Stress.

It's finally Friday, and I'm feeling great this morning from a good night's rest.

Have a good day, TGIF!

Eat like no one is watching.

Summer in the city has arrived, and it feels so nice.

Decisions must be made without regret.

There's been a large presence of college grads in city for the past few days.

Their animated smiles swathed in a cap and gown are usually surrounded by an entourage of ecstatic family members, radiating happiness and a strong sense of pride that becomes immediately contagious to anyone around.

I've had the pleasure of briefly witnessing these joyous moments of theirs as they snap photos on the streets in front of landmarks or are commuting to somewhere on the subway, just as that random bystander in the background who luckily stumbled onto this significant moment of theirs that was years---or perhaps for some even a lifetime---in the making.

And I just want to say, I'm rooting for you. Good luck on your next chapter in life, whatever it may be.

"Nevertheless, I hope that when I die, I will be writing or reading a book at my desk late one snowy night and I will simply put my head down and close my eyes forever. I want that to be the last image of me on this earth."

From the book I'll Be Right There by Kyung-Sook Shin. Page 16.

What's learned from the movies and Hollywood should never be considered how things in life actually pan out.

That's someone's art being experienced, not a real life account of how shit happens.

The words "always" and "never" have been lingering  in my thoughts the past few days...

The amount of commitment these words involve is something that needs to be considered.

My dad told me this morning that he was 32 when I was born, which is my current age now.

I feel like it's going to be a good year for me. Time to work really hard and make shit happen.

"'She was not afraid to be wrong or afraid to fight or afraid to tell someone just like it is, and that's a gift,' Queen Latifah said of Bessie Smith."

From the May 8, 2015, New York Times article: Queen Latifah Stars in 'Bessie' on HBO. Written by Melena Ryzik.

Happy Mother's Day weekend!

I will soon be heading to my parents place with my sister and brother-in-law to stay for the night.

Congratulations to all the moms out there, thank you for all that you do.

Trying to go out on a Friday or Saturday night in New York City sometimes seems like too much of a production at my age right now.

There's just way too many people, and so many places seem like amateur hour.

I'd rather go out on a Monday any day.

"When I died, there was no one around to see it. I died all alone. It's fine. Some people think it's a tragedy to die all alone, with no one around to see it. My high-school boyfriend wanted to marry me, because he thought the most important thing to have in life was a witness. To marry your high-school girlfriend, and have her with you all through life---that is a lot of witnessing. Everything important would be witnessed by one woman. I didn't like his idea of what a wife was for---someone to just hang around and watch your life unfold. But I understand him better now. It is no small thing to have someone who loves you see your life, and discuss it with you every night.

Instead of marrying him, I married no one. We broke up. I lived alone. I had no children. I was the only witness to my life, while he found a woman to marry, then had a child using fertility. Her family origins is large and lives near them---same with his family of origin. I visited them one time, and at his birthday dinner there were thirty relatives and close friends, including their only child. We were at the home of his wife's parents, in the small coastal town where they were building lives. He got exactly what he wanted. He has thirty reliable witnesses. Even if half of them die or move away or come to hate him, he still has fifteen. When he dies, he will be surrounded by a loving family, who will remember when he still had hair. Who will remember every night that he came home stinking drunk and yelling. Who will remember his every failure, and love him in spite of it all. When all his witnesses die, his life will be over. When his son is dead, and his son's wife is dead, and the children of his son are also dead, the life of my first boyfriend will be through."

From the May 11, 2015, issue's fiction story in The New Yorker titled "My Life is a Joke," by Sheila Heti.

What a great start to a short story.

There are people who fade into the background during social settings, and those who don't.

I am the type that likes to fade into the background. Because a lot of times, I don't even know what I want to say until I'm sitting in front of a keyboard.

"I can't afford a vacation, so I'm just going to drink until I don't know where I am."

From an Aunty Acid cartoon by Ged Backland.

Whenever something stupid stresses me out and my mind goes into this dark place, I really need to remind myself, WHO CARES?!

Today is one of those beautiful and sunny Mondays where if I was still in high school, I would wish that we could have class outside.

"We're all just a kid from somewhere."

From a Powerade commercial on television.

This commercial came on a week or two ago when I was at home channel surfing. It's nice that even in those dull moments where I'm mindlessly looking for something entertaining to watch, these nuggets of great inspiration can come.

But yes, the line from the Powerade commercial is so true. We are all just a kid from somewhere. Forever in my heart, I will always just be a kid from Flushing, Queens, who was raised by my Korean immigrant parents that always did the best that they could. And no one or nothing in life can ever take that away from me.

Stay grounded. Exercise patience. Listen to learn. Always be considerate of others, because you never know what battles they are struggling with. Let people finish what they're saying before chiming in. Realize that what you envy in others is never what it seems. Empathize because hatred disappears when you learn someone's true story. Manners matter. Know that our differences are not how we should be associating by. Respect yourself. Love yourself. What you consider as the small details of your life are things that other people dream of having. Be wary of interpreting miscommunication for something more disastrous. Perfection exists when the challenges in life are used as lessons. Beauty and wealth are fleeting, but integrity and goodness are forever. And when someone really pisses you off on the subway, know that 95% of the time they have no idea what they're even doing.

I know that these are all clichés... but why are they so easy for us to forget at times?

A long time ago, we were all just a kid who wanted ice cream.

"Don't be distracted by the tented stalls outside the 24-hour HanYang Mart in Flushing, Queens, with their promises of baked eggs and potato pancakes shaped like hearts. There will be time for them.

Go in, past the stacks of 15-pound bags of rice and the clothing nook. (If you've reached the counter selling deli manjoo, little spongecake fish with guts of sweet cream, you've gone too far.) Stop at the sign that says HanYang BunSik in Korean, with an English subtitle: Snack Corner.

The name is literal. The restaurant, which started 14 years ago as just another tented stall, now occupies a proper corner of the market. Tables are placed efficiently back to back, with benches that fit three people to a side, provided they're feeling friendly. Dishes fall under the Korean category of bunsik, or snacks, although many are more substantial than snacks in the Western definition, a reminder of how far we lag behind other cultures in this culinary genre.

Kimchi-and-beef dumplings arrive on plastic foam, under plastic wrap, as if from a 7-Eleven. They are potent nevertheless, as is the similarly packaged soondae, a dark sausage of ground beef and pork in a shiny casing that suggest the skin of a Goth balloon. There's a hint of pork blood seeping through, its moody tang offset by embedded grains of sticky rice.

From the April 30, 2015, New York Times article "At HanYang Bunsik, Snacking is Encouraged," by Ligaya Mishan.

"Margaret: Hey Violet, where are you going?
Violet: I'm going to get drunk!
Margaret: Attagirl. "

From the movie "9 to 5."

People watching in New York can be funny. Passersby are captured in that moment, and then an entire story about who they are and where they're going immediately materializes.

However, the stories and reasoning behind who they are not really about them at all, but more about the person whose head it's in.

Flaws and integrity.

Mermaid Stickers.

The same bad decisions, over and over.

It's got to stop.

"For Chibu, Chiamaka, and Chidebe---the best stories Sheri and I will ever tell."

From the dedication page of the book Foreign Gods, Inc, by Okey Ndibe.

Wow, what a beautiful book dedication!

Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Mental smile. Exhaustion.

Food always tastes so much better when your body is actually hungry.

Why do I so easily forget this all the time?

"Like a moth to a flame, 
burned by the fire.
My love is blind,
can't you see my desire?"

From the song That's the Way Love Goes by Janet Jackson.

Sun day. Sundae. Sunday.

Have a good one.

With the temperature here in New York City starting to become warmer, it was nice to actually be out of my apartment today and walking around. 

It probably wasn't just due to the winter weather, but I feel like I've been in hibernation mode for the past 10 months or so. I've gone out every so often during this time period, but for the most part if I wasn't with my two best friends or at an obligation I had to attend, I spent a lot of the time plopped on my couch, eating in stretchy pants. Going out just got really tiresome, and vegetating at home far away from crowds and strangers felt so nice. I started working service jobs in the restaurant industry a long time ago, but a lengthy stretch of last year was especially exhausting because I was doing it 7 days a week, with a lot of that time being on my feet. Any opportunity to relax at home became such a luxury and I milked it for all that I could. The last thing I ever wanted to do was be at some crowded bar or restaurant, and so my apartment transformed into a safe space for me to decompress away from the world. 

I mean yes, essentially any true home should provide that, but moderation is key. After I eventually stopped working 7 days a week, constantly staying in slowly mutated into hiding away from the world. But it was only from walking around for hours today that helped me finally realize that. Not being in my twenties also has had a large part of my evolution of becoming a homebody, but that doesn't mean I should shut myself away from society at such an extreme. In my lifetime, I've spent way too many years at home just eating and watching tv, and then eating some more and watching tv again.

I met my friend Judy today around noon at Fort Greene Park. It felt really nice to be there because I've become used to this stale routine of always being in the same neighborhoods at the same times of day. I'm usually either at my place in the Financial District, around the Flatiron District for work, or if I'm at all out with friends, it's most likely in the East Village or somewhere else nearby downtown. Being in Brooklyn during the daytime today with so many people out and about helped me recall what I've been missing out on during my months of always doing the same exact shit.

We spent a good chunk of time at the park, catching up on stuff while people watching. Afterwards we stopped by the Brooklyn Flea before getting some food close by on Fulton Street. By this point I was feeling good from all the fresh air and change in scenery, so when I ran into an old friend I hadn't seen for years in the restaurant we were eating at, it all just felt so right. The fact that this friend lives in Los Angeles and was only in town for a short while made it feel all the more auspicious. Judy and I parted ways after we ate and I decided to take advantage of the remainder of the day by walking to DUMBO, and then finally heading home by foot from there over the Brooklyn Bridge.

Right now in my life, one thing I have to keep reminding myself of is that going out should not always have to equate to eating at a restaurant or getting plastered at a bar. Working in so many busy service industry jobs that had me busting my ass during shifts sometimes makes it hard to remember that going out can consist of a million other things, especially in this city. Because for a while it seemed like being out meant being at work in a restaurant, and being out at a restaurant seemed like being at work.

In a way it feels great that I've outgrown going out to only eat or get drunk all the time, since that was basically my all of my twenties. But at 32 now, I've got to discover new ways of being outside the house while feeling somewhat productive in whatever way possible and not like I'm getting sucked into the same behavior. It's time to at least try to break out of my comfort zone in a smart and sensible way, because now that I'm in my thirties, it just seems like the natural route to go down.

Below are some pics from my gorgeous Saturday today.

"You know, being from Queens---that's as good as it gets right there."

Said by Nas in the documentary Time Is Illmatic.

"She's a big girl, she knows what she's doing, and when you look her in the eyes, there's plenty more than your own reflection staring back."

From the article Why We love Nimrat Kaur by Dave Besseling in the April 2015 cover story of GQ India.

Anything worth doing takes hard work.

Anyone who makes something look easy is a pro and just good at their job.

"Once in a while, the ever-orbiting cluster of actors turns out a star we didn't see coming, but once they separate from the rotation, it's a brightly lit affair.

In the case of Nimrat Kaur, even when you look at other actresses with similar backgrounds---maybe the army-bratdom, the packing up for Bombay in their early twenties, going from being a prop in a TV ad to endorsing things in them---this Punjab girl from the NCR still confounds the formulae."

From the article Why We Love Nimrat Kaur by Dave Besseling in the April 2015 cover story of of GQ India.

Absolutely.

"The cause of living in the past is dying right in front of us."

Said by the character Rhett Butler in the movie Gone With the Wind.

Di mak!

"I believe that I have developed the opposite of FOMO, in fact: I have a case of FOGO, Fear of Going Out."

From the April 27, 2015, NYMag.com story "FOGO Is the New FOMO" by Alexis Swerdcloff.

I eat, because I feel.

"I got a bone to pick.
I don't want you monkey mouth motherfuckers sittin' in my throne again!"

From the song King Kunta by Kendrick Lamar.

Hard work needs patience.

"Ms. Hiller has had the same dealer for 35 years, watching as his regulars have gotten older and grayer."

From the April 13, 2015, New York Times article "Smoking Marijuana for 50 Years, and Turning Out Just Fine," by David Gonzalez.

"One day I just stopped and asked myself: What in the world are you doing with your life? I had no goals anymore and I was just spinning my wheels, watching my self-confidence disappear."

From the book Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage, by Haruki Murakami. Page 315.

"But despite prophecies of doom for the publishing industry, today paper books are still going strong, and digital books are finding their own niche."

From the April 10, 2015, New York Magazine online post, Books Will Never Die---You'll Just Find Them in Virtual Bookstores and Read Them on Your Phone, by Claire Landsbaum.

Love live books!

When the question of "why?" is asked? There's not always an answer.

Clickbait.

"The American ice cream sandwich was born in the Bowery district of Manhattan in the early 1900s, when a pushcart vendor slapped together skinny wafers and vanilla ice cream and handed them for a penny each to shoeshiners and stockbrokers alike."

From the April 9, 2015, New York Times article, The Ice Cream Sandwich Comes of Age, by Ligaya Mishan.

"The girls had suddenly disappeared, and Haida had taken their place. Just as Tsukuru came, Haida had quickly bent over, taken Tsukuru's penis in his mouth, and---careful not to get the sheets dirty---taken all of the gushing semen inside his mouth. Tsukuru came violently, the semen copious. Haida patiently accepted all of it, and when Tsukuru had finished, Haida licked his penis clean with his tongue. He seemed used to it. At least it felt that way. Haida quietly rose from the bed and went to the bathroom. Tsukuru heard water running from the faucet. Haida was probably rinsing his mouth.

Even after he came, Tsukuru's penis remained erect."

From the book, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage, by Haruki Murakami. Page 127.

Having read many Haruki Murakami books over the years, the main protagonist in most of his stories can be expected to be a certain type of guy. They are usually uncomplicated, appreciative of the subtle details in a woman's body, moral, a jazz or classical music enthusiast, intelligent deep thinkers, carnal, not fussy eaters, content, more of a cat person---and in a lot of ways, interesting in a sense because they are also very average and relatable.

In all of Haruki Murakami's books, the male protagonist is always quite sexual. There are usually passages with explicit details of sexual occurrences, but they are not done in an extraneous way to be salacious and tawdry. Actually, they create more of another dimension of the character, and are usually integral elements to the book's plot that symbolizes not just sex, but that our sexual needs are never just isolated incidents that provide thoughtless relief to the body. Instead, they are the events that often shape other parts of our lives and can result in unanticipated aftereffects. A lot of these sexual incidents in his books also take place in a dreamlike dimension of fantasy, in a world where nothing is what it seems. These subconscious states are far from the normal state that we all wake up to, but borderline between the real world and a hallucinatory daze.

I'm currently reading his latest book, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage. The protagonist in this book is a guy name Tsukuru, and he falls in line with the main characters in most other Haruki Murakami books. Last night when I read the passage I quoted above, it was the first time I had ever seen his main character have any sexual engagement with another guy. My mouth dropped with each sentence I read, and it was all so unexpected. I liked that Murakami executed this in a way that is so in line with most all sexual encounters he writes about, and this too took place not in the regular world, but in a universe of the inner-self that is different for all people.

It's funny because before I started reading this book, I actually did wonder if Haruki Murakami would ever have one of his protagonists be gay or have a gay sexual encounter. I guess dreams do come true!

Speak your truth.

"Londoners won't abandon a restaurant after six months, or six years, just for novelty's sake, nor is brand-newness a sufficient condition for adoration."

From the a story in the April 2015 issue of Bon Appétit titled, A Modern Guide to Timeless London, by Lauren Collins.

It's the start of a new day.

And I will give my mind and soul the fresh slate we all deserve.

"Only bad witches are ugly."

Said by the character Glinda the Good Witch in the movie The Wizard of Oz.

Bad + Witch = Bitch?

"And despite her religious reservations, she said she might cater a same-sex wedding if she felt comfortable with the couple."

From the April 4, 2015, New York Times article, Indiana Residents Rue Damage to State's Welcoming Reception, by Richard Fausset.

Comfortable with what exactly? Comfortable with their race? Or religion? Or class? Or what country they were born in? Or hair style? Or waist size? Or if their last name starts with a vowel or syllable? Or their go-to comfort food? Or their favorite sex position? Or if they've ever visited Antartica? Or if they sing in the shower? Or if they eat breakfast food for dinner? Or their pet's name? Or their favorite Céline Dion song? Or whether they thought the dress was white and gold or blue and black? Or their preferred brand of light bulbs?

Solution, or fantasy?

Happy Easter to everyone!

I hope you have a great Sunday with your family and loved ones.

How do you define the teenager of 2015 in one word?

LIKE.

Like, just like their post if you like it.

Life is just one continuous panned out shot.

It's Friday night and the weekend has started!

And I will be home in stretchy pants vegging on the couch.

We're all dreamers and natural storytellers.

The version of things that exist in our heads is always right until we find out otherwise. The circumstances of a picture we see. The face belonging to an email address. The details behind a true-to-life story someone tells us. Our distinct creative powers steer so much of this, and the possibilities are endless.

And that's why words especially will always allow us to dream, hope, conjure, and create forever.

It's all so beautiful.

Being an adult means wearing shoes that need their laces tied every morning.

Congratulations to my good friends Susy and Ricky for their upcoming bundle of joy!

It was great to catch up with them over lunch at Marta.

"'Vascularity is the new six-pack,' says Elias Carmelo, a personal trainer and model in New York City, who says that making his veins pop is his top priority before a photo shoot. The most essential is the cephalic, which runs along the forearm and biceps from the write to mid-shoulder---a beating indicator that a tank-top or tight-tee wearer is in shape everywhere else. 'When you can see that vein, you think, Wow, that guy's pretty fit,' Carmelo says."

From the March 17, 2015 Details.com story, How Veins Became the New Six Pack, by Kayleen Schaefer.

Clear and brisk skies in Sunnyside, Queens, last weekend.

Today's weather in New York seemed like the first time in the entire year to hit over 60 degrees. Even though it was dreary, rainy, and somewhat humid out, it was still nice to go outside and not be freezing cold.

My work is located on 25th Street near the Flatiron Building. I'm lucky that I sit by a window, and was able to crack it open today to get some air circulating into the office because the temperature and humidity from outside had it feeling stuffy. It was after 3 o'clock when some coworkers and I noticed a smell of something burning. It definitely wasn't coming from anywhere in our office, and we realized the odor was being wafted in through the open window.

It was soon after when we all learned about the building explosion in the East Village on 2nd Avenue and 7th Street. Watching it unfold in realtime through news outlets, blogs and social media was engrossing, considering how many countless times I've walked down that block in my life. And I couldn't believe that the smell from the fire was so potent and strong even from my office, forcing us to close the window at some point.

It's crazy how such damaging and life-changing results can happen in an instant. My thoughts and prayers go out to those who were hurt and are still missing because of this terrible event.

"Sometimes it seems like we're all living in some kind of prison. And the crime is how much we hate ourselves."

Said by Angela Chase in the show My So Called Life. Season 1, Episode 5.

Alone.

Lonely.

Longing.

Belong.

To nothing.

Happiness is...

...waking up another day to try again and figure it all out.

Anytime I catch myself overthinking something nowadays, I try to stop immediately to focus on something more tangible. This oddly seems to happen a lot while I'm using the bathroom, and results in me staring directly at tiles on the wall to study all its overlooked details.

It's funny how the concept of overthinking is not something I ever fully grasped until about a year or so ago, but now it crosses my mind a few times a day when I catch myself starting to ponder about random things. It's been really useful actually, because it helps put me at ease at times and takes the edge off my anxiety. Being able to do this has allowed me to just approach things differently, and I like it. If an old boss had never started to jokingly use this term about me at work, I'd probably be going through the same mental cycles about everything constantly throughout the day. It's nice to be able to turn the volume down a notch.

When I read back on some of the content of my old entries here, it's like woah okay my mind is really just going off tangent. The feeling is both funny and sometimes gratifying because I can recognize that while I still have a gazillion things to work on, this is one thing that I feel I've grown and improved upon.

Woot woot, 32. Life is great.

Dear Failure,

Thank you for all that you've taught me.

best,
thwany