Month: April, 2013

saccharine mushiness

This post is late in coming. But I needed time to digest what has happened.

When I learned of the Boston bombing last week, I cried. For the runners, for the cheering supporters, for the unlucky passerby and mostly because of a gut-wrenching fear of the unknown.

Yet my sorrow seemed unwarranted. I was told that these occurrences should open American eyes to the tragedies abroad. I don’t disagree with the bigger picture yet lives were lost. Lives are lost everyday, they countered.

All you can do is keep living. Be grateful. Keep living.

Those were the words that gave me solace. That comforted me. And when I proclaimed just that I was met with.. silence. It was a disappointing moment.

Doubt crept in. Was I wrong in what I said? No, I realized, we have all just grown to deflect. Sarcasm and disdain towards optimism is our answer to life’s difficulties.

But I embrace the saccharine mushiness. I like inspirational quotes, happy endings in movies and tight hugs. I am in daily awe of the blessings of home and family and friends that I have. My heart bursts at the beauty in pictures and words that people can offer.

I am a child. Age accounts for nothing. I have spent a disproportionate amount of my life in thoughts and I have come to the realization that life is best lived simply. Childlike. Simple and childlike. These are condescending characteristics to give a grown woman, yet those are the very words my grandmother had use to describe me as a babe: sah. Amy would tease me-still does- about how I was sah sah and not very bright. But I like this idea of being sah if it means viewing life with less complications. I want to embrace life like a child does: with wide eyes and open arms, fearless.

Trying to Pray

This time, I have left my body behind me, crying
In its dark thorns.
There are good things in this world.
It is dusk.
It is the good darkness
Of women’s hands that touch loaves.
The spirit of a tree begins to move.
I touch leaves.
I close my eyes and think of water.
—-James Arlington Wright



My excuse for today’s distracted studying is that I have a gala to attend tonight. School is celebrating its 150th anniversary in style. There will  be a piper to welcome us, hors d’oeuvres to nibble, and beverages to sip. And I shall be schmoozing, cocktail in hand, wearing the above.

a summer list

The streets are alight with chatter as every restaurant pulls out iron wrought tables and chairs onto the sidewalk. All are filled; who can help but be enticed by the warming rays of sunlight and playful breeze that so loudly proclaim spring is finally here?

It sounds trite to talk about the weather but it is the only thing on everyone’s mind. Finals begin Friday but I refuse to hide away from such gloriously beautiful weather.  Yesterday Chibi and I sauntered over to a neighborhood coffee house: I studied; she people-watched. And she only growled once at a passing pair of French bulldogs!

Bliss, bliss, bliss. I’m counting down the days until next Friday when I will be set free from spring semester.

Until then, I’ve begun to compile a summer list to tide me over.


Browse vintage furniture on Girard
Shop at the Italian market
Take long strolls with Chibi
Make smores at camping
Listen to new music
Take pictures
Eat outdoors
Go on trips

Do pole dancing with the girls
And potluck dinners
And happy hours!

Visit a jazz club
Comedy club
Wine bar

a sensitive bad boy

Yesterday marked seven years with my sweet, darling Matthew. We’ve both forgotten how we decided April 5, 2006 would define the start our relationship. Our first kiss? The first time we said “I love you”? We should remember these things, we chided one another. But who can pinpoint when two high schoolers determined they were in a relationship?

What I do know is that Mat and I were completely unaware of the other throughout high school. Then he stood in the center of our English class junior year and read his personal statement. Our assignment was to pen an essay for college applications; he spoke of Aaron, his little brother. It was self-deprecating and sarcastic, mildly outlandish yet funny, and brimming with a tender affection for his brother. Intriguing. I stared after him as he went back to his seat, vanishing behind a cluster of people. How was it I never knew who he was?

I quickly sought out my best friend for details on this mystery boy. And what did I hear?

“Oh. He smokes a lot of weed.”

I was thrilled. A sensitive bad boy. My friend didn’t know anything else so I sketched out the rest in my mind: rebellious, most likely a big partier and looking for someone to patiently chip away his armor so that he could reveal his inner romantic. That would be me!

He would have a horrid temper and be madly jealous of any male that talked to me. He would get into fights defending my honor. Meanwhile, I would fret over these things but dutifully stick by his side because only I could placate him and, of course, because we were madly in love.

And here we are, seven years and one day later. I will say that he was did not live up to my expectations for how our story would go. I would learn that he harbors an enormous amount of trivial knowledge, usually pertaining to geography and history, my most hated subjects. He also excelled in school and did not need me to inspire him to achieve more (except in the hour before calculus homework was due). Although I was disappointed to learn that I would not be the lead character in The O.C., I also could not have been happier.

grace like ketchup

New York City, Hillsong
Easter Sunday was the first time in a long time that I have been to church.

The pastor spoke of having grace, using it liberally like ketchup on life.
Of spreading the gospel the way we spread gossip.
Of truly letting go of skeletons instead of keeping them hanging from our necks.
Of demonstrating rather than voicing your faith.

My spine tingled because it’s been eons since I’ve been surrounded by people so enthusiastic about God. It was an amazing service that echoed many of my thoughts. And a perfect way to end a relaxing Easter weekend.

I hope you had an amazing weekend too.