to all the girls i was before
12 - Dear Jo,
You think you know everything. But you don't. You'll hate hearing this, because you love planning out the next ten years of your life. You get lost in your own daydreams, and the future is literally all you ever talk and think about. Your visions are wide and exciting and often seem unrealistic. But despite all this, I love how much of a dreamer you are. I love how you don't apologise for your goals. I love that your big dreams are part of what brought me here. So thank you.
a day in my life | part one
7 AM. Your eyes flutter open, you check the time, and turn your head to the cold side of the pillow. Your class starts later, and you have no early morning plans. The bed feels eight times nicer than it did when you slept into it the night before. The world is silent and undemanding. You wrap a blanket around you. You wish to go back to sleep.
But you thought too soon.
At 8, you awake, startled by the sound of the garbage truck that pulls up—8 AM, on the dot, always on time—each morning. You retrieve all your thoughts as you stand up from the bed of your empty apartment. You move your body a little to shake off the remaining slumber. Stretch as if you're going for a jog. Then not go for a jog.
You pour yourself tea, as you do every morning. As the water rises to a boil, you place your hand above it, to catch the warm steam that escapes the kettle's mouth.
The teabag sits for a minute or two, the water slowly changing colour to accept its presence. Your hands wrap around it like a tiny cup of warmth. You hold it close, you take a sip, you breathe. People think you wake early just to drink tea. You don't tell them you have a garbage truck to thank.
writing vs blogging: why they're different, and why i only care about one of them
I hate the word "blogger."
There, I said it. If blogging crimes were a thing, I just committed one. Escort me to my cell.
What has happened to me? Am I leaving my blog? Have I outgrown it? Have I become too full of myself? The answer to all of this is no; despite how inactive I've been, I still fully intend on keeping this blog. (At least it saves future me the energy of telling life stories to the grandkids—I'll just send them a link and they can read all about it from their portable holograms.)
But I've been on the Internet long enough to recognize that there is a difference between writers and bloggers. Not all writers are bloggers, and, much to my dismay, not all bloggers are writers. Even though the two may correlate, writing and blogging, I've found, can be two very different practices.
i can never be a minimalist–and that's okay
We all want to live in that clean, all-white, perfect, minimalistic dream home with two well-mannered kids and beautiful, Insta-worthy breakfasts in bed with our partner every Sunday morning. We owe this to "dream home" Pinterest boards and ~aesthetic~ Instagram feeds. The "goals" of millennials; wooden drawers, rose gold furnishings, excessive natural light, and a copy of Kinfolk sitting ever so gracefully on a posh, all-white, Ikea-grade coffee table.
When I first moved into my apartment, this idea was etched into my head. My home is going to be well-lit and spotless and look good from every angle, and I'm going to love it. I'll take all the blogger-esque photos I want in it. Just a few hand-selected pieces of decoration, and the rest will be ~clean and minimal~.
That being said, here I am, in my seventh month of living here, with just two words for you – constant cleaning.
three podcasts you need to listen to
I've been incessantly, severely, obsessively in love with podcasts.
We all have our needs for entertainment, in whatever form it may take. Video games, cooking shows, an overrated Netflix series, or five-star romance novels; you name it. But as members of society in a world that's constantly changing, I think we should also feed our minds with entertainment that not only helps us pass the time, but also benefits and educates us.
We all have our needs for entertainment, in whatever form it may take. Video games, cooking shows, an overrated Netflix series, or five-star romance novels; you name it. But as members of society in a world that's constantly changing, I think we should also feed our minds with entertainment that not only helps us pass the time, but also benefits and educates us.
Over the past few months, I've been immersing myself in this world of podcasts where everyone – from journalists and politicians to celebrities and comedians – sits down to just- talk. Simply said.
Being recently detached from social media, I've been latching onto podcasts even more. In becoming increasingly obsessed, it was also cool discovering how popular they actually are. The much-highlighted Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook don't reveal much about how expansive the podcast community is, but it is, and that's certainly well-earned – there's a podcast out there for everyone.
life | turning nineteen
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| Photo taken by my good and talented friend Jamie Tung |
Seventeen was the year of brand new cars and drivers' licenses. The blinding disco lights of a birthday party. A girlhood era of high heels and makeup. Snapchat filters and high school romance. Immersing ourselves in the thrill of being young, fully embracing our moment of "I'm an adult but not quite yet."
Then eighteen was what I called an "important age". Stepping out of the carefree, party-filled teenage dream and into the age of major life decisions. What college? What career? Where do I go? What do I do? The classroom doors close. The friends say farewell. The kids embark and finally face reality.
Now when someone mentions nineteen, I picture a responsible, big girl with well-kept hair who makes everybody proud. Jeans that fit just right, soft, lavender curtains, and a clean, tidy dressing room. Adults love her, younger kids look up to her, she makes her own Christmas cards, and has her whole life figured out.
Needless to say, maybe, just maybe,
I could've imagined something a little more realistic.
I could've imagined something a little more realistic.
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