"Can you meet me halfway, right at the borderline?"
April 1, 2011 § 2 Comments
When I bought the domain name for this blog a couple months ago, I was pretty excited to give it a major facelift, which included, among other things, consistent material (text implants? entry-o-plasty?). Each month it seems, I put “write more” on my to-do list, but ultimately neglect the bold underlines until the following month, where the inevitable cycle continues.
In my defense, I am strongly opposed to posting entries for the sake of posting entries – this blog is not a tumblr (take no offense tumblrettes, I love you dearly), not an outlet for random and impulsive posting of photos and videos, or mundane updates about my lack of clean underwear and ideas for dinner (that’s what Twitter is for). This has always been, and I hope it continues to be, the blog of a writer, which means you’ll be reading more words than viewing pretty pictures. And my philosophy is, if you’re going to take the time to be reading something, I hope it’s something worth your while, rather than some unfocused, self-indulgent babble. If I’m asking you to read my words, I want them to be coherent, thoughtful, and relevant (more or less). Otherwise, I’m just being a selfish asshole.
The problem is, I am insanely critical of my own writing; I will write 6 pages and delete 4, add 2 more pages, and then decide to scrap the piece altogether. At the rate I am going, I will never finish a manuscript for a book, let alone a brochure. These insatiable standards can be a strong motivator because they make me want to continue to grow and learn, but they can also be a debilitating when it comes to finding something passable to post. Currently, there are 34 open (unfinished) entries in progress, for any combination of reasons including A) it’s crap, B) it’s crap, C) oh hey, it’s crap. The ideas are there… but the execution is piss-poor at best.
Also contributing to the lack of entries is the ever-so-popular excuse of “I have no time!” My job takes up a significant amount of my day, that’s true… but if I really wanted to, I could find the hour or two each night to practice what I preach (even if it means all I’m doing is staring at some words for an hour with my mouth hanging open). The truth is, by the time I walk through the door, take off my pants, and plop down on the couch, all I do is look through a dozen other blogs that aren’t mine, seething with envy at the sophistication of their lifestyles.
I am planning to try some different things (bisexuality? ecstasy? mayonnaise?) in hopes of posting more content without sacrificing quality. I am still in the process (a slow, neglected, often abandoned process) of trying to figure out what and how I want this blog to shape up. But above all else, I need to stop making excuses about the lack of time and/or being too tired. I’ve given up trying to freeze time with my mind and this crap isn’t gonna write itself.
Please be patient. It may or may not be worth your while.
"Suppose I kept on singing love songs, just to break my own fall"
February 9, 2011 § Leave a comment
You know what people like? Cheesy shit. Romantic shit. That OMG-this-makes-me-want-to-barf-out-of-my-eyesballs-but-I-secretly-wish-it-was-my-shit shit. Then enters Valentine’s Day, taking this vomit-inducing behavior to an entirely new level of queasiness. You can’t take four steps in a single direction right now without seeing a barrage of pink and red, hearts and cupids, chocolates and roses, and oversized novelty stuffed animals. And there’s really nothing wrong with that. There are people who really love this over-commercialized holiday. There’s nothing wrong with being in love with love. But there’s also nothing wrong with boycotting the holiday completely, only looking forward to the day after, when all that candy is on sale for half off.
February 14th may seem like a discriminatory holiday, reserved for the lovers, the romantics, the grade schoolers. But what I’ve come to realize is that this date isn’t exclusive to those having a sweaty hand to hold, googily eyes to stare at, or disgusting pet names to shamelessly share. I know plenty of couples that roll their eyes at the holiday’s hoopla. I also know plenty of single friends who spend it together, sharing a different, but equally fulfilling kind of love.
And personally, I think Valentines is a bit overrated. A holiday shouldn’t be a prerequisite to showing affection. Why not surprise someone on an ordinary day? Why not some “Hey, it’s Thursday!” chocolates, or “Congrats on paying your bills on time!” tulips, or a “You didn’t hit anyone with your car today, here’s a bracelet!” Why do the “meaningful gifts” have to be designated to a specific day? Why not celebrate the smallest victories, the every day life?
And what’s with the passive-aggressive pressure to find the all-elusive perfect gift? What ever happened to the homemade macaroni noodle card? Or a poem? (Roses are red, violets are blue, I’ve gained 10 pounds, since I started dating you.) Before you panic and scourge the mall for a piece of jewelry that she’ll then pretend to like, consider simplifying things.* Unless you’re dating a superficial dipshit, most girls just want to know you care.
A mixtape is an underrated, fading art form. Any idiot with a basic knowledge of iTunes can create a playlist packed with song titles with love in the title. The key to a great mixed tape is finding meaningful songs (as endearing as “honey got some boobies like wow, oh wow” sounds, it lack a certain eloquence). Ideally, you should have no problem coming up with the songs to best describe and dedicate to your lovely lady, but for the time-crunched or lyrically challenged, here’s a few ideas to help you get started.
“Won’t ya kiss me on that that midnight street, sweep me off my feet, singin’ ain’t this life so sweet?” – David Gray, “This Year’s Love”
Perfect For: The beginning of a relationship when you allow yourself to be super naïve.
Bottom Line: We all know how it is in that first stage of a relationship – you want to believe in all the possibilities, be around each other all day and night, and obsessively tweet about how amazing life is. Also, you still sneak off into your closet to let out a fart during a movie rental night on your couch (No? Is that just me?). It’s healthy to be optimistic. I just wouldn’t start designing wedding invites quite yet.
Related: “Love Is You” – Chrisette Michele (“Well, love must be a drug to make me feel this way”)
“Cause I’ve learned in the past, that love will never do without you” – Janet Jackson, “Love Will Never Do (Without You)”
Perfect For: Romantics. Queso lovers.
Bottom Line: Get that? Love itself ceases to function without you, yo.
Related: “She Is Love” – Parachute (“They call her love, love, love, love, love”)
“I got faith in you and I, so put your pretty little hand in mine” – Miguel, “Sure Thing”
Perfect For: Swoon effect (also known as the ultimate cheese). Middle school romances.
Bottom Line: There’s a reason why so many of us girls went through a boyband phase: because those dudes gave us our first glimpse (albeit, disillusioned) of true love. Also, there is not a female on this planet who doesn’t like being told how amazing she is (we’ll just deny, deny, deny). We never outgrow that. Like, ever.
Related: “This I Promise You – NSYNC (“I’ve loved you forever, in lifetimes before”), “Just the Way You Are” – Bruno Mars (“Her laugh, her laugh, she hates but I think it’s so sexy”)
“And it’s sick that all these battles are what keeps me satisfied” – Skylar Grey, “Love the Way You Lie”
Perfect For: Dysfunctional relationships. Masochists.
Bottom Line: If songs like this resonate best/most with you regarding your current relationship, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that you can probably do better.
Related: “Not Myself” – Amos Lee (“Does anybody have a clue? How hard I’ve worked at loving you?”),“Gravity” – Sara Bareilles (“You loved me ‘cause I’m fragile, when I thought that I was strong”), “Slow Dancing In a Burning Room” – John Mayer (“Go cry about it, why don’t you?”)
{WTF, not a single copy of this Garth Brooks song is available for embedding. What is the substitute? An asston of covers that I’d rather avoid shuffling through. Sorry}
“She’s sun and rain, she’s fire and ice. A little crazy, but it’s nice” – Garth Brooks, “She’s Every Woman”
Perfect For: Every female that ever existed. Also, the bipolar.
Bottom Line: Listen guys, we know we’re more than a little nutty sometimes. Even the most rational, level-headed, seemingly well-adjusted get off-balance sometimes, so bless your confused little hearts for being patient enough to tolerate it. We appreciate it more than we’ll ever dare to admit.
Related: “Beautiful Mess” – Jason Mraz (“Your style is quite selective, but your mind is rather reckless”)
“A man needs something he can hold onto, a nine-pound hammer or a woman like you” – Ray LaMontagne, “Jolene”
Perfect For: The wanderers, the commit-a-phobes and those seeking refuge in the arms of another. Also, those with substance abuse issues.
Bottom Line: This dude can’t get his ish together (for crying out loud, he’s waking up from a drunken knock-out, with his face all busted), despite the fact that there’s this woman who’s obviously doing all sorts of things to keep his soul intact. But imagine that kind of love – the kind of love that anchors someone, keeping his sanity, keeping the slightest glimmer of hope, keeping him from going over the edge completely. I have plenty of anchors like that (see: Moon family), but I’d like to be someone else’s anchor, someone’s nine-pound hammer someday. So get it together man – clean yourself up and go home – there’s a woman who loves you.
Related: “Better Man” – James Morrison (“Well, I needed shelter from the storm I was in”), “She’s Got a Way” – Billy Joel (“She’s got a smile that heals me”)
Don’t underestimate the power of the mixtape. The cheese is less potent when it’s in ballad form. Let the lyrics help you communicate the words that are difficult to vocalize.
Bonus points for accommodating choreography and subsequent performance(s).
*Uh, it’s not like I would turn away any gifts (I like shiny things). I am, after all, a chick (for the most part).
"Leave all your love and loving behind"
January 17, 2011 § 3 Comments
Is the third Monday of the month too late for a 2010 recap entry (see 2009’s review here)? Ah, well, blame it on the new zodiac sign. It was a semi-sweet year – full of some deep-shit soul searching, weight gain, sleepless nights, the laziest of lazy summer days, another cross-country road trip, weight loss, anxiety attacks about my future, and subsequent weight gain. I learned that, despite my best efforts, I do not have my shit together, and that I am a bigger mess than I had feared. I also learned that the world does not end when you throw away your lifelong plans, that you can always find a way out and start over, but only if you want to. Other things I’ve learned?
1. Apologies are meaningless if you continue to make the same mistakes.
2. The eating habits you acquire in college will be harder to break than you think. I was spoiled living at home, with my Omma’s delicious cooking, non-plastic utensils, and lack of foods involving the microwave. The day I returned to Seattle, I was back to eating dry cereal out of the box and buying Cup Noodles in bulk.
3. Irregularity. What a shitty problem to have.
4. One of the best things about returning to Seattle? Return of the late night happy hour. New favorites? Barrio and Nijos.
5. Must keep an active reminder that my current lifestyle (i.e., work) does not allow for the capacity of a puppy. I can hardly manage to take care of myself. I am not responsible enough for a puppy. Even one with a face like this:
6. I admit I can be temperamental psycho. But it doesn’t stop me now, does it?
7. People who love and care for you will continue to do so, despite your worst qualities and your most disastrous mistakes. These are the people who will tolerate your oddest quirks. They are the ones who will remain patient and supportive as you get your shit together. They are the ones who will remind you not to walk out of the house with toothpaste on the side of your face. And they will do so free of asterisks and expectations of reciprocation.
8. Is there no hope for any of us?
9. I am maniacally protective over my friends and loved ones (I would use a metaphor involving a mama grizzly, but some moron already did that). No one is ever good enough. And I will come after you if you screw any of them over. A meat cleaver will be involved.
10. Jewel was right. In the end, only kindness matters.
11. Often times, the most pragmatic choices make the least sense. Sometimes, even the promise of a cushy life isn’t enough to calm the protests of the soul. It took me 20-something years, thousands of dollars in tuition, and literal blood, sweat, and tears (and occasional vomit – thanks Harborview ER!) for me to realize that I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life living a façade. When you start hating yourself more than your job, then it’s time for a change. I’m doing just that.
12. Costco: where practicality and romance come together.
13. Family. We’re a good type of dysfunctional. I think.
14. Sometimes, your friends will know you better than you know yourself. When I announced that I would not pursue a medical career, and instead, attempt to become a writer, the overwhelming response was not “whaaaaaaat?”, but instead, “I knew it!”. It’s an incredible feeling to know your ambitions are recognized and supported.
15. People are rarely hopeless. They are merely difficult.
“May your days be merry and bright”
December 24, 2010 § Leave a comment
Lately, I’ve been so busy that I’m lucky to find time to wash my hair (like that’s really my excuse). Between work and a new boy, it’s difficult to find the energy to make plans, let alone follow through on them. By weekend come, we find ourselves choosing desperately-needed sleep above anything else, forfeiting all the cute date things new couples are supposed to be doing.
I’ve been neglecting a lot of things, like exercise, balanced meals, and proper hair hygiene. It’s becoming increasingly more difficult to finish a book, and once important goals, like more frequent posts on this blog, have been placed on the back burner. I only talk to my family once a day now (and on some days, only through email – aghast!), and there are three, four-day stretches where the dishes in the sink go untouched. I’m powering though eye cream, wearing a lot of hats, and spending more money eating at Whole Foods than my wallet really wants to allow.
And I thought that by giving up the medical school student life meant that my days of being sleep deprived and completely void of a social life were over – but here I am, with zero invites to weekend festivities, and having people constantly tell me I look like crap (via “you look really tired”). It often seems that the only difference between the life I’m living now, and the life I thought I’d have, is the absence of those powder blue scrubs.
But just before I launch into a full on rant about how miserable I am, I am reminded of how I’m not – because despite the long hours logged in at work, I feel more at home, more comfortable in my own skin, than I ever did roaming the hospital hallways. Am I doing something I always dreamed of? No. Am I at my dream job? Absolutely not. But I feel more at peace with who I am, and who I’m becoming, and that’s enough to keep me here.
I flew home just a few days ago, only to spend the entire day at the dining table, telecommuting with work, maniacally trying to meet all the deadlines and due dates before I could really start my “vacation”. I would be ferociously typing away on my keyboard, when I’d be interrupted by an occasional shriek from Honie, never-ending series of delicious smells from the kitchen, and my mom scolding my dad on his latest home improvement endeavor. And I had to stop, take a moment to pause and soak in the life that was being breathed through this house. Despite the heater refusing to function (wtf Florida, it’s 55 here? you can’t even get your weather right), this house is filled to brims with warmth. I had forgotten what it’s like to be here, surrounded by these people who are my world. But with one round of Korean profanities echoing through the rooms, I was back. And it’s like I had never left at all.
I’m not exaggerating when I say that I speak to a member of my family at least once a day. Our conversations are often mundane in nature, and short in duration. More often than not, it’s my mom who’s reminding me to pay my bills and eat more regularly. But a day without some form of communication (we’ve also now resorted to texts), I begin to worry. But despite the fact that we talk so regularly, I am reminded of how lucky I am to be part of this family. And more importantly, how lucky I am to be here, to have my life, to be doing what I do, filled with an endless supply of unconditional love.
I honestly don’t know what it is about the holiday season that makes people pause for reflection. But as I take this time to ruminate about everything that’s happened this year – and my god, a lot has happened – I am flabbergasted at the change in my perspective. When I spoke about change and growth, I never expected this much so soon.
But I am happy. It’s an odd revelation when you admit that about yourself, but one that I don’t want to question, for the fear of scaring it away. I am grateful for so much – my family (which goes without saying), for the boy who is turning me into a lovesick teenager (so dangerously close to doodling our initials in hearts in my notebook), and for this job that’s inadvertently allowing me to realize what I really want to do.
I spend too much time (ironically) in Seattle focused on the lack of time and energy in my every day life, to actually take the moment to appreciate the fact I’m living. It wasn’t until my return home for the holidays that I allowed myself to. It wasn’t until Ki came home today (we stood outside waiting for his car to appear), having each member of this family accounted for (for the first time in months), that I looked around the kitchen (this kitchen that can accommodate more than just two people), and was prompted to come to my enlightened state of mind. I’m hoping to take a little piece of this with me back to Seattle, so that I can prolong this feeling (in the movies, this could be easily remedied with a meaningful snow globe).
I hope you’re all spending this time with the people who make you feel the same way as I do now. And remember, some things don’t have to be seasonal.
Merry Christmas.
"I love you more than songs can say"
November 30, 2010 § Leave a comment
I accidentally hit the “Name” tab in my iTunes the other day, organizing all my music in alphabetical order by song title. It never occurred to me how many versions of the same song I had in my library, but as I scanned the list, there were indeed, quite a few. Some I hadn’t heard in played in recent memory, but there were others, that by judging by the play count, were obvious perennial favorites.
And I know plenty of music snobs, people who swear and die by the originals, never wanting to give covers a shot. And while there are plenty of misfires, versions that make a complete mockery of its predecessors (GTFO Mariah Carey with “I Wanna Know What Love Is”), I think it’s foolish to block your ears to adaptations that give a different spin on a classic. Great songs will stand the test of time (and the dreaded auto-tune). Great lyrics will remain meaningful and relevant, even if it jumps genres and decades. And for the current, desperately-yet-ironically-seeking-originality generation, contemporary covers and remixes may be the only way to introduce the “good stuff”, or the stuff that hasn’t been tainted by over-stylization and the rap industry.
Some of my favorites:
1. Adele, Garth Brooks “To Make You Feel My Love”
Thanks to Bob Dylan, only a song this beautiful could remain consistent when sung by two distinct voices, one being a modern day Etta James (Remember in Little Mermaid, when Ursula captures Ariel’s voice in a conch shell and wears it around her neck? Yeah, I’d like to do that to Adele’s), and the other being a country superstar. I love both versions with equal affinity, and remains one of the few love songs I have yet to get sick of.
2. Maxwell, Greg Laswell “A Woman’s Work”
Originally written and performed by Kate Bush, these two covers make it hard to believe that the song should’ve been sang by anyone but a dude (although Maxwell’s pitch is high enough to be mistaken for the other gender).
3. Jeff Buckley “Hallelujah”
Interpret it any way you want; it can be reflective and a little heartbreaking, but always, always stunning. This song is about as lyrically perfect as any song is ever going to get, and reaffirms my belief that Leonard Cohen is one of the most brilliant songwriters ever.
4. CCR, Marvin Gaye “I Heard It Through the Grapevine”
I’ve been so in love with both versions of this 1966 original that I’ve given up trying to choose a favorite. In this contest, there are no losers.
5. David Gray “I Think It’s Gonna Rain Today”
Six degrees of separation: “I Think It’s Gonna Rain Today” was written by Randy Newman, who also penned “Feels Like Home”, which Chantal Kreviazuk covered. Chantal also did a cover of “Leaving On a Jet Plane”, originally written and sang by John Denver. The song was also previously made popular by being covered by Peter, Paul, and Mary, who were also responsible for “Puff, the Magic Dragon”, one of the few songs from my childhood that I absolutely loathed. Is that six degrees or five?
6. Jason Mraz “In My Life”
Taking a break from his side job as a toilet paper guru, Jason Mraz covered one of my favorite Beatles songs, giving it a subtle-yet-undeniably-Jason hint of spice, making teenage girls oblivious to the fact that Paul and John were originally responsible for the masterpiece.
7. Ryan Adam, “Wonderwall”
Let’s get this straight: I absolutely love the original by Oasis, but this rendition by Ryan Adams swept me off my feet.
8. The Side Project “I Wanna Dance With Somebody”
If there’s a decade of music that gets constantly shit on for being a bit on the cheesy side, it would be the 80’s. But how could you hate on a period of time that gave us this, this, or this (okay, maybe not this one). Whitney Houston has always been my favorite pop diva (beat it, Beyonce), and her original version still remains one of my go-to’s to bust out corny dance moves. But leave it to a local Seattle band to be able to take a song that makes me dance like this, and transform the composition into something this beautiful.
9. Sarah Blasko “Hey Ya”
Some covers are arranged so uniquely that they take on an entirely new perspective. Who knew Outkast, responsible for lyrical gems such as “roses really smell like poo-oo-oo” could provide for such a lovely backdrop?
10. Whitney Houston “I Will Always Love You”
It broke my heart to see clips of Whitney’s most recent tour endeavor, where she sounded utterly deflated trying to sing this song (crack, is indeed, whack), but I have remained a fan, choosing to remember the Whitney during her glory days, blowing people away with her jaw-dropping voice. So many forget that it was the great (and my personal hero) Dolly Parton who wrote and originally performed this song, but with Whitney making it the classic as we all know it as being today, it’s hard to believe that anyone else but her was ever supposed to sing this song (often imitated, never duplicated).
11. Etta James “A Sunday Kind of Love”
I’ve heard countless versions of this 1946 jazz favorite, but none that ever came close to touching Etta and her powerhouse of a voice. They don’t make ‘em like this anymore, folks. This is the gold standard.
There have been countless times where I’ve heard my dad play an oldie that I particularly enjoyed, only to be informed of its rich history involving multiple renditions performed throughout decades of time. With the exception of the musical diarrhea that American Idol manages to purge out each season, I’m always open to new and different interpretations of music, especially if an artist can create new meanings and bring in new audiences by making the smallest architectural changes in melody. Good music will remain good music and can hit different emotional tones when sang by unexpected voices.
Uh, except you, Jessica Simpson, and your version of “Angels”. That shit was unacceptable.




