My Own Worst Enemy

"Listen to my words as they come out wrong..."

I'll be honest. HA. Honesty? What a JOKE.

No, but seriously. I've been beating myself up a lot lately. I've always done this, but it's become worse lately. And things in life aren't exactly helping. (Are they ever?) Anyways, I've drawn several pictures on my phone to demonstrate a tiny bit of how my life has been an endless cycle lately.

If you like pictures... you'll love me in about 5 minutes.

First, let me say: I WANT people to laugh at this. Or at least smile.

Normally I start out normal. Makes sense, right?

Well lately, I've been starting out sad. Or slightly sad at least. Or easily saddened. Whatever. It's like this.

But now that bad things or sad thing continue to happen... and everything else is still the same... I've been sad.

And more sad...

It gotten pretty rough. It's like 3 in the morning every time that I'm crying and I'm alone and I've got all these sad movies and songs. I was torturing myself. I even almost got to the point that I thought I was going to drown in my own tears of sorrow and self-pity.

At one point, I forced myself to watch The Tourist... just because I know for a fact that it is a terrible film. The first time I watched it, I literally called the ending in the first 10 minutes of the movie.

One of the things that bummed me out even more was the fact that I had a fight with someone that I would never in my life intentionally hurt. I would do anything and everything for her... but apparently that wasn't enough? And wasn't reciprocated. Or something, whatever. The point of me mentioning this isn't to call her out or whatever immature thing people do online nowadays. I'm simply including this as a way to further make fun of myself.

So we had our fight on Skype. In reality, the conversation went like this.

To ME, in my land of pitifulness, it sorta looked like this:

It got to the point that I debated standing in a corner and just wasting my life away like a loser.

Like this.

Yes, I'm not wearing any pants.

This is my picture. I don't have to draw pants if I don't want to.

What else am I supposed to be in? A dress? Oh, please.

Also, the Corner of Failure has no room for pants. Pants are only for dignified people with loads of self confidence.

So, naturally, the me-inside-of-me started to talk to me.

Yes, that is the me-inside-of-me that is drawn here. --->

Me: (sigh)

Me-inside-of-me: "Hey, are you okay?"

No answer.

Me-inside-of-me: "Seriously? You're so pitiful that you can't even answer yourself now? Oh wow. You've crossed the line, buddy."

Still no answer.

Me-inside-of-me: (somewhat concerned)

"Oh yeah? Well... Um... How can I make you feel better? You're still Asian, right? Come on, cheer up. No one can take your Asian-ness away from you.

You're like the sun! With happy rays of sunshine!"

Still no answer.

At this point, since I didn't respond, the me-inside-of-me started get kind of hateful and mean...

Me-inside-of-me: "You know what? FINE. You be that way. I'll just sit here and make fun of you. Like I said, you're Asian.

And you're like the sun!

That's positive, right?

WRONG.

YOU'RE JUST LIKE THE SUN -- YOU'RE YELLOW, YOU SUCK, AND NO ONE LIKES TO LOOK AT YOUR FOR MORE THAN A SPLIT SECOND."

I was too sad to respond. You can't see it now, but the corner is drying my tears of useless self-pity.

I start to ignore my me-inside-of-me... and she gets more and more angry.

Me-inside-of-me: "Okay, that was kind of mean. I take it back. Do you want to see something really sad though? It's rather awful.

GO GET A MIRROR, LOSER.

HAHAHA AND NO, I DON'T ACTUALLY TAKE THE JOKE BACK. IF I COULD, I WOULD GO BACK IN TIME... JUST TO SAY IT TO YOU AGAIN.

What are you going to do?

Cry about it?

TOO LATE."

Me-inside-of-me: (suddenly different)

Okay, I really am sorry...

I'll make it better.

Here's a fortune cookie as a truce.

I'll even open it up for you and read you the fortune since your eyes are all watery and filled with tears.

Me-inside-of-me: (continued) "Ahem. Your fortune says:

You will soon be given an award!...

THE AWARD FOR THE BIGGEST LOSER IN THE HISTORY OF LOSERVILLE WHERE ONLY THE LOSIEST LOSERS RESIDE.

Oh, well. At least you still have your cookie?

WRONG AGAIN, IDIOT.

I ALREADY CRUSHED IT ALL. NOW IT REFLECTS WHAT THE SORRY THING YOU CALL YOUR SOUL LOOKS LIKE.

Then from there, it just all went downhill...

Me: (sniffle)

Me-inside-of-me: "Aww... wait, are you... are you CRYING right now?"

Me: "...maybe......."

Me-inside-of-me: "That's just so.... STUPID. WAY TO GO, GENIUS."

Me: "Shut up! I can cry if I want to!"

Me-inside-of-me: "WOW, REALLY? REALLY. YOU ALREADY SEEM TO HAVE A HARD TIME SEEING BECAUSE YOU'RE 'EYES' ARE SO DANG SQUINTY. Now you're... CRYING? GREAT. NOW YOU REALLY CAN'T SEE. Why don't you just go sing a sad song, Stevie Wonder.

Oh wait,

NO ONE CARES.

You'll probably sound like a dying whale stuck in sand anyways.

Like Seabiscuit."

Me: "But... but... that doesn't even make any... Seabiscuit was a hors--"

Me-inside-of-me: "IT DOESN'T MATTER. IT'S DEAD. JUST LIKE YOUR SOUL."

So! I hope you've enjoyed my pictures that demonstrate the vicious, endless cycle in my life! Okay, the main reason I did this was because I didn't want to do my homework for Econ. BUT, I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did while making it. If you know anything about me, you should know that I like making people laugh. So, this is not something that I made so people would feel all sad. Like I said, I WANTED people to laugh at this. Or at least smile.

Tell Me a Story

"Tell me a story."

It's such a simple sentence. It almost comes across as a question, a request.

There are good story-tellers and bad experience-sharers in life.

For example:

Great -- "Once upon a time, in a far away land, there was a little girl named Snow White... (-a while later-) and they lived happily ever after!"

Good -- "One time, my mom and I were swimming... (-10 minutes later-) and then she just punched the shark! Like right then and there! In the face! It was pretty cash."

Bad -- "Well, I woke up this morning and... (-5 minutes later-) then I got to school... (-5 more minutes later-) and then I wore my favorite scarf that my mom got me... (-3 and a half periods later-) and then I saw Mel. And she looked AMAZING. I think I'm going to marry her. Or Victoria... then again, I've ALWAYS had a thing for Emily. My life is just sooo much harder than everyone else's. Why does no one love me? Waaaah."

Terrible -- "Did I ever tell you about that one time when I told a story about telling a story?" ...What?

Offensive -- "Okay, FINE. I'll tell you a story. ... Once upon a time, there was an... Asian giraffe named Becky. She lived in the land of Ding Dong. Annnnddd..." "No."

So,

I'm tired of blogging about useless things that are going on PRESENTLY, so I've decided to tell YOU a story.

How this will end depends on how I feel as I finish eating my ice cream. Oh, shut up. You're just jealous that I get to sit here and wallow in self-pity. ...Actually, I'm just rather bored is all.

Have I ever told you about the time Kelsey turned into an angora rabbit?

Or the time I gave birth to myself?

Oh, yeah. Probably not. Because that NEVER HAPPENED. That's the beauty of story-telling. Not all stories are real. Especially the ones that are written on bathroom stalls.

Like, "i cant bleive dat u call her fatt. we all kno it wuz u who started that shet so quite gettin all up in my grill gurl." or something to that effect. I mean, come on. Girl, please. We all know that Shajaneshiequiasandra was the one spreading rumors about herself. (Try to pronounce that, I dare you.)

Anyways, this is the story. Of a girl. Named Hecky Ban. What an original name.

Wow, she looks disgusting.

Random sidetrack... I went to Facebook to get this photo, and I didn't notice this in the comments until today. Kelsey, can you please explain to me what this means?

I'm not really sure.

Anyways, this girl... you know what, no. I'm not going to sit here and write a story. If you want to hear one, come find me. Or read a random story and replace the character's name with mine.

Might I suggest this one?

Or this one:

Either way, I'm too lazy to type out a story. So go ahead. Make up a story. Better yet, live everyday to the fullest and write YOUR own story. You decide what happens with your life. You're not happy? Fine. Then do something about it. Change it. Don't just watch everything pass by you -- then wish that it had happened differently. At the same time, don't live in the past. Once it's written, it can't be undone. BUT, that doesn't mean that the entire story has to end that way. Each mistake is a chapter, not an ending. Until you're satisfied, don't ever close your book. The possibilities are endless. Numerous blank pages await you. Don't end your story just yet. Live TODAY. Change TODAY as it's happening. Don't expect tomorrow to fix today. Don't let yesterday ruin today. Okay, I'm done now.

Lastly, I want to take the time to wish Emily Ann Arnold a happy 18th birthday. Here's a picture of her:

You think she looks good in this picture? You should see her smile. You haven't seen anything yet.

All the Little Things

I'm in a terribly emotional mood. And I shouldn't be blogging. OH WELL. Imma big girl. I'll do what I want.

Don't read this if you're smiling. Seriously.

It's all of the little things in life.

It's the things that slowly pass by... but seem to be gone in a blink when you look back.

The closer graduation gets... the more I'm starting to look back. And blink.

Whenever my grandmother came to visit for Christmas, along with almost EVERYONE else on my mom's side, my heart broke. The grandma who used to babysit my sisters and I, the one who would make us laugh, the one who was once invincible -- walked into our house using a cane. All like 17 of us watched her walk in. For the first time in my life, I saw my grandmother with a cane. She was also being supported by my uncle. I wanted her to hug me and pick me up like she used to... but she couldn't. I wanted to rush to her and completely tackle in her in a huge bear hug since I hadn't seen her in a few years, but I couldn't. Instead, I just watched silently as she slowly came into our house. I bit my lip so I wouldn't cry like an idiot. I waited for her to approach me. My mom gently pushed me forward and said, "Mom, this is Suh-Hee." It killed me inside when I saw my grandmother's face light up. She couldn't believe that I was this tall and that I was so pretty and that I was taller and that I was so grown up now and that I was taller and that she barely recognized me and that I was taller. (...Is it seriously shocking people that I'm over 5 feet now?)

I waited for her to walk over to me and give me a hug. I lightly hugged her at first. One of those gentle, awkward, barely touching hugs. I felt like she was a new born baby that I had to delicately handle. Then, much to my surprise. She crushed me. She held me so tight. It's like it was God's way of letting me know, "Yes, there's still a tiger fighting inside of her. She's still here." I let a couple tears escape as I hugged her back more firmly. I know I sound like a sap. But shut up. I love my family. I would do anything for them. Honest.

Throughout her stay, however, it was apparent that time had taken its toll. She rested a lot more than I remembered in the past. She couldn't go out with us a few of the times because it would have been too much for her. She asked the same question over and over throughout each day. She asked me questions as if I were still in middle school. For dinner on Christmas night, my grandmother said a prayer. As she prayed, I couldn't help but start crying. My grandmother and mother have always been such strong prayer warriors, and that was something that was obviously never going to change. People that my mom have prayed for will tell you stories that will blow you away. Like legit. As my grandmother prayed that evening, I silently shed a few tears. I felt like a fool -- until I looked up at the end, that is. Turns out that I'm not the only one who cried. Go figure.

I'm gonna stop talking about my grandma now so that I don't cry again. That would be like the third time today.

My father. My dear father. The man who has been helping me with my college applications.

He's changed. Obviously. I mean, yes. We all have changed. But I realized today just how much he's changed. I've spent all morning with him in his office -- like I used to when I was a kid. I used to get so super excited about tagging along. I would even figure out ways to sneak past my mom so that I could go to work with my dad. My dad would laugh and "lie" to my mom and I ducked in the backseat. My mom would just give the look and my dad would shrug.

I used to grab my dad's legs when he tried to go on business trips. My dad's normally in the country for about half of the year, at the most. Anyways, I used to cry whenever my dad was gone. I wouldn't be able to sleep at night unless I climbed into my mom's bed. Which I did this past time that he was gone.... IT WAS ONE TIME, OKAY? I LOVE MY MOM. DON'T JUDGE ME.

Anyways, sitting here, I notice that my dad looks... tired. Kind of like my grandma. His hair looks grayer, thinner. He sighs a lot more often than I remember. He picks up his paper, squints at it, then puts on his glasses. He used to have perfect vision and never need glasses. He used to sneak me chocolate while he worked... now he tells me to quit stealing all his candy because I'll get obese. (Thanks, Dad.) I used to hide under his desk and pop out to scare him... now I'm afraid I'll make his heart stop. Right now, he reminds me of the old man from Up. He's got a sweater-vest thing, and he just looks sad. He's slightly hunched over. He's tired. He's slower. He's got more things pressing on his heart now. I can feel the burden on him... and it hurts. My dad and I have had our differences and struggles over the years, and still do, but at the end of the day, he's my dad. And nothing will change that.

There's no way that your heart doesn't melt at that.

It's like the beginning of the movie when the old man's entire life passes by in about 10 minutes. It breaks my heart. I look at the pictures around my dad's office. Pictures of me wearing my dad's graduation robe and hat that's too big for me. Pictures of Phoebe with the Easter bunny. Pictures of my mom holding Pris when she was first born. Pictures of my mom and dad peaking around opposite sides of the same tree on their wedding day, smiling. Time flies. And never stops. People leave. People change. I'm leaving soon, hopefully. I'll grow. I'll learn. But I'll always be my parents' baby. I'll always be my grandmother's little President/Boss/Captain, as she calls me. And I'll always be God's daughter.

Lastly,

I'll forever be myself. I promise. I love you.

Playback 2011.

You people.

Yes, you. No, I'm not just talking about the people who have blogs. I'm talking about EVERYONE. And no, I am seriously not trying to make fun of anyone. You should know me by now. I'm not a mean person. I just think that, since everyone is doing these month-by-month recaps... I should NOT do one. Does that make sense?

It's sort of hilarious really.

Everyone knows EXACTLY where January 1st is located on the calendar. But for some unknown reason, everyone acts completely surprised like 3 days before New Years. Even if they've been counting down since like... the day their mother was born.

They're still like, "OH MY GOSH, NEW YEARS IS IN LIKE ONE DAY. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN. I DON'T UNDERSTAND. WHY AM I READING THIS IN SUCH A LOUD VOLUME IN MY HEAD? EVEN THOUGH SHE POINTED IT OUT, IT'S ALL STILL SO LOUD IN MY HEAD. OH MY GOSH. I TOTALLY FORGOT THAT IT'S ALMOST 2012. Wait, no I didn't."

And then here's the kicker, suddenly everyone wants to recap EVERYTHING that happened... since like January 1st. Even if it's things they swore that they wanted to forget or that they would try their very best to forget... they bring it back up. It's all a part of starting the new year off "right". I've even had face-to-face conversations with people who clearly state, "Hmm... the most embarrassing moment of 2011 that I wanted to completely forget was _____________." It's like: Oh, here. Let me tell you the ENTIRE STORY so that you'll know. Because obviously you'll forget once it's officially 2012. Everyone know that people's memories get wiped at the start of every year.

It's 2:05 A.M. and I can't sleep. AT ALL. So my mind is a tad bit more fried than usual. It's a good thing I'm not stressed out at all! Man, I'm so glad that I have the energy to be completely, 100% wide-awake at TWO IN THE MORNING and BLOG ABOUT IT. Can you feel the sarcasm, Em?

.....

Anyways.

Here's my official New Year post:

January/February/March/April/May/June/July/August/September/October/December:

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

YES, this photo has absolutely nothing to do with New Years. BUT, if you did NOT laugh or at least smile at that... you need to learn to loosen up a bit. Like seriously. It's 2 in the morning, I just got done watching like 4 sad movies today, and I've seen that picture before -- and I STILL think it's amusing.

Scroll up and look at it again.

No, seriously. Look at it again. It'll take you like two seconds to scroll back up.

Hehehe.

Instead of posting a month-by-month detailed post, I've decided to post that picture instead. Why? Because that's the type of person I am. Yes, I'm sentimental. But I know that I couldn't possibly do this past year the justice of writing about it all. I've had some amazing memories and some... not so great ones. But haven't we all? I'm NOT going to recap drama. I'm NOT going to talk about the things that pissed me off. I'm also NOT going to try to talk about the fun times. Why? There's no point. If I can look back on the up's of this year (that outnumber the bad times) and smile, I don't see the need to share every detail. I can't possibly relay what the wonderful times were like from my perspective, and I'm not going to make the memory less awesome in my mind by trying to type it all out. Plus, you probably don't care about every little story anyways. C'mon. Let's be real.

LET ME PAUSE to say that I have thoroughly enjoyed reading other people's posts though. They're adorable and touched my heart. Sincerely. Don't let this post make you think that I didn't enjoy them. I just wanted to be different. That's all. PLUS, I'd probably go insane if I went on Facebook and scrolled all the way down to freaking January -- just to write a blogpost. You have so much patience and dedication and time - and I respect that. Or if you're like Kayla, you just have nothing better to do. (Yes, Kayla. I'm making fun of you. On the internet. On my blog that I know for a fact several people -- including you -- read.)

So, I skipped November up there earlier. Don't believe me? Go check.

If you actually looked, I'm ashamed. Have some faith in me, eh?

Since I skipped it, here it is.

November:

1. My birthday (which was 11/11/2011). I actually didn't even make a wish on 11:11 P.M. Why? Because I know God has a plan. And I had my family and friends and every else that I needed. ... and because I started to get super paranoid that if I made a MAJOR wish, it would actually come true. But like all screwed up. Like Final Destination or whatever. Anyways, just focus on the God part. I didn't make a wish because I had Jesus. That sounds better, right? Right? ...

2. Thanksgiving. Traditions die hard. And so does your body. If you eat food and watch movies for 8 hours with your older sister like you do every year. In a dark room. That you never leave. Just... yeah.

3. I applied to my first college! Don't laugh, that's mean.

4. ...Veteran's Day?

5. Um... um... ummmm.... yay November?.....

6. Oh, the fall play happened! Where I got one of the main roles... who was an idiot. Yeah. I could delete number 5 and put this there. But I won't. Because I'm lazy. Even though actually by explaining that I'm lazy, I typed more. And put in more effort. I'm still doing it. ....

7. I'm running out of things, so I'll just post some funny pictures. Okay? Cool.

So, there. If you're still reading... I've successfully wasted your time, and I hope you have a lovely Happy New Year! And just because it's 2012 doesn't mean that you'll completely disregard/forget about 2011. Also, I'm not making New Year resolutions. Actually, none that I'm going to openly declare. C'mon on. I'm not THAT dedicated to the new year that bring a fresh start and loads of potential. It's not like the beginning of the year is an opportune time to do these things and start over ..... wait a second --

Tell me you love me? Please?

-Bee.

P.s. IT IS NOW 3:05 A.M.

The Land of Hipsters

I am officially a hipster. No, not really. In all seriousness though, I spent about 4 hours at Starbucks today. FOUR hours. Why? Oh, you know. The usual. Last minute college essays. Dad was all, "Oh, don't worry. You've got plenty of time. DO NOT start on the extra essays until I get home from Korea. I'm Jackie Chan, and I know what I'm doing and blah, blah, blah, -- ..." Can you tell I'm a bit stressed? Actually the LAST thing I want to do/should be doing right now is writing. OH WELL. I'll be fine. Oh, don't give me that.

.....

I'M PERFECTLY FINE, OK?!

Now, I'm sure that all of us have been so Starbucks at some point in our lives. I'm also sure that you've probably noticed the different types of people there.

WELL, since I was there for FOUR HOURS today, I decided to blog about certain types of people. Just for fun.

Ahem.

This is what happens whenever someone goes by themselves:

Every trip to Starbucks starts out innocent.

You walk in.

Take in the smell of fresh coffee.

Everybody acts intensely busy or important... even if they're not.

You don't make eye contact with anyone.

You try to take a subtle glance at the menu. (You don't want to seem like you don't know what you're ordering already.)

And are SUPER DETERMINED to sound like a pro whenever you order your drink.

You look like a kid setting out on his/her first adventure.

Okay, fine. If you're like me -- then you're yellow. SO hilarious.

Better? Meanie face.

Anyways, you're patiently waiting in line.

You check your phone for just the perfect amount of time so you seem busy like everyone else.

You put your phone in your pocket -- only to regret doing so.

You can't just whip it back out -- NO, now you must wait.

Pull it out too soon, and you'll look desperate.

So you cooly wait... and wait... and...

OKAY IT'S BEEN AT LEAST 47 SECONDS NOW SO YOU PULL IT BACK OUT.

Then you casually check... EVERYTHING.

I'm talking Facebook, Twitter, texts... everything.

And of course -- this is like the one time where NO ONE is texting you.

You get like like 15 messages before walking inside...

... then NOTHING. Nada. It's like everyone all of a sudden was like, "Oh, now she's not busy. She has nothing to do except check her phone while waiting in line. ...I guess I'll stop bothering her now."

THEN you figure out what you want...

Yes.

NO.

Well... yes.

No.

Definitely maybe.

Do I want...?

No.

Wait, yes.

GOD WHY IS THIS SO HARD.

Yes.

FINE, I'LL JUST GET A WATER.

Wait, I'm at Starbucks. NO.

Okay, I got it.

... I think.

Okay, so you decide on a caramel brulée latte. (Only professionals should order this. You'll see why.)

What size should you get?

The longer the line is... the bigger you start to think.

Don't lie. You know it's true.

THEN, you get to the register. And you're SUPER determined to sound cool when you order.

You look at the lady.

You have to get this just right.

Now, what did I decide on?

Ah, yes. A caramel brulée latte. Like a BOSS.

You look at the lady again.

You think to yourself, "Now, does she seem like she would pronounce 'caramel' like 'keh-rah-mel' or like 'karhmel' or like 'krml'. Maybe she thinks that like the 'c' is silent or something. Gah, I don't know. I DON'T KNOW HER LIFE, OK?!"

So you take a deep breath.

The chick smiles at you and says, "What can I get for you?"

Pff. This chick's totally a 'keh-rah-mel' type of girl.

You say, "Um, I would like one grande keh-rah-mel brulée latte."

Except you're trying way too hard to sound like a pro.

So it comes out like, "I would like agrancaraléette."

Everyone knows that ordering at Starbucks means that you talk faster.

But, it's okay, I mean, c'mon. She's a total pro too.

So she's all like, "Is that all for you today?"

You smile and nod. You start to mentally pat yourself on you back... WAIT--

She confirms, "So that's one grande karhmel brulée latte.

SHOOT. She was a 'karhmel'. Not a 'keh-rah-mel'. Idiot.

You mentally kick yourself as you move out of line.

But you still smile and move on like a boss.

MOVING ON:

There are several different types of people that you run into at a Starbucks:

THE LITTLE KID:

Ah, yes. This is the typical, under-11-years-old child. Mommy FINALLY let him order his own drink. Like a grown up. He has a wrinkled 5 dollar bill in his hand. He looks at the menu like it's magic -- kind of like he's dead with his eyes open. -- wait is he... nope, he blinked. Okay, we're good. He looks like this:

He goes up there. And sounds like this, "Ummmmmmm hhhhhmmmmmmmm, I would liiiiiike ...... hmmmm..... -10 minutes later- I would like one medium hot cocoa."

There are just SO many things wrong with that sentence. But hey, I won't judge.

THE SUPER INTENSE LADY:

When I say super intense, I mean SUPER INTENSE. She's the lady who has an expensive purse, two cell phones, business attire, a fax machine in her back-pocket -- the WHOLE sha-bang.

She's all, "Yes, I would like a grande chai tea latte with soy milk and -an hour later after giving super specific instructions- with a hint of caramel and half a teaspoon of whip cream. Oh, and no foam." And she makes your order look pathetic. What a tool.

THE NOT-SO-INTENSE GUY

This guy has the typical striped-shirt, nice pants look going on. He's got one cell phone... in a case... on a holster... on his belt. Slightly-expensive looking watch. He's the normal dad.

Why, yes. That is indeed Rick Perry. ... hehehe.

He gets up there and smiles. All he says is, "The usual, please." And voila. He's done. Show off.

THE PHONE GUY:

There's always that one dude who thinks that his life is so important. He has to be on the phone 24/7 to handle business. He talks the ENTIRE time that he's in the line.

WOW, what a creeper.

He gets up to the counter. He's STILL on the phone. Is he?... Yep, he's trying to use sign language.While pretending to pay attention to what the person on the phone is saying. What the-- she actually got his order? Seriously?

It's okay, though. He'll probably spill his coffee when he tries to add sugar to it.

THE WATER-DRINKER:

Need I say more? Believe it or not, there are people who go to Starbucks...and try to order water. WATER. What are you, a plant? Geez. That's disgusting.

This is all they get.

They're all, "May I have a glass of water?" -awkward pause- "Um... you want a... water?" "Yes, please." "-to fellow worker- Hey, do we actually sell water here?"

THE HIPSTER:

Ah, yes. The hipster. Every Starbucks comes with one, two, or forty of these. Typical striped-hoddie, dark jean, (glasses optional,) laptop-carrying, headphone-wearing -- hipster. They have that I-shave-but-just-enough-so-it-looks-like-I-actually-don't look. You never actually SEE them ordering coffee, but you're pretty sure that they live off of it. And they LIVE at Starbucks.

I have no idea why I blogged about this... Oh, well. It was fun. I know it was long, but hey, I included pictures this time. I hope I made you laugh or at least smile.

Smile,

B.

Letting Go of Myself

DISCLAIMER: If you read blogs for the sake of being entertained, skip this one. No, seriously. If you read to learn about gossip and who-hates-who, don’t even go past this sentence. I really won’t be offended if you don’t read this one. (You know that I can’t actually tell whether or not you read my stuff, right?) If you are one of those people who read blogs out of boredom, then you should REALLY skip this one. If you aren’t serious about certain things, you’ll despise this post and think it’s stupid. I am well aware that the majority, if not all, of the people who read this will think that I am pathetic (and that this entire blog is pointless). I don’t care. This has been trapped inside of me long enough.

SECOND DISCLAIMER: Anytime I use the words “you”, “we”, “us”, or etc., I am more than likely actually referring to myself. You’ll see what I mean.

So, all disclaimers aside… I see that you’re still reading. I hope that this means you genuinely want to read this. Don’t force yourself to read something just for the sake of reading it. This is something that has been on my heart. I won’t sleep until I finally type all of this out.

Now. This is my question to you:

How did we end up here?

This is something I continue to ask myself a lot. Here represents the place where you don’t want to be. For every person, here can mean something different. For me, here represents the hole that I recede to in my life (mainly referring to my spiritual life). It’s a hole that I can easily fall into but can’t just hop out of. Sometimes I feel trapped and hopeless... so I quit fighting. Or, if I do decide to try to escape, here is the place that I cry out from with tears streaming down my face. I get down on my knees and give all that I have to pleading for help and forgiveness. Here is a place built with insecurities and hurt. It’s very walls are made out of fear and scars. I don’t know what exactly it’s like for you, but I’m sure that you get the general gist of it.

Here’s the thing:

We don’t get here by accident.

It’s not like, “Oh! Dear me, I accidentally tripped into this giant hole of depression and fear. Silly me, I’m such a klutz! Hehehe, whoops!” No, that’s ridiculous. Like a famous Casting Crown song says:

“… It's a slow fade when you give yourself away

It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray

Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid

When you give yourself away

People never crumble in a day

It's a slow fade, it's a slow fade…”

We get to this place that we loathe and fear through choices that we make. They’re not necessarily monumental decisions either, even though they could be. All of the little compromises that we make in our daily lives build up to this. All of the sins that we commit, whether big or small, hang on to us. They drag us down… and here’s the kicker, we let them. We let ourselves be completely consumed by this world. We choose our words and actions, and they can be detrimental.

It’s like we slowly let ourselves wear down and spiral further and further from where we should be… and we don’t seem to notice until we’re so far from our starting point that we feel lost. It’s like by the time we finally look up to see where we are, we feel hopeless. We start to say things that we normally wouldn’t say. We do things that hurt ourselves or others who care about us. We change. We block people out. We block God out. We become a hollowed out person who feels like he/she is a lost cause. We do things that we regret. We numb ourselves… then we become desperate to feel something. Anything.

We lose sight of the truth. We start to believe whatever we need to in order to get to tomorrow. We fight everyday, just to see the light of the next morning. We cry. We give up.

But God never gives up. He never leaves us.

I know that those two sentences are easier to accept and agree with when things are easy. But those statements are always true. If there’s one thing I’ve learned through all of my struggles in life, it’s that God is here. In that place where you feel completely alone and hopeless, God is holding you close. When you cry, God is there catching your tears. He is the voice of truth. In all of the chaos, he stands strong and resolute. When you can’t stand, He holds you up. This world will fade away, but God will always reign over everything. The things that nothing in this world can give you… God can. I can honestly say that the moments that I’ve been the happiest in my life were moments where I felt God.

The next question we ask ourselves is:

How do we get out of here?

Now, this is where I think I go wrong most, if not all, of the time. The majority of us in this world tend to live in a cycle. We screw up. We pray. We expect everything to be okay again. What kind of life is that? How can we say we love God but continue to live in such a frustrating cycle? If we love God so much, why do we settle? Why do we not change? Why do we only give a part of ourselves but expect all of God in return? How can we possibly expect one prayer to be our saving grace for the rest of our lives?

We can't put one quarter in a gumball machine and expect to get a million gumballs.

Our relationship with God is not a one-time deal. It’s not some contract we sign then forget about. We can’t have anger and perversion inside of our hearts and expect Jesus to come and live inside of it. Like any other relationship, we have to constantly work at our bond with Christ. We can’t ignore our friends for a long time, then come back and expect to pick up right where we left off. No matter how close two people are, they’ll eventually grow apart if they don’t make an effort to include each other in his/her life. If we want Him in our lives, we have to strive to make him a part of it.

We can’t ask Him to catch us if we aren’t willing to let go. We can’t grab at Him if our hands are full of worldly, sinful things. No lasting relationship is built in just one day. Sure, that initial beginning only takes a moment. But what defines that relationship from that point forward is the effort and love and care that is put forth. There is no in-between. But there is a hell and a heaven. God has given us the chance to love and worship and follow. Whether or not we choose to take advantage of what has been given to us defines our consequences.

I don’t want to live my life having to question whether or not I am doing everything right. I want to live with passion and overflowing love. I want to go to bed with a smile on my face. I want to make the most of my life. I want to live. But I know that in order to get to where I ultimately want to be, it begins today. And it won’t end tomorrow. In order to create a strong foundation, I must place brick by brick. If we want our relationship with God to last, we must continue to mold it everyday. All of the little things that are wrong in my life need to be fixed. I need to change. I need to give myself completely in order to be transformed. And that starts now. We might not have tomorrow. That’s scary, but it’s reality.

There is not a single soaring skyscraper out there that was built in one day.

Skyscrapers are separate from the buildings around them. They soar to touch the sky. Everyone looks up to them. Even if they are among other gargantuan buildings in a crowded city, they stand out. They stand resolute. They fight the wind and storms. They provide shelter to those in need. People can see them from afar and they admire them. I want to be a skyscraper. I want to rise for God. I want others to see me and see the great works of God reflected. I want to give God the glory that He rightfully deserves. I want to do amazing things for Him. But in order to do that, I must live my everyday life in a reverent way. I must protect my body, God’s temple. I have to separate myself from worldly things, like John the Baptist did. He lived apart from the rest of the sinful world in order to serve God. I can’t ask God to use me if I’m not fit for His work.

So, does your life reflect what you want?

Are you living your life?

Do you have a place in your heart ready for God?

What are you willing to do for Him today?

Are you living like there is no tomorrow?

I dare you to move.

Why am I so distrac-- DID YOU GET A HAIRCUT?!

DISCLAIMER: The following post is extremely personal. The only reason I am posting this is to hopefully use this as a way of conquering my fears and obstacles. You may already know these things about me – if you do, you should be proud that I’m willing to finally try to come to terms with it by means other than keeping everything to myself. Lately, I’ve been starting to try to pray about things more and talk about things more to a certain extent. It’s been weird and hard for me, but I have to do this. Ultimately, I am doing this for myself.

There are numerous things in this world that I can’t describe.

For example, I can’t describe the way that my best friend can make me completely melt. She has the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen in my life and staring at them can make my heart stop, I swear. I feel like God place her directly in my life, and I am thankful for her every day. Without a word, she can make me feel as if I’m somewhere else. She makes me want to be the best that I could possibly be and more. I hope you know who you are. If you don’t, then I’m a terrible friend.

There are just some things that I can’t explain.

No matter how many times I delete these sentences or reword them, I can’t relay what’s inside my mind.

I wish that I could just pop both you and me into my mind and give you a personal tour.

Ever since I was a little kid, I LOVED being outside. The only strictly “indoor” activity that I could concentrate on was solving puzzles. Any kind. Like jigsaw puzzles and junk. I started doing puzzles at a really early age, and I could easily finish a 1,000 piece puzzle by the time I was 9 or 10. Most of the time, however, I would much, much rather be outside running around than locked away inside somewhere reading a book.

When I read, unless it’s my “type” of book, I can’t concentrate. At all. I can read the same page fifty bazillion times and still have no idea what the main character’s name is. When I take notes, I normally have to be playing with something. My hands will always be folding origami or twirling a pen or playing with my rings. I hardly ever actually take notes. I can normally just listen to a lecture and absorb information by asking questions and making eye contact with my teachers.

Yes, I just rambled about something that was somewhat random. I actually do this a lot when I try to write blog posts. Truthfully, I delete about half of the paragraphs/words in my posts because they don’t pertain to the topic at hand. I don’t know why I let myself write them to begin with. I just kind of get carried away I guess. You can ask my closest friends. I’ll talk in circles all day if you let me. I’ll analyze everything and try to find a logical explanation for everything.

I literally just got up and walked out of my room… only to wonder what I was doing. I’m not sure what just happened. Trust me, my attention span is actually way smaller than you think. I’m such a kid at heart; it’s not even funny.

Okay. Focus, Becky. Come on, Bee. Focus. Whew. Anyways:

When I take tests… I pretty much die inside. My mind blanks completely. I start to get really nervous. My eyes have trouble focusing. My heart rate shoots up. I feel like I’m going to explode inside. I can’t sit still. I fidget and tap my pencil and shake my leg and drive myself insane. I sometimes start to sweat or breathe weird. It’s actually extremely embarrassing. I feel like I’m going to cry or run around or scream. Even just thinking about it now, I’m starting to feel anxious. I apologize if my sentences are run-ons or grammatically confusing. Anytime I take a test at school or work on something that requires concentration, I normally always have headphones in.

Why? Because music is my therapist.

This is the part that I can’t explain very well. For some reason, music has always been a calming factor in my life. Whether I’m playing it or listening to it, my mind calms down. I can literally spend hours just playing music by myself. Even if it’s just repetitively playing a passage from a difficult concerto on my violin to get it perfect, I’m patient. I can go for quite a long time without ever saying a word -- as long as I’m playing something. It’s as if music can stop time for me. Whenever I play music, I become myself. Not what anyone else says or thinks I should be. I’m ME. And just me. I create what I feel inside. All of the words and feelings that are trapped inside flow out. If you ever want to feel what’s inside my heart, just ask me to play something for you. It doesn’t matter on what instrument, you can feel me. I promise. This probably sounds strange, but it’s true. You can tell. According to other people, there’s a certain way that I act/look when I’m playing music. I would honestly die without music.

My mind is a contradicting paradox. I either notice everything … or I’m so busy/distracted that I can’t remember anything. Allow me to explain.

When I was a kid, I remember a specific event that happened at the church my dad used to pastor in Korea. Someone called my mother asking her to come to the children’s nursery right away. I, of course, followed.

When we got there, this lady was freaking out. She explained that there was a small needle that had gotten lost in the nursery. Most of the kids were barefoot, and she was starting to worry that someone would get hurt.

To this day, I honestly can’t tell you what else she said. I know that that sounds awful, and I would never do something like this if it were to happen in the present. As she started to explain what had happened, I tuned her out. Why? My eyes had already scanned the entire room -- and found the needle. I searched all the logical places it could be. It was lying about 10 feet away from where we were all standing. I remember pointing at it and loudly declaring, “MOM, I FOUND IT.” I’m pretty sure that I cut off the lady mid-sentence, but like I said, I have no idea what she was even saying.

From where we were standing, my mom and the lady couldn’t see it. They thought I was trying to be dumb. So, I walked over and picked it up. “SEE, I TOLD YOU, MOM. 서희 DO GOOD. …may I get some ice cream now?”

I could probably tell you things about yourself that you’ve never noticed. I remember things that happen or stuff that people tell me -- and for some reason, they’re shocked whenever I repeat it back to them a long time after they’ve forgotten that they told me to begin with. It’s both a blessing and a curse. I remember details that others don’t even notice. Even if it’s something I just happen to glance at, I can tell you everything that was there. I construct a picture in my mind. Even when I’m trying to sort things out logically, I can close my eyes and build it in my head. I can scatter my notes around the room and walk around from sheet to sheet. I’ll not only learn what was on the pages, but I will usually memorize where exactly each sentence was located. Don’t get me wrong though. I know for a fact that I’m not perfect. And my mind is definitely FAR from perfect.

ON THE OTHER HAND, there are times where I feel like I’m about to explode. My mind is restless. I can’t seem to focus on anything. If you feel like I’m having a hard time focusing, the best way to snap me out of it is by grabbing my face and forcing me to make eye contact with you. Because if I truly am zoned out… I won’t notice the things around me. I’m like a little kid, I’m telling you. Especially when it comes to sleeping at night. There is just so much on my mind. I can’t sleep at night anymore. Even if I “head to bed” at like 9:00, I won’t actually be asleep til about 2:00. Every night. I’m seriously not exaggerating.

BUT, the explanation for all of that is another post for another day. I’ve already rambled on too much. So yes, this post was pointless. I’ll post a more “thought-provoking” piece soon. I just did this because I had too much on my mind, and I figured I might as well talk about something useless.

Oh look! A cow!

-Becky