September 16, 2019

Four Letters

Love. How does a small four letter word elicit, give, and take so much from us? Not once, not twice, but for the entirety of our lives. Since birth, we move towards love in the same way that a plant drifts towards the sun. We gravitate towards love, spend our whole lives trying to find it, describe it, be enveloped and embraced by it. At times, we even lose ourselves in the pursuit and wonderment of something as elusive as love. The joy, the confusion, especially the pain that love brings produces such a strong, deep visceral reaction as if even our body can't stand the weight and magnitude of this word. This word, this short, one syllable word hangs onn the tip of our tongues and over our heads. The more you look at love, think about it, say it out loud, the more overwhelming it becomes to define it.

L-o-v-e—made up of two vowels and two consonants, the word itself is so evenly split down the middle. When I attempt to define love, I'm often stumped to even begin the process of putting words to a feeling that's so indescribable. A self-proclaimed romantic at heart, I’ve fallen in and out of love a few times with different people and places. I can define it in terms of what I had wish I had gotten out of those times, what I thought I needed in order to feel complete in that moment. How I hoped that love would complete the mess of a being that I was, and still is. But all of those definitions seem to fall flat, barely scraping the essence and full range of a word like love.

This seemingly tiny word, love, captivates us and holds our attention for a lifetime and possibly beyond. It may have even cradled us before we came to be in this lifetime. It has to, otherwise how does it drive us and moves us in so many ways, in almost every way possible? And how we blindly follow it, allowing it to move us forward and back, taking us down paths we never once considered. To heaven and far beneath to hell.

If we can't define it, can we truly feel it to the degree in which we're all striving towards? Or is it because it's undefinable, that because its essence is rooted in the indescribable that we feel it so? Perhaps this intoxicating, mind-altering, "feel the need all the way down in our bones, in our nerves type" feeling is some sort of otherworldly magic, gifted to us to guide us. To show us a way of living, of thinking beyond the numbers in our bank accounts and LinkedIn job titles. Maybe the meaning of love is to find others that share your same meaning. To find souls that intrinsically can see, breathe, and simply be in that light, that softness.

And so, I have no conclusion for you, no way to end this conscious stream of thoughts. These words spilled out of me, perhaps empowered by the full moon, Friday the 13th, or by my own heartbreak. All I hope is that perhaps this piece made you think, made you feel a little something. Or if not, I hope you enjoyed it at the very least.

photo credit: samantha yi

March 11, 2018


I remember back to that winter break years ago, when I came home from college and was obsessed with Breaking Bad. It was around five in the morning, I had stayed up all night binge watching season 1. You came rolling out and I already knew that you were about to make oatmeal--your meals are the same, day in and day out. I hear a crash in the kitchen and rushed to see dry oatmeal splattered all over the floor. The can slipped out of your weathered fingers. I looked up and saw the panic rushing to your face. "It's okay! I'll clean it up--no one has to know." Seeing your features soften as quiet relief washed over made me chuckle. In moments like this, you go from being my grandmother to a precious child that I want to fiercely protect.

It's almost a year to date, I remember that morning so vividly. Again, I was up at five in the morning, this time rushing to catch a flight to New York for work. My phone had a flurry of missed calls, texts, and voicemails. I heard you were rushed to the ER, that you were having troubles breathing.

My heart dropped, somersaulted, and flopped to the pit of my stomach. I froze. 

Everything turned out to be fine, no one was worried. False alarm they said, go on your trip. And so I went. A week went by, I went to see you in the hospital as soon as I came home. You were still here. I remember the aunties brushing your hair and testing you, seeing if you could recall our family tree. Annoyed by all the fuss, you just wanted to eat your jello in peace. You even asked for seconds. My heart relaxed.

The second phone call came shortly later. As the words flowed to my ear, I instinctively laughed. There's no way, I just saw her. People aren't just here one second and gone the next. I have never cried more in my whole entire life, I didn't know people were capable of such immense sadness. I cried so much my whole entire being ached, throbbed, and simultaneously went numb. I cried until my insides hollowed, until there was nothing left for me to cry away.

I miss you, today and everyday. I think of you quite often. Oh how I wish I could have met you in your prime, to meet the fiery woman who never let anyone stand in her way. The loyal christian woman who saw a Buddha statue in our cupboards and moved out that night, without telling a single soul. If only I could remember more of the person that you were before you got sick. Before your memory started to leave. Those silent moments we had, I'll always cherish.

I took these roses from your funeral, hung them up to dry. I thought they matched how I felt all of last year--pretty yet sad to look at, may fall apart at any moment. It's the only thing left of you in my possession. I look at them every single day, especially those days that I'm up at five in the morning. For you, I wear these roses, today and forevermore. 

March 9, 2018


A new year calls for new content, no? With 2018 almost a quarter of the way through, once again, I am attempting to refocus. By doing so, I intend to shy away from the superficial and put more focus into what matters more--me. I have always dabbled with words, writing and posting short pieces on Instagram whenever inspiration hits. Those seemingly silly words mean a whole lot to me. I am the most vulnerable through my writing-- this is the only time I allow my true emotions to completely shine through.

This little space will serve as a place to house all of my thoughts, words, feelings and such. Not only to share with you but also as a keepsake for myself. We'll see how long I can keep this up, I've never been good with follow-through.

Stay tuned, my loves.
June 9, 2014


outfit, fashion blogger, california, glasses, coastal glasses, cheap and chic, frames
outfit, fashion blogger, california, glasses, cheap and chic, frames
outfit, fashion blogger, california, glasses, cheap and chic, frames
outfit, fashion blogger, california, glasses, cheap and chic, frames
outfit, fashion blogger, california, glasses, cheap and chic, frames

Onto newer and clearer things, my new Derek Cardigan frames came in from Coastal Glasses. If you know me, you know that I'm practically blind -- like actually blind as a bat, I can't see sheeeeeep kind of blind (if you get that reference, I love you)! I started wearing glasses in the fourth grade and kids would always make fun of them so naturally I grew to hate them. I never felt like myself in them; I got contacts the first chance I could and never looked back. I rarely, if ever, wear glasses in public. 

But recently, I've been coming into myself -- I have been making adjustments to parts of me that I never particularly liked. Like my nose, I haaaaaaaated my nose for the longest time -- for what feels like ever really. Ever since I got my septum ring, I've been in love with it; that little glimmer of gold has made a big difference in my confidence.

So I got new glasses to do the same, I wanted something I wouldn't be self conscious to wear in public. And these are it. The simplicity, the minimalistic design are exactly what I was looking for. Isn't it funny how we can dress up parts and pieces of ourselves and how that can make all the difference?
June 5, 2014


outfit, fashion blogger, california, work wear, office wear, business casual, reuse, rewear, cheap and chic
outfit, fashion blogger, california, work wear, office wear, business casual, reuse, rewear, cheap and chic
outfit, fashion blogger, california, work wear, office wear, business casual, reuse, rewear, cheap and chic
outfit, fashion blogger, california, work wear, office wear, business casual, reuse, rewear, cheap and chic
outfit, fashion blogger, california, work wear, office wear, business casual, reuse, rewear, cheap and chic
wearing: Berkeley tank, Forever 21 flannel, high waisted denim from Crossroads Trading Co.

Okay if you couldn't tell by now, I'm in neither a blazer nor flats. I'm a cheater cheater pumpkin eater. Did you really expect me to get dressed up when I have the luxury of working from my bed? Exactly

So I defaulted, I went right back to my nasty old habits; I told you I live in my high waisted shorts. It's funny, those Guess shorts I found for $7 my freshmen year (as seen here, here & here), the ones that abused and loved to pieces, ripped right below my right cheek last weekend -- It's the end of an era. But thankfully, I found this pair at Crossroads and I hope they'll last just as long, if not longer. It seems that I make the best memories when I'm in cut offs, figures.