Wistful

It’s this type of weather – rain, lightning, thunder – that for some odd reason, successfully manages to access and procure the most nostalgic of my emotions. Perhaps it’s why I love autumn so much; it’s something in the crisp air that leaves a wistful desire, a sentimental yearning, for me to embrace the memory of a former time in my life.

The Departed

Has a movie ever left you with a bewildering aftertaste? This one did. I walked out of the theatre thinking, "what just happened?" If you love action, violence, blood, guns, plot twists, and Leonardo DiCaprio, you have got to see this movie.

Once you get past all of the r-rated vocabulary, you can truly appreciate the genius that is Martin Scorsese. Bonus points go to Leonardo; his acting was delightfully pure, and flat out fantastic. I can't believe I've gone by these past few years without appreciating how unbelievably gorgeous that man is. Matt Damon was damn good too - enough to make me even hate him a little bit for being such a good bad boy.


Photo: Screen Cap of The Departed


Photo: Screen Cap of The Departed

Katie Holmes in Style

Photo: Casually classy.

Photo: Spending time with Victoria Beckham pays.

October

First, how in the world is it October already? September flew by like no one's business! Not that I'm complaining (it was a very good month) because there's so much in store for the next couple of weeks, and I don't know how I'm to contain all of my excitement!

Holiday season is almost here, and I'm sure that it'll pass just as quickly as the rest of the year. In the interim, I'll be making most of my time by trying my best to watch my fave shows on TV (I am so not going to pretend as though I'm too cool to watch TV. I'm just 'okay'.)

Tentative schedule is as follows:

Sunday
08:00 Extreme Makeover Home Edition (ABC)
09:00 Desperate Housewives (ABC) or Cold Case (CBS)
10:00 Without a Trace (CBS)

Monday
08:00 Prison Break (Fox)
09:00 Heroes (NBC)
10:00 What about Brian (ABC)

Tuesday
08:00 House (Fox) or Gilmore Girls (CW)
10:00 Law and Order (NBC)

Wednesday
09:00 One Tree Hill (CW)
10:00 Lost (ABC)

Thursday
08:00 Smallville (CW)
09:00 Grey's Anatomy (ABC) or The OC (Fox)

Last but not least... I take pride in the fact that I never say things I don't mean. I don't say I love you if I don't love you. I don't say yes when I mean no. And when I say I'm going to announce my next big trip, I'm really gonna go. So with that said, and the ticket purchased... I'm bringin sexy back to London this month (and next)!

I waited and debated on buying my ticket, but I finally coughed up a pretty penny to reunite with my one true love: Big Ben. What else am I working so hard for, if not to splurge a lot on myself? Carpe diem guys, I stay true to my mantra... you only live once.

I'm counting down the days.

Conference Recap

We all stayed in our first class suites at the Queen Mary on Monday night (on company dime). It was alright. It was a bit old for my taste, but I love things that are spooky – so that part was good. Downtown Long Beach was quite lovely, and the scenery almost made me forget that the place is straight ghetto. Almost.

The women’s conference was amazing! We ended up getting so many more free gifts than we could have imagined, and the speakers were just phenomenal. I’ll save you the glorified recap and just say that it was very very very empowering. I want to be rich and powerful more so now – not for glory, but to be an architect of change.

Highlights:
Maria Shriver was a phenomenal public speaker.
TJ Russert made me cry a little.
Anna Quindlen had a lot of smart things to say.
Sarah Ferguson is my future aunt. She was fabulous.
The Dalai Lama was a comedian. And put him in my pocket.
Marth Stewart was wack.

The best part was when Stacy London and Clinton Kelly (from TLC's What Not To Wear) pulled my coworker Julie up on stage (who is their biggest fan, no lie) to give her a 360 consultation! I'm glad to say that they loved her outfit. She proclaimed that with the exception of her wedding and the birth of her children, that was the best day of her life. Watch her on Time Warner cable: TV on demand!


Photo: Long Beach, CA


Photo: Hotel Queen Mary


Photo: Walking to my room, and scared.


Photo: Sun deck.


Photo: Stacy London and Clinton Kelly from TLC's What Not To Wear.


Photo: My coworker Jukie stalking Clinton Kelly.

Current Loves and Hates

Love - Myspace privacy settings. I can't be stalked.
Hate - Xanga lock.

Love - My braces.
Hate - My braces for cutting my tongue.

Love - Delux Chili Cheddar Fries from Del Taco.
Hate - The Facebook newsfeed.

Love - All the new, fun blogs I've discovered.
Hate - That there aren't enough of them.

Love - Blogging.
Hate - When I want to spill my guts. And can't.

Say No To Lazy

Refer to the previous entry in retrospect. Then read this.

Every time I go to church, I feel like the message always hits home with me; just as it did last night at Bible study. Romans 12 (New Living Translation) reads:

6 God has given each of us the ability to do certain things well. So if God has given you the ability to prophesy, speak out when you have faith that God is speaking through you. 7 If your gift is that of serving others, serve them well. If you are a teacher, do a good job of teaching. 8 If your gift is to encourage others, do it! If you have money, share it generously. If God has given you leadership ability, take the responsibility seriously. And if you have a gift for showing kindness to others, do it gladly.

9 Don't just pretend that you love others. Really love them. Hate what is wrong. Stand on the side of the good. 10 Love each other with genuine affection, [b] and take delight in honoring each other. 11 Never be lazy in your work, but serve the Lord enthusiastically.

Never be lazy in your work. Whether it be spiritual work or "work-work," never be lazy. I’m almost certain that my body language reflected my guilt - as I proceeded to slouch down when Pastor Greg repeated that phrase over and over.

Ok, not that I’m justifying calling in sick – but really, I’m not lazy. I just think that I’ve already proven myself. Does that make sense?

Anyway, it left me thinking. And you too should contemplate on this thought:

Does your behavior reflect what you truly believe in?

I printed out that question and the scripture above, and taped it onto my computer monitor at work – for a little inspiration on rough days. And I tell you, today was a dang good day.

Today

I called in sick today.

I’ve gotta admit that I’m feeling a little guilty about it – especially since I took a vacation day last Friday, took a week off in August to get my wisdom teeth pulled, and have a week long vacation scheduled next month.

I think it’s the combination of growing generally bored with work (and the routine that accompanies it) & the anticipation of where I think I’ll be in the coming months that has caused me to stay home and google.

I can’t help it! When I feel like staying home, I feel like staying home – and into bed I go! There’s something undeniably satisfying from staying home on a work day. Sitting around and doing absolutely nothing on a Wednesday completely differs from sitting around and doing absolutely nothing on the weekend. And it’s not just because I get to watch Regis, Kelly, and The View. Or is it?

I’ve already stalked a couple people on my space. Next I’ll clean my room in hopes to improve my karmic disposition (cleaning really does make me feel good). I’ll shower (eventually). Then I’ll continue on contemplating on what I need to do to be where I really want to be.

I’ll also be drugged up on Motrin for the pains that are my bottom teeth. My braces and I have a love-hate relationship.

California Women

It's official! I'm one of five women attending the California Governor & First Lady's Conference on Women on behalf of my company. Boss man pulled me into his office this afternoon to give me the news. An exclusive all-day pass to the sold out event - and they're even putting me up in a hotel for the night. Ah, big companies equate great benefits.

Can you imagine? I'll get to hear and witness the Dalai Lama speak live. Live. I'm blessed.

Two Long Years Ago

I blame Kathy Kim for this entry.

I've always said that if I were forced to give away all of my belongings, but had the option to keep one thing - and just one thing - it'd be my leather journal. THE leather Journal. The one that started on my flight TO London, and ended on my flight back to LA. The journal that was blank and no thicker than 1 inch when I received it from my brother, and ended up being nearly 5 inches thick upon return. The journal that has every postcard, clipping, ticket stub, tube pass, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.. taped onto its worn and perused pages. The journal that kept me up on countless nights, accompanied me on every blessed journey, and absorbed my tears as they fell onto its surface.. The "travel" journal that could easily be mistaken for a romance novel to the untrained eye.

It chronicles, still, the most life altering experience of my life (for now).

It's because of this journal that I am able to take myself back precisely two years ago to date. September 18, 2004. I was riding a double decker bus when HE called. Yes, the HE whose name we never mention. The HE, who will likely remain, the only Asian man I'll ever have had shake-me-to-the-core feelings for. What an amazing memory that man is. Even though the feelings have long dissipated into the infinite abyss, I can still relive the way he made my insides do cartwheels.

Man, just thinking about London... I can close my eyes and remember exactly what the weather felt like on my skin. How it felt to breathe the coolness of the air. How the city smelled. How Norma would be making some dish with corn (haha). How my bed felt. How I'd hear the boys upstairs running around. My Michael. My Travis. My boys.

London was the best everything ever; and if we were there now, we'd be at Wetherspoons in three days. The one by Crawford Passage.

Photo: The Journal

Banksy's Barely Legal

A couple weeks/months ago, I heard a small rumor that Banksy was to come to town (thanks to the bloggers over at Wooster). Since then, I've been patiently perusing art blog after art blog, hoping to be the first to learn of the location/time. Alas, his website finally released the location/time yesterday mornin.

I planned ahead and took the day off work. No joke guys. That's how much I love this man's work. I (and Andrew, whom I convinced to also take the day off work) had to have been one of the first ten people there. Stalker, I know.

Anyway, it was off theee hook. He had a lot of his famous stencils on display; and even had a room devoted to a slide show of his stealth-mode endeavors. All in all, it was a gallery of goodness that cannot be dismissed. Although, I do have to admit that seeing his work commercialized on a canvas isn't the same as passing it on a metropolitan street. It didn't make me stop and think - but it was still amazing.

It's a three day exhibit (there's still time!) in one of LA's ghettos. He doesn't provide an address, but with the aid of google maps (and me) you should have an easier time finding it than I had (three wrong turns).

Take the 10 and exit Santa Fe south. It's literally the next street over from the freeway. Actually, it's not even really a street - more like an alley. A shady alley. In the ghetto. You'll know you're in the right place when you hit the dead end.

Nine 11

Photo: WTC Outline Project

There really isn't too much that I can say that hasn't already been said. I see the images playing over and over again on TV, but I don't to pretend to understand the despair that certain people must be feeling to this day.

It's a sad sad thought... that so many people perished so horrifically. When really, if we all just utilized our innate capacity to love thy neighbor, the world would really be a better place. I know, it sounds too easy. Impossible even. But it's a start.

God bless the souls that passed on that day. Not one more than any other. From the firemen to the maintenance men; from the father of eight children to Father Mychal Judge (the first recorded casualty of 9/11). I still can't think of him and not weep inside. They were all mothers, daughters, fathers, sons, brothers, sisters, etcetera - and each one of their lives had value.

And post script, God bless our armed forces (including those who have lost their lives) who are out there today as a result of nine eleven.

I must admit that I feel a bit guilty... because sometimes I forget. Yes, it affected my country, but it didn't hit me as hard as it may have to someone who saw it happen, or who lived down the street. I can live each day and not "consciously" think about nine eleven, even if I live each day in its shadow. Many people (mainly New Yorkers or those affected directly by the tragedy) can't go one hour without replaying that tragic day in their heads over and over. So, God bless them too. I pray that they eventually find peace of mind.

Seriously, without fancy metaphors and fancy words, let's all try and be better people. You'd be surprised at how a conscious outpouring of kindness can rub off on strangers who pass you on the street.

In all the countries I've visited, there is no place quite like America. It's a country second to none. I don't know enough about politics to insert a witty comment about the president or our government, but outside of all that hoopla, it's a great place to be - and I'm really proud of everything that this country stands for (even if I claim that I'm British half the time).

I think we all died a little that day.

Banksy News

I was randomly perusing through one of my favorite blogs when I came across this story:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/5310416.stm

Too frickin' awesome! My boy strikes again.

Going Nowhere

Every time another friend leaves to explore the world, I want to take a harpoon to my college diploma and pretend that I'm not qualified for anything that requires an education... or deodorant; JUST so that I could convince myself that I am brave enough to become a minimalist in New Zealand - or some place equally fascinating.

Dance

With talks of a promotion and the accelerated climb up the corporate ladder, why is it, you ask, I’d opt to live life on the cheap? Because money doesn’t matter when you’re dancing with children in Rwanda.



Next big trip. TBA. SOON.

Praise

Holy and Anointed One

Jesus, Jesus
Holy and anointed One
Jesus, Jesus
Risen and exalted One
Jesus

Your name is like honey on my lips
Your spirit like water to my soul
Your Word is a lamp unto my feet
Jesus I love you, I love You

Jesus, Jesus
Holy and anointed One
Jesus

Copyright © 1988 Mercy/Vineyard Publishing

My Thank Yous

Thanks to my family and friends, it’s quite possible that my 23rd birth ‘day’ has been the best so far.

Thank you for the early birthday wishes.
Thank you for the chocolate cake.
Thank you for the midnight phone call.
Thank you for your call from Japan.
Thank you for the balloons in my cubicle.
Thank you for the lovely two hour lunch.
Thank you for having flowers delivered to my work.
Thank you for the poem that made me cry like a river.
Thank you for the decorations and the lovely dinner.
Thank you for the 45 e-mails.
Thank you for the comments on myspace.
Thank you for the comments on facebook.
Thank you for your voicemails.
Thank you for your text messages.
Thank you for the conversations on the phone.
Thank you all for joining me at the yardhouse.
Thank you for the gifts (I loved them all).
Thank you for the cards, and calling me delicious.
Thank you for your company all day long.
Thank you for not complaining when they made us evacuate.

Most especially:

Thank you all for making my day infinitely unforgettable.
I have so much love for you.

CLICK HERE FOR BIRTHDAY PHOTOS

Photo: Happy B-day Me!

23 Isn't "Old"

Well, looks like I've made it to 23! I’m not going to sit here and pretend that “23” is old. To be 23, is to be fabulously young! And any of my peers who declare otherwise are, safe to say, completely delusional.

Twenty three is to be completely void of any distraction that may prevent me from spreading my wings.

Twenty three is living out all of my wildest dreams, and not leaving it to fate or to the future, to jump on a plane in order to find myself. Why wait until tomorrow? Tomorrow is a concept; a vague and unpromising entity on the brim of thought that shrivels into nothingness when doused with the torrent of cold truth that you might not be here tomorrow (it’s my mantra).

Twenty three is being exactly where I thought I’d be. Over the years, I’ve been so blessed. I’ve climbed trees that have swayed through summer breezes, trees that have seen the darkest of nights. And there I’ve sat, upon their highest of branches, perched from my castle in the clouds, feeling in all the world as if I were Cinderella. In the deepest corridors of my heart, I’m still that same girl. The only real difference between that child and her grown-up self is the complexity of her coping mechanisms. She still grows the same brown hair, cries the same tears.

Twenty three is too young to pretend that I have enough wisdom to marry, mother, and domesticate. How can I be all of that when I haven’t lived out all of the uncompromising promises I’ve made to myself over the years (which require full, encompassing selfishness)? Find myself first, define my relationship with God first, then maybe I’ll start to dab on those thoughts.

To embrace my youth, and to take my time in this amazing era called ‘early twenties,’ is a choice that is all my own. Soak in every last drop! I raise my glass to an amazing 23rd year of life… and my new mantra ‘free to be 23!”

Harvest

http://www.harvest.org/crusades/index.php/93.html

Your formal invitation.

Update: 9,313 people dedicated their lives to Christ that weekend. Wow.

My Boy Banksy is Back

The man kinda fell of the face of the earth for a while, but he's back... and he's in Brooklyn. I stole these off of the WC site. So sick.