Mar 29, 2016
So believe it or not, I write a lot. I have a lot of pointless notes on my phone (hey, did you know you can now password-protect them with the new iOS update? Welcome to 2016!) but before that I used to be that chick at a coffee shop with a Moleskine knockoff (because let's be real when will I ever be able to afford a $16 notebook) furiously writing down my thoughts and life goals. But now I just have my phone and type furiously as if I'm texting someone and not look like a total loser. So everybody wins. I also write a lot on the subway now because I have no LTE, like, 90% of the time (thanks AT&T) so I write while I have Taylor Swift on loop (because that's the only thing I can listen to offline). It's a lot of unpleasant stuff, as you can imagine.
Anyway, on some weeknights, I like to drink a glass or two of wine and write about stuff that comes to mind at the moment - life, relationships, job sitch, life, food, that cute dog I met on the street, rants, dreams, etc. Like tonight. Since two weeks ago I swore off eating heavy dinners since I'm apparently preparing for a half-marathon so I'm pretty much tipsy after one glass of wine...and why not take advantage of yourself?
WDED stands for write drunk edit drunk. Any time I decide to feed myself wine on a weeknight while I'm roasting sweet potatoes for lunch the next day and looking up House of Cards spoilers, I will also make some time going through stuff I wrote when I was tipsy and edit and share them. This is going to be really weird because I rant/obsess over the most random things: stuff ranging from a two-page rant about stupid Americans protesting Syrian refugees to how I should appreciate sunsets more (??? yeah i don't know...)
Anyway, maybe I'll make this a regular. Maybe I won't. Whatever. But treat this like my raw, unpolished thoughts that were floating around in my head, or more like swimming around way too fast from the bottle of 2014 Perlita Malbec-Syrah blend from Argentina.
Maybe it’s not about making a name for yourself or about trying to leave a meaningful legacy behind. I think I do what I do because I’m pursuing to find out my limits and what I’m really good at. I want to know what it is that I would be insanely love with and serve “my purpose” in life or whatever. I want to continue my journey to "find" myself, but I also want to be able to love others selflessly... Do those things go hand in hand? Would my future children hate me if I go back to work right after I pop them out? Or would I be happy being one of those childless, forever alone but super ambitious, important hotshit married to my career? I literally have no idea. For now, I'm doing what I know and can. But a lot of times it scares me, because I should know what I want -- exactly -- but I don't. And these decisions you make in your 20s are so incredibly important, sets a tone for the rest of your life, but nobody warns you so. Or maybe they did and I missed the lecture. But I guess what I do know is to ask yourself this question: What do you love the most, and what gets you going? What makes you feel like a human, like make your heart do its work? And also, who cares what everyone else thinks. It's your life at the end of the day.
Mar 25, 2016
^ friday night mooooood. h/t my sis
I remember when I was in Korea this time last year, I hung out with one of my many cousins who took me hiking around Seoul. I feel like Seoul can be sort of comparable to New York, where any hint of 'nature' you find is backdropped with the city. Still, we saw little beautiful signs of spring popping up here and there. While I was gawking at flowers and blooming trees, my cousin told me something that's got me thinking for awhile: she said she always gets most depressed in the spring. Why? Because she feels excluded, left out, lonelier when everything seems to be finding life and moving on and doing great, basically. Damn. At first I didn't say much because I couldn't quite understand, but a year later, here in New York, I'm beginning to understand what she could have meant. Because like I said, Seoul is kind of comparable to New York in a sense where you feel like you can't catch a break. Ever. You're always surrounded by people, you find yourself exchanging unpleasantaries with strangers for no good reason and everyone is always going somewhere at full speed - literally and figuratively. Winter was a time I didn't feel like a complete loser if I stayed home and did nothing on weeknights. But now that the sidewalk traffic has quadrupled and I'm always side by side with strangers and tourists having the time of their lives, enjoying the city to the core, all that giddiness of spring kind of gnaws at me. Anyway. It doesn't hurt to set your own pace and live your life the way you're comfortable with. I needed some time and space and peace to actually enjoy spring...and just to chew on stuff, so I've been going to Central Park a lot. Sometimes I run, sometimes I just go there with my camera (and creep on strangers).
Of course I miss DC in springtime. It's really the best. Nothing beats it. It didn't even have to be near the tidal basin - around my apartment in Arlington, at the bus stop, on random streets in the city - the cherry flurries were everywhere and it smelled good. All of its beauty was so heartwrenching because who knew you could love a specific time and place so much?
In the past 25 years of my life, I've moved fiiive times. Five. That's not even including me moving from Philly to Korea when I was 7 months old. I'm starting to realize there hasn't been a time it didn't hurt. But it's also been really exciting. It's definitely painful every time but you eventually find a way to make yourself a new home. At least I did. Anyway, I'm missing the dmv a lot tonight - or more like this week, with the onset of spring and glimpses of cherry blossoms. I miss Arlington and all the memories and the way they made me feel. But it's not too shabby here either. After all, it's only the beginning of the season...(yes yes it was 35 degrees yesterday)