Duh

This should probably have been self-evident, but toasting up bread crumbs in some butter smells...well, like toast.  Indication that I do not cook nearly enough emdub food? :)

On tonight's menu: tuna noodle casserole.  I have a weird craving for it.  My gomo (auntie on my dad's side) used to make it since my mom only makes Korean food.

My Funny Hunny

After almost 7 years together, K still never fails to make me laugh and smile.  He just had his wisdom teeth removed and as he was being put under by anesthesia, apparently told the doctor that we want to go to Siberia for our honeymoon so we can ride on the trans-Siberian railway.  First, I've never even heard of the trans-Siberian railway before this, although Google and Wikipedia tell me that it does, in fact, exist.  Second, we have a long list of places we want to go, and a sub-list of places we want to go before having children, but Siberia is not on that list...but Russia (Moscow, St. Petersburg) is.  Apparently, he also groused and complained at the "no working out until the post-op visit in 10 days" so much that all the nurses thought he was hilarious for wanting to exercise so bad.  When they finally let me go back to help him into the car, the nurses all told me they thought he was a hoot!

The Randomness of My Life

In my lifetime, a number of very strange, bizarre, and kooky things have happened to me, but this may take the cake.  A couple of months ago, I bought a Buywithme deal for car detailing from an eco-friendly, mobile service.  The structure where I park for work would not allow the mobile detailer to clean my car from the parking garage so I switched cars with K for the day and they spiffy'ed up my car at his work parking lot.  He kept calling me through the day to give me updates on my car.  After they finished up my car, K called me to consult how much to give as a tip and to tell me that they did a great job with the clay bar on the paint.

He also told me this:

• K: "They found an ET in your car."
• Me: "A what?"
• K: "An ET.  A little one."
• Me: "What?!  An alien in my car?"
• K: "No, a little plastic guy.  What was he doing in your car?"
• Me: [utterly bewildered] "What do you mean, they found an ET?"
• K: [gasp of exasperation] "I'll bring him home tonight to show you, but it's a little plastic figurine of ET!"

And there it was.  A tiny plastic ET...exactly as K had described it to me.  I have never seen it before, nor do I know how or why it was wedged in the upholstery of my car.  Before we moved out of our old place, I carefully hid the ET in a little nook of our closet so someone else can have a random moment!

Carpe Diem!

To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time
     by Robert Herrick

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
     Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
     To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
     The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
     And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
     When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
     Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,
     And while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
     You may for ever tarry.




I love this poem.  Seize the day!  Grab life by the balls!  Live like there's no tomorrow!  Call it what you will...at this past Women of Color in Law, Inc. luncheon, the fabulous & spunky Beth Kransberger (Dean of Student Affairs at TJSL) reminded us to be good to ourselves and good to others...after all, we're among the upper echelon of those blessed with health, education, and opportunity.  That is awesome advice --- to live each day with purpose.

I am such a sucker

The other night I bought a heinously overpriced box of gummy bears in the parking lot of Target. Two young boys, maybe 11 or 12 years old, approached me with friendly smiles. Each of them lugged a duffel bag, aged to two varying shades of worn out gray. "Hello, Miss may I just have a minute of your time?" I tried to ignore the polite greeting and go my own way, but I detected a note of desperation in this kid's voice that reminded me of my own youth and the traces of desperation that would escape my lips as I trudged around with my own little sack containing magazines, Girl Scout cookies, and useless trinkets to peddle for various fundraising purposes. I sighed and stopped to listen as the kid rattled off his list of sweet treats, hazelnut brittle, chocolate chip cookies, gummy bears, and green-tea-with-antioxidants-good-for-the-health (this kid was good!) I then remembered just how much I dreaded the times of year when our troop or classroom would gear up for the annual ___-sale fundraiser since I was almost certain to end up with the least amount of sales. I could only buy so much for myself using my small allowance and the notion of buying fundraising goodies was somewhat bizarre my Korean relatives who did not really have a taste for American sweets or periodicals; and even though my parents owned their own restaurant, they couldn't really hock my wares because well, my parents are immigrants and they were always busy running the show. And so every now and then, when my desire to not-be-last would overtake my childhood shyness, I would opt for the door to door route and feel bitter that my parents did not work in offices with many cubicles filled with co-workers bursting at the seams to buy one another's unnecessary items. Feel bitter when I should have felt grateful that my parents worked all day, every day. So there I was, in the parking lot at Target, lost in a reverie of youth and holding a $7 box of gummy bears.

Aging with Grace

Why are so many women afraid to allow themselves to age naturally? Today I saw this article about Kim Cattrall's refusal to get plastic surgery for a more youthful appearance. In her own words, she'd rather look like a beautiful older woman rather than The Joker...no offense, Heath Ledger, RIP, or Jack Nicholson. She's gorgeous at 52 and if I were a man (or a lesbian, I guess), her confident, fearless attitude toward aging would make her even more attractive! While we're at it, Diane Lane is also absolutely beautiful and I love her outlook on it all; she is all the more beautiful because she is not scared of some stinking crows feet, which by the way, happen to all people! Her hubby, Josh Brolin--aka, Brandon Walsh of 'The Goonies' fame, and as of late 'The Dubya'--is lucky to be with her.

I find both of them to be preferrable to pretty much every single person featured on Awful Plastic Surgery (which was one of my favorite guilty past time blogs in law school...hey word twist can only keep you occupied for so long in an hour and fifty minute long Wills lecture...)

Granted, I am only in my late 20s (and Asian), but I think aging is a blessing! I am thankful for each day that passes by.

Coping in the Digital Era

'Twas the summer of '07. My first real taste at law firm life, another summer away from the significant other, and the time when I realized that as much as I love the Arizona desert, it had ceased feeling like home to me years before. It was also the first time in my extremely blessed life that I had to deal with the passing of a friend (my sorority Sister) and understand death and loss in the 21st century.

It was Friday night and I was elated to be back in San Diego for the weekend to see my significant other, K. On the nice breezy drive from the airport to his house, I got the text message: "ARP was in a car accident, it's pretty bad." A couple hours later, another ominous message: "There's very little brain activity, she might not make it until the morning." Odd as it sounds, my first inclination was to jump on Facebook and Myspace. No news of a horrific car accident...it couldn't be true, could it? I held on to the rather naive belief to get myself to bed that night that if it was not broadcast on the virtual world, maybe it was a mistake...a gross exaggeration...

ARP and I had not been all that close. She pledged into the sorority after I already graduated and I could probably count the number of times we met in person on one hand. Still though, in my memory, she was beautiful, smart, funny, spunky, and committed to God, her family, and her Sisters. How could someone this amazing and talented be taken at such a young age?

By the next day, mid-morning, she was gone. This time, her Facebook and Myspace were already filled with tributes to ARP and how she had touched so many lives with her kindness, zest for life, and nonjudgmental willingness to accept people. I couldn't find the words to leave my own tribute, so I took the passive aggressive approach to virtual coping; I hugged her using Facebook's SuperPoke application.

Within a couple of days, a Facebook group created to honor her memory and disseminate information about her memorial service already had over 500 members. The service itself was a testament to the fact that with her genuine niceness, ARP had left a profound impression on most everyone who had the privilege to encounter her. There were hundreds of people that day, clad in orange t-shirts and blue jeans, standing under the hot oven-like rays of the Arizona sun, waiting for the chance to pay our respects and wish her a fond good-bye. Even in her passing, she had the ability to bring people together—to laugh, to tell stupid jokes, to cry, to weep, to mourn, and to be thankful for meaningful relationships.

Over the last two years, her pages still fill up with messages to let her know that her presence and impact are still very real. Maybe it’s because it’s a tangible way to feel close to her once again, to communicate our thoughts and feelings to her in a way that feels real…that she’s gone but not forgotten? Or maybe it’s just to let her know, ARP, you’re missed.