Comment on this entry, and I will:
1. Tell you why I friended you.
2. Associate you with something - fandom, a song, a color, a photo, a word etc.
3. Tell you something I like about you.
4. Tell you a memory I have of you.
5. Ask something I've always wanted to know about you.
6. Tell you my favorite user pic of yours.
7. In return, you must post this in your LJ.

I finally have a job. :D!!! It's a full-time, seasonal position with Oakley that could turn into a permanent position depending on my performance. I'm going to be a "Customer Care Analyst" AKA, the cube-monkey that takes phone calls about your online order and account information. I start training tomorrow :). At the end of the confirmation email:

"Remember, Oakley is a casual environment. Please do not wear a suit or dressy attire."

AWESOME!

I officially miss my crazy long, hippy hair.



Right now it is in that gross in between stage where it's not short and cute and polished anymore, but not long enough to wear down or do cute braidy stuff yet and all I can do is put it up into poofy buns. I'm gonna grow my shit out again, and go lighter

I've been feeling more confident and at ease with my body lately. I've had problems with body image issues for a long time and it's been a veritable roller coaster ride from high school to present day. I remember having both the energy and body-confidence in high school to dress kick-ass (or as kick-ass as my high school uniform code would allow), do elaborate makeup everyday, and wear tight-fitting, skimpy clothing that flaunted my nubile, jail-bait figure and naval piercing. I was 5'7 and 140 lb. I was cute and I was skinny.

When I entered college my weight stayed the same throughout freshman year, and I got even thinner towards sophomore year. I still dressed pretty much the same, but with less effort all-around. That style and body confidence slowly started to dwindle in junior year when I slowly gained about 20 pounds all the way throughout the end of college. I was a mess, and I didn't look or feel like myself. I wore baggy jeans, basketball shorts, t-shirts, flip flops, and baseball caps to hide my face all the time. It was the most unnattractive and pathetic I've ever felt in my life. When I would run into people I hadn't seen in awhile I could see the initial shock, then the confusion in their expressions asking "Dude, what the fuck happened?" I was crawling in my own skin. And the truth is I don't know what the fuck happened, or how I could let it happen. In reality it was a combination of growing out of my teenage body and gaining the womanly curves and bits of suck, not watching what and how much of what I was eating, and my boyfriend and I starting to fuck leading to me changing my birth control pills.

I realize this is all rather silly considering there are plenty of girls that are much heavier (some of whom I find rather attractive) than I am, and that I wasn't even "fat". I wish I had either owned it, or tried doing something to fix it besides wallowing.

Things got easier after I graduated college, I grew up a little more and I let go of the angst and pining (the psychotic, crazy pining) for my girlish, teenage figure. I donated the baggy jeans and pants, and I put away the t-shirts and basketball shorts. I also started to watch what I ate, but I wasn't exercising yet. My weight started to stabalize just from watching my diet and I didn't feel as low as I had in the previous couple of years.

Now, I can say I'm in an okay place. Not great but okay, because fuck, I still have a sick desire to be model-thin, hell to even be as thin as I was in high school/early college and to fit into a pair of my old jeans.. which is sadly something I think won't ever go away. I'm still not where I'd like to be physically, however I do feel the healthiest and strongest I've felt in a long time. I go to the gym, do yoga and pilates and eat a well and balanced diet for the most part. I figure if I keep going on this track my body will follow to some degree. One can always hope.

This is the second dream I had about my dad since he passed, it is the best, and it is the worst. It is the best because I get to hug him for a full three seconds and feel one of his big, bear hugs again. It is the worst because of it's sheer realness, and because for a full two seconds after I woke up I felt hopeful, and I thought it all had never really happened.

I am my present age, and sitting in my own room. Everything about my room looks the same, and everything is quite normal. I'm sitting in my white chair watching something on tv, my door opens and my dad walks in but he's dad from the 70's. He has that long chin-length haircut, and wearing his favorite brown plaid shirt. As he walks towards me, he is smiling and says "I'm back! I'm finally back!" I stand up and we hug for a full three seconds while I'm sobbing uncontrollably. I wake up and I hope to see my dad, after two seconds I start to sob uncontrollably.

My dad loved Chevy's, the Mexican chain restaurant. Everytime we went (which was often) he always ordered the steak/grilled shrimp fajitas combo. He loved fajitas so much that my mom tried making them at home, and when he saw the spread he yelled "FAJITASS!!" Her version included fried rice with peas and carrots.

Ever since I could remember it was always my dad's dream for me to become a TV News Anchorwoman. When I was in grade school he'd bring it up every once in awhile, "When you grow up you should be TV anchor! I think you be good. Mommy and me born you here so your English very good, no problem. You be next Connie Chung!" When I entered junior high, "How about you be anchor?" When I entered high school, "When you go college, you should study and be anchor! I think you be good.. I think you be good!"

I'm alive. It's been a busy few weeks.

My mom visisted again and there was major drama that went down between us that consisted of a mix of repressed childhood resentment coupled with our language barrier with a dash of irrational, Korean anger. I won't go into details but after everything I'm glad it happened, we finally got to talk that stuff out. Things are really great between us now. While she was here we straightened out the rest of the house stuff, ran errands, and had a dinner party for my extended family.

On a completely different topic, I have never been filled with a stronger urge to SHOP than I have right now. I WANT TO BUY SO MANY THIINNGGGSSS. I WANT TO GO SHOPPINNNNGGGG, but I CAN'T because I have no MONNNIIIEEESSS. AGHGHGKGHHG, I WANT A FUCKING JOB!

Lately I've also developed a taste for fabulous high heels. I never used to wear heels unless they were for a special occasion, because I was always insecure about my height. I was always the tallest out of my Asian friends because they were of average Asian-midget height. But lately I can't seem to stop lusting after beautiful high heeled shoes. I just got a pair of black leather, tiny gold-studded bootie heels that I've been wearing out for no reason at all.

I need monies. :(

I haven't been posting much, and have been crap about keeping up to date on the dad entries, but my mom came to town last week to see me and we've since had family over and cleaning/getting the last of the new place straightened out and generally running about. A few things.

- I'm in norcal right now for the weekend. It is sort of strange being back home, I feel like a guest. Everything seems calmer up here. I just drove mom and I up yesterday from Irvine for my ortho appointment. Teeth rape to the max.

- I experienced non-disdain for a baby (newest girl cousin) for the first time in my life. Yes, she put her fat little arms around my neck and hugged me. A large part of my identity has been skewed. WHO AM I?? But it comes and goes.

- I am apparently getting a new car. Pictures later.

- Pictures of my new socal residence coming also.

I'm gonna break pattern here and do a story about my mom worth remembering.

My mom was born in South Korea, and grew up the oldest of four brothers. They were dirt poor, and my mom had to drop out of school when she was in the fourth grade to work and help out the family with food. She was practically a second mother to my uncles. Times were tough, she worked a lot of different jobs around town, from washing clothes, to gardening, but her main source of income came from extortion. She started by approaching the orphans at the local orphanage and made a deal with them, they provide the muscle, she'll split the cash between them. After that, she would run around the elementary schools during lunch and break hours and take money, food, toys, and whatever she liked from the local children, threatening a pounding if they wouldn't hand it over. At the end of the day she would split the spoils between herself and the orphans, take the loot home, and do it all over again the next day.

When my mom and dad were running that motel in Oxnard, the same motel where my dad would "practice" his "kung fu", some guy tried to rob my dad while he was working the front desk. From what my mom tells me, the guy had a gun and everything, and he was pointing it at my dad demanding money. My dad reached over to the cash register, but instead of pulling the cash out, he pulled the entire drawer out and slammed it unto the guy's head. He ran, firing some shots behind him, and luckily my dad wasn't hit, but only nicked with a dented coin that had absorbed one of the bullet shots. He kept the dented coin for awhile, but my mom made him get rid of it because she felt it wasn't good luck. My mom said he also bitch-kicked some belligerent customer in the chest and made him fly. It is pretty safe to say he was quite a bad-ass.

When I was 12 my mom and dad were in one of their huge fights where my mom would threaten to divorce him. I guess it was one of those times my dad really thought it might happen. It was around her birthday, and while she was at work he planned an elaborate surprise birthday/please forgive me party for her. He bought an icecream cake, a red table spread, two dozen red roses with sparkly heart sticks, and shiny heart confetti that he sprinkled about. I helped him set the spread, and he made her one of his homemade cards. When she got home I could see the surprise in her face, and the anger melting away. It was a very nice moment.

The first dream I had after my dad passed happened about a couple months after. I was somewhere bright, everywhere was white and hazy, like clouds. It was probably heaven, or somewhere like it. I remember feeling peaceful, and good. I saw my dad there, he was still bald and wearing a hospital gown, it was what he looked like when he died. I remember feeling weak when I saw him, gasping for breath because I started crying so hard, but I didn't say anything. We hugged, and he smiled and said to me in perfect English, "Look at you.. I miss you already."

My dad loved our first yorkshire terrier, Sachiko. Whenever she would have a bath, right after her blowdrying my dad would pick her up and say, "Oooh Sachiko sha-wah! You smell so good!" and rub her clean fur all over his face. I made this picture to illustrate what happened.

I went over to my uncle's place today and played with my two little cousins for the day. One is a five year old boy, and one is a girl toddler. We blew bubbles and watched Spongebob. I just got home, and I'm snuggling my dog.. and I'm pretty certain that I love her more than I love my kid cousins. Don't get me wrong, I love my cousins.. but I love my dog more. What does that say about me?

Ever since I could remember, my dad had the ability to constantly pop something in his ankle at will. Sometime it would just happen when he walked, I would hear it clicking away outside my room when he walked down the hallway. He would click it while making eggs on toast, waiting in line, or shaving.

My dad loved books, he collected hundreds over the years. They covered his book shelves, filled the insides of his drawers, and sat inside storage boxes. They spanned a wide range of subjects, from the previously mentioned self-help books, to casserole cooking, to origami-making. There was no way he could've read them all, let alone a fraction of them. He read something everyday, because as he told me when I was seven years old, "If you don't read everyday your face not look pretty, the day you not read, you ugly. I'm serious!" He's read the bible three times cover to cover.

My dad was one of those people that think they have a great idea, or product, and will make tons of money off said idea or product. When I was in elementary school he tried and failed at a number of business ventures. Case in point, water-purifying machines of some kind, making his own eye-wear brand called "LA Boy," opening up a Chinese fusion restaurant, and a couple others I can't remember. I think up until he passed, there were still random eyeglass frames lying around from "LA Boy."

When I was five, I remember my dad trying to help me with math homework. I always blew at math and always had a hard time getting the stuff. After not being able to answer the questions my dad got frustrated and in a scary, steady voice pointed to an equation and asked me what the answer was. When I didn't get the right answer, he let out a anger-ridden bellow, "JEESSSSIIICCAAAAA!!! AAGGGHHHHHHHH!!" I sat there, five years old, and terrified. I never asked him for help on math homework again.

Sometimes when I would go on car rides with my dad and we'd stop for gas, he would go inside to the store and come out with an ice cream for me. It was always a different kind, a popsicle, a strawberry shortcake bar, an eskimo sandwich.. it was random, and always a surprise.