetish.

Dude, this entry cracks me up. In particular:

• Leonardo DiCaprio, (grainy) computer print-out pixs, and B.B. Diaries? The funny thing is that after BF and I got together, he told me to watch the B.B. Diaries b/c swears it's a "good" movie (for those who like junkies). (Secretly, I think he likes the imaginary contact high...)
  
• That "friend" of Captain Cousin was actually his GF at the time...now his wonderful wife. Poor Sophie, R.I.P. Chloe's still a cutie. (Both were/are dachshunds.)
  
• I didn't know there was a difference b/t "hitting on" and "flirting." Apparently, I knew that difference as a teenager, though. Hm. Come to think of it, flirting is somewhat less serious than hitting on. Right?
  
• Ah, the first sign of teenage angst; I wasn't allowed to go to dances.
• "Me and my hair fetish." No comment.
• "I wonder how many times I've written in a row mentioning Leonardo." Again, no comment.
  
• OMG, I don't ever remember skipping lunches back in HS. If only I could do that now.

Awesome. Okay, 2nd dosage of mortification.

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Today was my last session of clinic with my ESL client-turned-friend. Rewind 4 weeks: my BF has asked me for 3-4 weeks to ask my client what a certain Vietnamese word means. I'll call it the D-word. The first time he asked, our convo went like this~

X: Can you ask your client what the D-word means?

C: Why? Is it a bad word?

X: No, I swear it's not a bad word. I hear Vietnamese people say it a lot. I think it's a common word.

C: How do you know it's not a bad word?

X: Trust me, it's not. I promise. It's a common word.

C: Are you sure?

X: Yes. I promise.

Then for the past 4 weeks~

X: have you asked her what D-word means?

C: Oh man! I keep forgetting! Don't worry, I'll write it down.

Of course I kept forgetting even though I tagged it all over my clinic notes (I wonder if Ms. L saw it). I actually remembered yesterday, but I chickened out asking b/c I knew my supervisor was observing. Whereas today, for a make-up session, I knew she wouldn't be watching.

• C: Ms. L, can I ask you what something means? My BF's been asking me to ask you for the past 4 weeks and I keep forgetting. I have no idea what it means, but he promises it's not a bad word, but I don't know. But he says it's not a bad word. [Pause] Okay, the word is D-word.
• Ms. L: (shocked expression) Don't say that. That is a terrible, terrible word!

Oh, D-word! (The English translation was pretty much what ran through my mind.)

I was soOOoOOoOOOOOoOO mortified and kept apologizing profusely. Basically, I gathered that it's equivalent to the F-bomb, but in the Vietnamese culture, I guess it's even more insulting. She explained that only certain classes or types of people say that word but higher class people don't say it. Subsequently, we carried on a fascinating conversation about people swearing and how we both don't know swear words in other languages b/c we don't care to know.

So after apologizing again for the millionth time, I decided it's time to move onto our lesson. In preparation, I skimmed over a reading passage regarding the Vietnam Memorial. I didn't really read it but I prepared lame questions (e.g., where is the Memorial located?).

As I began reading it aloud, I had an overwhelmingly bad feeling that this was a terrible topic. When I finished, she was sitting there completely silent. Instead of asking the lame questions, I nervously asked her, "Um, do you think this is an accurate portrayal of the Vietnam War?" The passage described 53,000 Americans dying during this fight against communism and how this war was extremely controversial.

Ms. L said, "Oh, that war. [Shakes her head.] This is a terrible topic. I don't want to talk about this."

I could have died right then.

However, she continued talking about the war and people's attitudes. Then our conversation went onto several interesting tangents about wars in general, being carefree, not watching (sad) news, doing good deeds, fate/destiny, and just making a difference on a personal level.

At the end, I still felt terrible and thought: great, she probably hates me now.

On the contrary, she wanted to bring me out to have Vietnamese food after our session, but I had a hearing screening (my hearing is fine, except for 30 dB at 8K Hz in the left ear; I guess too much bass-bumping in the Benzo and Hacienda daze...). So I took a raincheck on that.

She also said something very sweet. She spoke with her older brother in Vietnam just recently about me. She told him (and me) that she studied English for seven years in Vietnam and had made several friends in those classes. In the U.S., she has studied English for 10 years and she hasn't met any friends b/c here, she'd rush to class, sit quietly and listen, then rush to another class, rinse and repeat. So she was happy that she made a new friend.

Moi! :)

I hugged her good-bye and told her I'm looking forward to class together next quarter. :)

Then ran out to lament to my brother via cell phone how mortified I was...and then rushed through the door and boxed my BF for putting me in such an uncomfortable situation. BF felt bad (he seriously didn't know it was a bad word), but he thinks my Vietnam Memorial passage was a bigger outcry than the D-word.

Again, one is never too old to get mortified.