Friday, April 29, 2005

thoughts after friday night talks...

When my nephew cries, I put my finger in his mouth and he grabs a hold of it chomping down with his tootless gums. Sometimes, he looks up at me with his big, brown eyes that seem to say, "thanks for making my life that much more livable right now..." If only life were that easy for the rest of us. There are times when I wish I could absorb the struggles and pains of the world around me - of those I love. I think that's what drew me to clinical psychology in the first place. As I've gotten older, "wiser" - mostly more cynical, I realize that we're simply meant to struggle. But if I can make you smile in the midst of hating life just so you know that at the moment, you're not alone - it will have made my life that much more livable.

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

happy times...



Tuesday, April 26, 2005

The worst bridesmaid ever.

8 am, Sat Morning (ok 8:30 - I was a half hour late): I show up at the salon with muffins in one hand and four coffees in the other - all smiles. Unfortunately, my dress was still at home. Smiles quickly disappeared. I was told that if this was a reality tv show, I would have been kicked off the island ten episodes ago. It felt as if everyone in the wedding party was one step ahead of me. For all those who may consider me as a bridesmaid in the future...let this be a warning to you! I'm just a "pretty face" and not much more - and most of the time, not even a pretty face...

As a side note, I think I'd like to live in my blog. I've been hit on and complimented more times here than in reality. But hey - I'll take compliments in any format!

single in suburbia

This weekend I went home to the quiet suburbs surrounding Philly to be a part of June and Rich's wedding. She is one of my oldest and dearest of friends - and Rich couldn't be a more suitable husband. The wedding itself was beautiful, the food was yummy, the vino was plentiful and afterwards, we danced the night away with a rockin' DJ. But being single in suburbia means having everyone and their mothers want to set you up and being only 1 of 5 girls waiting to catch the bouquet and after catching it, having the DJ announce to all the "eligible" men how very single and dateless you are. I also got my very first look of pity followed by the "oh, don't worry honey, you'll get married soon enough". I laughed wondering when I entered into that period in life when single became associated with pity. To me, I still obviously got "it" - why the hell can't they see that?!?!?

There's a funny shift that begins to occur in your twenties - especially for females. Older, wiser women always try and warn you - to prepare you, but until it happens, it always just seems to be folklore. Marriage. It sort of just sneaks up on you. In the past two years, I've been to six weddings (been in half of them) and will be attending three more before the summer is over. Two of my friends have already become parents - while I still try desperately to hang on to my "youth". Although as I lay in bed with what felt like the worst Monday hangover of my life...I wondered what exactly it was that I was holding on to. But for the life of me, I still can't seem to figure out what the whole rush into marriage is about - all I know is that somehow, I feel a little left behind. I'm only 26 though and figure I still have a good couple of years left to figure it out. Besides, every married couple needs that friend with her single gal stories to live out their fantasies...no? Fortunately for them, I am committed to living out this New York City single gal lifestyle...just to make their lives that much richer. I am that generous.

Till then...anyone wanna get a drink? We can party like the rockstars we are...

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

A blurb on Mr. Kazakhstan

Mr. Kazakhstan has an interesting outlook on the world. My sister, Jenn, likes to call him “Star Man”. He looks around with wide, blue eyes and a charlie brown smile so that it always unnerves me when I have to answer questions like, “what does it mean for a woman to be top heavy?” and “why would men and women like to meet at bars?” I always end up feeling like some kind of pagan.

I met him in August when my sister called me up and said, “I have a date for you” – then giggled. Great.

Last time, I took him out to meet some friends of mine. I admit they can be a bit rowdy at times, but they do their very best to entertain. So when he said to me, “well, you’re friends are not the type of contacts I would need to get a job, nor would I marry any of them…” - I was a bit shocked. And despite all the cultural sensitivity I could muster, I was offended. And with my sister’s permission, I decided no more to Mr. Kazakhstan.

But he calls and calls. So I took him out again this past weekend. It was actually kind of funny. I love the shocked responses when he tells people where he’s from. First – silence. Then – “Kazakhstan!!!” Then there’s the occasional response, “Oh – like Barak! You know, Ali G?” Americans are so well cultured.

And he has this strange effect. Though I intended to give Mr. Kazakhstan his first drunken experience, only I stumbled out of the bar less than sober.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

a little help please

Can anyone tell me what the next line should be?


How loose is your goose?
How funky is your chicken?


I just came back from a happy "hour" - it's midnight and my bedtime. and my lungs feel like sand paper.

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

things that just are.

Over the week, I've gotten two bits of advice on my financial state. One from my mother whose advice has never once changed since I was little - "you only worry about obey mother. Then God take care of you." And then there's Unha who told me to become a naked dealer. Suprisingly, I still have no clue what to do about next year.


On a side note, have you ever seen a four month old projectile vomit? My sister's been sick all week and so I spent Monday morning with Andres so that she can get some sleep. We had a blast - making chicken soup, cracking bad jokes, doing the laundry, changing diapers, reading books, and then - the vomit. Of all the amazing things the boy can do - one of them happens to be being able to spit up a whole bunch of milk - up to a foot away. After the third or fourth time though, you get kind of used to it and eventually, don't feel that strong urge to clean it off your shirt anymore. It just is.

Friday, April 01, 2005

a small bit on friends.

Ok. I'm depressed. I have no clue how I'm going to afford school next year. And I just looked over at the time and the first thought I had was, "shit, have I really been sitting here in bed for the past two hours?" Then, I wondered how much longer I could go before I had to get up and out of bed. Apparently not much longer because Lara called and is dragging my ass to some bar in the lower east side.

Today, I hate my life, but love my friends. If Lara hadn't called, I really think I'd still be sitting here thinking about having to pee and listening to my stomach grumble. I also had lunch with Unha - now known as Julia to those who didn't know her in junior high. It was strangely comforting to sit with her and make fun of how "tragic" my life is. And then there's hunie - the hippest korean guy I know. I've marked our friendship as "under construction", but his sympathetic ear was much appreciated - that and his own financial woes. We woed together.