A Home

I mistook the warnings for wisdom
From so called friends quick to advise
Though your touch was telling me otherwise
Somehow I saw you as a weakness
I thought I had to be strong
Oh but I was just young, I was scared, I was wrong

Not a night goes by
I don't dream of wandering
Through the home that might have been
And I listened to my pride
When my heart cried out for you
Now every day I wake again
In a house that might have been
A home

Guess I did what I did believing
That love is a dangerous thing
Oh but that couldn't hurt anymore than never knowing

Not a night goes by
I don't dream of wandering
Through the home that might have been
And I listened to my pride
When my heart cried out for you
Now every day I wake again
In a house that might have been
A home
A home

Four walls, a roof, a door, some windows
Just a place to run when my working day is through
They say home is where the heart is
If the exception proves the rule I guess that's true

Not a night goes by
I don't dream of wandering
Through the home that might have been
And I listened to my pride
When my heart cried out for you
Now every day I wake again
In a house that might have been
A home
A home

- Dixie Chicks

Low Expectations

So I finally went apartment hunting in the city to see what I can get for my hard earned dollar. I think because my expectations were so damn low that the experience pleasantly surprised me. All the agents I worked with were pretty nice people. Some apartments were bad but I actually saw two that I would totally consider. The one I really liked was somewhat out of my price range -- $2,500 a month. Crazy, right? Yeah, but it's right next to the Time Warner building near Hell's Kitchen and is a huge space compared to the small shitholes you usually get. Apparently, that is considered a "great deal." One agent was really snobby tho, with it being a seller's market, he was like "oh whatever, if-you-want-to-see-it-I-don't-care attitude." Nearly everyone was like, "if you like it, you'd better sign up for it now because it won't be here tomorrow." Unfortunately, that part is true. But then I realized the broker's fee was ridiculous -- 15% of one year's rent...that's like $4-5K!! It was still eye-opening though. The way I see it, at least I got some exercise today. I think I might have walked 7 miles (I'm not kidding you!). Shoulda worn my shox instead of my pumas.

A Familiar Quote

"And ever it has been that love knows not his own depth until the hour of separation. "

-- Kahlil Gibran

Moqueca

After my haircut and running into Ann and Jin, I went with Z to Moqueca in Inman. We've been wanting to try this place for a while...it's Brazilian but not the meat-oriented cuisine most associate with Brazilian restaurants. It was a tiny hole-in-the-wall and a total mom and pop establishment. Known for their fish and seafood stews, everything that came out of the kitchen made my mouth water. To start, we got fried yucca with yogurt herb sauce. Then I ordered a seafood stew rice that was divine! It had squid, mussels, shrimp over a saffron rice garnished with tons of yummy cilantro. Ok, it was essentially seafood paella, Brazilian style. Z got a salted cod stew with coconut milk, it was very interesting. But for once, I wasn't stealing off someone else's plate because I liked my own dish better. Anyways, it's quite a little jewel. Our goal now is to try a new place every week.

Slack-Jawed Yokel

OMG. I just went to the dentist and got a new filling. The entire side of my face is completely numb. My cheek up to my ear! I can't control my tongue and can barely drink water. I feel completely slack-jawed. Thank goodness I don't have any meetings until later in the day. Oh, and it was so painful. I was not happy seeing that gigantic needle coming my way. Uhhhhh! Sometimes I wonder if any of this is necessary!!! It's like going into the shop and the mechanic says you have a cavity...do you trust the fellow to be on the safe side or ignore him? Anyhoo, the worst part's over!

Relief

I'm so in awe of my sister sometimes. I don't know what I would do without her. After listening to her, everything made sense and I think I have a handle on things now. She can be so unaffected, yet empathetic and caring. I don't know how she can be so wise at her age. I know I wasn't. There are so many times when I think she's the big sister. Of course, we don't always agree but I think as we grow older, the way we think and relate is converging. It's really nice. I look at other siblings and wonder how they can not be best friends. Ok, maybe best friends is stretching it--we're such different people. But we are always, always there for each another. More and more, I see her as an equal and can actually rely on her for sage advice. I love her faith in me and how she tries to lend me strength when I have none. We've been through so much together, but it only feels like the beginning.

A Bag Ain't Just a Bag

I love this NY Times article about women's obsession with handbags and the psychoanalysis behind it.

Buying a bag is nothing less than a compulsion, a fixation, a tragicomic spectacle, an indication of status anxiety, a sign of existential hope, a fetish, a clue, a puzzlement, a pity, a pleasure. One might even go so far as to conjecture that the British analyst D.W. Winnicott's notion of "potential space" — an imaginative domain between inner and outer worlds that corresponds to the infant's sense of play — finds its most perfect habitation in a handbag. It is, above all, the great unstated answer to the Freudian question: What do women want? Well, I am here to clear away this lingering mystery about the nature of female desire forever: they want bags.

The article goes on to say:

"A bag," observes Wurtzel, "is about controlling the world outside your home. It's not any more about materialism than Neruda's 'Ode to Things' is. When he says, 'Oh irrevocable / river / of things,' he's talking about his attachments, and some of us cannot bear to be separated from our things for too long."

Considered in this light, bags are almost worth the time and money we give them. In being so sublimely iconographic, they tell us nothing less than where we live, who we are and where you might metaphorically someday find us, carrying our best selves in the bag of our secret dreams.

And behold, I'm drooling over my next vessel of secret dreams =) :

Friendship

My head is killing me. I'm so tired. I'm tired of being judged. I've come to realize that the best friends are those that listen openly and do not try to impose their opinions. But those are few and far in between. I absolutely hate how people impose their morals and beliefs on my situations and then say, "well, I'm only saying this because I want what's best for you." Have they ever walked a mile in my shoes? Do they know what's in my mind and my heart? Why do they presume they are all-knowing experts of what life lesson Kosin needs to learn?

Sometimes I want to share to be closer to someone, or I just need a shoulder to cry on, or just someone to nod and be sympathetic. I don't go to people for solutions or advice necessarily, I don't know why they feel like they need to give it. What do they really know? No imagination. No understanding. I vow never to broach certain topics with certain people. It's not worth my own condemnation...when I know I am undeserving. I don't need to be made to feel like a fool when I am not. In the end, I am really only accountable to myself. But sometimes that makes me feel so alone. I wish I had unconditional support from someone who just let me be me.

Briefly It Enters, and Briefly Speaks

I am the blossom pressed in a book,
found again after two hundred years...

I am the maker, the lover, and the keeper...

When the young girl who starves
sits down to a table
she will sit beside me...

I am food on the prisoner's plate...

I am water rushing to the wellhead,
filling the pitcher until it spills...

I am the patient gardener
of the dry and weedy garden...

I am the stone step,
the latch, and the working hinge...

I am the heart contracted by joy...
the longest hair, white
before the rest...

I am there in the basket of fruit
presented to the widow...

I am the musk rose opening
unattended, the fern on the boggy summit...

I am the one whose love
overcomes you, already with you
when you think to call my name...

Jane Kenyon

How the Little Beast Was Tamed

I love writing poetry with Lynn. She's a great teacher. But only once in a blue moon does the mood strike. Inspiration is often hard to find. But when it hits, she and I will stay up till the wee hours of the morning going back and forth on drafts. It takes weeks to really finish one because what seems perfectly phrased today could look silly or cheesey the next. But it always feels good to get that sentiment out...and it definitely always feels like a mini-accomplishment. I'm contemplating my next one. But in the meantime, here's a little diddley Lynnie penned on the bus ride back from Boston. :)

How the Little Beast Was Tamed

You laugh at the odd
little animal sounds I make
I'm not even conscious of it anymore
I think it's from talking to my cats.

You laugh at the way
I sniff your shoulder
as if it were a line of coke
and it's been weeks.

You laugh, but sometimes I do
feel like a furry little beast,
back arched, teeth bared,
in need of a bath and a meal.

Then you come along,
roll over in the patch
of afternoon sun
and show your belly.

You don't make a peep,
cradling my eyes
in your blue-green sea
as I circle you

slowly, cautiously, nervously

one
two
three times

then lay down
beside you
belly to belly
and purr.

--Lynn Huang

For Anon

Sigh

Sigh, I feel so sickly still. I just spent the last week sick and I thought I was better. Now my stomach hurts and I'm constantly sleepy. Plus my nose is going haywire...more than per usual. If this is a healthy, young version of me, I dunno what I'm gonna do when I'm actually old! Sheesh!

I think I'm just gonna call it a night with some herbal tea and a good mystery book. I'm reading a new book called "Died in the Wool" by Ngaio Marsh, who is supposed to rival Agatha Christie. But these books aren't contemporary -- they were first published in the 1940's so a lot of the jargon is dated and I can't decipher what the characters are saying at times. But it came highly recommended from the B&N clerk. I just wanted to expand my mystery reading beyond Agatha. But it seems like most of the contemporary mystery novels tend to be on the cheesey side. I've just been craving a good book lately and since it's still years before the next Harry book comes out, I gotta make do.

Quote of the Day - 9.20.06

"The heart has its reasons which reason knows not of."

-- Blaise Pascal

Welcomed Rain

I'm so glad it's raining right now. It feels so muggy that I just want everything to cool off. It's almost hypnotic looking outside my window into the night and seeing the drops of water bounce off the black asphalt lit by the apartment lights across the street. It's just one continuous stream coming down that driveway. I hope it rains all day tomorrow too. It just feels better for some reason.

O, You!

I just registered for Oprah's O, You! event. It's gonna be so cool going to workshops by Dr. Robin, Martha Beck, and then getting a breakout session with Stacey London from What Not to Wear and Reggie, Oprah's markup artist. I know, I know, it's kinda cheesey housewifey nonsense. But I think people are too cynical. I'm just gonna go and enjoy it. =)

Karl Kokosing

I was highly amused last night as I watched Prison Break. The characters were all heading to K&K ranch in Utah to chase down some buried loot. They look up K&K and behold, it stood for "Karl Kokosing!"

;)

Cars Need to Get with the iPod Already!

I finally bought one of those car FM adapters for the iPod. OMG, it sucks! I knew it wouldn't be perfect but the static is awful. I'd much rather insert CDs all day. When I got my Mazda 3, my friend kept telling me, "oh, don't worry about the iPod integration." Blah, blah, blah! Well, the Scion is looking good now, even if it is a slightly cheesey car. I know Mazda and all these other car manufacturers have announced iPod integration but it has yet to come to market. If I were Steve Jobs, I would have made some lucrative deal with only a few manufacturers to have sole iPod integration. The fact that it's taken this long to get to market is ridiculous considering the demand. Who wants to deal with custom audio work and twiddling around with the stupid stereo? We want smooth integration with the stereo interface and a resting place in the arm to store the iPod. Anyhoo, enuff rambling about things I can't change. Now I know I should've gotten the 6-CD changer. Doh!

Quote of the Day - 9.19.06

"At the center of your being you have the answer; you know who you are and you know what you want.”

- Lao Tzu

My Emotional Journey Through Scrabble

...but I won anyway!

Sushi Reward...