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Now that I'm gearing up to leave LA this summer, I realize just how much I love this place. It is after all, my hometown, and full of sunshine and fragrant wind. And I recently thought to myself that I'm finally getting the hang of this driving thing (except parallel parking). I guess I'm more of a So. Cal kind of girl than I thought.

St. Patrick's Day Entries

I spotted a couple people carrying tall banners right outside of Macy's Plaza and curiously walked toward what I perceived to be a mob, until I realized the banners were just ads for eyebrow threading and a new AT&T store. When I was living in Korea a few years ago, protests were not an uncommon sight. It had me excited for a minute.

Then I headed toward a blocked off street where Casey's pub was hosting a St. Patrick's Day show. Lured by a kazoo-like rendition of Shenandoah, I walked behind the stage and ran into another person carrying a banner. He was peering through the quasi-transparent green screen behind the stage, holding a banner that featured a bold red cross and the phrase, "Jesus saves." I kept walking and saw another of the same. If you ever visit Seoul, you'll see the night lit up by red crosses, all over the city.

On my way out from lunch at Harlem Place Cafe, I noticed a blown up image of more people holding banners in the cafe's window - protest signs this time! They read "WE WANT BEER".

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A familiar woman walked by me during lunch hour downtown today.
A well-groomed, full-bodied woman in makeup and business suit.
The last time I saw her, she was a moderately overweight teen with bushy eyebrows in white tank-top, overall shorts and tennis shoes. In my slip-on sneakers and t-shirt, I didn't know whether to feel young or old. Then I just wondered how wide my hips might appear to an observer. Do I digress?

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She stocks up on new tupperware
and holds onto once cherished storybooks.
Perhaps she even has money she doesn't have
set aside for the occasion.
In my usual prater, thinking of nothing in particular,
I mention that it seems having a family with two little kids
may be holding back an older friend in her career.She quickly
jumps into say that she could watch my babies,
as long as she is able to stop working full-time.

HUh? baby?
The hints have been becoming less and less subtle. Yes,
I am aware that I am a day over twenty-four and a quarter, 엄마.
But just barely, as it continuously surprises me to announce that number.

And please, there is no need to figure my years in Korean age.

꽃감

When a Korean adult says that a kid is nice (착하다), it means that he/she does not seem to be particularly intelligent. "Though he is not smart," is usually implied in the sentence, "he is nice." I am proud to say that I have never been called a nice kid.

As I write, I am thoroughly enjoying dried persimmon (곶감), even though I know that it is a product of P.R.O.C. (중국산!). I think the Korean market may have intentionally labeled it "Product of P.R.O.C." so that nice kids and adults alike do not realize it is made in China.

김치 라우동

I have had udon for five days straight as of today. But a new season is fast approaching. This is partly because I only have one bowl of instant udon left, but also because I'll soon be entering a new year and a new age.

Why have I been consistenly posting Friday through Monday? Why not Tuesday through Thursday?

Extraneous yet extremely necessary things to do

1. Practice drawing stick figures to my satisfaction.
2. Learn to cook a wider variety of dishes, that is, something other than pasta.
3.

RIP Mr. Russell, our biggest fan & cheerleader. The truest star in a school of aspiring stars.

everyone looked the same, only a little bit older.
someone said, "what's our ten year reunion gonna be like?"
many hugs later, I've returned home with the familiar scent of colognes.

september seems to be a month for death.
october, however, is one of birth.
my baby sister officially becomes a teenager tomorrow.