bright skies, lasting stars

The Sweet Life.

2011-02-14T16:10:00.000-08:00

Life doesn't get much sweeter than this.

You not only have your momm

y at your every beck and call, the ever-present entourage of your admirers are constantly pouring o

ut praise and love over you.

Food is almost never denied. You don't have to watch your weight, or your diet; if you're hungry or thirsty, you don't have to count calories or worry about the amount of fat in your milk. Your job is to eat a lot, and grow as much as possible.

Everyone, even complete strangers, are captivated b

y you; one little smile, and the whole world is wrapped aro

und your little wittle pinky finger.

Life is good as a baby.

Morning Glory Blooms

2011-01-22T16:36:00.000-08:00

I wrote this review a month or so ago when I watched the movie, and finally got around to editing it to my satisfaction. Though it is no longer in the theaters, let this review serve those who are thinking about renting it when it comes out on DVD. SPOILER ALERT: there are spoilers scattered throughout, so if you do not want to know what happens in certain scenes, DO NOT READ!

Morning Glory is a frantic sprint through the organized chaos known as the broadcasting world. Rachel McAdams, earnest and eager in her role as Becky Fuller, is a perfect fit. Just like her character, she tries hard to prove that she is right for the job. Almost too eager to win over her coworkers and audience, the other characters cannot help but to expect her to break out in song, which thankfully she doesn't. However, McAdams' performance can only stand-out, as the supporting actors cannot match her spunk (though we do see a little of the famous Diane Keaton quirky wit and charm).

My favorite scene, though slightly predictable, is at the first meeting of the Daybreak staff, when Becky is bombarded with questions on her opinions of about a dozen stories. In the midst of these inquiries, Becky looks unsure, insecure, and overwhelmed, and the audience cannot help but feel that this is a test she will not be able to survive. Ty Burrell from Modern Family is perfect in a cameo as the creepy foot-fetishizing anchor. With his entrance into the staff room with an inappropriate comment about granny internet porn, the question as to whether Becky is the best fit for the job hangs in the air. The movie audience holds its breath. Becky takes in a big one of her own, lets it out with a flutter of her "ridiculous" bangs, and fires down each of the questions the staff had previously bombarded her with. With alacrity and composure, McAdams as Becky impresses the staff, the audience, and officially wins over everyone except Ty Burrell's character, whom she fires at the end of the scene.

Throughout the movie there is a good balance of quiet, intimate moments, and glimpses of the fast-paced world of broadcast journalism. Though cliched, the male lead was appropriately cute and disarming, as well as sensitive enough to be played slightly insecurely. The most cinematically appealing part of the film is when Becky is running from the Today Show interview back to the Daybreak studio at the end of the film, with her gauzy gossamer dress gracefully billowing around her slim legs, her pink flats popping against the backdrop of the lights and grayness of New York City, the perfect layout for her bright figure and flighty movement. There were a few laugh out loud moments for me, but the jokes were classy enough not to gross out the older middle-age crowd that will be drawn by Diane Keaton and Harrison Ford's roles in the film. Though not one of the best chick flicks of all time, it is an uplifting coming-of-career movie with a few laughs and warm moments to carry you until the next chick-flick comes around.

Comfort Food as... Comfort Food

2010-11-02T16:29:00.000-07:00

My Grandfather is turning 89 this year. This means he is old. Very old. Meaning he lived in an older, simpler, amazing time when a bowl of kake udon cost only 10 cents in Korea. These days udon is one of the very few dishes he is able to eat, and likes to eat at the same time. As a formerly 5'6" man who due to age is now 5'4" that weighs 120 lbs., there's not much left of him except super pruney skin and rattling antique bones, and hot soups seem to be good for cold bones and uncomfortable dentures. Thankfully he is as mentally agile as he was when kake udon cost 10 cents, though his hearing has not fared as well. On the phone one time, my mom was trying to ask him if he wanted some fish we had bought at the store. She tried "saeng-sun" first, but he didn't get it. Then she tried "mool-goh-gee", but that didn't work either. By this point, she was frustrated out of her mind, and started screaming into the phone "Fiiiiisshhh!!! Fiiissshhhhh!!!!" repeatedly. Listening to this exchange in the next room over, I was rolling on my bed, in a silent fit of laughter.

Trying to choose a restaurant to eat with my Grandfather isn't very difficult. I can count on one hand the number of regular restaurants we frequent with him, including Yashima, my harabuhjee's favorite udon place. Today after his doctor's visit, I brought him there. As we were waiting for the elevator to take us from the parking garage to the restaurant above, he turned to me and said, "Hmm, you brought me to the good udon place, hmm?" (From this dialogue, he kind of sounds like Yoda... he even looks like him too...)

After our dishes had been delivered and we were half way through our meal (don't let his size fool you: he's like the super-skinny Japanese guy that can pack away a thousand hot dogs; he finishes pretty much everything that is put before him), I asked him, "How is the food?"

He looked up, wiped the soup off of his straight white beard, and replied, "The soup here is the best. When I was a young man, around 19 and 20, a bowl of kake udon cost 10 cents. I ate a lot of kake udon then. I think it became a habit".

Huh. A hot, filling soup that not only gave nourishment and comfort when he was young, but also comforts and satisfies in old age. What a concept. Are the foods we are drawn to when the weather gets cold, when stress overwhelms, or when tiredness seeps in, the foods that not only comfort us now, but the exact foods that remind us of more innocent, comparatively worry-less times?

When I left to live in East Asia for two years, I took a box of Fruity Pebbles with me. I opened the box sparingly, making sure the vacuum-seal on the IKEA container was tightly closed every time I used it. I pulled it out when I needed a pick-me-up, when the grayness of East Asian winter got too much for me, when I was stressed and tired and overwhelmed with work. Fruity Pebbles is my comfort food, because each sugary crunchy bite makes me feel like the kid that begged her mom to buy a box at the grocery store, who rejoiced when the puppy-dog eyes finally worked, who couldn't wait for morning to come so I could break out the milk and cereal bowl for that first delicious bite. It reminds me of easier times, when the biggest worry of the day was mom catching me watching TV when I'm not suppose to, when sandy shoes and dirty shirts were the objects of her censure. I wish my biggest worries today were TV and dirty clothes.

It's amazing that tactile sensory inputs can trigger such emotions and memories in the brain, that not only affect our physical body, but our mental, emotional, and spiritual bodies as well. When people talk about comfort food, gooey mac-n-cheese, crispy chicken wings, buttery mashed potatoes, and that oh-so-delish pint of your favorite ice cream flavor immediately jump to mind. But immediately attached to those cravings are very adult feelings of guilt, torture, yearning, and denial also along for the ride. I think we all need to remember the true meaning of comfort food. Comfort food is for comfort, not for guilt. I don't advocate a daily indulgence in all of the foods mentioned above, but I think we all deserve a bit of guilt-torture-yearning-and-denial-free indulgence in our favorite comfort food once in a while. So what if that bottle of cream soda is worth 180 nutritionally empty calories? So what if there are 10 grams of fat in that Snickers bar? It's going to be the only Snickers bar you're going to have this month. And after trying to be a responsible adult day in and day out, you deserve those next 10 minutes of gooey chocolately Snickers-comfort-heaven.

I don't mean to steal, but...

2010-10-20T23:13:00.000-07:00

This is just too good to keep to myself. One of the bloggers that I follow (Totally Severe) posted on her recent trip to Bolivia, and without going into detail, she really captured the experience in just a few phrases:

"Yo soy un río de pie." (from a poem by Reiche)

I didn't really get what this meant, until I'd read the whole post, then reread the title of the post. Then I got it. "I am a river of feet"... doesn't sound as romantic as in Spanish, but it really fulfillingly encapsulates the experience of traveling in a foreign place alone...

"It’s entirely possible that I’ve captured the skin of the city and failed to reveal the heart." (on the photos she took while traveling) ...so freakingly beautiful I wish I had coined this sentence... once again this sentence is like a photo capture of the awkwardness and conspicuousness of being a foreigner doing foreign things in a foreign place... also the stuntedness of a person with limited equipment, limited skills, limited time, limited vision, and limited cultural understanding and assimilation to fully capture the essence, the moment, the feel and time of a place and of being.

I totally get Sarah's struggle of restlessness, anxiety, and exhaustion mixed in with the beauty, thankfulness, joy, exhiliration, and openness of exploring a scary new place. Peace to the traveler.

Burning Qur'ans Does Not Reflect Christ

2010-09-09T11:35:00.001-07:00

Dear Partner in Prayer!

As the anniversary for the September 11th attacks quickly approaches, headlines have become crowded with stories about Islam. For weeks, the media has been reporting on the growing controversy of the Cordoba House, a proposed mosque and Islamic center near the Ground Zero site.

Many Americans are upset about the idea of a mosque so close to the place of the terrorists attack and they have not sat by quietly. Protests have erupted across the nation, and violence has not been far behind. Just last week, a young man stabbed a taxi driver because he was Muslim. Others have vandalized mosques and teenagers allegedly fired off guns outside of a mosque.

Another very disturbing act of retaliation comes from a church in Florida. They have declared September 11th as "Burn a Koran Day." In a field behind their church, they plan to toss at least 200 Qur'ans into a bonfire as a means of condemning Islam and terrorists. Their Facebook page for the event has about 14,000 members.

I have to wonder, what is their goal? What bridges are being built? Although they want to show that Islam is a false religion, they are doing nothing to promote the love of Christ. In fact, they are doing the opposite.

Although, as Christians, we struggle with Islam as a religion, we need to show love and respect. As followers of Christ, we want to share the Truth but in love. This act is not showing the love of Christ. 1 Peter 3:9 tells us, "Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult, but with blessing."

If your Muslim friend mentions this event, I encourage you to apologize on behalf of this church. Explain that they are not reflecting the actions of a follower of Christ. Show them specific examples of how a Christian should act, such as Colossians 3:12 where Paul writes, "Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience."

This week, pray that God would use the tragedy of 9/11 to bring glory to His name and that He would send rainclouds to Florida to cancel "Burn a Koran Day."

Please pray:

That God would use these controversies to His glory
That "Burn a Koran Day" would be cancelled
That God would comfort the families who lost loved ones on 9/11

Reaching Muslims for Christ,

Fouad Masri
Crescent Project

All in the span of seconds.

2010-09-01T19:33:00.000-07:00

Two thoughts today:

As I walked through the long hallway on the first floor of Young Hall, I spied a blotchy brown stain on the tile. Ew, what is that? Is it coffee? Who spilled it? Did it happen this morning? Somebody just lost their whole order of coffee. Who's going to clean it up? How many coffees was that? Who is walking around this morning, not only crying over their spilled coffee, but extra cranky because they missed their daily shot of caffeine? All in the span of about 10 seconds.

Guys (meaning non-uterus-carrying-human-beings), please excuse this brief moment of TMI.

Driving to school today, I thought about the universal reality of the very first period. Every girl goes through it. Though there are many shared responses to the event (What did you do with the soiled panties? Did you hide it? Throw it away? Wash it? Burn it?), revelations on the occurance can vary. "I thought I was dying." "I thought I'd gone to the bathroom in my underwear." "I knew exactly what it was." I also wondered, what are the different responses to this momentous advent into womanhood in different cultures? in different time periods? In different families? For some, it means another additional expense added to the costly job of raising a girl child. For others, it is a chance to celebrate an adolescent's entrance into adult society. And others, it is the time to find a husband and be married off. All in the span of about 20 seconds.

Art is a beautiful thing

2010-08-17T14:58:00.000-07:00

Today I watched the contemporary dance choreographed by Travis Wall and danced by Robert and Allison to Coldplay's severely edited "Fix You" on So You Think You Can Dance. Being that this song is one of my all-time favorites, the cuts and jumps kind of distracted me throughout the dance, but those distractions could not detract from the powerful feelings and emotional energy evidently displayed on that stage. The dance was one of those rare events in life that are so beautiful, it touches something deeper than mere appreciation of athleticism and musicality. This moment was one of the very very rare times when I watched a dance on SYTYCD that made me feel something evocatively significant, deep in that dark, warm, quiet place where sorrow, grief, helplessness, and passion resides within someone who has experienced these emotions.

The story behind the choreography is that Travis' mom is sick, and the dance was a display of his desire to support her and take the pain away. Robert related to the dance, because he also has personal experience with a sick mom, and ultimately Mia Michaels, one of the judges, broke down in her critique by sharing her own experiences with her mom's death.

Allison's dancing was of course excellent, but I think what really sold her performance to me was her facial expressions: pain, suffering, and sadness contorted her gorgeous features, almost a dance itself that mirrored the tortured beauty that was the bodily dance. Robert's dancing was equally exceptional, though with his mundane khaki shorts and plaid top was often literally outshone by the luminescent pink nightshirt and spotlight Allison wore. In either case, Travis' choreography was one of vulnerable and tender moments, violent pain, desperate hope, and exhausted yet exhilarating love that helped drive the son forward to physically and emotionally support his mother.

I've read criticisms and comments by other viewers who've critiqued the overly dramatic praise of this dance, saying that the "moment" seemed forced and too emotional for what the dance actually warranted. After reading a few of these comments, I was disappointed that these reviewers couldn't experience what I did in watching that dance. Like Robert and Mia, I too have felt the helplessness, worry, and pain that one inexorably experiences when a parent is sick. Viewing the performance was like experiencing that pain again, but also the catharsis. I finally came to the conclusion that one could not understand the depth and fullness of this story, without already having experienced the suffering itself. In that way, I feel sorry for those critics who believe that the responses to the dance were overly dramatized, because they will never be able to view this performance in it's physical and emotional entirety, until they have experienced tragedy like the dancer, choreographer, and myself have.

Suffice it to say that my words cannot do this dance justice; therefore, please go watch a video of this dance! And though I wish tragedy on no one, I have to confess that experience will enhance the appreciation of this dance art to the fullest.

Oreganos? Oregonites? Oregonese?

2010-08-04T11:07:00.000-07:00

Last night my sister and I were sitting in my bed, trying to figure out what you call people from Oregon. People from New York are New Yorkers, and California Californians. But what do you call people from Oregon?

This subject came up because we are planning a trip to Central Oregon this weekend, for my elementary school friend's wedding. We haven't been to Oregon since we were kids, so we are anxious to plan out activities to see all the things we didn't appreciate back then.

The rugged natural beauty of the locale, exciting outdoorsy adventures, and the native epicures' penchant for good restaurants and breweries (of the yeasty and bean-y kind) are particular pleasures we are looking forward to experiencing.

If anyone knows of fun things to do, pretty places to see, and good things to eat/drink around the Redmond/Bend area, please leave a comment!

"life" is a many-splendored thing

2010-04-27T09:14:00.000-07:00

Bubbles are perfect spheres of wonder, fragility, and ephemerality. Floating, pushed by a quick breeze, bursting on a moments contact with any unforgiving surface, they are here again and gone the next. A quick blow, and little baby bubbles form. But with a seasoned and wizened long and slow breath, one may be gifted with a monster bubble, full and heavy with promise and grandeur. But what does Ellie care for all these musings of an old lady? She just likes the slippery stickiness of the soapy goodness.

EEEPPPIIIICCCC

2010-02-22T09:27:00.000-08:00

Recording in a room Madonna once stood and recorded in...

EEEPPPIIIICCCC.

2009-11-19T18:56:00.000-08:00

Everyone has a favorite movie they can watch a thousand times and never get tired. I remember watching mine for the first time in eighth grade, and it's just as good, if not better than that first time I watched it in the movie theaters (with Danielle and Madison) :). You know exactly what's going to happen, every line, every eyebrow movement has been imprinted into your memory like the lines in the back of your hand, but you still watch eagerly, with anticipation, for those moments and scenes that make it your favorite movie.

Each time you watch, there's something new, something you didn't catch before, but something clicks in your mind and it's like you've discovered a little golden nugget inside the dark corner of a treasure chest. Unexpected, though it was there the whole time; and even with all the other jewels already discovered within the movie, that extra little nugget adds a whole 'nother level of delight to your cinematic amore.

What's your favorite movie? It only really counts if you've seen it at least 10 times :).

115 and PROUD!

2009-10-27T19:35:00.000-07:00

You know what? I am freaking proud of myself. Yes, I do slip up sometimes... I had half a donut on Sunday and had 1/3 of a Big Mac and 1/2 a large-sized french fries at Mickey D's on the same night, but I set a goal for myself back in March, reached it by the end of September, and have been able to maintain it for almost a month now.

I was the heaviest I've ever been while I was abroad this past year, at 135 pounds. I know that for a lot of women, that's their dream goal; but for me it was a wake-up call. At 5'4", 135 lbs. is not exactly overweight, but it is definitely on the heavier side of my BMI (body mass index), and I was definitely starting to feel the effects on my body. I had less energy, my clothes didn't fit the same, and riding my bike started to become more work than it use to be.

I've always been semi-health-conscious, but I'd been letting go a lot, partially due to stress and minor depression. I would turn to food to "comfort" me when I was tired, or when I just wanted to "get away" from the worries of my day-to-day life... but instead I was just adding to my problems.

The crazy thing is, there are only GOOD things that happen when you lose weight. I'm definitely happier, more confident, and have more energy than I use to. The healthier I ate and the more water I drank every day, the less I craved the sweet, salty, buttery, carby, greasy fast-food and junk food that used to "comfort" me. I pushed myself during workouts, not exercising just to the point of breaking a sweat and calling it a day, but really challenging my body to go deeper, jump higher, don't stop, don't let go, just do it! And the crazy thing is, IT STARTED TO SHOW.

I've never seen my body do this before; it transformed right before my eyes. Every time I stepped on the scale, and I lost a pound or two, I'd look in the mirror and notice a hollow I'd never seen before. My jawline became more defined. My thighs started to shrink. WHAT THE FREAK?? YOU MEAN THIS DIET AND EXERCISE THING REALLY WORKS??? Each time the scale dropped a number, it was such a confidence boost, and gave me more motivation to keep working hard.

Sometimes the needle would creep back up, and I'd roll my eyes and quickly step down from the scale. The weird thing was, it never went as high as I'd expect. I'd step on the scale one day and think, "Oh man, it's gonna be a huge number and I'm going to be soooo disappointed in myself today". But then I'd look, and I'd only went up a few numbers. I never let it get me down, but just told myself, "It's a temporary set-back, but you can get it down again. Don't you worry."

When I finally reached 120 lbs., I ran to my parents to share the news and cried. I hadn't been 120 since my freshman year in college (six years ago)! I couldn't believe it; it was an incredible, amazing feeling. From there, each pound I lost felt like a major battle won in victory. When you watch "The Biggest Loser", the double digits are what the contestants look for, and anything below five pounds is not good enough. But for me, each single pound I lost was like winning the World Series, the Heismann Trophy, MVP of the NBA.

Finally, I have made my goal. I'm 115 lbs. strong, at the lower end of my BMI, and ready to face my next challenge: the L.A. Marathon. I'm not looking to lose anymore weight, but hoping to definitely lose some fat and strengthen my muscles. I haven't been 115 since high school! But my body feels just as good as it did when I was 17, if not BETTER.

I don't want people to read this and think that I'm all big-headed and arrogant, and just want to show off. Because telling other people, even my family, that I was 135 lbs. at one time in my life was probably one of the hardest things I've ever done. I'm just really proud of the journey I had to take to get where I am today, and wish that more people dear and close to me could come on it with me. I really love you all, and hope that someday I could read your blog about YOUR amazing health change!

I'm sorry. If you don't like self-righteous preaching on health, don't read this.

2009-10-23T13:59:00.000-07:00

When I tell people that I am training for the marathon, I get a wide range of responses, the first of which is surprise. Apparently, among my group of acquaintances, being fit and motivated to challenge yourself physically is not common or expected. I also find that some people are very excited for me; but that excitement doesn't always feel very genuine, because I can sense that often times there is a flicker of skepticism on their faces. When I see that (and people try their best to hide it), I sense that in their minds they're thinking, "This girl is crazy... who does she think she is? Does she really think she can finish?" I even feel that response from my family, which is not the most promising sign of the support I have in pursuing this goal.

I think the reason why people are so surprised, as well as disbelieving, that I'm running the marathon, is because most of them don't understand WHY I'm doing it. Most of them know that I try my best to be healthy and stay in shape, but they don't understand my motivation behind it all (because more often than not they themselves do not have it).

One of my biggest motivations is my mom. My mom is definitely not the most healthiest or most physically fit person I know; in fact, she is probably one of the least. She is not obese, nor even close to being overweight (She's 5'2", 110 lbs.), but her health has been on a rollercoaster ride for the past 10 years. In December of 1999, she was diagnosed with a sarcomal tumor associated with cancer, and had to have surgery in January 2000 to remove the tumor. Consequentially she had to have over 60% of her stomach removed. We thought the nightmare was over (though her recovery took almost a full year), until we were hit with another blow. In November 2005, my mom was once again diagnosed with GIST, another version of the same cancer, and is even today taking chemotheraphy to keep the cancer at bay.

My mom looks at me often and says, "Grace, you have to take care of yourself. Don't be sick like me. You have to be healthy, and watch what you eat. Don't take on stress like I did, but just LET IT GO." When I see her hurting sometimes, I just look at her and say, "I'm never going to be sick like you. I'm going to eat well and exercise and be healthy, because I don't ever want to be trapped to illness like you have been." My family saw my grandmother suffer from multiple strokes, deal with diabetes, and ultimately die a slow and painful death in a nursing home, unable to eat, talk, or get up from the bed for over 10 years. And she was barely over 60 when it all started.

There is so much we can do NOW when we are still young that can make a huge impact on our health 10, 20, even 50 years from now. I always say, it's so much easier to incorporate healthy habits into our lives and change the bad ones NOW in our teens and twenties, than to do it in our 40s and 50s, when we have less time and energy.

Another big motivating factor for me to take control of my health, is helping my dad out at his pharmacy. I don't do much while I'm there, but it is really shocking when people leave the store with 20+ prescription medications in hand for ONE PERSON. How do you let your life go so much that the only way to survive and live a day to day life is to pump 20+ chemicals into your body everyday? I just stand there in disbelief, and a mental war ensues in my head to fight and battle disease and unhealthy lifestyles.

But then I watch one of my favorite TV shows "The Biggest Loser", and I know that so many times people just don't or can't take care of themselves, because of their emotional and mental problems. I can distinctly remember Jillian (one of the trainers) asking one of the contestants during a workout, "Are you happy??"

"Yes, I'm happy."

"No, you're not happy!"

"Yes, I am happy!"

"No, you can't be happy and get to be this size at the same time!" At that moment, the contestant began to cry and Jillian really got to digging out his "heart issues".

There are a whole host of reasons (and excuses) why people aren't healthy. And I will let you have whatever excuses you may have, be it "I'm too busy, I don't have enough time", or "Gym memberships are too expensive", or "I don't like working out, it's not fun/easy/I'm too lazy", etc. etc. etc. But think about this: do you think all those people who ARE healthy and ARE eating well and ARE getting their exercise, do you think they aren't busy? Do you think they weigh the price of an annual gym membership versus buying that new plasma 42" widescreen TV that they will probably gain more weight off of sitting in front of it eating pizza? Do you think they LIKE working out 100% of the time? Yeah, think about that.

My last point is this. I think as a Christian, part of my walk with God involves treating my body as a "temple", where the Holy Spirit resides in, and keeping it pure and "set apart". And that includes not smoking or doing drugs (some people might include drinking alcohol, or getting tattoos, piercings, eating pork, what-have-you). But how many preachers have you seen who preach the message of treating your body as a temple in reference to health? Not many, because I think the majority of the time those same preachers are not the best at taking care of their own health. I think part of being a healthy Christian is being a healthy person in regards to your physical health, including not stuffing it with junk food and sugary soda (a bottle of soda can have up to 3/4 cups of sugar it it), and making sure that the body that was created in the image of my Creator is in prime condition. I want to be a witness to God not just through my words, but also through the choices I make in my life, and the first is in my physical body. If I can't take of the body God gave me, and be a good steward with the health he has blessed me with, how can He expect me to take care of the spiritual "body" that is my soul? I think taking care of both shows my thankfulness to God, as well as my love for Him. Your health and your body are each a "talent" God has bestowed upon us, to invest in and nurture, not to bury and ignore and let die.

All this to say, I am running the marathon, with or without the confident support of my family and friends. I am running for my health, mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual. I am running for my mom and my grandmother. I am running for God. And I am running for you, the reader, hoping that my stories and insights give you the motivation to take the first small step into a life of health, confidence, and joy.

My Favorite Things #3: Santa Monica

2009-10-09T10:16:00.001-07:00

3. I may be biased, seeing as it is my hometown, but what's not to love? Even our transients have their own smelly/crazy charm :)

"Oh Samohi, dear old Samohi, Queen of the setting Sun!"

My beloved city though somewhat of a trashy touristy spot in certain areas, holds an irresistible charm that can be found in the secret quiet places known only to locals and those who know where to look. My favorite thing about this city, is that though it is still considered somewhat a part of L.A., we are our own entity as a city, and even have a separate school district that is so competitive to get into, it drives real estate prices up. Santa Monica is relatively small; it stands at about a mere 10 square miles, with Pacific Palisades/Brentwood to our north, Venice to our south, West L.A. to our east, and the big wide Pacific Ocean to the west. And that is one of my favorite things about our city: it's a small town feel within the bigger picture of a larger metropolitan city.

Yeah, there are areas that feel more yuppie than cozy little village (Montana Ave., Main St., etc.), but there are those pockets of areas where you know that no where else in the world can you find a place like this (Palisades Park on Ocean between Colorado and San Vincente, the various British-style pubs you can find throughout the city, multiple farmers' markets that shut down streets throughout the week, etc.).

Another plus: During the summer, it's always ten degrees cooler in S.M. than L.A., and in the winter can sometimes have milder weather, because of the nearness of the ocean. We may have the marine layer at times, but it inevitably burns off by midday.

But most of all, its the place that holds the most memories of my life, and relatively good memories at that :) I think that's why most people, no matter if their hometown is a large city on the coast or a small town in the heartlands, get nostalgic when they think or talk about their hometowns; really, if you compared one city to another, you couldn't compare their benefits, because it's subjective to your own experiences. For instance, last night I was eating dinner at Sizzler with my parents and grandfather, but it brought back so many memories of coming to that exact restaurant and sitting in that same spot as a kid, and missing my grandmother and all that. You can find Sizzler in many other locations, and it's not that great of a restaurant anyways, but just the years of memories that location generated filled my mind and heart with a fondness that can't be replaced.

My Favorite Things #2: Coffeeshops

2009-10-08T11:58:00.000-07:00

2. I love coffeeshops. And I'm not talking about those cute, pretty ones with doilies on the chairs and Korean ballads playing on the sound system, I'm talking about the semi-dark ones with people smoking on the outside seating, and screenwriters/students/slackers taking up all the tables and wireless internet on the inside. And there needs to be a steady soundtrack of whirring espresso machines, people gabbing about inconsequential things, and jazzy/poppy music playing in the background, i.e. Norah Jones/Ella Fitzgerald/Jason Mraz (Who also happen to be some of my favorites :)).

I'm not a indie coffeeshop snob either. The convenient and universal Starbucks/Coffeebean work just as well as The Bridge Cafe/18th Street Cafe/Literati Cafe, as long as the staff are friendly and internet is free, and music is not too loud.

Sometimes the food at indie coffeeshops are the BEST you can find. Especially when it comes to breakfast/brunch items, like omlettes and pastries, or sandwiches and salads.

And for people-watchers like me, coffeeshops are one of the best places to do this, especially if you're sitting by a window, or outside on a patio; if your studying is getting a bit too much, or your eyes need a rest from the computer screen, or you hit a block while writing a report or paper, just take a second and watch people as they go about their everyday lives, oblivious to your silent contemplation on what they're wearing, what they're doing, who they're with. If you've never tried this, it's very eye-opening about the "human condition" of people today, and relieves your stress/tension in just a few minutes.

For example: I am at the Coffee Bean on the corner of Orange and Hollywood right now, right across from Madame Tussauds, and who do I see?

A tall, thin, bald man with glasses, a dark blue velvety blazer and faded blue jeans. He kind of slouches as he walks, and he's alone, and for some reason I know he's an artist. What kind, I don't know, but I can tell he's not a talker either. He pushes his glasses up with his right hand, and he looks slightly down as he does this, as if he's self-conscious, but immediately looks back up, to make sure he doesn't bump into anyone on the tourist-crowded sidewalks. He turns the corner, and he's no longer in my field of vision, but off to meet someone or take care of some business, or just simply take a midday stroll doing the same thing I'm doing right now: people-watching.

Yeah, it's kind of creepy, but I bet you've done this before too :)

My Favorite Things #1: Good Music

2009-10-07T23:09:00.000-07:00

1. I love good music. It can be anything from acoustic pop from the Midwest to bossa nova sung by a Portuguese-speaking Japanese girl to mad crazy lyrics laid down by hardcore bangers from Inglewood, but good music is what elevates sound from noise to living-beat-juice for your heart. I'm sure I will get down into detailed reviews of my favorite artists and albums in the future, but this MFT (My Favorite Things) will focus purely on the art form that is a defining and irreplaceable force in my life.

Music is everywhere for me; whether my laptop is playing iTunes, or the radio playing in my car, or my iPod blasting in my ears, or I'm walking in silence, but a soft whistle is blowing through my lips, my life has an inescapable soundtrack. Even the silence defines me, because the absence of music reveals a certain mental state that I may be in at that given moment.

Good music, like a good book, can immediately transport me from the present to somewhere more beautiful, peaceful, exciting, relaxing, dangerous, and exhilirating. It makes me believe that though the world is ugly and full of mean people who don't care, there is a chance for life and hope to exist. I want to live in that world, and music makes that world possible for me to live towards. "Thank you for the music, this song I'm singing..."

Thrift-Monster

2009-08-13T10:08:00.000-07:00

There is nothing like spending a free afternoon digging through the trash to find treasures in my neighborhood thrift shops. Thrift shopping was one of those things I'd get cravings for while I was abroad for the past two years, but with no way to alleviate. The overwhelming delight in finding a great pair of boots, lightly used, and in my size, is truly one-of-a-kind. I may have spent $115 in just one afternoon at one store, but the 11 darling items I found that will most likely last me the next ten years makes those precious dollars worth it. Three pairs of boots may seem excessive, and I could feel my conscience rebel against such extravagance, but how can you resist Entienne Aigner tan riding boots in my size, no scratches, and the soles already replaced for 15 freaking dollars??? I am sorely tempted to post pictures of my fantastic finds to brag what a few hours and discerning grazing can produce, but that does seem a bit narcissistic and show-offy, so I will try to refrain.

This is an open invitation: anyone that's interested in a thrift-shopping-spree is welcome to come with me! I have to admit, thrift shopping is not for everyone. There are people who will feel overwhelmed by the racks and racks of duds, and end up feeling too discouraged to really find anything of value and walk out after a pathetic hour with only an ugly belt they will never wear because it was only a dollar, and sucking in the fresh air outside because they were sick of the musty smell of used clothes inside. For me, its the thrill of digging out those great finds that makes the things mentioned above worth enduring, but be aware that you may not enjoy it or be as fruitful as I have been.

On an additional note, thrift stores almost always use their profits to benefit some worthy causes; Salvation Army is a Christian organization that has many community and rehabilitation programs; Goodwill is a non-profit that also does similar projects in community and rehab; Out of the Closet helps especially in AIDS programs, and is non-explicitly related to the LGBT community. Also, buying used is completely GREEN, in both the financial and ecological senses of the word. You save tons of money buying clothes for usually 25%-1% their retail value (Seven, Citizens, and R&R Jeans for 10 bucks, anyone???). And buying thrift is environmentally-friendly, because you're not buying new clothes that use up more resources (cotton/manufactured materials/factory emissions/transportation emissions/stores located in shopping malls that are energy-suckers). I am the first to admit that I am not the greenest person out there, I mean, I love my shopping malls and sales at Madewell, and going shopping with my mom when she's buying; but it's also good to be aware that for every thrift item I buy, it's one less thing I buy from a regular retail store, and decreasing my carbon-footprint on earth.

To "green" or Not to "green"...

2009-05-16T00:54:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite parts of living where I do now, is my main mode of transportation: my bike. The convenience, the extra bit of cardio I get everyday, the advantages during rush hour, and the self-righteous pleasure of knowing that I'm helping to save the planet one drop of liquid-global-warming at a time, are definite pluses to me. Thankfully, the city where I live is relatively flat, which helps when I ride my gear-less bike to and fro from my daily activities. And the motivation for riding your bike to help out the environment is easily maintained by the ability to see the haze of air pollution affect your vision as close as 500 feet... every day.

I am curious to see what it will be like when I return home, with the convenience of my sleek luxury vehicle only a garage-door opener's push away, and the commuter culture of my hometown to influence the everyday decision of how to get to school/work/store: foot, bike, public transportation, or car? I wonder how much the pressures of daily chores, familial expectations, inconvenience, and pure laziness will ultimately determine the fate of the new bike I plan to purchase upon my return to Los Angeles. Also, my usual adversion to the views of myself as a hipster cliche cringes with the proclivical prediction that others would assume that I was getting caught up in the "green" trend that seems to be sweeping across our ever-enlightened nation.

I don't want to let go of this bike-as-primary-mode-of-transportation lifestyle when I get back home, but I'm afraid of what life may throw in front of me to jam up my spokes and fizzle the air out of my tires... I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

(By the way, I have these daydreams of myself riding my bike early Saturday morning to the Virginia Ave. Farmers' Market, buying up some fresh organic veggies, and cruising back home with a full bike baskets' worth of oh-so-typical "green" goodies. I am so doomed.)

Bzzzz...

2009-02-24T19:00:00.000-08:00

4) The Secret Life of Bees

I just read this book a month ago, and thoroughly enjoyed it. I was really excited for the film version, and was not disappointed: the adaptation for the silver screen stayed for the most part true to the original novel. I've seen some criticisms for the film, that it was too slow-paced and therefore boring and unenjoyable, but I think in some way it was deliberately written that way by the writers to echo the slower pace of life during the summer months of the sweltering south. The acting was well done; May and June were exactly as I had imagined them, though I always imagined Rosaleen played by Jennifer Hudson as little more comelier than she appeared in the movie. Dakota Fanning is growing up, but she's still in that awkward pubescent age, and though she had her moments where she looked almost pretty, it will take a few more years for her to grow into her face and body. Other than that, she did a good job of portraying Lily, though I felt the Lily in the novel was a bit more "desperate" feeling than the Lily in the movie. Overall, a sweet, uplifting, sisterly-bonding type of film.

Quite Fitting, Actually

2009-02-23T17:10:00.000-08:00

3) Slumdog Millionaire

What can I say about a movie that just won eight monumental Oscars on Sunday night? Overall, it was a brilliant screenplay beautifully executed by an engaging cast and a visionary production/directing team. All to say, I don't think it was thaaaaat great. Yes, it was a good movie, and had some memorable moments. Kid jumping up and down covered in excrement with an Indian movie star's autograph in hand, anyone? Found out later on IMDb that the fake poo mix was made from chocolate and peanut butter... yum. I think possibly the answer to why this movie has been a critical as well as audience hit is because the competition has not been very fierce in the last year. Also, I think the appeal for specifically American audiences is the sheer novelty of the fierce juxtaposition of Americanistic affluence (I hesitate to use this type of imagery, with the States' current financial situation -_-;) apparent in the scenes on the "Who Wants to Be A Millionaire" set, and the drudgery of living and surviving as an orphan in the slums of India. I think this is globalism working in reverse, where the poverty of one nation begins to influence the ideas and thinking of another. Anyways, I'm starting to go off subject. This was a good film, but not worth the amount of attention and praise that it has garnered up to now.

By the way...

2009-02-22T21:27:00.000-08:00

It is your birthday.

THAT PARTY WAS THE BEST PARTY EVER. PLEASE MAKE ME A SIGN LIKE THAT ONE FOR MY BIRTHDAY PLEASE. I WILL LAUGH MY HEAD OFF IF YOU DO.

Ick and Orah.

2009-02-22T15:59:00.000-08:00

2) Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist

No surprise here, awesome soundtrack with less well-known indie underground (5 adj.) artists. Near the end of the movie, I realized I was watching the "16 Candles"/"She's All That" of the 2000's. It's cleverly hidden behind the exterior of an indie-feeling alternative teen movie in the mode of "Juno" and "Superbad"(Michael Cera's presence in all three films is duly noted), but these are all prime examples of what is clearly becoming the new 21st Century teenage flick. A little less fluffy (pun not intended), and a little more "underground"-feeling, but "Nick and Norah" still had the tricks more traditional teen movies most readily employ. For instance, the "pretend you're my boyfriend and kiss me oh wow we felt a nice connection there" plot line is easily identified in other types of teenaged romantic comedies. Others just as easily recognizable are the "jealous evil ex-girlfriend/beauty queen/diva", the "mini-makover" Norah receives in the van from a gay guy, the "gay guy" (but in this case a nice trio of them), and the "all-night driving around town doing crazy and ridiculous things, but having the time of their lives" themes. There are plenty more, but I'll leave it at that. I think you get my drift. Other than the generally predictable plot themes stated above that made this movie feel a little too prosaically familiar, it was a fun ride with some really interesting and funny supporting cast and characters. The most memorable characters for me were the drunk friend who picked her gum out of the nasty public toilet water (disturbingly reminiscent of "Trainspotting"), and the gay Asian friend played by Aaron Yoo (only because he's Asian, and any sort of representation in the entertainment business delights me). Oh, and the Yugo. Oh, how I desire one now. Oh, and getting to see the inside of "Electric Lady Studios". WOW MOM I'M PEEING MY PANTS RIGHT NOW THAT WAS SO TOTALLY AWESOME. The end.

Next up: "Slumdog Millionaire"

The Secret Life of the Hours' Slumdog Playlist

2009-02-22T08:41:00.000-08:00

I've seen some really good movies in the past few days, and feel the need to post about them.

1) The Hours

I was afraid this would be a slightly creepy moderately depressing movie about depression and suicide, and on the most part I was right. There was some incredible acting here, especially on Nicole Kidman's part, and according to the Academy as well (she won a Best Female Actor Award for her role). For some reason, though she looked less classically beautiful, I really really loved her with the prosthetic nose. It was strangely attractive, and I almost prefer her with it than without. I wish I had read Mrs. Dalloway before I watched the movie, but I'm kind of intimidated by it now. I was vaguely uncomfortable with the lesbianic themes throughout the film, but there weren't any graphic scenes, so I was able to stomach most of the kisses. I didn't understand the whole "water engulfing Julianne Moore's character in the hotel room" until the end, when I was reminded of how Virginia Woolf commited suicide. One pleasant surprise was Claire Danes' role (I'm kind of a fan), though it was small. After finishing the film, I recalled that Claire Danes and Meryl Streep were in "Evening" together, though they never shared any scenes. Overall, though I haven't read The Hours, I was convinced with the acting (effortlessly executed by seasoned professionals), intrigued by the stories and how they were interwoven with each other, and inspired by the simple beauty of the visuals of the film.

My reviews of the other films will follow soon.

Jeez, people, get a grip. :)

2009-02-09T06:29:00.000-08:00

Ok, here is what Robo commented after many confused speculations about what exactly had happened:

Robo Paik at 12:30pm February 9
lol
clarification time
i don't think they were aiming directly for grace but I have a feeling they were asked to leave or something along those lines, and so in retaliation they launched a brick into the restaurant which ended up hitting grace.

i ran after the guys, out of like animal instinct.
i caught up to them and one guy was just inanely (idiotically) just dropping the F-bomb on me left and right. They were both intoxicated and I realized punches could end up being thrown pretty easily and this wasn't high school where things would just end with a suspension. I approached the other less argumentative drunk and by this time I was feeling a mixture of fear and anger. My left leg was shaking and my right hand was curled up into a fist ready to catapult into the guys face.

I didn't know what I wanted from them but I realized an apology would be nice. By this time Jessica had followed me out, the cursing buffoon had squandered away and it was just one drunk me and jessica.

Robo Paik at 12:32pm February 9
so after a strange conversation in which the guy told me he thought the brick was a piece of bread, he apologized to jessica and me. the whole time he had his hand on my shoulder so i put mine on his as well. he apologized and I told him that I hoped he felt better. end of story.

In addendum, the pain was only momentary, and I don't hurt at all now. So thanks for your concern, but I'm okay! Jeez, people, get a grip. :) I love you too~ ^^

I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE DRUNK OR HIGH OR EVEN MENTALLY DISABLED, THAT'S JUST PLAIN WRONG.

2009-02-08T07:39:00.000-08:00

The most craziest surreal thing happened to me today...

I was minding my own business eating dinner with friends at Lush for Open Mic Night. There was a table in the corner with some loud drunk guys who started yelling at a girl that was with them, and we noticed that she left soon after that. We were a little bit leery of them, but decided that they weren't worth much more of our attention... boy were we wrong about that.

We were absorbed in our own conversation, and didn't really notice the guys getting up to leave, until I suddenly felt something heavy and rough hit me in my right shoulder blade. For some reason I immediately assumed that it was a chair falling on me (weird), but it turned out to be something a bit more malicious than that.

Before I could absorb what was happening, and rubbing my shoulder from that prickly-throbbing pain you get when someone's punched you a little bit harder than is friendly, Robo was up and out the door. Everyone else around me started asking me if I was okay, and for some reason I frantically looked around at the waitresses to see if they had noticed this injustice that had just been imposed upon me, still clueless to what exactly had happened.

Sally went into the corner where whatever missile had been launched upon this poor unsuspecting girl had fallen, and she came back with a dumbfounded look on her face and a broken piece of red brick larger than my fist in her hand. WTF??? WHO DOES THAT??? WHO THROWS A FREAKIN' BRICK AT SOMEONE YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW??? I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE DRUNK OR HIGH OR EVEN MENTALLY DISABLED, THAT'S JUST PLAIN WRONG.

Okay, I'm past it now. Whoever you are, I forgive you, just don't let it happen again, and get some rehab, because you obviously cannot behave like a normal, well-adjusted human being in polite society. The end.

"My hair-strewn memory lane.........."

2009-02-07T06:53:00.000-08:00

I contemplated today about keeping my short hair, instead of growing it out again as originally planned. It's virtually fool-proof and comfortable most of the time. My roommates have complimented me several times about the "cute"ness of my style.

But there are those times when I stare with longing almost to the point of weirdness at other girls' long tresses, and twist inside with envy. I sometimes miss looking and feeling "feminine", and it can be hard without long hair, mind you.

So goes my delight/deriding dislike of my now growing-out-of-the-summer-shortness-and-trying-hard-not-to-look-like-a-mullet* drudgery. *It's confusing and difficult to type with the hyphen key minus the space bar. But hyphen is my best friend. He loves to get between words to make a new awesome word, and allow me to be a word-creator, a literary-artiste, a painter-of-words, as you like.

Back to the mullet thing. You will love me for this: Here are some pictures from a distant past that features a Little Grace with magnificent early '90s mullet hair, using the totally fantasmic software I recently stumbled upon in another blogger's website, Poladroid:

The first isn't so bad, my hair was longer and the short part of the hair basically just looks like bangs that extend a little wider around the front of the head than usual.

The next is embarrassingly bad, not only for the squinty eyes and the bushy bed-head hair, but for the faux shell necklaces and the daisy-print neon green shorts I lived in for two years. Forget the Grand Canyon. Here's a synthesized wonder that doesn't take a billion years of water and wind to create: take a scratchy blue polyester back seat in a 1990 Dodge Caravan, two weeks of driving around the American Southwest, and a truly disgusting haircut, and you have a classic picture that perfectly contrasts the rugged beauty of the rusty cliffs of the Grand Canyon with the offending neon-artifice of the 1990s with the naiivete of two young girls who won't be able to appreciate or absorb the mind-twisting grandness (pun intended) of the scenery behind them.

I hope you enjoyed yourself, because I certainly did, taking a walk down my hair-strewn memory lane.......

Sparks

2009-02-03T04:42:00.000-08:00

I woke up this morning to the sound of our front door squeaking open: My roommates are home! I was bleary-eyed, smelly, and messy-haired, but I gave them all huge hugs of welcome. Home seems like home, now that the sounds of other people in the house fill the silent corners of my formerly single-membered residence.

I spent most of the day rearranging, reorganizing, and cleaning out my new private bedroom. I had Bridget Jones' Diary and Edge of Reason playing in the background throughout the day, and revisited my old friends Bridge, Mark, and Daniel. There's something very appealing about a frumpy chubby Texan-with-a-British-accent who wins the heart of not only one above-average attractive Brit, but two, and double that one more time, with the sequel.

Ate lunch at a neighborhood favorite, what we like to call the "Muslim" restaurant with the roomies, and talked about their backpacking trip through Malaysia. They came back rosy from the sun and weary-eyed from their red-eye flight.

Did some yoga in the afternoon, and was reminded of my extreme lack of balance and flexibility, and a bit turned off by the vibrating humming of a man chanting throughout the soundtrack of the DVD. Makes me feel weird. Hopefully by summertime, I'll be able to do one of those poses without my back leg trembling like crazy (what's up with that??) and making my leg flex as straightly as the oddly masculine-yet-femininely attractive lady on the DVD.

I'm trying to be healthy with all the free time on my hands these days, so I've started tracking my calories and physical activity throughout the day. Most of the time these kinds of things don't last for me, but my goal is at least two weeks, for now. Yesterday was a whopping 2,487 calories (it might have something to do with the Dairy Queen Oreo Blizzard I had while waiting at the theater for Australia -_-;;), but I kind of made up for it with my 1,584 calorie food count today.

Tomorrow is our first team meeting in like, FOREVER, so it will be weird-awkward-good to see everyone all together again. I kind of wasted a lot of time doing nothing productive since I've been back, so I'm kinda nervous about seeing everyone else and 'fessing up to the fact.

Oh well, here goes.

Bright Skies, Lasting Stars

2009-01-07T20:24:00.000-08:00

"And those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky above; and those who turn many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever."

-Daniel