i h8 goodbyes.

I guess this indefinite timeline thing is not making things any better either. But I'll just say (for now) that I'll be coming back in a couple of months... so it won't seem as scary when I'm saying my goodbyes. As for now, it doesn't seem like I'm really, truly leaving. I guess it won't hit me until the airport when my grandma starts to tear up <- that's one thing I'm NOT looking forward to... =(

Now that I'm in the process of picking & choosing which clothes to take, I realized I kinda wear the same clothes all the time. There are my constant pieces that I wear on a weekly basis, and then there are those articles which are kind of in the periphery that I wear once in a blue moon. But sometimes, the clothes that I don't wear as often, I treasure more... so what to do? Bring more of the wearable staples and forgo all the occasional items? I hate packing.

I realized once I'm out there, I'll be truly living the bohemian life... not in the sense that things will be romantic and free-spirited, but in the sense that I'll be impoverished... unless I find a sugar daddy that will pay for all my meals & entertainment, but I'm not counting on it... -_- Some of my friends think I'm brave, some think I'm stupid. I am starting to agree more and more with the latter. Quick!~ Hurry up and ship me out of here before I regain sanity!

The future is limitless. And with that, I say "adieu, L.A." Or at least, c u l8r.

one art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

-elizabeth bishop

knowing God

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how can one's heart ache and feel so full at the same time?

happy chuseok

Some people just like talking for the sake of talking or because they like to hear the sound of their own voice.

My theory is that:
1. they are extremely needy for attention.
2. they are uncomfortable with silence.
3. they need some type of validation.

I find people like this pretty annoying (instead of talking, I write/blog... which I guess doesn't make me any better).

Anyway, the other day, I was taking a stroll at our local park. I love going to the park in the mornings- the cool weather, the dog-walking, this sense of "community". I noticed that I go often enough to identify "the regulars." The old German couple, the bearded Japanese man with the lab, the younger gentleman who jogs and always asks what lap I'm on (so competitive~). So the other day, the old German grandpa starts walking next to me and starts chatting me up. He tells me about his old home in Germany, the war, his son, his exercise regiment, etc. I barely shared anything about myself as I just politely nodded and asked the obligatory question here and there. I think I have this intuitive "journalist" mindset where I've grown accustomed to these one-sided convos and knowing which probing questions will allow the "interviewee" to disclose more information. Usually I can feign interest in the other person through good eye contact and frequent "mm-hmm"ing, but this German guy was actually pretty interesting. Then, I came to realize that I enjoy the company of old people and hearing their stories (much more than people in my own age range), possibly just because they lived fuller (usu. hard-knock) lives, thus having cooler stories.

I should probably listen to my grandma more; She's a needy, sometimes demanding lady, but I don't blame her (plus she's quite delightful and lovable most of the time). Not only my grandma- but all of our grandparents- need some good lovin'. I don't mean to preach, but our generation of spoiled brats need to realize how good we have it compared to our forefathers. I was watching the Korean news yesterday, and I caught the segment of the Korean families that were separated during the Korean War. For Chuseok (a Korean traditional holiday), these families will finally be reunited for a day; there were clips of families embracing each other and just bawling on the floor together. They weren't really saying anything, but just wailing each other names over and over again... "Jinwoo-yah!!!" "Mi-sook-ahh!" Ironically, I guess there isn't much to say after being separated for decades... All you can do is hug and cry. According to my mom, not all the families were so fortunate, and these reunited families were picked through an exclusive lottery system. One South Korean man who wasn't chosen, was so disappointed that he committed suicide. This made me die a little inside.

obama mama

I had the strangest dream that i was having an affair with Barack Obama.
We kept meeting at this backdoor cafe in k-town so we wouldn't get caught.
I remember feeling very guilty towards Michelle and little Malia & Sasha.
I told him we couldn't go on this way.
I bought him a pink tie as parting gift.

I saw him on a televised press conference, and he was wearing my tie.

I definitely felt like the Rick Blaine (Casablanca) of this equation. It was for the greater good.

adieu

I crept out the bed at the break of dawn
Like a half-hearted lover in an expired affair.
I packed up the last of my belongings and numbly stared
At the hollowed rooms of our idyllic youth.
Our Still Life with Plastic Banana & Knife.
The wilted paper mistletoe that hung
As an homage to all things beautiful.
I checked my unkempt bedhair in that forbidden bathroom
that still conjured up feelings of tension and unease.

Our last bohemian bastion of our tender greenness
That housed the lost & weary, the dreamy & restless.
Haphazard dinners, solo dance parties,
Friday nights where I ain't got nobody~
The humble, little artist colony
That witnessed the birth of poetry and music.
I stood at the street corner, perched on the broken bicycle seat
Feeling a cold chill signaling that the dog days are over.
Heaving a sigh into the desolate, grey skies
I paid a silent farewell to my sweet corinthian home.

Up (spoiler alert!)

I watched the movie "Up" yesterday.  I went into the theater with little to no expectations.  

I learned from the past, because I remember anticipating Wall-E months before its release and being inevitably disappointed.  I really wanted to like it... I really did.  I love robots.  I loved Short Circuit, I like R2D2, I visit/read Giant Robot,  I used to listen to Ima Robot, I like Kid Robot.   My favorite character from Futurama is Bender (He looks like Homer, but... a robot!). And despite it's 96% rating on Rottentomatoes.com,  I remember feeling like there was something missing in the film... yeah it was beautifully made and had a strong eco and socially conscious message, but there was no emotional attachment.  Call me a sentimentalist, but I felt no pull towards the characters.  I thought Eve was freaking annoying.   And I kind of didn't like the instructive/preachy feel of the movie... c'mon lets keep it simple with the lessons on friendship and love.  I enjoyed the first half of the movie (when Wall-E was just by himself living his little quiet life) a lot more than the second portion where the movie turned too grand and noble.  

And I guess Up did try to be a bit preachy too about endangered species (couldn't stand Kevin and her scary eyes... they should've ditched her when they had the chance) or whatnot, but the overpowering theme of loss and moving on really warmed my heart.  I think I cried 3 times throughout the whole film (not that the amount of tears should measure the quality of the movie), but that's how connected I felt to it.   Or maybe I felt more connected just because Russell was ambiguously Asian... he had to be Asian, no? (Those neglectful Asian dads always out making money and not having time to attend his son's boy scout activities)!  

Also, why is it so much sadder to me when grandmas pass away and leave their husbands behind than vice versa?  I read this children's picture book at the bookstore once and the story was centered on this man and him dealing with his wife passing away (I forgot the name of the book but there was a piece of red string that was used with the illustration on every page... I suppose it was a metaphor of life or something), and I was pretty much bawling by the end of it.   Someone suggested that it's because women have larger social circles and are more dependent on their families & friends, so they won't be as lonely if they are left behind.  I think this is partially true.  To expand on that, I think that men are more "romantics" at heart in the sense that they only have/allow a limited capacity to love, while women are more freely giving of their love to many different people.  Therefore, because we give so much, we fill more fulfilled and less lonely.  Okay, these are my crazy generalizations once again.  But watch "Up."

the inheritance of loss

"Could fulfillment ever be felt as deeply as loss? Romantically she decided that love must surely reside in the gap between desire and fulfillment, in the lack, not the contentment. Love as the ache, the anticipation, the retreat, everything around it but the emotion itself."
-Kiran Desai