Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Upside of Blogging

Summer Street, Boston, Massachusetts
I'm not entirely sure how the weather is outside, but my Mac's Dashboard weather widget tells me it's 66° F and sunny.

Note: This content is actually a rather lengthy comment I had left regarding a question petite anglaise had posed on her entry "dislocated"

Blogging is… cathartic for me. At first, I was timid… weary of the hords of psychopaths that will read my thoughts and stalk me until my life was ruined. Soon enough, the truth set in; hardly anyone was interested in my thoughts let alone stalk me. I felt emboldened to come forth with more truth… more detail. I began to exorcise thoughts that have been randomly zipping around in my head. After a while, I felt my head had begun to clear… free from thoughts and ideas irrelevant to situations at hand.

Upside to blogging, which everyone seems to experience, is the motivation to do something just so that you can blog the experience. I think there’s nothing wrong with that as long as no one else is hurt. If the quest for interesting content makes your life fuller, does it matter what the motivation was?

Sonya Kitchell

Photos. Blogging got me to photograph the world around me in situations where I would normally opt not to. When memory fails the photos become portals into the past. Looking at the photos, each moment comes alive in my mind.

Last, but by far the least, I learned more about myself through the process of writing and reading my own blog. Example? I once wrote “perfection can be suffocating” when I was trying to describe the woman of my dreams. Then I realized, my quest for perfection was suffocating me as well as those around me. I’ve since given up that naive quest for the elusive perfection… and I cannot describe in words how liberating it is to revel in my own imperfection and mediocrities.

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Monday, May 29, 2006

Hot! Humid!

Beacon Street, Boston, Massachusetts
Outside: 72° F / Inside: 85° F

72° F... is bearable. After a whole day of evading the hot and humid weather by lingering around in Starbucks stores and movie theaters, I finally felt it was safe to return home around 10 PM. As I walked up the stairs to my attic room, the temperature seemed to increase by couple of degrees per floor. It still felt bearable. But when I opened the door to my room, I felt a wall of suffocating heat wave that had been held back by an invisible force field. How could this be? The window fan has been running all day to equilibriate the room temperature to outside temperature, but it was actually at least 10 degrees higher in the room!

I started thinking... How could this be? Possible cause... refrigerator generating heat... and... F**K IT! IT'S TOO HOT TO THINK! You can only take off only so much clothes to offset the heat... So... here I sit, in my accidental private sauna, stark naked, hoping the deliverance (air conditioner) will arrive before I die of heat exhaustion.

Sunday, May 21, 2006

Peace

Beacon Street, Boston, Massachusetts
47° F. quiet after a storm.

Just less than an hour ago, howling wind shook my window and all the world outside it. The wind hurled tiny pallets of ice crashing into my little Back Bay... then rain poured as if nature could no longer repress the swell of tears that had been building up for far too long. Suddenly, everything stopped. Air stood still... as if the nature were in denial... hiding its pain even from itself... 'Let it out' I whispered. 'holding on to the pain will only make things worse.' As I mouthed the very words, a storm of emotions came pouring out... my little ones, grandfather, my father's surgery... I couldn't be there for my loved ones... how did I come to this... Then, silence. Absolute silence... I looked outside my window and captured that very moment of peace...

Thursday, May 18, 2006

Yellow Fever

Summer Street, Boston, Massachusetts
72° F and sunny!

I was introduced to this hilarious video by miss gib (who decided to stop blogging, by the way). I just think it's so hilarious yet so true that I had to promote this great short comedy on my blog; a good piece of work should always be recognized. Kudos to you, all those at Wong Fu Productions, for addressing an important sociological phenomenon with self-deprecating humor. Enjoy!

woman of my dreams... part 2

Beacon Street, Boston, Massachusetts
55° F... 02:42 in the morning...

For the last few months, I have been trying to define the woman of my dreams. I believe that if I defined her in words, I would recognize her if she were to ever walk into my life. More importantly, I would know when a certain Ms. Only-Seems-Right happens to catch me in a vulnerable state. I have always loved women ever since I can remember. Everything about women fascinated me. That is my problem. Don't get me wrong. I've never been a womanizer (I'm somewhat shy and WAY too honest), but it seems my life pretty much revolved around women. I know what I'm admitting to probably makes me sound like some sort of overly obsessive psycho in desperate need of a good shrink, but it's the truth (not about needing a shrink). Let's just say it's a good thing I inherited shyness and good dose of self-restraint (though... alcohol does seem to diminish expression of these traits).

Enough about what's wrong with me... and back to the topic at hand. These are some of the words I would use to portray the women I find irresistible:

kind / caring

There she was... she was one of the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my entire life. It took me all but few seconds to realize I was in love. Then she had to open her mouth and something horrid to another person. I despised her. From nothing to "love" and then to "despise" in less than a minute.

The woman of my dreams has a kind and tender heart. Altruism is not required... though it would help. I tend to derive joy from making those who I care for happy at my own expense. Some would call it altruism, but I wouldn't; it's conditional altruism at best. When I give ten, I hope for at least one back... a tithe of some sort. When time passes and what appears to be selfless acts go unappreciated or not return at all, I gradually get discouraged and eventually stop. She will need to be caring enough to show appreciation and at least display genuine willingness to sacrifice a little for me.

optimistic

I come from generations of idealists. If I were to define the underlying core of our family, it would be the pursuit of ideals. I would love to be with someone who shares my enthusiasm for ideals. Ideals are nothing without optimism; without the hope of turning ideals into reality, ideals are nothing but unrealistic theories -- pipe dreams.

One of the main reasons why my kids' mother and I fell apart was because she was a realist and a pessimist. Our interpretation of a situation we both experienced would differ to a point where I often questioned whether we were describing the same event. She had an uncanny ability point out what is wrong with any object or situation. For example, she would look at a piece of clothing and immediately spot a single loose stitch and a slight discoloration size of a pinhead. As an optimist, I accepted her as a discerning shopper with a keen eye for defects. When she got upset over a casual conversation I had with a female church member, I took it as a sign of affection; she thought the woman was trying to seduce me. I stopped speaking to any female church member unaccompanied by a husband to put her at ease.

However, there comes a time when steady flow of pessimism and negativity becomes overwhelming even for the most optimistic idealist. When I would describe ideas and hopes with great optimism, she would take it apart and show me that I was nothing but a modern day Don Quixote. After a while, I began to see how foolish I was. Who was I to think, that one day, I can convert a pessimistic realist into an hopeful idealist... When I lost my optimism, I no longer saw a future between us.

intelligent

Intelligence is huge turn on for me. To be able to carry on a conversation... to discuss an idea without having to stop to explain why my statement is a logical progression from the last... I can't even begin to explain what that would feel like (never had the pleasure). Granted that I fail to vocalize my thoughts in a perfectly coherent manner, I hope, that someday, I will be with someone who can fill in the gaps and understand me without much elaboration... or at least someone who has the patience to let me know that I am being my incoherent self, smile, and kiss me.

Example: Rachel Weisz & Lisa Loeb

When I first saw Rachel Weisz on the silver screen, I thought she was cute. Just cute. Some months later, I read somewhere that she graduated from University of Cambridge and co-founded a student drama group. Next thing I knew, I was renting couple of her movies. It's pretty much the same story with Lisa Loeb. She graduated from Brown.

Clarification: I guess the examples I gave were somewhat misleading in a way. I don't think of a college degree as the indicator for intelligence. I have known some very intelligent (and wise) individuals who never graduated from college for one reason or another. On the other hand, I have also known some people who made me wonder how they ever got through their masters program. So, I can't emphasize enough that degree is not a measurement of one's intelligence. However, having said this, with no other information available, a degree from a reputable university provides a rough range of expected intelligence.

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open-minded

I believe open-mindedness to be a special blend of intelligence, humility, curiosity, and tolerance. She must be intelligent enough to be humble (she knows enough to know that she doesn't know everything) and tolerant enough to appreciate the quirky differences that make us human. She has to be willing to temporarily let go of her beliefs and refrain from hastily formed judgments, and maintain curiosity for world of knowledge yet to be explored.

Off topic: I always thought a person who feels "sympathy pain" is someone with psychosomatic tendencies and an heightened level of open-mindedness; you have to be open-minded enough to immerse yourself in another person's situation to empathize... and your psychosomatic tendencies kick in to manifest the pain associated with emotion. If this topic interests you, here's a bit dry but fascinating paper on empathy: Empathy: Its ultimate and proximate bases.

artistic

Sometime ago, I met a person who did not interest me at first sight. But, as soon as I heard she was the "art director" for a company, I felt my interest level spike.

I love art not because it's pleasing to some or all of the five senses but because art is an expression of the artist's perception of that moment in time... a view into the artist's soul. Since I feel I lack the ability to express myself so beautifully, I have tremendous respect for those who can.

There's another reason why I am attracted to artistic women. I seem to associate the ability to express oneself artistically with the courage to be open with emotions. I believe that someone who is not afraid to let go of her inhibitions to express herself can be... sensual.

sensual

When I say "sensual," I don't mean nymphomaniacal. There is nothing more beautiful and titillating than subtle expressions of sensuality: intensity with shyness, graceful and flowing movements, a slight touch, soft voice... a whisper... a subdued quivering exhale... effortless yet subtle trail of innuendoes... of sensuality... I believe these subconscious self expressions to be preludes to inquisitive and inhibition-free private pleasures that help bond a lasting relationship.

imperfect / quirky

Call me crazy, but I believe she's perfect only when she is imperfect. Though I expect (and strive for) perfection from myself, knowing well I'll never get there, I think of frailties and imperfections as adorable personal traits that make me want to protect, support, and care for that person. Sometimes, perfection can be suffocating.

epilogue

Does this person exist? I believe she does. We could be taking the same route to work every morning, just missing each other by 5 minutes each day. Or she could be on the other side of the globe. I know it's VERY naive of me to still believe that I'll know from the very moment I meet her for the first time... but I do. I still do...

Even if she does exist, am I worthy of such a person? I don't think I am... but what I can offer is... small sentimental gestures, conditional altruism, and devotion... (Did I mention I've been told I'm an excellent (amateur) masseur?). She'll have to accept me the way I am... and in return I will adore her frailties and love her... with every inch of my being.

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Saturday, May 13, 2006

It's Over

Beacon Street, Boston, Massachusetts
46° and raining...

It's still raining outside. It's been raining since last night. Knowing well the effect rain has on me, I dreaded what I might do...

I would stand in front of a store for 40 minutes... order a cup of mocha and ricotta cheese cake at Caffé Vittoria. I would drink my coffee and take only a single bite of the cake. I would take a short walk to Bacco to dine on spicy fried calimari and mushroom ravioli... and order a vodka martiniti (shaken) with single olive... I would then walk reluctantly to Hanover street for a cab to North Quincy only to take the red line back to Boston. I can only presume I would be emotionally weakened... and pathetic enough to call her... I would have done all of these on this 13th day of May, if I were still holding on. I didn't. It's over. Even with rain fueling my sentimental inclination, I stayed home. I thought about it, but dismissed the idea with unexpected ease.

Goodbye. May God be with you always and guide you in your journey. May you find happiness wherever you go and be at peace always.

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Friday, May 12, 2006

What's in My Bag?

Beacon Street, Boston, Massachusetts
49° F... can someone tell someone to turn the mister off? This isn't London, you know.

I've been tagged, once again, by a fellow blogger, Emily. This time I'm told to divulge the usual content of my bag... I have to tell you, the content of a man's bag isn't as interesting as a woman's. But, since I've come to think of Emily as a good friend, though we never met in person, I will play along.

Contents of my bag varies a bit with each bag. But these are the usual items you may find if you dare rummage through my bag.

Industrial-grade 12" PowerBook
I believe a laptop should be portable, but I require respectable performance from it when I compile applications. So, I customized this baby to the core. Needless to say, my PowerBook goes everywhere I go. I spent way too much money trying out all different types of protective gear. These days it's pampered in Incase Neoprene Sleeve and Incase Sling Pack.

Black iPod nano [4G]
I had to have it as soon as it was released... but, I was in Korea. I ended up spending WAY too much to get it long before iPod nano was released in Korea.

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Bang & Olufsen A8 Headphones
Purchased on a Singapore Air flight from Seoul to San Francisco. It's one of the most comfortable and stable set of headphones I've ever used. OK. Fine. It's Bang & Olufsen. I had to buy it.

iPod shuffle
I have an iPod mini, but even that was too bulky for quick trips to the market or during a workout. I bought this not knowing iPod nano was in the works at 1 Infinite Loop. (For those of you who can count, yes, I have THREE iPods all together)

Apple iPod In-Ear Headphones
These in-ear headphones are great for blocking out background noise so that you can hear the music without damaging your hearing. It goes without saying, these are perfect for air travel if you rather not carry around a set of bulky noise-cancelling headphones.

Sony Cybershot DSC-T1
This is the second DSC-T1 I purchased. The first one got stolen right out of my luggage during one of many flights from Boston to Seoul. Oh yeah... the camera box contained 5,000 USD in 50 dollar denominations. I blame myself for being stupid enough to put the camera in it's original box with so much cash and forgetting to hand carry the bag.

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Passport
I keep my passport near me at all times just in case I have to fly overseas at a moment's notice or to walk around in a foreign city on a whim.

Starbucks Notepad
Notepad made out of recycled material. Starbucks Korea was giving these out to those who purchased more than 10,000 KRW (~ 10 USD). The manager gave it to me though my purchase didn't really add up to 10,000 KRW; I believe she had the hots for me. She often insisted on making my drink personally.
PILOT® Dr. GRIP™ Gel Pen
Affordable quality writing instrument.

Book
At the moment, it's The Extra Man by Jonathan Ames. After reading his I Love You More Than You Know, I figured it was logical to expect similar hilarious self-deprecating humor in his other books. Since I share his enthusiasm for self-deprecating humor, I bought the book.

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Thursday, May 11, 2006

Pride and Prejudice

Beacon Street, Boston, Massachusetts
48° F and supposedly raining outside (too dark... late in the night to tell)

I felt somewhat obligated to watch the "Pride and Prejudice" DVD that had arrived from NetFlix almost a week ago; I guess I feel justified in keeping NetFlix membership only when I've watched a certain number of DVDs per month. (I digress from my original intent...) Anyhow, this movie, from this point on, shall remain as one of the most endearing movies of all time (at least in the realm of my own world) Always polite yet witty and cunning exchange of words... the graceful gestures... subtle expressions of love... and the innocence... I would have given anything to live in their world.

You must know... surely, you must know it was all for you. You are too generous to trifle with me. I believe you spoke with my aunt last night, and it has taught me to hope as I'd scarcely allowed myself before. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever. If, however, your feelings have changed, I will have to tell you: you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on.

Mr. Darcy professing his love to Elizabeth Bennet for the second time. (Elizabeth rejected him the first time)

I have to say that Mr. Darcy is a man after my own heart. He may seem reserved and aloof, but that's his and my way of dealing with shyness.

Someone once told me that I was a walking contradiction; I seek after bleeding-edge technology and yet my values are of the old world. For a short period of time, I attempted to appear more self-confident, almost bordering cockiness, because modern women seem to equate arrogance with confidence; humility and politeness seemed to give off the "boring" vibe. I felt like a sheep in wolf hide. Needless to say, I gave that up. I wasn't happy pretending to be something I am not.

It's late... I'm going to try to get at least a few hours of sleep before work...

Monday, May 08, 2006

Don't Stay!

Beacon Street, Boston, Massachusetts
50° F

Sometimes I need to remember just to breathe
Sometimes I need you to stay away from me
Sometimes I'm in disbelief, I didn't know
Somehow I need you to go


Don't stay
Forget our memories
Forget our possibilities
What you were changing me into
(Just take myself back and...)
Don't stay
Forget our memories
Forget our possibilities
Take all your faithlessness with you
(Just take myself back and...)
Don't stay


Sometimes I feel like I trusted you too well
Sometimes I just feel like strangling you myself
Sometimes I'm in disbelief, I didn't know
Somehow I need to be alone


Don't stay
Forget our memories
Forget our possibilities
What you were changing me into
(Just take myself back and...)
Don't stay
Forget our memories
Forget our possibilities
Take all your faithlessness with you
(Just take myself back and...)
Don't stay

I don’t need you anymore, don’t want to be ignored
I don’t need one more day of you wasting me away
I don’t need you anymore, I don’t want to be ignored
I don’t need one more day of you wasting me away
With no apologies

Don't stay
Forget our memories
Forget our possibilities
What you were changing me into
(Just take myself back and...)
Don't stay
Forget our memories
Forget our possibilities
Take all your faithlessness with you
(Just take myself back and...)
Don't stay
Don't stay
Don't stay

Linkin Park
Meteora
2003

it's over.

Friday, May 05, 2006

Spring...

Starbucks, 350 Newbury Street, Boston, Massachusetts
67° F and sunny

In Boston, spring is in full bloom. Beauty fills the streets adorned with prematurely acquired spring line that had been patiently waiting for its day in the sun. Spring unleashes waves of Bostonians from hibernation to boldly shed their layers concealing their pasty flesh. On Newbury street where everyone comes to be seen in their revealing virgin threads, people exchange quick and ever-so-awkward glances and attempt to disguise them as mere happenstances... only to repeat once more... accidentally. These are the rituals of spring that make Boston so endearing. Undercurrent of hope... and of new love... plague the bitter sweet melancholy that enriches artistic souls.

Monday, May 01, 2006

Passing of a great man

Summer Street, Boston, Massachusetts
54° F and sunny.

Sunday 3:58 PM. I was bagging my groceries at a self-checkout booth at Shaws. My phone buzzed urgently. It was my brother. Our maternal grandfather passed away last Thursday. When I asked why it took 3 days for someone to let me know... he said "mom didn't want me contact you. She said you were adjusting to your new job and going through..." I knew she wanted me there, but, as always, she was putting her needs and wants aside for me. She knew I would have flown over back home... putting a strain on my current job and finances... As I walked out of the supermarket, I nearly broke down and wept... for the man I will never see again... and for my mother's ever altruistic love.

My grandfather, SooDong Lee, was a great man. He was a man of the old world values... spartan, stoic, and idealistic. Though he was quite reserved with his emotions, he never seized to let us know, in his own subtle ways, how much he loved us. He was a brilliant man who could have made a name for himself, but he chose instead to educate young minds... to ensure a better future for his beloved country. He retired as a principle; countless educators paid their respects long after his retirement. He was well-traveled, literate in three languages, and he loved life. He rode his bicycle in Los Angeles well into his 90s and remained acute 'til his eternal slumber...

I will miss him...