Tuesday, June 30, 2009

barefoot, snails, flowers, sparkles and non-sense (Stephany)

I have a friend who sends me texts on random days and it's things like, "Sus, it's Sunday and I'd like to pretend I'm Audrey Hepburn today" or "today is a crisp fall day, I imagine that you would rock in a poncho!" On other days she will write on my facebook page, things like,

"Susan. you are my flower. the biggest. most beautiful, brave one. you are better than all the other flowers. you are brighter. prominent. elegant. when I pass this floral shop on campus (April Flowers) I think of you. I don't know why. I absolutely like you a lot."

Then, the other day, I get snail mail at the office and it's a fan letter from my biggest fan. She tells me how I'm Audrey Hepburn and talks gibberish about life and how she found a baby bird by her mailbox and how she cried. This girl makes me feel empowered and I appreciate her for who SHE is. Her soul personified would be a sprite, barefooted, dancing, sensitive and deep. This soul of hers would be a in a big Tu-Tu with ribbons and sparkles. She would be on an adventure, to seek truth and redeem the weak with her pure heart and spilling tears from her eyes. She'd have a sword, forged by the hottest of heat and it is so sharp it would cut through shadows, a weapon that you could not dare to shake your fist at. She's serious and insightful, clairvoyant because her heart is pure. I appreciate her because she is the kind of free spirit that would be if we were in heaven with nothing to ponder but the love and wonder of our God. I appreciate her because I recognize that spirit in me, but quite often squashed by life, death, dark and the mundane. She reminds me who I am.

Friday, June 19, 2009

Whatever Lola wants, she gets

http://www.101cookbooks.com/mt-static/images/food/lolas_on_ice_cookbook.jpg

A woman "Lola" had bought this 1970's bus from ebay on a whim, refurbished it and began a small business selling ice cream! Out of a bus! "It's so fitting!" you think, 1970's bus embellished with polka dots and butterflies owned by a woman named Lola, who probably lives by whatever wind that blows. Or is this woman, one of the most bravest and the most strategically savvy culinary business women rising on a star? Someone once said it's easier to pursue a dream that is way out of the ordinary and safe because there are very few people who are brave enough to try it, you're only competing with a small collection of people. Chances are, with careful risk, a balance that is hard to keep, you will find yourself among the few who are truly successful and happy in the lofty goal you once only daydreamed about.

It seems easy enough, to buy a junkie bus from a Sanford and Sons type of place, slap some paint on it and the wheels on the bus go round and round, but I believe she's put much preparation into what goes into the ice cream she's about to sell out of this 70's free-love machine. With flavors like Bourbon vanilla ice cream with summer fruit, Raspberry sauce or Pedro Ximenez sherry, Valhrona chocolate sorbet with a brandy snap, Burnt orange caramel ice cream, Pineapple and chilli sorbet, and "Turkish Delight" (Rose petal and Lemon Verbena Ice Cream), there's no chance that she had just thrown this business together because she was in the mood. There had to be careful planning along with passion and hard work like anything! It's the step of faith she had taken that had made all the difference in the end...to have the genius to soup up a discarded bus.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

What you leave behind

Death comes to you like a ravenous animal that's been waiting in the brushes until you grow weak or least expect it, but it's been watching all along. We don't know when it will think it's the right time or how it will catch us, but it will, this is a promise death will keep no matter who you are. No one is exempted from it's fangs and claws. Recently my parents returned from burying my mother's mother in Korea and they seemed so rested and peaceful, unlike the time we had to bury my father's mother. Two years ago, everything was in haste, my grandmother had groaned and moaned as she passed through a dark tunnel of death. My mother would sit at her bedside inserting drops of morphine into the cracks of her mother in law's mouth and say,"dying is just as difficult and painful as being born, with blood, sweat and tears." Once my grandmother had died in my father's home, she left a residue of death in the air and to this day when my father goes out of town, my mother stays under the covers til daylight. She never says it's because someone had died there, but she merely says "I don't like this house."

My mother's mother had been led by the hand into death, guided by the angel of death. She had died in her sleep with no ailments, no medical bills or debts to be paid. She had left her son $20,000.00 (the exact amount of the funeral and reception costs) in the bank that she had accumulated by saving all the allowances her children and grandchildren had awarded her. She had not spent it on herself or others for the matter because she had the foresight to see the promise of death before her. She left all the women gold jewelry and prepared her son with two framed pictures of herself for the funeral. She died in her sleep, peacefully fading away as the night deepened, and in the morning, she'd left her body behind along with the small pile of riches she wanted to leave as her legacy. I feel she had taken care of us by preparing to die, so that she would not leave the burden to the people who are still in the awake. My great aunt passed just like, this, she had spent the afternoon sipping tea and chatting with her neighbor when she grew tired. She had gone home that late afternoon to bathe and change into clean linen clothing and she faded in her sleep.

My two grandmothers, matriarchs of Kong and Choi family lines had lived so differently and both died so fitting to who they were when they were living. There are no grandparents left in our family now, no visible strings to tie me to a tribe. I regret not asking my two grandmothers about the time of war and what life was like as little girls. They were living history books I procrastinated to read and now it's impossible for me to retrieve those memories. I recently found out that my grandmother who had just passed had been a impeccable dresser, neat, clean and always attentive to careful detail of her dress. I can imagine her that way because even in her old age, she had always dressed in clean, crisp clothing that fit her just right. Tucking in her shirt, always so discriminating even with the hand-me-downs she would receive from me. She'd notice my clothing and almost envying the clothes she cannot wear because it was inappropriate for someone her age. I'm proud of the two women I came from. One, who was a sprite, talented, outspoken and held her faith with fierce determination and the other who was a saint, with a quiet spirit, careful wisdom and dressed like lady Diana.

Friday, June 5, 2009

Chivalry

It's no secret Justin and Tom are my two favorites, besides Hansy, who is my true GQ smoothie, but let's just assume that as status quo. I have to say, there is a lot of heart throbs out there that can get a pulse going pretty fast, but why I choose these two Carmel delights are for reasons that are more than skin deep. They're talented. Not only is Justin Timberlake, a talented musician, but he also dances, acts and a regular on SNL, (you gotta love a man that can make you laugh) and if you ever see him on Talk shows, he may talk about his mother more than the regular hottie on screen. How sweet is that? Tom Brady on the other hand is that QB golden boy you've always had a crush on in high school, and when you watch this homecoming king play football, it's the focus and laser precision that causes more interest in Patriots football than I should ever take.

The other day, my brother asks, "if you had to choose between the two, who would you choose? Brady or Timberlake?" I had such a hard time choosing, it was like I was contemplating whether to save my mother or my father if they were both hanging off a cliff and I could only choose one. Then, I had to say Justin. Yes, esthetically, Tom is just a little superior, but I had to play in the fact that Brady had left his pregnant wife and is now married to a uber model. I can't give him the carte blanc of a celebrity and assume no celestial marriage ever lasts, because being a famous football player is just want he does, not who he really is as a person. I will never be able to tell if Timberlake would actually stick it out in a marriage, until he grows old with his wife, but as of date, he's the knight in shining armor. Mostly because for one, we know he's good to his mother and two, he's never cheated on his women and three, Jessica Biel looks damn pretty happy to me.

It's really more than what a man can perform for a lady, it's how she's treated and the virtue he holds. We as a people group can't separate out superficial accolades and the person you truly are. This is why we think some actors are better looking then others when they're all very comparable to one another, aka Hugh Jackman, who is handsome, but considered sexiest man because he is so wholesomely charming and is devoted to his family. Compared to Tom Cruise who is also a handsome man, but does not evoke the same sentiments because he doesn't believe in medication but believes in aliens.

"Chivalry is dead" is a phrase thrown around a lot these days, especially from the female counterparts of society. Chivalry is spoken like it's a set of tasks and rules men will have to perform and abide by, like holding the door open, entering through a revolving door before the lady, standing when the lady at the table stands to go to the power room, then pushing their chair in when she returns, opening the car door and letting her in. That's it? All we need from a man are those gestures for us to call him Chivalrous? I think K-Fed did that for Brittany Spears in the beginning of their courting days, but we wouldn't call him Chivalrous would we? Chivalry use to mean virtues such as mercy to the poor and to the weak, honor, bravery and protecting the innocent and is a champion of good, as well as courtly love, treating women with gentleness and carefulness. Those gestures are only consequences of a man who has virtue, honor and courtly love. Flowing out of a man committed to good and duty to God. If I ever have a son, I want to teach this to him.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

7 Sleek Cows

"And the cows that were ugly and gaunt ate up the seven sleek, fat cows. Then Pharaoh woke up."
(Genesis 41:4)

In the days of Joseph and Pharaoh, God spoke to men in dreams, telling them the days to come and the doom that is eminent. 7 gaunt cows ate the 7 sleek cows, indicating that the 7 years of bounty will be followed by 7 years of want. Those especially pure, knew how to interpret these dreams and know exactly what God was trying to tell the people. I don't dream much and my fitful sleep is normally met by a sleepy mornings. When I do dream, I see vivid visions of my girl friends with pregnant bellies and engaged hands. I find these dreams, a little amusing as I tell those who appear in my dreams what I've seen, until they confirm, that my dreams were telling truth.

A few years ago, I had a dream that the top row of my teeth were falling out and I tried to catch them with my hands. A couple of days later, my aunt dies in a car accident. A couple of years after that, I had the same dream, but this time, my teeth were soft and revealed black decay inside, like the shell of a suckled M&M that reveals the chocolate in the center of it. A few days later, my grandmother dies of cancer. A week ago, I had the same dream, this time, my teeth were strong, but falling out. I called my mom the next day to see if my grandmother (my mother's mother) was feeling okay these days. She tells me nonchalantly that she's doing fine. Two days ago, I got a phone call from my dad, telling me that my grandmother passed in her sleep. I drove my parents to the airport yesterday morning.

I recently wrote about a dream that I had where I was pregnant with a baby boy. Hans also had this dream, but I've already given birth to this child and he was freaking out about it. It's strange we both had the dream in the same night, but not only that, it's unusual that we would dream we were having a boy instead of a girl. We always assumed we would have all girls (if we were to conceive). I don't want to say that we're basing our whole future in the hands of dreams we had in our sleep, although the Pharaoh and Joseph did, but I really believe God is still gives us dreams. I don't know why he wouldn't in our day. I believe man has stopped listening and began to grow skeptical of such mysticism through out the years, but what can God not do? How is he limited? He's not. We are kept from the touch of God only because of our unbelief and fear. This is no room for this kind of "hocus pocus" in the post-modern world.

The dreams I recently had of my pregnant future is not detailed and descriptive, where a baby boy come with a scroll in hand stating exactly what God wants me to do. Nevertheless, I believe he's given me a convoluted and vague dream so that I have a choice here. I also believe God is a gracious Father who wants the best for his children, so he would not set up two closed boxed before you and one would contain the riches of Heaven and the other with gloom, doom and gnashing of teeth, while he grins and says "you better make the right choiiice~...maybe one will contain 7 sleek cows.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

A fitting piece

I recently met a girl that I called my "soul mate" only 3 hours after knowing her. A girl that had said things and thought things aloud that can only be this way if she had my exact life. Her father was a mover, whether it was for work or for personal reasons, he moved his children around every few years like my father did. When I started telling her my background and childhood, she said, "I get that, I totally get that". She then began to reveal her perspective on moving, staying, going, and friends, social structure and what her family means to her. I couldn't believe my ears because I, at one time or another, have said those exact sentences and phrases to describe my own sentiments. I finally felt validated for the person I am and how I feel torn between wanting a "normal" (I almost want to say civilian) life and the life that is fast and perpetually moving and changing. I have tendencies of wanting this very intimate relationship with people I love, my friends, my family. That relationships and friendships are deep wells that can go deeper and deeper, because that's the only social structure I've known, my family. Flipping the coin, I always assume all of my relationships are transient and temporary...it's convoluted I know.

I told one of my good friends about my chance meeting with this Soul mate of mine and she asked rhetorically, "I wonder why you met her." I thought about that for a while. "Why DID I meet her." Maybe it's a ridiculous question to put too much thought into, why do we meet anyone? But I feel God puts people in our lives, permanently or temporarily, to mold and make something of ourselves. I finally saw that I am a product of certain circumstances, because the proof was there sitting across from me, sipping a gin and tonic. I am not a social retard for nothing, there's a reason why I have a difficult time playing well with others and committing for the long haul. I must say, she put a puzzle piece in me, allowing me to be one piece closer to becoming a solid picture of myself. Even though we may not keep in touch, we'll understand why we didn't.