I love how two seemingly similar people can be so different. They spent their formative years together in college and from what I understand, they shared some turbulent, eye-opening and wild times. That's part of the colorful story best friends should tell. They influenced one another in all the ways that count and supported each other through hard times.
I didn't have the pleasure of knowing them back then, but I'm honored to know the dynamic duo today. They're both strong, smart, savvy women who know what they want and never hesitate to go after it. They're gutsy, shameless and spontaneous. They have the ability to make me laugh and cry with one sentiment, a warm gaze or just a smile.
V-squared can also be described as two sides of the same coin. V says one thing and Q says another. No one is wrong -- they just usually offer two distinct viewpoints. For me, it's not all that surprising. I tend to think like them, so when they offer advice, it's like listening to myself weigh both sides of the argument. It's hearing my own conscience telling me I should, but then I shouldn't...
They are my collective voice of reason. More often than not, they are life coaches who dish wisdom, spot-on advice and raw honesty. They keep me sane when I feel like giving in or giving up. They remind me (without fail) that I'm special and to believe in myself. They don't tell me what I want to hear, but rather what I need to hear. They invited me to play Miranda. They appreciate and commend my sarcasm. They minted the loin cloth and "sweat be gone" jokes.
They're my dynamic duo.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Mrs. Julia Chin
Ever since we met in kindergarten, Joo Yong has been a best friend and sister to me, and someone I will know and cherish for all my life. She's someone who gives with her entire heart, always sees the best in people and cares deeply for those around her. We often joke that even from our rocking chairs - 50 years from now - we'll still be laughing and talking for hours like things have never changed, and with Joo Yong, I know it's true because that's the kind of special person she is. Today is somewhat bittersweet for me, not because I'm letting go of that image of us 50 years from now, but because I'm officially seeing my best friend off tonight to begin a new journey and chapter of life. It's certainly not an easy thing to do, but I'm reassured because I know I'm leaving her in good hands with Ronald - someone who truly gets her, makes her smile on the inside and out, and I know, will cherish her for all his life.
6.22.08
6.22.08
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
On Subtraction
11,923 is the estimated number of random strangers I've "bumped into" over the last year.
5,091 is the number of MP3's I stash on my hard drive.
3,200 is the number of stickers I owned and collected in early grade school.
400 is the number of CDs I own.
300 is the number of books I own.
165 is the number of human pounds I've physically lifted off the ground.
67 is the number of vertical inches I command.
49 is the number of poems I've written.
38 is the number of shoes I keep in rotation (more or less).
24 is the number of years I've known my oldest and dearest friend.
13 is the number of journals I've kept over the years.
10 is the number of countries I've visited in my quest to see the world.
9 is the number of foods I'm allergic to (and of course, enjoy eating).
8 is the number of times I've been to a house of faith.
8 is also the greatest number of inches of hair I've ever cut at once.
7 is my chosen lucky number.
6 is the number of jobs I've had since graduating college.
3 is the number of wisdom teeth I still have (but not for long).
2 is the number of siblings I have (yay for the middle child).
1 2 is the number of boys I've honestly loved.
1 is also the number of times I've ever been seriously injured.
0 is the number of times I'm willing to compromise my beliefs.
5,091 is the number of MP3's I stash on my hard drive.
3,200 is the number of stickers I owned and collected in early grade school.
400 is the number of CDs I own.
300 is the number of books I own.
165 is the number of human pounds I've physically lifted off the ground.
67 is the number of vertical inches I command.
49 is the number of poems I've written.
38 is the number of shoes I keep in rotation (more or less).
24 is the number of years I've known my oldest and dearest friend.
13 is the number of journals I've kept over the years.
10 is the number of countries I've visited in my quest to see the world.
9 is the number of foods I'm allergic to (and of course, enjoy eating).
8 is the number of times I've been to a house of faith.
8 is also the greatest number of inches of hair I've ever cut at once.
7 is my chosen lucky number.
6 is the number of jobs I've had since graduating college.
3 is the number of wisdom teeth I still have (but not for long).
2 is the number of siblings I have (yay for the middle child).
1 is also the number of times I've ever been seriously injured.
0 is the number of times I'm willing to compromise my beliefs.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
On Hope
Her world came crashing down in that moment of discovery. Fourteen years whittled down to five months of ignorance and agony. When the truth broke, her faith was broken too. Things fall apart. People fall apart. But I worried - how would she move beyond the pain and deception to gather herself and become whole again? It seemed her only misdeed was perhaps trusting too much and loving with her whole heart. He broke her faith in love, truth and kindness. It seemed that nothing was truly sacred. If fourteen years together didn't equate to trust, surely it would take her that much longer to regain trust in goodness. In people. In listening to her instincts. In following her heart.
A year has now passed since that devastating day. It was a terrible lesson for her to learn about love and self. It was also her greatest lesson in loss. But somehow, she steadied herself in time and began the recovery process. She opened herself up to possibilities and little by little, began to imagine Happiness. In the process, she is redefining what happiness is for her and finding her way back to Faith. She is learning to trust again and embracing the idea of Love, which is slowly revealing itself again in the familiar and the new.
She is what I think of when I imagine goodness. She has shown me that life doesn't pause despite the most piercing circumstances. She has taught me that when things falls apart, a new will can be built in its place and it can be stronger than we ever imagined. In her unknowing example, she has taught me the greatest lesson in Hope.
A year has now passed since that devastating day. It was a terrible lesson for her to learn about love and self. It was also her greatest lesson in loss. But somehow, she steadied herself in time and began the recovery process. She opened herself up to possibilities and little by little, began to imagine Happiness. In the process, she is redefining what happiness is for her and finding her way back to Faith. She is learning to trust again and embracing the idea of Love, which is slowly revealing itself again in the familiar and the new.
She is what I think of when I imagine goodness. She has shown me that life doesn't pause despite the most piercing circumstances. She has taught me that when things falls apart, a new will can be built in its place and it can be stronger than we ever imagined. In her unknowing example, she has taught me the greatest lesson in Hope.
Monday, March 31, 2008
On Memory
The wheels in my mind are always turning, and I realized as I was showering (and thinking of course) that the majority of my thoughts are replays of memories. My memory is always firing off images, faces, names, places...it's stuck on shuffle. More often than not, I experience total recall, which can be a blessing and a curse. I rarely forget names or faces. Some strangers become familiars. Smells, no matter how faint or subtle, are rapidly logged in my brain. Feelings are etched in my memory. Moments - both insignificant and special, comprise my mental photo album. I remember where I left things years after I've tucked them away and I rarely forget conversations (maybe to the point of being obnoxious).
I remember running and discovering that I (at age 8) was faster than I thought. I remember scraping my knees and being scolded for running too fast, too aimlessly. I remember the distinct smell of baby powder on my baby brother's skin. I remember his fierce temper and arguing with him like we were mortal enemies. I remember the smell of English roses in our backyard. I remember the smell of incense at my grandmother's funeral. I remember how special I felt when he remembered - and surprised me with - my favorite birthday cake. I remember our goodbye at the airport and sensing it would be our last. I remember snorkeling for the first time and being amazed by everything I saw. I remember swimming too far out and doubling back because I really couldn't swim. I remember discovering Love and fighting for it countless times. I remember letting it go because it was time and I was not the same person anymore.
Sometimes, I think I remember too much for my own good. I seem to be incapable of editing. But first and foremost, I remember who I am and who I want to be, despite temptations, mis-steps and distractions. Memories guide me, ground me and inform me. After all, forgetting would be tragic, if not difficult.
I remember running and discovering that I (at age 8) was faster than I thought. I remember scraping my knees and being scolded for running too fast, too aimlessly. I remember the distinct smell of baby powder on my baby brother's skin. I remember his fierce temper and arguing with him like we were mortal enemies. I remember the smell of English roses in our backyard. I remember the smell of incense at my grandmother's funeral. I remember how special I felt when he remembered - and surprised me with - my favorite birthday cake. I remember our goodbye at the airport and sensing it would be our last. I remember snorkeling for the first time and being amazed by everything I saw. I remember swimming too far out and doubling back because I really couldn't swim. I remember discovering Love and fighting for it countless times. I remember letting it go because it was time and I was not the same person anymore.
Sometimes, I think I remember too much for my own good. I seem to be incapable of editing. But first and foremost, I remember who I am and who I want to be, despite temptations, mis-steps and distractions. Memories guide me, ground me and inform me. After all, forgetting would be tragic, if not difficult.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
On Sadness
It's a frown disguised as a contented smile
And a normalcy hiding wild irrationality.
It's the mind's daily lamentations
Revealed through the eyes as a singular sorrow.
It's standing at the brink of indifference
Only to be rescued by unwavering despair.
It's a weakness with a firm grip on one's being
And a weight that sits with you like an old friend.
It's mourning something that was but is no longer
And a secret longing in the hollows of one's soul.
It's a black dust that settles into the ruby heart
And a hurt that fills the body to the brim.
It's unspoken devastation revealing itself in pieces
And a fragile memory that haunts us as a waking dream.
It's knowing and not knowing truth
And wanting not to want what is past.
It's falling, falling down
And falling apart.
And a normalcy hiding wild irrationality.
It's the mind's daily lamentations
Revealed through the eyes as a singular sorrow.
It's standing at the brink of indifference
Only to be rescued by unwavering despair.
It's a weakness with a firm grip on one's being
And a weight that sits with you like an old friend.
It's mourning something that was but is no longer
And a secret longing in the hollows of one's soul.
It's a black dust that settles into the ruby heart
And a hurt that fills the body to the brim.
It's unspoken devastation revealing itself in pieces
And a fragile memory that haunts us as a waking dream.
It's knowing and not knowing truth
And wanting not to want what is past.
It's falling, falling down
And falling apart.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
P.S.
We don't see things as they are; we see things as we are.
-Anais Nin
I think this quote is very fitting for the feel of the new year. It holds a lot of raw honesty and meaning that I think we tend to overlook. It's often easy to say that we have impartial and untainted views of the people and things around us, but how often do we truly understand and capture what is there and not just what we want to see? We all hold unique opinions about everything under the sun; these thoughts are born from our natural inclinations, personalities, and what we have chosen to incorporate from social influences around us. We can only attempt to get closer to understanding what is really before us by considering all viewpoints and even thinking outside of ourselves. This is how I would like to approach the new year - with a larger sense of my environment, a deeper understanding of people and a greater appreciation for everything that I value in life. With a new year comes re-evaluation of self and surroundings and hopefully, peace of mind.
From January 2003. Some things don't change.
-Anais Nin
I think this quote is very fitting for the feel of the new year. It holds a lot of raw honesty and meaning that I think we tend to overlook. It's often easy to say that we have impartial and untainted views of the people and things around us, but how often do we truly understand and capture what is there and not just what we want to see? We all hold unique opinions about everything under the sun; these thoughts are born from our natural inclinations, personalities, and what we have chosen to incorporate from social influences around us. We can only attempt to get closer to understanding what is really before us by considering all viewpoints and even thinking outside of ourselves. This is how I would like to approach the new year - with a larger sense of my environment, a deeper understanding of people and a greater appreciation for everything that I value in life. With a new year comes re-evaluation of self and surroundings and hopefully, peace of mind.
From January 2003. Some things don't change.
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