Hope

I long for the day when I can look up at the sky and freely say I'm doing alright. Crisp blue sky, gentle breeze lightly caressing the leaves, at their peak---right before they surrender to December's Winter. One can only hope, continue to work on moving on, and taking life as it comes. I don't know what I'm doing, but knowing that at the "end of the day," (one day) everything will be serene and all this heartache will be but a distant memory...

Attention to Details

Attention to details. Attention to details. That phrase drives me insane. Every position that interests me in the Finance, Economics, and even Accounting, fields posits that the ideal candidate must possess the unequivocally perfect "attention to details" skill. I've always thought of myself as possessing said skill, but I guess it's not enough to appeal to some of the "big dogs" out there. Oh well, I used to panic a lot more about this---not getting a job immediately out of college, and wondering what I would do with myself---but now, I dunno, I kind of feel that I'm slowly but surely coming out of my shell, putting myself out there and networking and whatnot. (...my current plan, which I impulsively jumpstarted a couple of days ago, will hopefully work...if it does, y'all will surely find out about it!)

Anyway, let's pay attention to other details. The fun and light details in life, found effortlessly by chance. Enjoy:

Only the best coffee candies EVER!

One of the cool things about working at Pier 1 Imports during the holidays: free Christmas ornament of my choosing.

Circle of life. I dunno about you, but I absolutely love this rich yellow.

Something about this out-of-focus PINK dog just tickles me so.

Pier 1 Imports Easter bunnies, before they faded from being out in the sunlight too much.

A side note on the "best coffee candies EVER:" there's an Asian Market near my workplace, and one day, the owner came by and dropped off a few candy bags for us to enjoy (you know, because we're just soooo awesome) and at first I was reluctant...I mean, the wrapper didn't have an actual name brand...but when I tried this small three-dimensional coffee colored oval confection, I was immediately wooed. These so-called "CAPPUCCINO candies" are definitely worth looking for, and just look at the adorable wrappers! SO CUUUUUUUUUTE! <3

[Another side note: I absolutely love Pier 1 Imports. Just go into one of their stores and explore...you're bound to find something new and interesting on every visit! (And I'm not just saying that because I worked with them a few times!)]

Tidbits Adventures: New York

Good evening to all!

It's quite blustery-windy tonight (and it has been practically all day) in good ole Dallas. I cleaned out my purse last night and I found all of my New York receipts, plane ticket stubs, and other little mementos. This ablution of sorts brought with it a moment of reminiscence: I remembered the thrill of exploration, the thrill of getting lost and finding my way back home. I miss New York dearly, I miss my love, I miss my limitless freedom. While I can't exactly have all of those things here, it does feel good to remember all the crazy things I did on my trip. (And since I did mention before...if I had a chance to write about the actual trip, more than just the "catalyst story," here's what happened...)

Wednesday:

I woke up in Texas, briefly touched Georgia soil (well, Georgia airport floor), and arrived in New York in a span of 6 hours (give or take that time zone change). The moment we got off the plane at the LaGuardia Airport, we were greeted by a different rhythm. Everybody moving along, nobody stopping, all with a purpose. Taxis and cars and buses honking in the airport traffic. My sister and I called for our shuttle bus and shared it with a bunch of Canadians talking about Rugby. Upon arriving to our room, we were famished; we hadn't eaten since morningtime, unless you count the tiny pretzel baggy from the plane ride. Nani used her awesome food ordering skills and ordered pizza. Dinner was served and we were exhausted from traveling. Sleep.

Thursday:

Our first time at a subway/train stop.

So we got on the 7 train, Times Square-bound. I unknowingly sat next to a homeless man with a crossword puzzle---it's okay, he was dozing off. We kind of knew where the train was headed, but we didn't really have an idea of where we would get off---it was, after all, our first day in the actual city. Luckily, Grand Central Station was the penultimate (I think) stop, so we got off there. To this day, I still don't know how we wandered up to the well-known center-lobby-place-thingy, you know, the setting for that big scene from Friends With Benefits, but we did, and with just my Google Maps app on my phone, we navigated out of the station.

The great thing about being in a city for the first time and wandering around in it is that you never really know where you might arrive. New York has a surplus of very interesting, unique, and always worthwhile, places and attractions to see, and frankly, I was overwhelmed. If I want to see everything New York has to offer, I'd have to move there. (And I'm seriously considering it, no lies.) Anyway, we toured the UN (an unexpected educational visit, I suppose), and after getting our dose of international relations, we decided to walk to Times Square. In perambulating aimlessly, we found several clothing stores (and it wasn't until Saturday that I was kind of able to piece my mental map of our travels together, we were on 5th Ave. without knowing it!) and bought a few things.

And then...there it was. Times Square.

So many colors. Ads and people.

Bright lights, screens, and purpose.

So we were there. And then I impulsively decided to buy tickets to The Phantom of the Opera that evening at the Majestic. It was, by the way, awesome. Amazing. Getting back home afterward, not so much.

Yes, this is the part of my travel story that gets kind of scary. It was impossible to get a taxi to take us home, not to mention unnecessarily expensive, and we reluctantly decided to take the train back home. Unfortunately, I got us off at the wrong stop, and oops, we were super far away from the hotel, in the middle of Queens, in the middle of the night, AND it started pouring down on us. But there was no time to be scared, I was in SURVIVAL MODE. I mentioned before that if a rapist or murderer or some kind of felon had attempted to attack us, he would've regretted that decision. I would have mostly likely severely injured (if not accidentally killed) that poor hypothetical criminal. Thank God no rapist was around! Thank God indeed, actually, for I really don't see how a taxi appeared out of nowhere right in front of us. Some passenger got out and Nani immediately slid into the taxi and I gave the taxi driver the address. We shortly made it back home then, too late for our tastes! The adrenaline was still pumping through my body, but I eventually fell into a deep and restful slumber.

Friday:

At the Met, with my friend Vincent van Gogh.

It was another day, and we were ready for another adventure. I mean, we had already gotten lost---at NIGHT, mind you---what else could happen to us now? We went back to Times Square and did some more shopping and walking, and then we walked all the way to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. You know, that museum, in all its magnitude and glory, seems like a microcosm of New York in retrospect. Just like New York, the Met has so many works and so much rich history that one day, let alone five hours, is not enough to take it all in. Overwhelming. I contemplated not meeting with the former-love-of-my-life so that I could enjoy as much as I could of the Met, but we were hungry---and tired from all the walking---God, the walking!---so we ended up meeting with him. And well, you know that part of the story: if you need a refresher, here you go.

We had some lovely tasting pizza and some really good gelato with a rather bland name---Grom, I believe? It was a nice evening, and we all parted ways at Union Square. (I do apologize, I didn't take any pictures of that evening, it was better that way, my own sense of foreshadowing, I guess.) This time, when we got on the train back home, we didn't get lost. I felt a real sense of accomplishment.

Saturday:

Our last full day in New York consisted of trains, walking, walking some more, and Coney Island, and the moment I decided to leave my heart in New York.

I wonder what these buildings would say if they could talk.

 The days before this Saturday had been mostly gloomy: the sky had been mostly cloudy and rainy, and the weather was kind of stuffy at times because of everyone crowding around and walking so near to each other.

St. Patrick's Cathedral. So majestic and stoic.

St. Patrick's Cathedral had been on my list of things to see at New York, but I had given up on finding it, since we were pressed for time. But I guess St. Patrick found me.

And of course, we had to take a picture in front of the hotel from Home Alone 2: Lost in New York.

And then, we finally made it to Coney Island, which I didn't know was in Brooklyn, but yeah, it was, or it is, actually. It was the perfect way to end our trip to New York. The sky was gorgeous, the great big clouds billowing above us, the seagulls letting themselves be navigated by the wind. It was then that I truly wanted to stay in New York forever, and all those moments when I used to say "I'm scared" did not compare to the things I had encountered there. I realized that I could (and can) do a lot more than I thought I could...

Boardwalk, mid-afternoon.

Some of the Coney Island attractions, empty.

Of course we couldn't forget the hot dog (or in my case, the fries)!

I am happy to say, that while I am back in Dallas now, it's quite alright. After this trip and the end of the former-love-of-my-life, I've been making more positive life-changing decisions. And regardless of how things work out with my career, studies, and love, I'm not going to regret any of my decisions and actions. It's all for the best.

Till next time, New York!

Cookie Chain

Greetings, Friends,

I promise, the actual cookies will look much better!

Living in Texas, I guess we're all kind of used to the crazy weather that likes to parade around for short and volatile visits. Yesterday was a very pleasant day, kind of cooling down by the evening, and today it's just been considerably cold and cloudy, and neverendingly drizzly. Cold weather always makes hot cocoa or fancy hot coffee and baked goods extra-appetizing.


Anyway, what  do I mean by Cookie Chain? I was reading some of the blogs on my reading list, and I came across Ms. Hannah J. Holmes' latest post about these cookies she made recently. What's curious is that she got the recipe from another site, and seeing warm cookie pictures make me want to bake them too! :)


So, I'll probably be making these chocolate chip cookies this weekend, and I'll be sure to let y'all know how they turn out! I know at least my little cousins will appreciate these cookies, and these baked goods should make the cold weather a little less harsh and a little more comfortable.


If y'all wanna continue this Cookie Chain, the recipe can be found right....HERE. Enjoy!

Fancy Skirt Plan

Good morning, Friends,

Upon returning home from my trip to New York, I decided it was time to turn things around, you know, get back on the fast track of career advancement. I also decided it was time to do things that make me happy. One thing that I cannot resist (and would love love LOVE to have a neverending supply of) is a nice skirt. I like all skirts, but I definitely prefer the classic, professional pencil skirt, which, if combined correctly with the rest of the clothing ensemble, works versatilely in both the workplace and the "fun-"place.

Anyway, the plan is, since now I have the time and desire to do so, to buy one (and only one, for budgeting purposes) skirt (or on occasion, a nice pair of dress/work pants) per paycheck. It is definitely doable, and I need to not only feel like an accomplished and worthy young professional, but look like it too!

Anthropologie Scalloped Pencil Skirt

This beautiful and whimsical Anthropologie pencil skirt is first on my list. I mean, look at the effortlessly beautiful layers! So gentle and delicate, yet elegant and classic. Add a nice pair of heels, a pearl necklace, and a nice blouse, and people will start thinking I'm an experienced and confident young professional. Of course, with the purchase of this skirt (and those to come) I will need to add a few more pairs of shoes and blouses...but those will be part of another plan.

A Disclaimer on Budget: Since I'm still setting some disposable income aside for my "rainy day" fund, I must abide by the "one skirt at a time" rule, in which I may not buy more than one skirt per pay period. I'm hoping my friends and family can assist me by enforcing this rule hahaha (I do tend to get carried away at times...)

Another Disclaimer: now, don't think I'm just doing this for appearance purposes. If you take the time to analyze the clothing items you purchase, and the ones you currently have in your wardrobe, you'll notice the different materials, stitching, and care that goes into all of your clothes. It's humbling and amazing, to know that someone can make these clothes (regardless if it's machine- or handmade or not). In my journey through this Fancy Skirt Plan, I hope to become more knowledgeable in my own sense of fashion and share what I know with the rest of the world.

Sometimes It Happens

{Music courtesy of Wilco, "Sometimes It Happens"}

Dear friends,

I always say this, but it has been a while since my last post. I should've already written about several Favorite Things, but I seriously did some crazy things that stopped me from completing my duty as a writer. Perhaps y'all remember how I would go on and on about going to New York, blah blah blah---well, I finally did it! :)

As my vacation approached in the beginning of October, I said to myself, "Euni, you really should just do it. Go to New York. Enjoy it!" So I proceeded and managed to get my younger sister (whom we'll call Nani) to agree to join me. My mother however, with her good intentions, didn't want me to go. For many reasons:

~~Wait till next year, you'll have more money saved up by then 

~~It's a big city
~~It's a dangerous city!
~~What's so cool about New York anyway?
~~Just stay here.

She almost had me convinced not to go, but when I really thought about it, I decided to go anyway. This was my chance to do something on my own, on a whim, just because, to fulfill some deep-rooted desire to explore, and so on. In other words, I couldn't be a "wussy baby" for my entire life---how would I learn what life was about without taking risks?

So I went, and I promise I'll write more about the trip---ok, no, I don't promise, because this trip ended up being a real catalyst in my life, and the smaller details don't quite compare in importance to the BIG PICTURE. (Ok, so I don't promise, but if I get around to it, I will talk about the fun Tidbits Adventures that took place too, at a later time.) I know it sounds corny and dumb, but it is 100% true. Here's how:

Before the trip began, I was terrified. Super terrified, as in I couldn't sleep at night because I kept thinking about being in a strange and unknown place and not knowing what to do if I got lost. Or thinking about not liking my destination. Or getting lost. Or raped. Or murdered. Or being the murderer (by accident of course). Even more terrifying was the thought that I would love it so much that returning home would break my heart. You know, like in the movie Inception, when the wife becomes "disillusioned" and depressed, and ends up killing herself? Yeeeeeahhhhhhh, lots of thoughts kept dizzying around my poor mind.

 Then, the trip came around, and I was on a plane to New York. I won't bore you with the details at this moment, but basically, I was the map/GPS-thingy for my sister. She, by the way, didn't really bother to plan too much about how to get to places and stuff---it felt like I was supposed to have the answers for how to get to different places, how to get back, and I, of course, had no idea what I was doing. Anyway, long story short, between Wednesday evening (when we got to New York) to Friday evening (when we met with the then-love-of-my-life) I had managed to get us (Nani and myself) to the hotel, the subway, Times Square, Grand Central Station, certain parts of 5th Ave., the Met, and Broadway...oh yes, and I also managed to get us lost in Queens at midnight, AND it started raining down on us. I had had to do on-the-spot problem solving---there were moments when I was in survival mode, and I swear, if a rapist had decided to attack us, man, I would've felt sorry for him, since he would've rued the day he crossed paths with us!

I digress, what am I getting at, you say? All this thinking, all this independence and freedom gave me a sense of accomplishment. I, Euni, am not a failure. I am capable of many many things. I do not sink. I swim. There is no time for flight, just fight. The twinkle in my eye had been extinguished, trampled away by the drudgery of my then-thought-of-as-boring work-study-work-sleep cycle, but in realizing that I knew how to survive and actually live, I gave my life a boost of rebirth and renewal. And I guess it's funny, you know, that upon discovering this powerful Euni, I met with my then-love-of-my-life.

 (You know that the "then-" is a sort of foreshadowing, but then again, all of my writing that deals with him ends in this way, so it really is just a redundancy of sorts.)

So there I was, with my sister, and with him. In my mind I had thought about this moment: I tried to play it cool, like it's no big deal if I see him or not, this is a big city and he wasn't the main reason for my visit. Since I'm playing it cool, I should give him a hug, because we're friends, and friends don't feel awkward when they hug.

 By now you should know that's not how I am. It was raining lightly. He was outside, holding an umbrella. I waved at him. No hug, I mean, come on, I'm an awkward hugger. It all seemed surreal to me. Here I had been, getting lost, aimlessly wandering through the city, and now here he was, trying to guide us somewhere unknown. I kind of felt like the then-love-of-my-life underestimated me; he didn't know the details of our adventures from before. He hadn't seen me take control of the situations that arose.

 We were in an amazing city, and suddenly, he didn't seem so amazing to me, after all I had been through, you know.

 It would have been great if I could have spoken up here too. But I couldn't apply all of that "fight or flight" and courage talk to my situation with him. I was too scared the entire time, thinking, he doesn't even love me, history has shown that I always end up hurt anyway, so I'll save us both the trouble and just keep quiet. Besides, if he wants me to say something, he should say something first. And another besides to that first besides, my sister was there, so awkwardness abounded. He was kind, courteous, and charming, and I was polite but curt. It was a short meeting, and I had the opportunity to at least hug him goodbye, but again, I didn't. We just parted ways.

 When I got back to my room, I felt kind of detached from the entire experience of the trip so far: I had discovered this awesome version of Euni and I had seen so much of an unknown city on my own (through trial and error); in living these things, my meeting with the then-love-of-my-life didn't quite compare with the newness and excitement of my exploration. Don't think I didn't love him anymore, I still did, (and do, but I'm trying to move away from that state actually), but I loved that new sense of self-worth, that I was (and am) capable of anything. (That's the corny part.)

I returned home on Sunday, and the love-of-my-life became the then-love-of-my-life. Apparently, very shortly after my return, he found his own love. I guess sometimes it happens that way, you know, if I had actually said something, or if I hadn't gotten lost earlier, things would've been different...or they would've been the same regardless. This is the part where I think of us being on different circles, and we just met at a tangent, for a brief moment, and that was it. Even now, I have decided not to do anything about him: could it be that our meeting had the same effect on him? We broke our own illusions of one another perhaps? I just won't think about it anymore, hopefully he's content with his new love. And I have recharged motivation to move on up in my career and education because I know I can do anything I want.

Favorite Things: Childhood Edition

After dwelling on what Favorite Thing I would choose as the first topic---since, you know, the first topic kind of sort of lays the foundation for the rest of this series---I decided to go back to some of my earliest memories of my life, to a time when I didn't know what cruelties existed in this world, a time when my imagination was an awesome (literally, causing awe) creator.

And so. I was about three years old.

Living in a one-bedroom apartment, located above the landlord's office, in a not-so-nice part of Dallas. Of course, three-year-old Euni didn't perceive the "not-so-nice-ness" of her surroundings. Those surroundings were her habitat.

It was a modest childhood, my older sister and I would play "dolls" with pencils and crayons, make "dresses" out of napkins for the girl crayons and have the boy crayons drive "cars" made from our own shoes. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, every day, but when I wasn't playing with crayons and pencils, I would explore the limits---or should I say, explore the uncharted territories---of my imagination.

I would create (since I didn't know how to write then) and sing songs, and I would play with my plain (yet loyal) "tito." What I enjoyed the most, however, was the time I spent with Mickey and Minnie Mouse. This is the part where it's kind of obscure: I really don't know where or how my mini-obsession with these Disney characters started, but I would spend hours playing with invisible versions of them. I would say, "Mickey did [this and that] today," or "Mickey told me today..."

~~~Today, I can understand the creepiness of the situation. I mean, yeah, some children have vivid imaginations, but when they start talking about their imaginary friends in too real a sense, it calls for attention.~~~

Anyway, my family understood I had an affinity for Mickey and Minnie. I don't remember who, but one of my family members gave me a black and red Minnie Mouse polka dot dress. The image below is the closest I could find to the actual dress---or the closest to the memory I have of the dress...

The Minnie dress.

Anyway, I guess I went through a little phase of sorts...I would wear this dress whenever I could. My dear mother would wash it, and sure enough, within 24 hours you would find me in the dress. The entire time I'd be chattering away about the things I did with Mickey and Minnie, unaware of how my vivid imagination was perceived by the adults around me.

Then one day...

I was talking with my mother about Mickey, and I guess she had grown tired of this imaginary character and his unwelcome company...I was wearing the dress...She got up.

Walked toward the kitchen and got the scissors. Came back to where I was blabbering on about my adventures with Mickey, and she said, "Stop with all this Mickey stuff! He's not real!" Yes...I do recall, I was trying to show her a drawing I had made, supposedly depicting something Mickey had done.

My mother had clandestinely started cutting my dress apart. When I noticed the mutilated state my dress was now in, I started to cry. Not the loud and annoying bawling that normal kids do, no, I did the signature Euni cry---silent, swelling tears building up in my eyes, until one by one, large singular tear drops rolled down across my cheeks.

It goes without saying, given my eccentric childhood behavior, that little Euni reacted differently to this episode. I didn't speak of the incident immediately afterward, and my adventures with Mickey merely became rare, make-believe kid stories. I did go on a tiny hunger strike---perhaps it was an unconscious effort on little Euni's part to rebel against the reality of life---but it didn't last very long.

I know, this Favorite Things post ends on a rather sad note, but remembering it, the fact that I knew no limits at one (rather early) point in my life adds courage and curiosity to current Euni. What did I have back then that made me fearless? What did I have that opened up my mind and allowed me to create great things? It is up to me, now a 23-year-old young professional, to find that spark once more. And I know, that when I find it, I will be unstoppable against all obstacles that come my way. :)