"But did that ever make you happy?"

From the song Pin by Grimes.

The following essay is in celebration of my blog's 10th anniversary this month.

Not Always Cooking On High Heat by Tae Yoon

The only thing I really knew how to cook as a kid was instant ramen. For Koreans, instant ramen is like our version of fast food in a way. It's convenient, unhealthy, and oh so crave-worthy---which is everything a youngster wants when they're hungry. And whether it was while sleepy-eyed during breakfast or as an afternoon snack, it never ceased to quickly assuage an appetite.

No one really taught me how to make instant ramen when I was younger, but it wasn't difficult to figure out. I would turn the flame on to high heat and then stand there, watching to ensure I'd know the exact moment the water was ready. Then I'd drop in the noodles and flavor packets without wasting even a second of time. After a few minutes when the ramen was cooked, of course the best way to eat it was straight from the pot as soon as the gas was turned off. I would blow furiously into the first heap of noodles dangling from the chopsticks to avoid burning my mouth. And when the last spoonful of soup was devoured, that feeling of satisfaction came not only from my full stomach, but in a way, also how promptly I'd gotten there.

And for much of my life, this wasn't just how I cooked ramen. But basically how I did anything that wasn't good for me.

Drinking until I black out. Eating to the point of feeling physically ill. Smoking weed incessantly to never not be stoned. These three activities have honestly been way too big a part of my life for the past decade. And it's been a long and earnest journey to have a better understanding of why.

Alcohol has always been a big part of my life. The combination of growing up in New York and being Korean-American resulted in the excess of two big drinking cultures ingrained into my everyday norm. Going out to get hammered wasn't just for fun, but a way of being. The first real experience I had with alcohol was with a cousin and his friends at an old club on 32nd Street called News. We were 16-year-old sophomores in high school back then, ordering bottle service of Johnny Walker with fake ids and money we had all carefully saved up. It goes without saying that drinking the whiskey was only done in shots. This fast pace of imbibing felt welcoming and natural. Whoever it was initiating the next round to toss another one back, it was never an issue with me. Even then, I knew what state I wanted to be in, and was determined to get there as fast as possible. And as we all got wasted throughout the night, the rest of the guys focused on scoring phone numbers from girls while I aimed to get more drunk and dance my feelings away.

When college came around, my drinking patterns had already pretty much been set. From that early age, I was proud of the fact that I could handle a lot more alcohol than my friends. But the problem was I didn't know when to stop. Even at my 18th birthday party at a Flushing bar that let in underage drinkers, forcing everyone to clink glasses with only short breaks in between was my right as the birthday boy. Naturally, I ended up getting smashed off beer and soju. And ultimately began barfing into the empty beer pitchers on our table that night while simultaneously farting loudly as my friends looked on with enjoyment.

Being the comically drunken mess was obviously not something I was embarrassed of, because it sort of became my thing. I just liked getting fucked up. Since I was pretty closeted and was never in a relationship, I wasn't ever the one in the group who was dating so-and-so or having romantic drama. I was the guy who liked to have a good time and get wasted instead, deeming me neutral and harmless to others. Sure, I partied fast and hard and blacked out all the time. But I still kept my life together for the most part. Yes, I drank excessively, but so what? It wasn't a big deal. I mean I wasn't bothering anyone with it... except for myself, that is.

When I started this blog ten years ago at the age of twenty-three, this style of drinking was the only thing I knew. While I also slowly came out during this period, I was still always the single guy. And being so made it easy to continue partying this way into my early thirties. But now at the age of thirty-three, it's only within the past year or so that I've become truly exhausted of this pernicious cycle.

This much needed change of perspective is long overdue and a buildup of so many things, especially from a few events that happened in the past couples of years. The first is I lost my iPhone on a night out, and didn't even notice it until the next day. If I factor in the $800+ I paid to replace it, my stupidity from that evening literally cost me over a grand. The next incident happened on a night some friends and I went to a club in Brooklyn to see this big DJ spin. I got really inebriated early before any of my friends did. The DJ's set hadn't started, but I had to leave the club first because I could barely function. As I stumbled out of the venue alone to go crash at my friends' place, I got lost and couldn't find the nearby subway station. After I did eventually get on the G train, I was so drunk that I knocked out on the subway and woke up at the last stop of the train. I'm not even sure how long I was passed out on the G, because my friends who left the club hours after me got back to their apartment long before I should have. I remember opening my eyes at the Church Avenue stop to missed calls and frantic texts from my friends asking where I was. It took all my energy to stay awake in my drunken stupor when the train started moving again so I wouldn't miss my friends' stop. But to think about being trashed and passed out by myself on a Saturday night close to 5am where I was completely incapacitated, I'm just really grateful nothing happened. Another thing I've become acutely aware of during booze-filled sessions are these reoccurring moments where I actually haven't blacked out yet, but know I've had too much to drink. My brain will seem functional, but when I attempt to talk, everything coming out of my mouth makes me sound like a drunken idiot. I'll try to have a conversation or engage with someone, but my sentences emerge slurred and nonsensical. It's like what's happening in my head doesn't match how I'm directing my body, as if I'm no longer in control. All I can think at those moments is, holy shit, I totally sound like that drunk guy who needs to go home. I essentially make bad decisions when I drink, with the worst being that I'll order another.

These episodes are just a few of many that have made me re-evaluate my behavior, and has me fully accepting, "Tae, the party's over."

At this age, my hangovers are unbearable as well. The day after a late night out renders me totally useless. Not remembering how I got home or what dumb shit I said the night before has became more of a mental liability too. The stakes seem be higher now, and I've become hyper conscious about all the wasted time, money, and energy I've dedicated to this hobby. How many more times can I go out and get shitfaced like this? How much longer can I tell myself that I'm still actually having fun?

And it's not just with alcohol that I've been going at full speed with for the last ten years, but my issues with food have never left me. This dysfunctional relationship I've had with food is something I constantly struggle with. Eating provides this mental relief where nothing else matters. It's a goal that's so easily achievable and that I'm good at. Sometimes I just feel like I have to keep eating and eating until there's nothing left, or I'm full to the point of feeling gross. Providing nourishment to my body is the least likely reason I ever eat. Instead, I eat because it keeps my obsessive thoughts preoccupied. I eat because it's fulfilling on so many messed up levels. I eat because I deserve it, god damn it. I eat because sometimes I really don't like myself. But I know this has got to stop, and is something I need to truly gain control of. If I add up all the time spent in the past ten years of me being self-critical about my weight, it would be enough write a self-help book about how to be happy in life.

Smoking weed goes hand-in-hand with my immoderate drinking and eating. I'm the type of person who would rather be stoned all day everyday if possible. Life is straight up more interesting that way. And whether it's walking down the street or grocery shopping, even the most mundane activity transforms into something with layers and dimension. Marijuana has always relaxed me in a way where I stop overthinking everything, and I can just simply be. That feeling of liberation allows me to go about my day and not focus on things that can be emotionally draining. And that fuzzy warmth, I just love it so much. I get out of my head and become social. Why wouldn't I want to feel like that all the time? And that's where the problem lies. I've been toking up regularly since college, and have gone through years of doing it almost daily. But I can't just smoke one bowl. Like Ariel sang in the Little Mermaid, "I want more." And rolling joints nonstop or continuously packing another bowl to keep the party going became my routine.

The consequences of always getting stoned like this didn't hit me until about a year-and-a-half ago. I began to notice that whenever I ate, my food would taste really muted. I would be eating something I love, such as instant ramen, but its flavors I was expecting just weren't there. Then a week later, I would be having the same thing and everything would be fine again. My taste buds hovered on and off like this for some time, until one day they just seemed to disappear altogether. Yes, I could still tell the difference between things like ketchup and mustard, but there would be no discernible characteristics for either. Food literally lost its flavor, and I started eating more off texture, temperature, and appearance. When I finally went to go see an ear, nose and throat doctor, I was truthful about how much weed I smoked. My doctor advised me to stop my habit to see what changes. And lo and behold, my sense of taste fully returned months later.

The past ten years haven't just involved this trinity of bad habits though. There's definitely been way more of an abundance of good. I've been fortunate to have matured and grown into my true self. I've proved to myself who I really am and what I'm capable of. It's been an adventurous trip filled with humbling lessons that have allowed me to make a million mistakes at the same time. But I'm glad to have gotten a lot of them out of my system, and have no regrets about anything.

So much of the unhappiness I used to have back in 2006 dissolved with every subsequent failure I went through, struggle I overcame, and accomplishment I achieved, many of which are chronicled here. The ups and downs of this past decade have always existed over a foundation of growth, and that's what I'm most grateful for. Discovering something new everyday and keeping that nugget of knowledge to use during another high or low in life, that's what it's all about. And one important tip I'll always have at hand for myself is to simply chill out. Life doesn't always have to be lived like I'm cooking on high heat. A drink or two is enough for a fun time. A satisfying meal doesn't have to involve feeling stuffed with regret. A singular joint is plenty in providing the pleasure I'm seeking. And instant ramen can be cooked with patience at a boil and still taste great.

Looking back on the past decade of this blog, I now truly believe that everything in life will always be okay. Because I am the author of my own story, and I choose to write a happy one.

Hot sauce is life.

Happy Easter to everyone.

"I'll make the effort,
love can last forever.

From the song Thirty-Three by the Smashing Pumpkins.

"So I pull my collar up and face the cold,
on my own."

From the song Thirty-Three by the Smashing Pumpkins.

It's been a pretty mild winter in New York City this season. While we did have Winter Storm Jonas, the rest of the time has been tolerable compared to recent years. The past few weeks have been similar to recent months, with the temperature requiring a denim jacket on one day and then a winter coat on the next.

Today was maybe even just a t-shirt kind of day. That's why when I got on subway home after work, stepping into the car's air conditioning for the first time this year was a welcomed surprise. It was a good reminder of the upcoming summer, and all the sunny times to come.

"이름부터 예사롭지 않은 '귀부인'이 드디오 오픈했다."

From the March 15, 2016, Vogue Korea online story: "요즘 화제의, 한남동 귀부인." Written by 윤수현. (LINK)

If you're ever in Seoul, please go check out my friend's new bar in Hannam Dong called Gwibuin!

We hit it off in Thailand...

"Three suicide bombers---including two brothers---carried out the attacks on Brussels on Tuesday, the Belgian authorities announced on Wednesday, as they continued to hunt for at least one more assailant. The toll from the assaults stood at 31 dead and 300 injured."

From the March 23, 2016, New York Times article: Brothers Among 3 Brussels Suicide Attackers; Another Assailant is Sought. Written by Alissa J. Rubin, Kimiko De Freytas-Tamura and Aurelien Breeden.

Absolutely terrible.

Sometimes, after I write something, it doesn't matter that I might hate everything about it the next day.

Crazy.

The past few weeks or so.

YES to the weekends!

Dear friends,

Please check out my latest story for VICE's food channel, MUNCHIES: The First Soju Made from Grapes Could Spare You a Killer Hangover.

Thanks.

I just want to stay in bed with a pie of Sicilian pizza and a good book.

"She leads a lonely life."

From the song All That She Wants by Ace of Base.

Every recipe is a story.

Carbs on carbs on carbs.

Someone I once interviewed for a story said never talk about your problems to others, because most people don't care, and a small percentage are happy you have them.

Therefore, I will just write about my problems through fiction instead.

"With heroin cheap and widely available on city streets throughout the country, users are making their buys and shooting up as soon as they can, often in public places. Police officers are routinely finding drug users---unconscious or dead---in cars, in the bathrooms of fast-food restaurants, on mass transit and in parks, hospitals and libraries."

From the March, 6, 2016, New York Times article: Heroin Epidemic Increasingly Seeps Into Public View. Written by Katherine Q. Seelye.

When your Saturday morning bikram yoga class isn't super packed and only has three other students in it, you know it's an auspicious start to a nice weekend.

Unreleased creativity mutates, materializing in so many toxic forms.

You are not the negatives thoughts in your head.

Today's a very special day. HAPPY 10th BIRTHDAY TO MY BLOG!

An essay to commemorate will be coming soon.

Dear friends,

Please check out my latest write-up for VICE's food channel, MUNCHIES: Being a Sober Bartender Helps Me Remember You Being an Asshole.

Thanks.

Failure is still the outcome of trying, and that's the most important part.

The weather in New York City today is like a glorious spring day in May.

I hope everyone is enjoying their Sunday as much as I am.

A little bit of a pot belly never hurt anybody.

"We met at a bookstore!" said no couple ever in all the history of bookstores.

When I was in elementary school, my parents moved my family up to Alaska for a brief stint. Even though I was born in Queens and most of my relatives live here in New York, my father's family has deep roots in America's 49th state. It was where they first immigrated to in the U.S. from Korea, and I still have relatives there to this day.

My family ended up in up Nome. It was 1995 and I was in the middle of sixth grade then, and I remember being thrilled about relocating to a place that was so isolated, the only way to get there was by plane. My parents, two older sisters, and myself started a new life as owners of the only Chinese restaurant in town named Twin Dragon. And not only was it the sole spot for any type of Asian food there, but we were also one of only three Asian families living in Nome at that time as well.

After we arrived, my parents completely redid the space, breathing new life and lightness into the restaurant. The dining room's interior was totally renovated by my mom after a trip to California to purchase new mirrors, wallpaper, decorations, and furniture. My dad worked on the exterior by repainting the outside of the restaurant red and adorning the windows with new decals. The most dramatic change of the restaurant's facade were large gold letters above the front door spelling out Twin Dragon, which my mom had brought back from her trip as well. We were overjoyed at the before and after transformation, and felt extreme pride in our small family business. The moment I knew that other townsfolk had also noticed was not long after while I was at school. That's when I overheard my science teacher, who I recall was named Mr. Brannen, talking to another teacher about how great the restaurant's new look was. Words couldn't express how happy I was for the rest that school day (more HERE).

Running the restaurant was tough though, and required long hours---but it was great because my family did it all together as a team. My mom and sisters would wait tables, and my dad would cook all the food and run things in the kitchen with a few employees. I myself was the designated dishwasher, busboy, and overall gofer. If my dad ran out of produce, I would hop on my bike and pedal for my life to Hanson's Trading Company for a store run. If the phone was ringing off the hook, I would take down orders and then go back to washing the pile of dishes that were always waiting for me. In due time, my parents and family settled into our new lives and business. Thanks to my dad's great cooking and my mom's sweet demeanor, we became friendly with regulars and even started delivering our food, which I don't think was at all common for Nome at that time. I remember my dad driving around with a foldout map, trying to make sense of all the streets and addresses of the town. With Nome having such a long history connected to the Alaska Gold Rush and also being the last stop of the Iditarod, our customers were always a mix of both locals and tourists.

As a young kid, it didn't take long for me to adapt to my new surroundings. Alaska's beauty first captivated me while living in Anchorage, because all of my family and relatives were really into the outdoors. We would go camping, fishing and skiing all the time, often for long periods with my dad's huge Chevy Suburban or my uncle's RV packed to the brim with gear and Korean food. But when I arrived at Nome, its own natural grandeur and charm enraptured me in a whole new way. With tundra all around and the Bering Sea in our backyard, or looking up to discover the Northern Lights on a winter night, I relished in Nome's magnificence. Biking around by myself past midnight with the most beautiful hues of sunlight lighting my way in the summertime, or hopping on the backseat of my friends' snowmobiles to get around in the extreme winters always had life feeling like an adventure. Our restaurant was located on the town's main thoroughfare named Front Street, which was parallel and right next to the Bering Sea. During downtimes at the restaurant, I loved crossing over Front Street to the seawall of rocks so I could just sit and stare at the water. This was also around the time Disney's Pocohontas came out, so my young imagination loved jumping from rock to rock or peering between them for dried starfish or beach glass.

Back then, the outside world literally seemed so far away. With no Internet, computer, or cellphones, nor even the ability to drive anywhere far, the only connection to the rest of civilization outside of Nome was through cable television and the postal service. All mail had to be picked up and sent to a P.O. Box at the post office on Front Street, which was a short walk away from the restaurant. Since I was always helping out my parents and working, I usually had spending money. I used most of it by purchasing money orders at the post office to buy clothes from the J.Crew catalog, or seahorses and other peculiar items from the advertisements in back of Boy's Life magazine. Religiously watching MTV and my subscriptions to Disney Adventures and Nickelodeon Magazine also helped me stay in tuned with pop culture as well.

My family eventually ended up leaving Nome after I finished the seventh grade and I was back in Flushing for the 8th grade. Thinking back on our time living there brings me a lot of happiness, but seems like another lifetime ago. I haven't been back in twenty years since I left, so a part of it almost feels like a dream that only lives in my memories. And that's how it remained, until I decided to Google "Nome, Alaska" today. 

To my absolute surprise, I not only found out that Twin Dragon is still there and serving food, but that the exterior of the restaurant is absolutely the same as we left it from two decades ago. The signage and window decals that my parents put up are still on the front of the building, while the large gold letters spelling out Twin Dragon and remnants of my dad's red coat of paint also continue to live on. When I stumbled onto a picture online dated from a few years ago showing this, I decided to call the restaurant today to verify that's how it all still looks. And I was told that it does.

Below is a picture of my dad standing in front of Twin Dragon on a snowy day in 1995. And the picture beneath that is the photo I found online, showing how the exterior currently still looks today.

Now, I hope to go visit Nome again sometime in the future. Hopefully, it won't take me another twenty years to do so.

(Photo Source: Nome Muckin' Around)

The future is fiction.

Homemade Adjectives in 2 Easy Steps
1. Choose a word
2. Add a "y" at the end

It's the ticking of the clock on the wall that makes the flashback complete when I close my eyes.

The familiar sound of the second hand moving takes me back to my old living room in Flushing. It was the heartbeat to my family's old house, always in the background on those late nights sneaking to the kitchen or countless hours in front of the tv. And now as I crash in the living room of my parents' place in New Jersey, the same wall clock hovers somewhere above my head. The comforting sound of life ticking forward comes with big aspirations once more. It's like I'm home in high school again, and everything about the future feels so promising.

It's been a night filled with moments that were years in the making. Being under the same roof with some family after what feels like a lifetime ago, it provides a feeling of being whole again.

"I just called to say I love you."

From the song I Just Called to Say I Love You by Stevie Wonder.

"But I'm feeling prepared.
You know what I'm saying?
And I'm feeling a little more ready for the world.
And less lost,
as I once was.

From the song Piano & I by Alicia Keys.

It's days like today, when I can call my parents to hear their voices in good health along with their well wishes, that make me deeply grateful for all that I have in life.

엄마 아빠, 사랑해!

Going to the Trader Joe's on 6th and 21st right after work is not something to look forward to, especially on a Thursday. As amazing as Trader Joe's fair prices for good products are, along with their really great employees, dealing with the constant crowds just isn't worth it sometimes. But today is different, and even the sea of baskets and carts everywhere filled to a Thursday night level can't be avoided. People in every aisle shop and weave. Some are trying to hustle and keep it moving along, while others stand directly in front of the hummus to take their sweet ass time. The fact that they're blocking it all and making it hard for people to grab any hummus doesn't cross their minds. They contemplate without concern. Then the snaking end of the line beacons with a large sign held higher than everybody, and it happens to be right by the front entrance. Practically the whole store seems to be passed again from that point until checkout, and the queue winds through sections avoided earlier. There are areas and shelves that seem pretty much ransacked as well, only proving as a reminder of relief and gratitude. Shoppers go through a second cycle of everything like dejavu at the rate of the moving line, except eggs were not on the shopping list the first time. So the bare shelves that once held all the eggs seem off, with two random cartons remaining on the top left corner. The third and final carton is two rows below and impossible to miss. The shells of one dozen eggs, which appear totally fine, just sit there exposed with the top open. Even with people trying all around to grab a free sample or cut through, it's hard not to notice the three lonely cartons of eggs. Will they all find a good home?

But a completely different grocery shopping experience later in the night can still save the day. The most reasonable supermarket around the Financial District is on Fulton street. They close at midnight, so going to the store right before 10pm tonight felt cathartic. There were barely any people, and fully stocked shelves glowed with tranquility. Seeing the wall of greens and vegetables being misted with water helped reveal options while in the background of a jungle, or like a personal garden that's been sowed with love. It made buying bags and bags of it really satisfying, especially when an actual choice was presented at the cash registers. Two side-by-side were both open, and the conveyer belt that stood closer then started moving with a warm greeting from the cashier. The short walk home through quiet street backstreets with a backpack and tote full of produce was the perfect way to end the day.

"I'm a Koreana in New York."

From the song Koreana in New York by Roo'Ra.

The answer is always food.

Introverts get no respect.

Broccoli Rob.

Yes, but what does that even mean?

"We were sad of getting old,
it made us restless.
Oh, I'm so mad I'm getting old,
it makes me reckless."

From the song When We Were Young by Adele.

There's nothing better than that feeling on a Friday evening, when you're finally finished with the workweek and free to start reveling in the weekend.

When I left my office today, I didn't really have anything to do or anyone to meet. My go-to solution for situations like these is usually to walk around alone and clear my head. That's when I decided to skip taking the subway and just walk home from work instead while listening to a podcast. I figured I could pop into any supermarkets along the way as well to peruse the aisles and check for things on sale. I ended up stopping by five different stores between the Flatiron District and the Financial District. I guess since it's Friday night, most New Yorkers are out getting drunk or leaving town for the weekend because each place was pretty empty. I liked it though. And luckily, I found at least one good deal at each that I just couldn't pass up.

Reasonably priced groceries, getting a little exercise and soaking in a podcast---it doesn't get better than that on a Friday night.

"Fear will always make you blind."

From the song Face to Face by Daft Punk.

Aglet.

With so much technology available at hand, is there ever a reason to not know anything anymore?

I mean, no matter how large or random your topic is, some sort of information on it can be found with a simple Google Search. Who's to say if your esoteric questions always find their answer, but the era of living without access to data and facts is over. It's all out there for us, waiting to be discovered at the speed of a thought.

But remembering everything you learned, though, that is something I'm still trying to figure out.

"But this is New York City, where the grind never stops."

From the January 23, 2016, New York Times story: For Many Workers, Staying Home Is Not an Option During Blizzard. Written by Rick Rojas and Emily Palmer.

When it began, last night's snowfall was the first real one of the winter for New York. It was pretty at first, and stepping out into it after leaving a bar with friends felt nice.

However, the snow had really accumulated by this morning. I left my friends' place in Brooklyn after crashing on their couch and headed to the subway. There was barely anyone out, and the quiet tranquility and blanket of softness on the streets had me sentimental. It's nice to be back in the comforts of home though. It was really getting windy and ugly by the time I got off the subway back in the city.

I'm sure the snow will eventually turn into messy slush, but below is how it was a few hours ago on this wonderful Saturday morning. The view from Fulton Streets in two boroughs wasn't that different, especially with the Freedom Tower in the second photo totally washed out.

"Lay your head on my pillow.
Here you can be yourself."

From the song Diary by Alicia Keys.

I close my eyes, and imagine I'm on a tropical island with a cold beer.

Fried chicken, 

for the lickin.

Has been stickin,

in my thinkin.

It's not because they didn't want to. It's because they couldn't.

The past few weeks or so.

"I'm lying in the ocean, 
singing your song."

From the song Dark Paradise by Lana Del Rey.

Today.
Day-to-day.
Today, too.

"It seems that no single man can make it through his 30s without feeling a pang of regret for the life he could be having, even if it conflicts with his desire to do exactly what he wants all day long."

From the January 7, 2016, New York Time story: Meet the New York Bachelors Who Yearn for Something More. Written by Sridhar Papu.

Happiness in 3 Steps

1. Come home after work.

2. Continue watching Season 2 of Ally McBeal on Netflix.

3. Go to bed and wake up the next day to do it all over.

"Welcome to the 'Anthropocene' --- a new epoch in our planet's 4.5 billon year history. Thanks to the colossal changes humans have made since the mid-20th century, Earth has now entered a distinct age from the Holocene epoch, which started 11,700 years ago as the ice age thawed. That's according to an argument made by a team of scientists from the Anthropocene Working Group. Scientists say an epoch ends following an event --- like the asteroid that demolished the dinosaurs and ended the late Cretaceous Epoch 66 million years ago --- that altered the underlying rock and sedimentary layers so significantly that its remnants can be observed across the globe. In a paper published Thursday in Science, the researchers presented evidence for why they think mankind's marks over the past 65 years ushered in a new geological time period."

From the January 11, 2016, New York Times story: Signs of the 'Human Age.' Written by Nicholas St. Fleur.

That is absolutely terrifying.

The downpour of rain already had a few people gathering at the bottom of the steps leading up to the street. A few others like myself who had just gotten off the train joined them, as we all stood there inside the Bleecker Street subway station. Some of us looked up into the gloomy sky to watch the heavy rain fall, while other umbrella-less straphangers figured out what to do next with the help of their smartphones. My original plans of getting off one subway stop early to walk to a bar and enjoy the nice weather was no longer possible. But after waiting out the rain for some minutes, it was time to be on my way. It wasn't a surprise there weren't any cabs on Bleecker, and I got stuck under some scaffolding for a while. I enjoyed watching the rain as people still went about their business on the quiet block. When the rainstorm was finally letting down, I decided to start walking with my black tote bag shielding me from the lingering raindrops. After I made a left onto Bowery, I saw the biggest rainbow arched in the sky. It's hard to even remember the last time I saw a rainbow in the city, so today's was especially beautiful.

"You've got to get up every morning, 
with a smile on your face.
And show the world all the love in your heart."

From the song Beautiful by Carole King.

Friday night.

"Bacne is a buzkill!"

From a Proactiv commercial.

"아직 널 보면 나 떨여,
we gotta stay together."

From the song Stay Together by 2NE1.

Heal.

Back when I was living in Bangkok, I wrote the following food story about the city in 2012.

If you are planning to travel to Thailand anytime soon, perhaps you will find some helpful tips below.

Bangkok Food Culture 101 by Tae Yoon

SANG SOM RUM
For thirty-five years now, Sang Som rum has been fueling nights of drunken debauchery and hazy memories for revelers in Thailand. This precarious rum dominates the market of Thai spirits, and the country’s estimated 67 million residents consume over 70 million liters annually. Made of sugarcane and with an ABV of 40%, Sang Som can inexpensively be purchased almost anymore and is most commonly drunk with soda water, cola, or my favorite, in a Sang Som Bucket. Sang Som Buckets are exactly what you’re imagining—a tub of liquids whose only objective is to get you wasted. These buckets are customarily found at tourist bars and make consuming the powerful rum a bit smoother. And since export sales of Sang Som account for 1% of its total market, what better way is there to get acquainted with it while in Thailand?

PASS THE SRIRACHA. NO, NOT THAT ONE.  
When the average American thinks of sriracha sauce, that ubiquitous bottle with its robust red color, distinct green cap and large rooster on the front most likely comes to mind. But in Thailand, it’s a bit of a different story. Sriracha sauce here isn’t eaten with Vietnamese food, found as a staple condiment in places such as Momofuku, nor incorporated into sauces like it is at Applebee’s. Instead, it’s known as a nondescript chili sauce that got its name from the coastal city of Si Racha and is traditionally eaten with seafood. There are numerous available brands of sriracha in Thailand, all of which are mostly unknown to Americans, and vice versa. Most Thais are also unaware of the existence of the Huy Fong Foods brand, which was started by a Chinese-Vietnamese immigrant from California and is what most Americans know as sriracha. And since it’s impossible for me to acquire that here, I sometimes settle for the Thai-made Three Mountains Brand, which is less spicy, slightly sweeter and gives less a kick compared to its American cousin.

FOLLOW THE LUNCH CROWD

While Thailand’s street food needs no introduction, I’m sad to report that Bangkok’s streets are not all lined with stall-after-stall of wonderful deliciousness. Even though I live in a very central part of town, there isn’t a place for me to just quickly pop out to in order to grab a convenient bite. That is, well, unless it’s around lunchtime. Shortly after I moved into my studio, I discovered that the mass of office workers in the many nearby buildings would casually walk into a doorway around lunchtime that is always chained-up at night. My esurient curiosity lead me to investigate, and I subsequently discovered a vast open-air food court that solely exists to feed lunchtime customers. If you’ve come to Bangkok and think your accommodations are in a food-desolate neighborhood, hang around the area from 12-1 to see if there’s some overlooked establishments that are patronized by hungry office workers.

TIPPING
The tipping standards of 15% in America—and 20% in New York City—is unsurprisingly not common in a country where the minimum daily wage hovers around $10. Tipping is not required in Thailand, and this especially makes sense when your street food costs around a dollar or two itself. However, for many modern establishments with more of a full dining experience, there is sometimes a small service charge added to the bill. As someone who has had countless jobs where tips were a part of my livelihood, I can totally empathize with food service employees and don’t mind a service charge at all. And for other places where I’ve had adequate service and there’s no mandatory gratuity charged to the bill, I always feel compelled to not leave without giving something. The smallest bill of money in Thai currency would be ฿20, which equals to less than a dollar, and for most instances it’s sufficient enough to leave. But if you’re feeling extra generous, ฿100 would definitely make someone’s day.

SPRING ROLLS AND PAD THAI ON KHAO SAN ROAD
After living in this city for more than a year-and-a-half, I’ve come to realize that Khao San Road in Bangkok is comparable to what Times Square is in New York City: it’s filled with tourists, avoided by the locals, and gets tiresome pretty quickly. The notorious area of Khao San Road seems to be the absolute go-to stop for backpackers in Southeast Asia. On any given night, there will be thousands of people from all over the world mingling with one another while patronizing the countless number of hostels, budget hotels, bars, restaurants, shops and other inexpensive tourists destinations that fill the neighborhood. One of the edible attractions of Khao San Road are its many vendors who sell low-priced and delicious pad thai and spring rolls, which taste absolutely heavenly after a few Sang Som Buckets. On a side note, while I agree that it can be fun there, I have also heard of many people spending their entire Bangkok vacation at Khao San Road—and that seems like a terrible waste to me.

FORKS AND SPOONS TO CLASS IT UP
Some Asian countries use chopsticks as one of their main tools of eating, but Thailand would not be one of them. Whether it’s a meal of street food being enjoyed while sitting on a plastic stool, or in a luxurious Thai restaurant with a beautiful nighttime view of the city, the majority of its patrons are most likely eating their meals with a fork and spoon. When it comes to eating, Thais find it to be quite rude and inelegant to stuff food into your mouth with a fork. Instead, they use the fork to push food onto a spoon in order to prepare portions for consumption. The fork-and-spoon combination is quite versatile for Thai cuisine, and most Thai food does not require a knife of any sort for cutting. However if cutting is necessary, using the side of a spoon to do so is usually sufficient in most cases. Surprisingly, in Thai culture, chopsticks are most commonly used just for noodles or ethnically Chinese dishes.

WATER, MEET STRAW
When the Thai weather is being its tropical-self, and I’m dripping sweat from every crevice in my body, walking into a 7-11 to buy some water and bask in the free air-conditioning kills two birds with one stone. I know that the straw that’s always offered when purchasing any beverage is something I should accept, but a part of me in my perspiring state finds it completely unnecessary. In Thai culture, it is looked upon by some people as impolite and unrefined to drink liquids straight from the bottle, even for something as simple as bottled water. While I try to adhere to Thai customs and traditions as much as possible since arriving in Bangkok, I always decline the straw in a well-mannered way—and you should feel free to do the same.

YES—I’D LIKE MY LETTUCE WILTED, PLEASE
Many international coffee and tea franchises have branches all over Bangkok. Their selections of salads, sandwiches, wraps and pastries are a nice change from the street food I eat on a constant basis, and I often look forward to chilling out in an air-conditioned environment with Wi-Fi. Chicken Caesar wraps are especially my favorite, but I have to make sure that I don’t forget to add this to my order: “Please, don’t toast it!” Without fail, all of the coffee and tea franchises in Bangkok automatically assume that you want every single food that you order toasted in their oven. In Thailand, the norm is to eat everything toasted if an oven is available. I myself do not prefer to have my lettuce warm and wilted, and recommend that you be sure to note this to the cashier when placing your order as well. The same also goes for coffee that is sold in smaller places and not the international franchises. In Thailand, the norm is for coffee to be sweetened. If you only drink black coffee like myself, be sure to instruct them with “NO SUGAR,” or else you’ll end up with something that I liken to coffee candy.

MEET ME AT THE MALL
Hot weather. Rainy weather. Humid weather. Unbearable weather. The reasons to patronize Bangkok’s many malls might differ from person-to-person. But what’s absolutely clear is, Bangkok is definitely a mall-culture. Most of the malls are easily accessible and even anchor a good deal of the busiest public transportation stops in town. It’s inevitable that most tourists who are not used to Thailand’s tropical climate might at some point experience displeasure due to the weather, and that’s when you know it’s mall-time. One of the many great characteristics of Bangkok’s more popular malls are that they offer a plethora of activities, from ice-skating and bowling to 3D movies and massages, and spending an entire day there can be easily done. To top it off, Bangkok’s major malls offer a broad amount of different food options, making it pleasurable to recharge all that’s needed to before venturing back out into the elements.

RING OF SPICES

At almost any eating spot where Thai food is sold, both low-brow and high-brow, the ring of spices will be there sitting on the table. With the classic view of the ends of their small serving spoons sticking out, this foursome of staple condiments represent the four characteristics that form the basis of all Thai sauces: salty, sour, spicy and sweet. Called khrueng phuang in Thai and translated into "Ring of Spices" in English, dry chili powder, vinegar with chili pieces, sugar, and vinegar with chili powder make up the quartet of spices.

"Natalie Cole, the Grammy Award-winning singer whose hits included 'Inseparable,' 'Pink Cadillac' and 'Unforgettable,' a virtual duet with her father, Nat King Cole, that topped the Billboard charts in 1991, died in Los Angeles on Thursday. She was 65."

From the January 1, 2016, New York Times article: Natalie Cole, Grammy-Award-Winning Singer, Dies at 65.

It's the last day of 2015 and I've been vegging out on my couch since 8am this morning...

The entire day seemed to go by really slow today, but I still can't believe there's only about an hour left until the clock strikes midnight. Well, I'm ready for you, 2016!

Have a happy new year everyone.

"As her confidence grew, her bad habits faded.

'I had to take control of my life,' she said. 'I quit drinking. I don't want to see another drink in my life again.'"

From the December 29, 2015, New York Times series The Neediest Cases: Finding Her Footing Once More After Slipping Off the Career Ladder. Written by John Otis.